Road trip to Alice

Some of you may be wondering what became of me during my two month absence from this blog. The most remarkable thing I did during that time was go on an impromptu road trip from Melbourne to Alice Springs. Here’s how it happened.

1. It all started with a massage. I felt I needed a bit of nurturing so I booked in for an hour’s massage with Kaylan Rha. She’s based in Leura, in the Blue Mountains. On the phone, she let me know that it might take a bit longer than an hour, because since I was a new client, she’d like to take some time to talk to me and explain her approach to healing. I was with her for three hours. No exaggeration. She only charged me for an hour, and gave me a discount because it was my first treatment with her. Not only this, but it was the most powerful massage experience I’ve ever had. Before she got me on the table, Kaylan asked me to set an intention. She suggested that I take three breaths and let something come up, rather than impose an idea. The thought that emerged was “opening.”

2. Before I had the massage, I had already decided to flee the rain and mist of Katoomba, and take a little trip to Melbourne. I texted my new Melbourne friend, Antonia (previously introduced to you as the yoga goddess/fashionista), to ask about the dates of a retreat she was going on around this time. I wanted to make sure that she wouldn’t be in meditative silence the whole time I was in the city. She texted back saying that there was one space left on the retreat and she’d booked it for me. It turned out that the retreat was a yoga retreat, and she was leading it. Post-massage, I was open to that.

3. I was hoping to catch up with Antonia before the retreat started, but she was busy. I remembered that last time I’d been in Melbourne, a similar situation had resulted in my going out to dinner with her flat-mate, a German doctor called Arne. I got in touch with him. This time he took me to a fancy tapas bar. It was very Melbourne - stylish and delicious. Particularly the oysters. I found out that Arne was about to move to Alice Springs, and would be driving there in about a week’s time.

4. After the yoga retreat, Arne sent me a text which included a memorable reference to ‘desert flowers.’

5. I had dinner at Lentil As Anything with some good friends of mine in Melbourne who happened to have been to Alice Springs last year. They strongly encouraged me to pursue an idea that had hatched, or budded, shall we say, in the by now very open field of my mind.

6. I met Arne for lunch, and asked him if he would let me come on the road trip with him. He looked astonished. He said he’d sleep on it.

7. He called the next day to ask when I was coming over. We left for Alice Springs that afternoon.

The trip was wonderful. We drove in an enormous land cruiser that Arne had purchased for his time in Alice. Before we left Melbourne, we stopped at a shop that sold stuff for enormous land cruisers and similar vehicles. It was an exclusively and seriously masculine environment. By the time we drove away with an extremely heavy car jack, I had come to see my role as a kind of fluffy accessory that came with the car. Arne had acquired about as alpha male a vehicle as a civilian man could, so it seemed no surprise that a girl (me) had turned up to hang out in it with him. I couldn’t stop laughing about this for several kilometers.

Pretty soon we were out of Melbourne, and the landscape distracted me from my role as land cruiser Barbie (well all right, not entirely, but there’s no need to go into that). Watching the country gradually change from rural land to desert as we made our way across Victoria to close to Adelaide, and then straight up the middle of Australia, was a wonderful experience. The colours were mesmerising – often subtle – and very varied and beautiful.

Once we got into the desert, there was a rhythm to the landscape, too, rising very gently and falling again, like long, slow waves. Often I had the impression that we were about to come over a rise and find the sea glittering in front of us. But of course, we were moving further and further from the ocean. Somewhere near Coober Pedy, I felt slightly panicked at the thought of this, and wondered if it would feel oppressive to stay in a place like Alice Springs, so far from the sea. But when we finally drove into Alice, we discovered a whole new landscape.

The town is ringed by beautiful ranges of ochre-coloured rock, and divided by a wide, pale yellow river bed full of magnificent gum trees. After a bit of rain, grass springs up in soft, unlikely abundance everywhere. The light is warm – and although the sea is far away, there are ridges like cresting waves in the rock formations. You could imagine that you’re bathing in an ocean of light in this place. (Honey-coloured light and oceanic feelings are not all there is to Alice Springs – there’s also an intensity of suffering, and a rawness here that can be very confronting. But that’s another blogpost.)

