Word-whore. I write 'em. I talk 'em. Information, politics, media, and the cybers. I drink. I use bad words. All publication is a political act. All communication is propaganda. All art is pornography. All business is personal. All hail Eris! Vive les poissons rouges sauvages!
In December 2020 the Australian government finally released the report of the the Comprehensive review of the legal framework of the National Intelligence Community, which was actually completed a year earlier. It includes this very handy chronology of the development of Australia’s national intelligence community.
Continue reading “Richardson Review: Chronology of Australia’s national intelligence community”
During my week of Monday 11 to Sunday 17 January 2021 the “situation” in the United States really was quite distracting. It’s hard to take your eyes off the world’s most powerful nation tearing itself apart. Still, I did get that Quiz livestream happening.
Continue reading “Weekly Wrap 555: Laughing in Thai as the world burns”
Wasn’t the week of Monday 4 to Sunday 10 January 2021 just weird, what with the failed putsch in the US and everything else? It was distracting, and I’ll talk about that another time, but I did manage to get a couple of things done.
Continue reading “Weekly Wrap 554: Dutch ship, American putsch, and the launch of a quiz”
The decision has been made! Yes, I’m doing a pilot series of a livestreamed pub-style quiz. The 8pm Quiz starts this Thursday 14 January 2021 at 8pm AEDT and runs for three weeks. It’ll be streamed via YouTube. Read on for the details.
Continue reading “Announcing “The 8pm Quiz””
This time last year it was all about bushfire smoke. But this year my transition week of Monday 28 December 2020 to Sunday 3 January 2021 saw almost continual light rain as La Niña made her presence felt, and continued concerns over that little ol’ global pandemic.
Continue reading “Weekly Wrap 553: Lichen, La Niña, and lingering fears as 2020 recedes into the past”
What a year! At the end of 2020 we can’t even gather people in a pub to talk about how terrible it was. Well we can. But we shouldn’t. So we didn’t. We did this instead.
Continue reading “The 9pm Year of Brain Worms, Drama, and Despair”