Oh no! Not the Cutty Sark!

The Guardian reports that the Cutty Sark's burnt!

That's really disappointing.

Update: Photos

Some people make me really, really angry.

Yesterday I read something that really bothered me. A post on BoingBoing, specifically, posted on Sunday. Here is the title of the post:

Iraq: Kurdish girl stoned to death, mob films it on cameraphones

According to the reports, the story goes something along these lines. Du'a Khalil Aswad, a 17 year old Kurdish girl "had a relationship" with a Sunni Muslim boy in a town near by. So a mob of men from her community beat and stoned her to death on April 7. For whatever reason, members of this mob filmed the murder with mobile phone video cameras, and last week (week of May 1) posted it to YouTube.What on Earth possesses people to behave like this? The boy's religion was (presumably still is) Sunni Muslim, her religion was Yezidi (an ancient pre-Islamic religion)... and it sounds like they happened to get along rather well. I don't know what 'have a relationship' is a euphemism for in this case - they may have been going at it like rabbits or discussing the latest editorial in the Middle Eastern Times for all we know. I am making the assumption that the relationship was entered into willingly by both parties.

A couple of kids made friends, maybe even made love. In a place like Iraq, that's no mean feat, I think. And for this, the men of her community, who by being Kurds in Iraq likely have first-hand knowledge of what it is like to be attacked by an adversary much stronger than them, thousands of these men apparently saw reason to punish Du'a by beating her, tearing her clothes off, heaving rocks at her head while she lay on the ground crying and begging for help... and this is called an HONOUR killing.

So not only is a young girl killed for (hopefully) finding some happiness in the middle of a war, she is killed in a manner calculated to be painful, terrorising and brutal.

And what for? To make some sort of point that hanging out with people who are different from us is evil? What are these guys afraid of that they need to murder a girl like this?

But wait: There's more. I ran across a report (admittedly, on a Web site that doesn't have the same reputation for journalistic rigour as say, AP does) that Iraqi security forces witnessed the attack but did not intervene. How about instigating a little security for those who can't defend themselves?

Next point: I haven't seen any coverage of this on any of the major Western news sources so far. (The Daily Mail and FoxNews don't count). Maybe it isn't sufficiently verified or approved for publication, or maybe Du'a didn't have the good fortune to have an embedded journalist in the area.

Another wrinkle: Seemingly in retaliation for Du'a's murder, someone shot up a bus full of Yazidis. More hate and retaliation is likely to follow. It looks like that someone or someones were Sunni Muslims... maybe friends of his.

Just a note about 'honour' killings. I don't think there is anything honourable about murdering anybody, no matter how badly they piss you off, or how much you think they have transgressed some deeply held value or social more. You just don't go bashing people in the head with rocks just because you don't like what they've done. I really don't care whether it is a thousand year old tradition or anything like that - that just means it has been wrong for a thousand years. Cultural relativism can get stuffed.

Finally, I do note that the Kurdistan Regional Government is making some of the right noises about this in a statement published on its Web site. Good news! 'Honour' killings are against the law, and have been since 2002, and the KRG's got 40 convictions and 24 cases on the dock. Poor Du'a didn't get killed under the KRG's bailiwick, so it falls to Iraqi authorities to investigate.

For some reason I think of Admira and Bosko (apologies for the lack of diacritical marks) killed in Sarajevo in 1993.

I really am angry with the men who killed Du'a. I really am angry because these sorts of inexcusable hateful actions occur every single day that passes. I am really angry because there are people being attacked and hurt right here in Sydney. And I am really angry that us humans, who can be capable of such great depths of love, can also be so brutally struck down by great depths of evil.

ANZAC Day - and Curse of the Golden Flower

First things first, a great deal of respect to the ANZACs. Today is ANZAC day, where we remember and pay respect to the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. It's sort of like Remembrance Day back home, but is typically celebrated by a dawn service, a breakfast, and then a day spent at the pub playing two-up.

We didn't follow the prescribed rituals, and went to see Curse of the Golden Flower instead. I don't think I really appreciated the movie, and found it rather dull and hard to follow. Pretty impressive cinematography though.

One other ANZAC day note: some twits went and spraypainted the War Memorial with the message that ANZACs are murderers. Simone told me about an ANZAC who commented that it is a pretty disgraceful and shameful thing to do - and that when the people who did it sobered up, they'd realise that too.

June Callwood on CBC's Ideas podcast

I just listened to the April 23rd podcast - June Callwood's 2002 Dalton Camp lecture. Get it on the Ideas podcast site here while you can, it's only archived for about a month. I was only vaguely aware of June Callwood, which is rather shocking considering my university education had a lot of social awareness stuff in it, and even more shocking considering I studied in a school of communication and journalism. Just a bit of an oversight there, I suppose.