The fact that we’d driven here, to the centre of Australia, in just over three days, made this country seem much more intimate and accessible to me. I’d always thought of Australia as incredibly vast, a whole continent, practically impossible to traverse. Yet all it had taken to get me to the centre of this great land was an open heart and mind, a friend with a land cruiser (and a generous spirit of adventure to go with it), and a few wonderfully free days.

My Digs: Hipsters

Hi guys

I hope that spring has been treating you well.

Today I would like to talk about hipsters but before I go any further and offend anyone, let me explain one thing.

hipster glasses

LABELS

To me there is nothing wrong with labels as long as they are playful and harmless. I myself have been called a 'class clown', 'a hipster', and a 'teacher' and although at first I found those labels mildly offensive, eventuallyI was able to laugh them off. You probably wonder who a 'teacher' is. HAHA. I'm not telling you. Figure it out on your own ;). Those who know me are probably nodding in approvalthough :P.

a label – etykietka

playful – żartobliwy

harmless – nieszkodliwy, niewinny

a class clown – błazen klasowy

mildly offensive – trochę obraźliwe

eventually – ostatecznie

to laugh something off – śmiać się z czegoś

to figure something out – domyślić się czegoś

to nod – kiwać głową

in approval – z aprobatą, zgadzając się

HIPSTERS

Here's a conversation I had the other day. It's about a pub/ bar in Poznań, Poland.

Friend: So how do you like this place?

Me: Yeah, I guess it's cool. I like the décor. If only there weren't so many hipsters here.

Friend: Hipsters?

Me: Yep, hipsters. Take a good look around you.

a few seconds pass

Friend: I guess you're right. Why didn't I see it before?

Me: I'm asking myself that too. <laughter>.

A pub (British English) and a bar (American English) are the same thing.

décor – wystój

I'm asking myself that too. – Sama się zastanawiam.

labels

I'm not going to reveal the name of the place in case I want to go there again. But if anyone is curious, its name starts with the letter M and it's the longer one. Sounds cryptic? It's supposed to ;)

to reveal – ujawniać

curious – ciekawi

cryptic – zagadkowy, tajemniczy

It's supposed to. – tut. Właśnie takie ma być.

Ok, but who are hipsters? They're those art major people who wear thick-rimmed glasses and mix second-hand patternedshirts (striped, checked, floral) with ZARA and H&M trousers (or the other way round). They like to think of themselves as unique and edgy. That's why in pretty much every conversation they name-drop philosophers, musicians and authors that you have never heard of and have no interest in. They go to cinemas with chairs that hurt your bum and gravitate towards bohemian pubs. They also insist on using iPhones and wearing cool trainers. Really edgy.

But that's just about hipsters in Poland. American hipsters have gone well past that.

art major people – studenci ASP ;)

thick-rimmed (glasses) – (okulary) w grubych oprawkach

patterned – wzorzyste

striped – w paski

checked – w kratkę

floral – w kwiaty

edgy – z (zadziornym) charakterem

to name-drop – rzucać znanymi nazwiskami

a bum – pupa

to gravitate towards – lgnąć do

to insist on doing something – upierać się przy czymś, robić coś zawsze

They have gone well past that. – Zaszli o wiele dalej.

HIPSTERS IN AMERICA

 

TOO MAINSTREAM

Hipsters enjoy the unknown and the obscure. They stop liking a band or an author as soon as they become popular.

(The text in blue are quotes from Shit Hipsters Say videos on YouTube).

I liked it before it was popular.

You probably never heard of it.

Hey, I might start using a discman again.

No, I don't have a Facebook.

