The Shadow

Memory

2008-08-26T23:47:00.001+10:00

All too often...
I forget the things I want to remember
And remember the things I want to forget.

Half full or half fool?

2008-08-26T23:08:00.003+10:00

The difference between an optimist and a pessimist?
The optimist says: "The shadow proves the sunshine."
The pessimist says: "The shadow improves the sunshine."

The Red Centre

2008-08-20T20:49:00.003+10:00

Alice Springs is a place that rocks.
But all that sand ends up in your socks.
It makes you see red!

Once smitten, twice shy

2008-08-07T22:41:00.002+10:00

Sigh...
Why?
Alas and alack (thereof)

Cast your eyes this way

2007-08-07T23:40:00.000+10:00

Fear not, faithful readers -- The Shadow is being cast once more. Unlike Ben Hur, it's not a cast of thousands. I'm not even casting my net on the other side. Perhaps I should.

It's been a while but now it's back I can promise that, as always, the Shadow will be egalitarian. It's got something for you whether you're high caste, low caste or somewhere-in-between caste. Even, dare I say it, if you are an outcast.

So welcome back to the blog that never leaves you feeling outclassed.

Just don't castigate me for the absence.

Don't junk the junket III

2007-06-11T01:47:00.000+10:00

Welcome to The Shadow in the Netherlands. Just got in today and am loving it muchly but am quite tired and have to be somewhere in a miunute.

The most surprising highlight was going past two games of cricket on the trani from Amsterdam to Rotterdam. The lowlight was the lack of sleep I has in the 24 hours in in the air and in transit.

Hopefully some pics will follow in the next few days.

Is Christianity like cricket?

2007-05-29T23:07:00.000+10:00

When you're a saint in 'bad form' and stuck on a sticky wicket; when the ball's not coming onto the bat; when you manage to hit it but you don't quite time it right or hit it straight to a fielder every time; when you're footwork is not smooth; when the ball looks more like a golf ball than a beachball; when the opposition crowd is giving you heaps; when all of this makes you doubt everything you know...what do you do?

Do you just try and bat yourself back into form; do you try and give as much strike away as possible; do you let more than usual go through to the keeper; do you come out of your crease and take a risk?

Howzat!

News to hand

2007-05-15T22:07:00.000+10:00

A panel of expert judges has declared the University of Newcastle (UNCLE) to be the most avuncular in Australia.

The announcement came after a gruelling 18 month testing period which saw the country's top tertiary institutions being put through their paces.

"In the end, we just thought it was the uni that you'd most want to kick a footy around the backyard with. It also had some great yarns and the best range of fart jokes!" said senior researcher, Uncle Bob.

In response, a spokesperson for the University of Sydney suggested no-one behind the Sandstone Curtain really cares.

"Some people are interested in which uni shares the most characteristics with their favourite uncle. Others aren't," she said.

Text or be hexed?

2007-05-10T23:47:00.000+10:00

Proving that the last will at least be penultimate, The Shadow casts itself once again, and this time with one of the great dilemmas of our mobile age:

What degree of lateness requires an explanatory text message?

If you're five minutes late for an appointment do you have to say "sry im l8"? What about two minutes? Half a minute? Where do you draw the line?

So far I've looked at the time factor but does the type of appointment make a difference or not? Do you send an SMS when you're ten minutes late for a casual coffee, but also when you're ten seconds late for an important meeting?

What about who you're meeting up with? What about how you're getting there - surely if the other person knows you're on a city rail train you don't need to explain!

I think this is one for the great mathematicians of our time. Who can come up with the formula that reflects the relationship between all these factors.

But they'd better hurry. The solution to this problem is long overdue!

The Last Post

2007-04-25T23:05:00.000+10:00

No, this is not the end of The Shadow - just an ANZAC Day tribute.

Lest we forget.

Fair dinkum, you could bowl me over with a purple feather!

2007-04-15T22:31:00.000+10:00

This afternoon I hopped in my car, drove through a copule of suburbs and found myself in a place that seemed remarkably like a set in one of those you-beaut, true-blue, ridgy-didge, dinky-di 'Australian films'. And I was pretending to be French.