Anyway, it's a funny, penetrating, and moving lecture; one of those that sets aflame the passions of social justice in a cold, dead corporate soul. Many of the stories she recounted I am familiar with - such as the young woman who was stabbed to death in New York over a period of twenty minutes, screaming the whole time, the good burghers who heard her screams, but remained uninvolved in their apartments, and the reporter who interviewed every last one of those burghers, and got the story published - but in the retelling she somehow makes the stories mean something just a little bit more than they used to.

Even for non-journalists her counsel is achingly simple: every good, kind act diminishes the evil in the world just a little bit.

Beautiful stuff. Ms Callwood passed away on April 14th, and she still had her pilot's licence.

Noticed that...

it was warmer in Ottawa than in Sydney today. Unbelievable, it was only a max of 18 or so degrees. Maybe we better plug the car in...

The DNTO podcast this week was all about old folks - I had no idea Leslie Nielsen was 81. Right near the end of the podcast Sook-Yin talks to Sybil Rampen about the "Hell's Grannies" documentary. Sybil's something like 78 years old, and one day she got bored so she got her friends together to be a motorcycle gang.

Great stuff.

Anyway - Saturday's race was a bust thanks to the wind not showing up to play. At least I was able to find the car in the morning. It ended up being a good little sail anyway, but the season is clearly drawing to a close with the wind becoming lighter and more erratic.

We're just like the big guys though: the Louis Vuitton Cup races have been postponed a few days for lack of wind too.

Dude, where's the car?

The best laid plans of mice and men. I wandered out to bring the car up to attach the trailer in order to convey my nearest and dearest (object, not person!) to the river. Strangely, I couldn't find the car in any of its usual hiding spots up and down the street.

Ha ha, joke's on me. Friday night we met up with a near and dear friend in North Sydney for some light refreshments. Taking into account both the challenge of locating parking there, as well as the way in which NSWPD frowns upon driving after some light refreshing, we caught the train in from work. One of us caught the train to work, the other had taken the car to work... so when we both caught the train to the pub... the car remained at one of our workplaces.

So I ended up seeing The Freedom Writers, likely taglined somewhere as the inspirational feelgood movie of the year. Long story short: rookie teacher wins the hearts and respect of her gangsta students and changes their world.

That description sounds pretty snide: the movie was a lot better than I expected, and (if you can believe what you read on the Interweb) remarkably true to life. Very impressive, Miz G.

Nearly a month since the last post. Shocking.

Yes, it is positively shocking that a month has gone by and nothing has been inscribed here. Since then I've been sailing twice, both with good results. Another handicap start, and a regular start. Last weekend was probably my best run yet, finishing 5th last or so, a definite improvement over the start of the year. Very very cool... and now I have a secret weapon. I bought a book with training plans and drills and stuff in it. Nothing will keep me from a top 15 finish, in true Canadian international sporting competition style.

Sailing results

This having your own boat thing appears to be paying off. That, or the handicapping system is being really kind to me. Today we did a handicap start - depending on how good or how... inexperienced a sailor one is, one gets to start a number of minutes ahead of the 'scratch' boats - those with sailors that are good enough not to need a head start.

I had a 15 minute headstart. I'm not sure whether to be pleased (that I don't need the biggest headstart in the fleet), or miffed (cos I can use all the advantage available to me). I suppose the mark of an accurate handicap is if (for example) I finished close to the scratch boats... I was 3 minutes behind the leader, so plus my 15 is a normal 18 minute split. Pretty good.

Of course, I didn't help myself at all. Nearly capsized once, stuffed up a gybe, stalled twice (didn't think sailboats had clutches...), and stuffed three rounding three marks. Add all those mistakes up, and my handicap would have been spot on, if not a little generous.

Yippee, this is a fun sport.

And thar she blew... sort of

Light winds are, I am told, the most challenging to sail in. I think I would qualify that to claim that racing in light winds is difficult. Sailing with little or no wind is easy. You just sit there, try to keep in the shade of the sail a bit, and enjoy a bit of a drift with the current or the tide. When there is a bit of wind, scoot along and when it dies down again, sit back in the shade again.

Racing in light wind is another matter altogether. There are puffs of wind, apparently randomly distributed over the area of the race course. Each one of these puffs seems to be coming from a different area, and some indeed must be generated by the sporadic efforts of an oscillating fan.

So the experienced, the good, the skilled sailors complain about the lack of wind, how it is shocking (as though someone just could not be counted on to bring the wind, when they promised to do so), and then they proceed to just blitz around the course whilst we neophyte sailors look on in wonder.