Their first album was better.

the unknown – wszystko co nieznane

the obscure – rzeczy mało znane, niejasne, ukryte

PRETENTIOUS

Hipsters have a smug sense of superiority. They are so self-absorbedthat every one of them has a blog in which they share their enlightened viewswith the uncool public and other hipsters, whom they secretlydespise. They don't dance at concerts and enjoy foreign films with subtitles.

It totally sounds better on vinyl.

Do you wanna start a band?

Vinyl sounds so clear.

Usually when I have to bring a girl back to my place, like to gauge where she's at, I put on Nickelback and if she likes it, I kick her out.

Have you read my blog?

pretentious – pretensjonalny

smug – zadowolony z siebie

a sense of superiority – poczucie wyższości

self-absorbed – pochłonięci sobą

enlightened – oświecone

to despise – gardzić

foreign films with subtitles – zagraniczne filmy z napisami

a vinyl – płyta winylowa

put on (music) – włączyć

to gauge – ocenić, zmierzyć

where she's at – jaka jest, jakiej muzyki słucha

to kick somebody out – wyrzucić kogoś (z domu)

 

FAIR TRADE/ ORGANIC/ INDEPENDENT

Hipsters support independent artists and choose fair-trade organic produce over regular people food. They tend to be skinny and “are usually less than 5% body fat”. They also eat children's cereal.

Do you guys have a vegan menu?

Do you know if this is organic?

independent – niezależny

fair-trade – sprawiedliwy handel, fair-trade

organic – ekologiczna

produce – nieprzetworzona żywność

regular people food – jedzenie dla normalnych ludzi

cereal – płatki

vegan – wegańskie

CAMERA

“Every hipster needs a camera. They'll take pictures, put them in black and white and they're automatically photographers. You will find them “crawling around in the woods taking photographs of dead leafs.”

I will totally instagram this.

to crawl – czołgać się

to instagram something – zrobić czemuś zdjęcie i wstawić je na stronę Instagram.com

WANNABE ARTISTS

'They also write – most will attemptpoetry, or a novel, which will be setin a far-offfantasy world with characters named "Takeshi" and "Riku".'

Would you mind proofreading my novel?

wannabe artist – pozujący na artystę

to attempt – próbować (swoich sił w)

a novel – powieść

set – tut. toczyć się (o akcji)

far-off – odległy

to proofread – dokonywać korekty

Family Planning Needed

That duck needs to know about family planning!

I'm Still Alive

Hi.

Sorry for the long absence. I know you've all noticed.

Guys?

Oh.

Well, for anyone who's still there, I just want to say that I think about blogging every day. Doesn't mean I do it though. That's because I am SO CLOSE to finishing my novel and I'm also working on creating a new blog--in that order.

So, how are your lives? What have you been up to? Or down to?

Funny Baby Pictures 2012

Funny Baby

 Funny Baby Ads Picture

 Funny Baby Picture

 Funny Baby Picture

 Funny Baby Picture

Funny Baby Fat Picture

Esoteric utilitarianism

Peter Singer and an unidentified goat

Last week I went to a talk by Australian philosopher Peter Singer at the University of Melbourne that got me thinking (the lack of activity on this blog for the last couple of months might suggest that I needed the stimulus…). He spoke about an “esoteric” form of utilitarianism.

Utilitarians aim to bring about the greatest possible cumulative happiness or well-being. Some have argued that that in order to pursue this goal most effectively, it is necessary for committed utilitarians to keep quiet about their true beliefs about what morality requires. Rather than provoking resistance with ideas that would be likely to seem too demanding to non-utilitarians, they should publically proclaim a less demanding standard, suggesting that a person could fulfill their moral duties by donating 10% of their income to reputable international aid organisations, for instance, when they privately believe the figure should be closer to 50%, say.