As a member of that famous institution, The McNeilly Park Boules Club, I was on the innaugural excursion to the Canterbury Bowling and Sydney Petanque Club. We were in search of the real deal; the masters at lazily tossing metal balls around a patch of rammed earth; some little snails in full flight. Primed and ready for boules (boul-ay) the French way.

But that was not what we got. The Petanque-ers were not there and when we rocked up we were met by a handful of hardened, old codgers chancing their arms on the green with their biased balls. There was not a 'Bonjour' to be heard, nor a baguette to be seen. Unfortunately there were no boules either.

Instead, we found ourselves in the natural habitat of the Aussie Battler and these battlers were doing what all battlers do best: standing in defiance against the greedy, penny pinching big wigs from the other end of town.

In the all but forgotten atmosphere of the smoky club room with Reschs on tap, a man who looked like a Norm - and was probably club president - and his mate who looked like a Mal told us the story. A big property developer in the pockets of both major parties, had big plans for the site. Some large blocks of flats had just gone up next door and the developer was keen to set a nine-storey precedent right where we sat.

"Can you imagine how much this land is worth?" asked Mal.

"They'll only ever sell it over my dead body," retorted Norm.

I half expected Mick Molloy to waltz in from the carpark and say 'G'day'.

It was the Quinessential Australian Narrative (QAN) being played out before our very eyes - the underdog fighting back to save what was rightfully his. But this time it was real.

Ever since the Aborigines were forced off their land the story's been repeating iteslf across the country. It's just the vibe of the thing. You can smell it in the air at the crack of dawn . . . and if a man's home is his castle, then the local bowling club is his country manor. You'd have to be a cane toad lover to think anything else. Just ask Sam Kekovich.

In this day and age, we may not be able to put the QAN back into QANTAS as it's about to be flogged to the highest bidder, but that's no reason to give up.

That's why I'm happy to see Norm and Mal and their mates hanging in there. And you can too. On Sunday 29 April down Canertbury way the bowlers will be bowling, the petanque-ers will be petanque-ing and the bocci-ers will be bocci-ing. There'll be music, a barbeque and plenty of fluid - as well as the guy who does mornings on 2SM.

You probably won't see Mick Molloy - though I'm sure he'd fit right in - but you will be able to find out Norm and Mal's real names as you battle it out with the best of the battlers.

Hero-doting

2007-04-11T23:31:00.000+10:00

Reading and hearing about the movie '300' recently, led me back to a favourite old book of mine, Herodotus's The Histories. In late high school I fell in love with this work while studying the Persians.

The so-called Father of History, the main aim of this epic work was to explain the origins of the clash between the Persians and the Greeks in the early 5th century. To do this, he went around and spoke to all sorts of people, finding out their stories and customs.

And the thing that really attracted me to Herodotus as he did this was his ability to tell a ripping yarn. Some of them are quite fanciful, but he's aware of that himself. In The Histories he said:

"My business is to record what people say, but I am by no means bound to believe it -- and that may be taken to apply to this book as a whole."

I'm no historian and know relatively little about Herodotus but here are two tales from his work that stuck with me.

When Cyrus, Emperor of Persia went out to fight the distinguished Lydian cavalry, he got his soldiers to mount the camels that were normally used as pack-animals. Why?

"The reason for confronting the Lydian cavalry with camels was the instinctive fear which they inspire in horses. No horse can endure the sight or smell of a camel."

Herodotus also shares a little of the family history of Otanes, the Persian governor of the Ionian coast some years later.

"Otanes' father Sisamnes had been put to death by Cambyses [Cyrus's son]: He was one of the royal judges and as a punishment for taking a bribe and perverting the course of justice Cambyses had him flayed; all his skin was torn off and cut into strips, and the strips stretched across the seat of the chair which he used to sit on in the Court. Cambyses then appointed his son to be judge in his place, and told him not to forget what his chair was made of, when he gave his judgments."

How good is that?

