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 ***

Spotted

2006-12-18T22:24:00.000+11:00

Don't be fooled: this post is not about dalmations, leopards or even polka-dotted leotards. Rather, it's about my chance encounters with people who are somewhat famous. Yep, those minor celebrities who happen to find themselves on the B list or C list, or perhaps somewhere in between like the B flat list.*

This sudden plunge into the murky world of hazy mobile phone-photographs and fruitlessly chased autographs was precipitated by an encounter on the weekend with Chas Licciardello of Chaser fame. I was sitting at a bus stop on Trafalgar St, Petersham, waiting for a bus when Chas went zipping along on his bicycle.

It's not as if seeing Chas is very special -- he doesn't really try to hide himelf -- and I didn't really get to see much of him due to his zippiness, but it was a brief moment moment of excitment as I waited for the bus. I felt like calling out to him, but all I could think to say was "Go Chas!" and this would have been quite unnecessary because he was already going, and going quite well. So I bit my tongue.

This last year I have almost bumped into two other almost-famous people -- in the supermarket. The first was Margaret Pomeranz. The first time I saw her (I've seen her twice) was just days before I had to give a presentation on Renoir's La Grande Illusion. I was thinking about asking her for some insight into the film, but then I thought that it might also be good to say "You're so much better than David" or "Hmmm I like low fat, soy, sweet chilli capsicum dip too."** I got so flummoxed trying to choose between the two that I just gaped awkardly and Margaret slipped away. She really is quite short, you know.

The second shopper of note was arguably the biggest bridesmaid of Australian cricket: the very angry Stuart MacGill. I looked at him once and turned back just to check that it really was him, and as soon as our eyes met he spun around and took off. A very angry character, indeed.

It's pretty pathetic, I know, but I want to see if anyone can beat it. Perhaps a C lister in a leopard-skin leotard. What is your worst 'celebrity' story?

* Go to the comments to see me being hauled over the coals for this awful gaffe.

** There is no guarantee that this was the actual flavour of dip that Margaret was considering. The Shadow takes no responsibility for accuracy when it comes to the eating habits of minor celebrities, although I have heard from a reliable source that Casey Donovan is a frequent visitor to KFC Pagewood, but that's a completely different . . .

Boules update: on the weekend the Reallys once again tasted victory, this time trouncing the Nearlys. Pierre was the standout. His wings were flapping so much that it was a great surprise to all that he didn't fly away (I'm sure that were he in a South American novel, he would have). The best that the Nearlys could do, however, was flap their gums (even a South American novelist would have struggled with them). Bring on the Christmas Eve Special complete with Mexican hats!

Confusing conundrum

2006-12-10T21:53:00.000+11:00

The other day I was thinking out loud about a tough decision I had to make and I said, "I wish I could just solve this dilemma".

But then I stopped and thought a little and realised what a silly thing that was to say. The problem with a true dilemma is that there is no 'solution' to it; you can't solve it like a riddle or a puzzle.

I'm not talking about your average, run-of-the-mill, Kevin Rudd-fork in the road, but a really difficult decision that demands a definitive response and promises to niggle away at the back of your mind long after you've made the agonising decision; a splade in the road if you like.

So, the burning question on my mind is this: What does one do when one comes to a splade in the road? What verb do you use to describe the task of tackling such a dilemma?

The best answer I've found so far is "To work through". Is there a better one?

P.S. To all those who care (and that should be all of you), here is an update on the McNeilly Park Boules Club. Today, at home, the Reallys (Pierre, Samuel and Tintin) beat the Nearlys (Benoir, Nateau and Robespierre) 11-10.

Dig deep for water

2006-12-07T22:33:00.000+11:00

An unhealthy statistic has thrown Sydney's water shortage back into the spotlight -- today our total supply reached an all-time low of just 37.5 per cent of capacity.

Feeling the heat, the state government spat out another possible alternative source -- abandoned and operating mines. There's a possible 50 gig hidden away down there and all that's standing between that and our taps is. . .a government investigation into the cost of removing and treating it.

First it was desal, then the wonderful aquifers at Leonay and Kangaloon, and now it's this. The water policy tap seems to be turning very slowly.

In south-east Queensland where supply is below 25 per cent, there will be a referendum about using recycled water next March, but nothing on that scale is being talked about here. Maybe we'll start doing that when our dams reach a quarter of their capacity.

Or maybe we should all just look on Mars. Don't laugh -- it could be possible.

Some of that possible Martian water. Marvin says it's top drop. Source: Associated Press

Here I go a-musing

2006-12-03T21:57:00.000+11:00

Colour spectrum: Aren't those blue-green colours annoying? If you're anything like me you've experienced the teal/turquoise conundrum before: is it blue or green, or neither? Why is it such a tough one? Well . . . I think it's because there's a bit of a grey zone between blue and green.

Eastern Europe: I have it on good authority that the Czechs and the Poles are poles apart. I don't know where the Slovaks come into it but I assume they're somewhere in between the Czechs and the balances.

Full bore: The relationship between my mother and me is reciprocal; twenty-one years ago she bore me and now I bore her. The relationship between you and me, dear reader, is much more lopsided; you never bore me but I'm boring you right now.

Cocky caper

2006-11-27T15:01:00.000+11:00

Stop Press! Here is the first picture of the McNeilly Park Boules Club members in their fetching uniforms to be posted online.

Pictured (L-R) are: Tintin, Pierre, Benoir and Robespierre. Sadly absent are Andre, Samuel and Nateau.