The genuine utilitarian beliefs then become “esoteric,” that is, shared only among the initiated, while any public statements are carefully modulated to produce the best achievable outcome, taking into account the psychological traits and points of resistance in the people they aim to influence. Esoteric utilitarians will praise outsiders for actions that fall short of what utilitarian morality requires, and refrain from blaming them for their failure to meet utilitarian standards if this is shown to be counter-productive. Only a level of blame that actually causes the desired changes in behavior will be employed.

One member of the audience pointed out that this approach conflicts with the Kantian moral standard which holds that to tell the truth is a primary and universal duty, which should never be compromised in order to achieve desired ends, however laudable. Singer responded by saying that he is comfortable with this conflict. He doesn’t accept Kant’s view that one should never lie, even if a murderer is asking you about the whereabouts of his next victim. Sometimes you have good reasons, moral reasons, to lie. For a utilitarian, these reasons are tied to the consequences of the lie: the morality of any action is to be judged by examining its consequences, not by comparing it to any list of absolute (or deontological) duties.

Henry Sidgwick, 19th century
English philosopher,
defender of esoteric utilitarianism

I had a worry about Singer’s approach that was similar, but not tied to Kantian morality. My concern was that the tactics of esoteric utilitarianism seem manipulative, particularly in using praise and blame to attempt to influence people’s behavior. I asked Singer if there wasn’t a conflict here with the spirit of utilitarianism, which asks us to think through the consequences of our actions, and act accordingly, even if this means going against commonly held ideas about what is moral or in other ways socially endorsed (which typically requires resisting social pressure exerted in the form of praise and blame). When it emerged in the Nineteenth century, utilitarianism was designed precisely to challenge the power of esoteric elites like the aristocracy and the Church, and promote policies based on the idea that in the utilitarian moral calculus, everyone counts, and everyone counts equally. 

I also suggested that taking up praise and blame as tools to influence others seems a risky strategy for the utilitarian. If people are encouraged to allow such influences to determine their actions, this may reinforce their vulnerability to other "esoteric" sources of praise and blame which are likely to be much more powerful than anything utilitarians have at their disposal – for instance the forces of advertising in the service of consumerism, which urge you to give up to 50% of your income to your mobile phone company, say.

Again, Singer couldn’t see any problem. He repeated the basic argument that for the utilitarian the end justifies the means. He didn’t seem concerned that in this case the consequences of the strategy might include weakening people’s moral characters, or at least reinforcing a tendency to allow social approval and disapproval to override any more rational or independently thought-through motives for action. Singer is happy to adopt the strategies used in advertising – this is a powerful, effective way to influence behavior in contemporary society.

He gave an example: a television ad to promote work safety practices which (if I remember his description correctly) shows someone coming to a family home to break the news that the father of the family has been killed in an accident at work. The ad is highly emotive, depicting the distress of a young child at this news. Singer said that since it has been screening, work safety incidents have declined appreciably. The technique used to achieve this may be emotionally manipulative, but it works, and the outcome is good.

This reminded me of a similar ad I saw at the cinema in Paddington in Sydney, last year. It was about the consequences of speeding, posing questions like: what would you choose, to be late for a meeting, or to end up as a paraplegic? The audience laughed – the combination of the choose-your-own-adventure style with such obvious scare tactics was too much for us. This reaction suggests another problem with using emotionally manipulative means to pursue utilitarian ends – if people are not naively drawn in by the technique, they will see through it, and tend to resist or dismiss the message even if they might otherwise endorse the end it seeks to promote. No one likes to be patronized. Even if the end justifies the means, the use of manipulative means may end up discrediting the end, or the theory behind it.

Guest Blogger - Growing up in the 1960's South

Guest Blogger Berkley Clayton takes a trip down memory lane...

 Growing up in the 1960's South

I want to write about growing up in Capitola in eastern Leon County, FL.  For people here in the Leon County area of North Florida, Capitola is a suburb of Chaires!!

