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!
Nothing wrong with shredders. Nothing wrong with having a shredder in a truck to come visit if you’ve got plenty to shred. But a truck with orange emergency-vehicle lights on top?
I guess it’d come in handy if the race was on. Who’ll get to your office first? The emergency shredder? Or the federal police with a search warrant?
Photographed on Stanmore Road, Enmore, in Sydney the other day. The Volvo is innocent.
US research shows that country music fans have the highest suicide rate. “The results of a multiple regression analysis of 49 metropolitan areas show that the greater the airtime devoted to country music, the greater the white suicide rate. The effect is independent of divorce, southernness, poverty, and gun availability.” Hat tip to The Road to Surfdom.
With little energy after last night’s massive session of Silent Hunter III, I haven’t written an original essay today. Instead, let me suggest you read two things I’ve commented upon. 1. The redoubtable Laurel Papworth‘s analysis of Corey Delaney’s page being deleted from Wikipedia. 2. Duncan Riley’s polemic on life streaming and whether we should still draw the line on privacy somewhere.
Mind you, there was one great quote on the final Parkinson, from Dame Edna Everage: “I think I’m bringing a squirt of much-needed oestrogen to the show.” Indeed, apart from Dame Judi Dench and some dodgy comedian, it was just a bunch of old farts talking about their once-great pasts.
Last night’s final episode of Michael Parkinson‘s long-running TV chat show should have been much better, given the stellar cast. The one stand-out for me was David Attenborough. Something he said reminded me of a conversation we had 24 years ago. I’ll share that episode shortly. But first, here’s the interview we did…
Sir David Attenborough hardly needs an introduction. He was in Australia promoting the TV series and book The Living Planet when I spoke with him. His previous series Life on Earth was the UK’s highest-rating ever at that time. The Living Planet looked to be heading in the same direction.
Attenborough has been a TV producer almost as long as the medium has existed.
From 1965 to 1969 he was Controller of the then-new BBC 2, followed by four years in another executive position. After 8 years behind a desk he decided he’d had enough of computers, accounting and unions, and returned to life as a producer — a decision, he says, that wasn’t hard to make.
Continue reading “Leaving room for elephants: a chat with David Attenborough”
Will former Labor leader Kim Beazley be Australia’s next Governor-General? That’s the story out of Canberra today.
As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve always liked Beazley because he’s a strategic thinker and a good orator — both skills in short supply in modern politics. He’d provide a fine counter-balance to Kevin Rudd, able to give passionate, long-ranging and doubtless wordy speeches about grand visions on grand national occasions, while Rudd gets on with the nuts and bolts of running the country.
Indeed, since Rudd’s predecessor, Prime Minister Toad, took on many of the Governor-General’s roles for himself — to the extent that virtually no-one can remember the current GG‘s name — it’d be nice for a bit of profile restored to the role of the Queen’s representative.
Beyond that, since Rudd promised to put an Australian republic back on the agenda, Beazley would make an excellent “last Governor-General”. Well-respected even by his opponents in parliament, and a man of dignity.
Beazley’s final parliamentary speech was filled with history. Even if John Howard didn’t have the manners to show up, commentators like Annabel Crabb agreed it was a fine occasion.
I’m damn sure our troops would rather be farewelled to battle with an inspiring speech by “Bomber” Beazley than a precisely-planned but self-conscious lecture from Rudd or a whining, backward-looking duck-quack from Howard.