Nothing stems the flow of plugs

2007-04-03T22:41:00.000+10:00

Now I've started plugging, I can't stop. On Good Friday tune your TV to Channel 9 at midday to see an animation based on the book of Revelation, produced by my work colleague, Simon Twist.
I had the privillege of being able to see the first sketches on the bus a couple of months back. It should be good to see the finished thing.

There's hardly a more powerful message than "I am the living one! Look, I was dead but now I am alive!"

So if you get a chance to see it, let me know what you think.

Speaking of Mr Twist reminds me of another plugging opportunity.

TWISt (at St Clement's) is the place to be for all high school aged people in Marrickville on Sundays at 4.30. We start back again after the school holidays on 22 April. Spread the word!

Sideshow Man casts his shadow on a bigger stage

2007-03-25T21:58:00.000+10:00

SCOOP: The Shadow's favourite artist and movie maker has hit another milestone with Songs From Illawarra Road. Peter McGuiness's avant-garde debut film that introduced the enigmatic and now iconic figure 'Slideshow Man' to the world, will screened at the Newtown Flicks short film festival.

The Director describes the film in the following way:

“A groovy trippy journey into Marrickville and the Chinese signs that inspire my abstract paintings - think Koyananiqatsi meets Bruce Lee,” Peter McGuiness.

For more musings from Pedro, tune in to FBi 94.5FM at 8.20pm on Tuesday night.

The vital details for the Newtown Flicks screening are:

Time: 6pm (Documentary session)
Date: Saturday 31 March
Venue: Newtown Theatre
Cost: $20 (for one session)

Viva Slideshow Man!

Don't junk the junket II (Living on the edge)

2007-03-22T00:30:00.000+11:00

I'm reporting from the sunny Gold Coast on another junket. I've got access to Fox Sports which mean I can watch the World Cup live and that's definitely a plus.

I got a new nickname this time. From now on, I'm Edge instead of Scoop (you can just stick to Tim or tdix if you prefer)

Also on the junket front, today the possibility emerged of a trip to Malta and the Netherlands later on this year. No more details at the moment but certainly not something to be junked!

Which is better: Scoop or Edge?

How are you?

2007-03-13T23:04:00.000+11:00

Along with counting to ten, saying "How are you?" and "Well thanks" in a foreign language is not too difficult - and it can be quite fun to add to the list of languages in which you know how to make basic greetings.

Recently I've been Balkanizing myself by spending time with a Macedonian and an Albanian and, as you can probably tell, they've been teaching me snippets of their language.

I was feeling pretty chuffed to be able to 'communicate' in such 'random' languages and it got me thinking: how many more weird and wonderful languages could I add to my repertiore.

So dear reader, I'm turning to you. In which language(s) can you say "How are you?" and respond appropriately?

I'd especially like to hear from you if you have an unusual or a dead language, but all the well-known ones are welcome too. It's all about quantity as well as quality here.

To start the ball rolling, I'll share Macedonian and Albanian.

Macedonian: Kakosi? Doba

Albanian: Sijeni? Mir

Driving (you) crazy

2007-03-07T23:10:00.000+11:00

I have a car again for the first time since poor old Richie was taken off to be scrapped.

It is the second car I have owned.

It is the second car built in the 1980s I have owned.

It is the second Mitsubishi I have owned.

It is the second manual car I have owned.

It is the second car I have owned but not bought.

It is brown with cream panels; the first car was cream with a brown panel.

It's numberplate is nowhere as good as the first car's, but it goes much better.

The challenge: what is a suitable nickname for the Magna? Any suggestions better than Richie Benaud II will be greatly appreciated.

Thanks to God, Paul and the people at St. John's Wilberforce.

Don't junk the junket

2007-02-27T21:08:00.000+11:00

The Shadow is back and this time it's personal.

Below is a list of things that happened on my recent Albury trip.

- I got a new nickname: 'Scoop'. I don't think it will last.

- I got to read the newspaper that Timt holds so dear: the Herald Sun. It does seem to have something on The Daily Telegraph.

- I was, for a short while, in a state of confusion: Victoria. It was a nice confusion though at the All Saints Estate (Wahgunyah).