I specifically want to talk about my grandmother and her parents on my father’s side.  My grandmother’s father was named Wilson Decatur Boyd and her mother was Nellie Whiddon (Boyd).  Both of them were born in the 1880’s and raised in the area in and around Monticello, FL.  He called her “Nellie” and she called him “Mr. Boyd”.  Prior to their death in the mid 1960’s I never heard one call the other anything but “Nellie” and “Mr. Boyd”. 

When I was born in the mid 1950’s my great grandparents were in their 70’s.  To me, my brother and my sister they were known as Grandma and Dindiddy.  (Don’t ask me how or why he had that name, it was before my time!) (Editors note, rap names

.......... were big in the 50's?)

Dindiddy’s father fought with Company E, 1^st Regiment, Infantry Reserve, Confederate States Army, 

during the Civil War.  Some of the State of Florida Civil War paperwork indicates he was discharged “south of Baldwin” in January 1865 which is near Jacksonville.

Dindiddy was a farmer all his life.  I have a color picture of him sitting on a horse in front of the barn that was by the house in Capitola.  That barn was partially destroyed by a small tornado that went through Capitola in February 2008.  It also destroyed the same white three bedroom house where my father was born and where my great grandparents had lived. 

Grandma’s mother was a teenager during the Civil War and her father owned slaves.   Dead long before I was born, I still have the Fashion Southern Calendar clock.........

..... that Grandma’s mother  bequeathed to my grandmother upon her death. Patented in 1876, it still keeps excellent time.  My first memory of Grandma was of her outside in a bonnet, dress almost to her ankles with laced up high top black shoes, raking leaves in the yard and pushing them into a fire to burn them.  No bagging leaves and putting them by the curb back then!!   Dindiddy was there helping, wearing a long sleeve khaki shirt and khaki pants.  I can’t remember ever seeing him in anything else.  When he was outside he wore a beige Stetson hat ........

.....and you better never touch that hat.

Both of them lived with my father’s parents in a three bedroom white house in Capitola. My grandparents used the back bedroom and Grandma and Dindiddy slept in the front bedroom.  This bedroom had a fireplace and a lot of cold winter nights were spent in that room watching the 19” black and white TV on a rolling cart.  (This writer spent a lot of time carrying wood into that room so they would be warm in the winter.) ...

Rawhide and the Beverly Hillbillies were favorite shows that they watched. (Don’t talk while they were watching TV.) Grandma would sit in a small rocking chair and Dindiddy would sit in wooden straight back chair.  He chewed.....

Bloodhound plug tobacco and dipped Honey Bee snuff from a small can and would spit tobacco juice into the fire at regular intervals.  My grandmother and Grandma would tell him to stop spitting in the fire. He ignored them both.   He would sit on the front porch of the house; feet propped up on the railing, and spit tobacco over the railing into the azaleas.  My grandmother tried to get him to spit in the Maxwell House coffee can she gave him for that reason, but of course he ignored her. I can still see in my mind the spots of tobacco juice on the ground just over the railing off the front porch.   

Grandma and Dindiddy were married 50 years at the time of my early memories of them.  They slept in the same feather bed together every night that they were alive.  (I hope I live long enough to be married that long.)   I can still hear them arguing back and forth of some incidental thing.  As young as I was then, I knew my great grandfather would say things to her just to get her to react in some way to what he said.  Even with that, when they sat on the front porch together in side by side rocking chairs they would hold hands. 

Grandma would kill chickens............

.... in the barnyard by ringing their necks and putting them in a kettle of hot water to pull the feathers.  I was with her one day and wanted to “wring the chicken’s neck”.  She did not want me to do it and I finally talked her into it.  I took it and made one turn and let go.  Of course the chicken was just pissed off and ran away.  Grandma was mad too since she had to go and catch the same chicken again. 

By the time I got old enough to realize what was going on, they were both in their 80’s and starting to fail.  Grandma could still cook good biscuits though....

  Almost as good as my grandmother!!!  She tended to half bake the one’s she made, since she made them for “Mr. Boyd.” 