It's all about not making mistakes... and reading the wind... and being able to react when there is wind... and reacting the right way... and doing that consistently all round the course. Suffice to say, yesterday was not my best showing ever. (By the way, go Renee! First on handicap, well done!). Yep, last (not counting the new sailor who joined in for fun, and nearly beat me too).

At least I know where I went wrong. First, getting mixed up with the Herons while rounding a mark really killed a lot of time. Then stuffing up the approach to a mark, after I'd caught up a bunch of guys, sort of deflated any hope for a better finish.

Next time. Next time.

Pictures of the new baby

The pictures are posted here.

Introducing the newest member of the family

Well, it is all done and dusted. She came home on Monday, kindly dropped off by her former guardians. We hadn't had long to get acquainted - we had only met her for the first time the day before, on Sunday. She seemed too good to be true: I had been looking off and on for her - or at least, someone like her, but as they say, good ones are few and far between.

Actually, there are plenty of good ones. The problem is that they're too expensive. And that just goes to show you that you can put a price on just about anything. It also goes to show that no matter what, I am unabashedly frugal. (Simone might call it 'tight-assed', but I prefer to think that that is an Australian colloquialism for 'frugal).

Back to the story. She was dropped off on Monday morning - Simone popped home from work and locked her in the garage. When I got home I opened up the garage to see how she was doing - she seemed to be alright, so I checked her out a bit, and then relocked the garage, went up and had dinner.

This morning, we let her out. We hooked the trailer to our shiny new trailer ball, and trundled off to the park. Simone, noticing that I was still a little awkward, left us alone for a bit to get to know each other.

So, I started putting her together: mast into the sail sleeve, attached the outhaul, re-attached another way, and then did it one more time to get it right. Next it was the vang, which only took two tries. The downhaul was easy - one attempt. Now, with the sail all put together, everything else was as I'd practiced on the club boats. No problems.

In my excitement to get out on the water, I rather forgot my life jacket. Whoops.

Wow. I have my own boat, and she sails a treat. Finished third last on scratch, second last on handicap. Not bad at all for a new boat.

Her name is Jatani. To the best of my knowledge, that's a city in India (in the state of Orissa, no less). She's green, she's old, and she's awesome.

Soon, I shall post photos (that Simone took) on Zooomr. They're just on the other computer at the moment.

Catchup Time

My, it's been a while since I've put anything here. Since then, I've
1) Gone sailing, with a consistent level of success,
2) Posted lots more pictures on zooomr, but no more on Flickr or Web albums
3) Celebrated Australia Day
4) Celebrated Valentine's Day,
5) Become an Australian permanent resident,
6) Started to buy a boat.

The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro

And now something a little more highbrow. This is a really well written book, and much slower in pace than many. This suits Stevens' (the butler main character) introspection on a life of service and the associated implications and questions that arise.

Some of the values that are self-evident to Stevens - that is, utter unflappability, 'dignity' (which has a couple of interesting definitions), and the subjugation of moral judgement to the responsibilities and duties of one's post or position - did give me pause, wondering if this fellow was for real. Naturally, he isn't: he's a character in a book. I don't doubt, however, that such values were at some place and time (and may even be so now) highly regarded, or even expected.

On reflection, the story seems to be a cautionary tale against blind devotion to 'duty', however defined. "Thud!", posted just before, also talks about 'some things you just have to do'. Stevens' has many things he feels he has to do. The difference between Vimes and Stevens is simply the source or pedigree of the obligations. Vimes is guided by a moral compass, where Stevens is guided by his responsibility to his employer. To be fair, while I do agree more with Vimes' guide, Stevens' job is to be a butler, not a police watch commander charged with preserving peace and law in a big city.

Criminy. I think I just came up with a bit of a thesis here. Sources of obligation in literature, and as always with these discussion, the social commentary contained therein.

In short, though, it was a pretty good book.

Thud! - Terry Pratchett

Full disclosure: I really like Pratchett, and the Discworld novels. I've read a bunch of them, and enjoyed every one, and have even laughed out loud while reading them on public transport.

Thud! is something like the 30th Discworld book, and the first one I've read that doesn't relate the state of the cosmos in Discworld - the Disc on the backs of 4 elephants standing on a huge turtle who is swimming through space.

Then again, the book is different from earlier Discworld books in that it is subtle in a slightly different way: it's almost like Pratchett's graduated from odd (though ingenious) parallels between the bizarre real world that readers inhabit and the bizarre magical world that the characters inhabit to parallels between big issues in the two worlds. Strangely absent is the word play of "In Sewer Ants" (Insurance) where the Discworld version is a delightfully apt characterisation of the industry, replaced by Sam Vimes' struggle to keep trolls and dwarves from reliving a centuries-old conflict that is based in... but I won't spoil the story by revealing what it is based in!