Who's taking minutes?

2007-02-18T23:13:00.000+11:00

I've been to a number of planning meetings recently and my over-brainstormed brain stormed off in protest a while ago. At every turn agendas are being itemised, whiteboards are being lavishly covered with mind maps and precious minutes (even hours on some occasions) are being taken from my life.

It's not that I'm completely averse to planning or meetings - it's just that they don't seem to mix too well.

It's well known that many hands make light work, but many heads are usually problematic. Planning is like cooking; too many planners spoil the plot.

Also, when you have a group of people gathered in a confined space with high expectations, a strong sense of urgency and a nagging desire to be sitting on the beach you're bound to get awkward silences. And unfortunately, awkward silences are almost always filled with inane suggestions and insane projections.

Perhaps most importantly, they're just plain boring.

But never fear. I've been working away in the shadows and I've come up with some ideas to make the unavoidable task of planning, a bit more interesting:

- Planning meatings: Set your goals and draft your actions the Aussie way, around a barbeque. If things start to go downhill you can blame it all on the underdone snags.

- Plane-ing meetings: Hurtle into the future as you hurtle across the globe at 10,000 feet.

That was all I could come up with. I'm afraid I'm in need of a bit of feedback and some fresh perspectives. I propose we get together to sort it all out. Check your diaries and let me know when you're free. I'll just bash out a brief list of things to discuss and when we get together, we should have it sorted in no time. . .

On a more serious note, the last planning meeting I went to was quite exciting. A few of the churches in Marrickville are working together to get a combined Youth Group up and running. Your prayers and suggestions would be appreciated.

I can't believe it's not butterfly

2007-02-13T23:19:00.000+11:00

Thinking specially of you, dear Shadow dweller, here's one from the vault:

If I were a butterfly,
I'd thank you Lord for giving me wings.
But I am a lite, polyunsaturated 98% fat free margarine-fly
And when people see me they just cry:

"I can't believe it's not butterfly,
I can't believe it's not butterfly,
I can't believe it's not butterfly,
I can't believe it's not butterfly!"

Just imagine what would happen if that one spread.

mX - sure to vex and perplex

2007-02-07T22:56:00.000+11:00

It's not easy saying no. No, that's not entirely true - in the blogosphere it's not too difficult. But when you're hurrying for the train in the afternoon and some poor, hapless critter in an oversized T shirt stands in your way holding out a free newspaper it certainly is.

As you lift your head, your eyes inevitably meet the plaintive gaze of the paper peddler and all of a sudden, the prospect of something to hold your attention through all the stand-clear-doors-closings seems appealing. It seems like a good deal.

Then you actually try to read the thing.

When you're standing on the platform wondering where on earth CityRail has managed to hide your train, the last thing you want to read is a mass-gripe on the hopeless state of the rail network. It's bad enough waiting without the chorus of complaints. When you're down, why kick yourself?

After the train has finally arrived and you find yourself nestled between an obliging armpit and a metal pole dripping with sweat, the latest goss from the lives of the rich and famous and the latest lies from the sick "don't-blame-us" mob down in Macquarie St don't really hit the mark either.

There are no real redeeming features. The cute snippets of trivia are worse than trivial, and the quirky dog-that-does-long-multiplication-while-juggling-and-standing-on-it's-head story is bad enough at the end of a TV news bulletin - in print it's just dumb. The rag has no substance, it's a complete bore and it leaves you feeling like you've wasted the time spent reading. And - worst of all - it turns you into a real whinger.

Well, you may say, what do you expect? It is free after all. Yes, I say, that is true, and I no longer seek to read it at all. I take a good book with me instead, but that doesn't help me avoid the wretched thing when I'm rushing to the station in the afternoon.

Then I say no. Repeatedly. Every time I pass one of the paper pushers I'm forced to say it and then they all stare back at me with that pitiful, empty gaze as I continue guiltily on my way. It's not easy but deep down I think it's the better thing to do.

Shadow Poll: What do you think? Have your say here. Which is worse - taking the trashy tabloid and reading it, or saying no?