Grandma had a stroke in 1965.  My grandmother, my grandfather and my mom and dad got a hospital bed and put it in their bedroom.  She died several days later due to complications from that stroke.  Dindiddy

I wish that I could take the video equipment that we have today and go back and talk with my great grandparents about the Civil War and WWI and WWII.  To be able to talk with someone whose mother and father lived through the Civil War would have been an awesome thing.  Just think of the information and insight of being able to talk with someone like that!!   I would say to anyone that reads this get a video camera and interview your parents and grandparents.....

... and put it on CD or DCD or anything. Your children will thank you for it one day.  My kids will never have any knowledge of my great grandparents because there is nothing left of them other than one or two old photos and none of video/tape recordings.   

As an aside: I “interviewed” both of my grandmothers while they were still alive about what it was like in Florida and Texas in the early 1900s.  I have had the VHS tape transferred to DVD.  That is something that I will always treasure and remember. 

- BC

   

Funny Hen Rider

Thank god its hen ! If it would be male i had to call that guy a cock rider !

Global Warming

Funny Frog

Somebody help me, my ass is ripping apart ! - Frog 

The Sexy Kid

How to Sunbathe

Catching Up Blog World

I've been getting "tagged" a lot recently. Meaning fellow bloggers want me to participate in bloggy things. This sudden status of being "It" could mean one of two things. 1) I'm suddenly cool. I have left the nerd ranks and I'm climbing up Coolness Mountain. Or 2) My friends realize how lame my blog is, and they're trying to help me. Because, let's face it, sometimes we just need HELP.

I'm guessing it's 2.

I've posted all three at once--and if I tagged you feel free to pick and choose, or not do any.


So, my writer chum BR Myers nominated me for a blog award called...the Liebster Blog. See?

Liebster probably means "lobster" in German or something. But basically it's an award for losers like me who have less than 200 followers. Not that Bethany thinks I'm a loser. Not that people who have less than 200 followers are losers. DEFINITELY NOT. Ok, that pretty undoes everything I just said, except the part about lobster.

Moving on.

The rules for accepting the award are as follows:

1. Thank the person who gave you the award and link back to them.
-Thank you, Bethany!
2. Nominate up to 5 others for the Liebster Award.
3. Let said bloggers know via comment on their blog.
4. Post the award on your blog.
-I'll think about it.

The second tag I received is from my friend Rachel Pudelek. 

 

Here Are The Rules:
1) Go to page 77 or your current MS
2) Go to line 7
3) Copy down the next 7 lines as they're written--no  cheating
4) Tag 7 other writers
5) Let them know

I drew from my Pansytale novel that I queried last year. It's on hold right now (needs a little more work) while I finish my new novel.

“Malogro,” Felipe cried, rolling on the floor with his paws tied together. “You have saved my life! I am eternally grateful to you, O noble ogre. I will serve you forever. I’ll bring you cold lemonade every morning. I’ll––I’ll sing to you every hour. I’ll––”

“Do nothing of the sort,” Malogro jumped in hastily. He untied Felipe’s feet. “I owed you one for taking me on your hat to see the world.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Felipe replied just as hastily, happy to be freed from servitude.

Pretty self explanatory.

The third award is from Deana Barnhart. 

1. Favorite Color: Black--and Purple (a tie)

2. Favorite Animal: cat

3. Favorite Number: 8

4. Favorite drink: water

5. Facebook or Twitter: twitter

6. My passion: writing

7. Getting or Giving presents: I like giving when it's spontaneous. If the recipient is expecting it I'm too nervous that they won't like it.

8. Favorite Pattern: zebra

9. Favorite Day of the Week: Um. Any day I can write.
10. Favorite Flower: lilacs or honeysuckle - because of their scent.

Most bloggers I know have already done these awards, so I only tagged 3 new "its." Check out their blogs!

Lisa Marie 

Joseph Ramirez

Michael Horvath 

By the way, "Liebster" means "beloved" or "dearest"in German. It has nothing to do with lobsters.