I particularly like Sam's priority of being home at 6pm to read to his son... regardless of which kings expect his presence at dinner.

It's a Pratchett Discworld book. Wonderful.

Master & Commander - Patrick O'Brian

Props to Nick for telling me about this book - I bought it on his recommendation in Canada during our trip there over Christmas.

It's the tale of Captain Jack Aubry and Stephen Maturin, in the first of 20 historical novels. That basically means that the stories are largely true to history, but in order to make things read a little better, the history's been tidied up a little.

Not knowing that much about Nelson's navy, I'll have to rely on my gut in assessing the 'faultless portrayal' claimed on the back cover - and my gut says that it's pretty much spot on.

This first book in the series sets up the characters at the point in Aubry's career when he receives his first commission as Master and Commander of a ship, and relates the ups (daring captures of enemy vessels) and downs (being captured by the enemy) of the life of an 18th century navy man. All in all, it was a good read, and I am looking forward to the next 19 books.

Pictures Posted!

Finally put up some photos from the trip to Canada on Web albums

There are also some on Flickr.

Also, but not from Canada, but Australia Day on Zooomr

Photos - Landing in Sydney

Normally, we end up landing in the dark when we get back to SYD, so it was a real treat to have pretty clear conditions (and light) coming in.

These haven't been digitally manipulated in any way, so they are still a bit flat with the early morning light.

The photos are here, on Flickr.

Like a rookie, sailing for the very last time

Beautiful day to be back on the water yesterday... if only my performance had done it justice. In the cadet race (the earlier, shorter race for younger and more neophyte participants) things went alright, with a top-three finish.

In the real race is where things went awry. For some odd reason, my bung (drain plug for draining water that gets into the hull) came out, with the obvious consequence of having an open hole in the hull. Those holes are definitely not one-way flow devices: halfway into the first lap of the race, I was wondering why the boat was handling so oddly, and when the waves started coming over the front instead of sort of splashing to the side, I headed for shore and safety.

Drained the boat, fastened the bung (and checked it three times) and rejoined the race. By now the wind had really picked up, and my ability in stronger winds is quite minimal... I rejoined in last place and stayed quite solidly there.

But it was a beautiful day nevertheless.

Picture in the SMH

Here is the picture that Simone sent in to the Sydney Morning Herald.

The boy (at left) really tried very hard to defeat his nemesis (the girl, at right), however she seemed to be much more practiced in both manoeuvring her bucket and playing to us tourists.

Setting the scene:

This picture was at the floating village near Siem Reap. I don't know that the village had a name other than "the floating village." The name is remarkably appropriate: if other villages followed the same nomenclature, there would be many "villages on land", perhaps a few "villages near trees"...

But I digress. There is a really big lake near Siem Reap - I think I remember the name, but I'm not going to embarass myself in front of the Internet by guessing wrong. For eminently practical reasons, every structure in the village floats, simply moored where the homeowner wishes. Every structure is thus situated: the mosque, the church, the store, the school and the separate basketball court (courtesy of the Japanese dev-aid folks), and of course, the tourist centre, from whose gently bobbing decks this photo was snapped.

The tourist centre is about the furthest structure out into the lake (it is a REALLY big lake - goes on past the horizon), and us tourists drive into the sort of shore-based gateway to the village, hire a boat (and driver, plus a young guide), which then putters out to the centre, as we gape amazedly at the village. Once at the tourist centre, one can continue to gape at the expanse of water, thrill to the crocodiles caged just below deck, be surprised by great big fish leaping out of their live wells (and thus consigning themselves to the warm part of the café), eat fresh coconut, and buy souvenirs.

Alternatively, one can seek a quiet corner of the complex, marvel at the whole experience and try to convince oneself that one is a traveller, rather than a tourist.

The kiddies pictured quickly put paid to that bit of self-delusion: one is not a traveller, one is not even a tourist. One is a mark, an ATM if you will, and all they have to do is figure out the code. In this case, it was showing off their alacrity paddling a round vessel with a single paddle, and insisting on remuneration in exchange for permission to take their photo. This approach is employed when the traditional technique of paddling up beside where the tourists are sitting in the shade snaffling up cool liquids and sweet treats, and then begging for scraps. (The girl was good at this: she scored an almost full coconut. The lad, on the other hand, was either not pitiable or not cute enough. I think he got a couple of nuts.)

Back down under!

Just got back from three weeks in the old country. Lotsa pictures, too. As there's time, (and as was promised with the Cambodia tour), they'll get posted up.

But, speaking of pictures: apparently one of my Cambodia pictures made it onto the front page of the Travel section in the January 13 edition of the Sydney Morning Herald.

Now, that's pretty cool.