Reflection, on Australia Day (or thereabouts)

2007-01-27T00:05:00.000+11:00

One great benefit of working full time, as opposed to various combinations of study and work, is that it helps you realise how good public holidays are.

And if joy is the flag flown high from the castle of your heart, let it wave, and be ready to tell someone why.

Portaloo, I was just busting to go to you*

2007-01-19T11:38:00.000+11:00

Last night I went to see the film that leaves you feeling flushed with national pride, 'Kenny'. Although it was quite original in its choice of subject -- the portable toilet industry -- it had the smell of a Working Dog production or any other of those you beaut 'Strayan films.

It delighted in a strange sort of inverted pretentiousness, gleefully rolling about in its own underdog excrement, and the potty jokes were at a pipe-blocking premium. In fact, at times it seemed the entire film was a vehicle for dumping a steaming pile of whopping toilet humour on a very willing public.

Don't get the wrong idea. I don't want to be a party poo-per, and I was quite impressed with the amount of laughs that can be scraped from the bottom of the pan. It's quite catching, as you can see, and there were some great one liners.

But it just felt like there was something missing at the other end. Even I get sick of something that goes into overkill when taking the piss, so to speak. At first Kenny's lisp-type thing which leaves him saying 'sh' instead of 's' is kind of funny. But after he's ploughed through a script that has him saying 'sit' and 'city' a thousand times it's more than just a tad silly.

On a more serious note, after watching 'Kenny', you can't go to the toilet in a public place without thinking. But when you lift the lid on this one it's not too pretty. Maybe I'm too sensitive about this issue, or perhaps The Overflow just isn't a good venue for a film about toilets. Whatever the reason, it didn't bowl me over.

*To be sung to the tune of 'Waterloo' by Abba

I'm still thinking, therefore I'm still amming

2007-01-15T11:43:00.000+11:00

It's been a while since I've posted but a fair bit's happened. I'd like to say an awful lot has happened but that might be a slight exaggeration.

Just after my last post I went away for a week and a half for Gerroa SUFM which was a tough but encouraging time. Progress as I like to see it was not prolific and I felt as if I were beset by one of Screwtape's buddies. But I saw some great examples in my brothers and sisters and shared in some great conversations.

Since I got back I started at my new job and had my last shift at my old job, in that order. I'm looking forward to having Saturdays free but I'll miss having time off during the week. To be frank (I've been banned from saying "To be honest"), there's a lot more that I'm not going to miss.

I sent off one of my best mates from uni with the whole MECO crowd and he's already spent his first weekend in Melbourne. Another friend, this one from church, is now considering jumping across the harbour. But then another friend, a wise thinker and prolific blogger, is preparing to move from quite a distant locale to a not-too-distant one.

The world is a changing place.

At the end of these last three weeks though, my mind is all shadows. I have thought a lot but now that I've paused to gather all my thoughts, I realise I have nothing to say that is worth saying.

And to prove to you that the world is in a state of flux, I won't push on regardless.

Christmas Wrap

2006-12-26T22:21:00.000+11:00

Jesus was born in most humble circumstances and his coming was announced to fairly common shepherds, but the kings of the earth rushed to admire and worship him. It sounds like "the best of both worlds". But even better is this: God jumping into the one world he made and loves to restore it to its glory-giving-to-Him-best.

The entire globe is His handiwork, lovingly crafted and known. This is the God who made the people of Nineveh and Jonah . . . and the plant.

God 'enfleshed' is a guarantee of hope because it points to His commitment to all that He has made. God strung up then risen up is hope because it is the way -- but equally importantly now, it is the model. Consider Christ, God as man.

He was obedient to His Father in pursuit of his loving relationship with the world he made and loves. It was good enough for God to jump into and thereby, assert it was His to be cherished and made new -- perfect.

The best of God's world. What a great privilege for His humanity whom He placed at the head of His created order. What a responisbility for them.

May the author of life bless you with his peace as you seek to follow Him in His world that he treasures -- to die for.

If you love Him you will obey Him.

*** There will be no Shadows cast here for the next fortnight ***