What started off as an idle spot of recreation on a quiet Sunday afternoon a little over a month ago has spread and blossomed into an integral part of the social calendar of South Marrickville. Competition within the club is taken quite seriously, although strict adherence to the rules of petanque or boule lyonnaise is not as important.

All activities are accompanied by much mirth and oh-so-chic 'French' carry-on. Our emblem is the Gallic rooster - or le coq sportif, le cochonnet (piglet) - or the jack - is referred to as le petit jacque, and all victories must be celebrated by a rather cocky dance - complete with flapping wings - around said cochonnet.

The club's most exciting adventure occurred just over a week ago. It was the team's first outing in the brilliant blue strip on home turf at McNeilly Park, and all the circumstances seemed auspicious. But lurking above the field of play was a sinister old crow and when le petit jacque was leisurely lobbed to begin the third round, the ravenous raven swooped down and took off with the defenceless piglet.

Pierre boldly gave pursuit but the crow, which unlike us chooks did not have its wings clipped, took refuge in a nearby gum tree where it was clearly seen swallowing the jack - much to the amazement of all three of the intrigued onlookers! From that day forward our motto has been: Stone the crows.

This minor setback though was easily overcome. A replacement cochonnet has been found and the game goes on. Our sights are now set on bigger and better challenges, such as finding another social Boules club to compete against and appearing on Tim Bailey's weather report. There's even talk of McNeilly Park Boules Club: The Movie.

But for now, we're just taking it one lazy Sunday afternoon at a time. Vive le MPBC!

Ashes to Aussies, Dust to Poms

2006-11-22T11:40:00.000+11:00

The sound of leather on willow, the smell of freshly cut grass, the sight of crisp, white uniforms, the harsh, midday sun beating down on you, the taste of a nice, cold beer . . .

As someone much wiser than me once said, "Cricket's better." And cricket truly is better when the boys in the baggy green are trouncing the Englishmen. When it comes to sport, the Ashes is the apogee. And now it's oh-so-close.

At a press conference on Monday, Shane Warne said:

" . . . at the end of the day everyone's done enough talking and answering the same questions. We're just looking forward to getting out there and playing, and playing well."

It sent a mammoth shiver down my spine, and Sydney's soaring temperatures have done nothing to stop the reverberating vertibrae.

There ain't much that beats the excitement of a well-urned victory.

C'mon Aussie

Come clean!

2006-11-16T23:57:00.000+11:00

At last the Australian mainstream media has called into question one of the standard excuses of the Prime Minister and the Minister for the Environment (Ian Campbell) for rejecting the Kyoto Protocol - by referring to the Clean Development Mechanism (CDM).

An article in the Herald on 15 November attributed to James Button in Nairobi , where the world summit on global warming is being held, said:

"Mr Campbell has said the protocol is flawed because it does not force fast-growing developing nations such as China and India to reduce their emissions.

Yet China, unlike Australia, has joined the global carbon market and is taking part in projects to reduce its emissions through the UN Clean Development Mechanism."

CDM is set out under article 12 of the Protocol which allows Annex I Parties (developed nations) to implement emissions reductions projects in non-Annex I Parties (developing nations), in return for emissions credits in their own countries. The whole point of the mechanism is to allow countries such as Australia (if it were a signatory) to help countries such as China and India reduce their emissions.

As the UNFCCC (United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change) web page says:

"Article 12 also stresses that such project activities are to assist the developing country host Parties in achieving sustainable development and in contributing to the ultimate objective of the Convention."

As a bonus, when Annex 1 countries contribute to emissions reductions in developing nations, they offset some of their own emissions, putting themselves in a position where they can exceed their own targets without breaching the protocol.

I think, in light of this, Howard and Campbelll's reasoning is flawed. But the thing that got me was that no-one was mentioning this. Even Radio National's PM (quite a reputable program) let Campbell slip that defense through in an interview without a single CDM rebuttal.

My London source says that the UK press has been talking about CDM a fair bit, but that's not at all surprising. The UK is an Annex I Party and has contributed to a number of CDM projects in China.

I may be mistaken. There could have been some earlier CDM references in the Australian media that passed my radar. If you're aware of any, please correct me.

The other concern with Kyoto that the PM has raised on a number of occasions is that it threatens Australia's competitive advantage. We are a coal rich nation that burns and experts a lof of the stuff. It really is a tough one.

Smarter than the average autonomous community?

2006-11-14T16:05:00.000+11:00

Glancing through the online version of Spanish national newspaper El Pais (The Country) as I often do, I came across this gem that I felt had to be shared with the rest of the world - or at least the loyal readers of The Shadow.

Asturias, one of the country's 17 autonomous communities, has launched an advertising campaign to encourage other Spaniards to holiday in the 'Green Region' featuring Yogi Bear (El Oso Yogui) and his trusty sidekick Boo-Boo (Bubú). The campaign cost almost 6 million Euros.

Yogui sure knows how to go about selling. His catchphrase, when translated, goes something like this: "There are rustic mountains, but marvellous beaches as well and beautiful buildings, the people are friendly . . . and the food's much better than in Yellow Stone National Park!"

It's not quite the same as "So where the bloody hell are you?" but I can't figure out if it's better or worse. Whaddya reckon?

What's really needed

2006-11-07T15:37:00.000+11:00

This is a hymn that I love to sing but too often shirk from doing, praying, saying or even wanting.

I need Thee Lord for I have seen
All Life may mean if led by Thee;
O master me, and make me clean
From all my sin's impurity.

Show me Thyself through life's dark maze,
When doubts assail, and fears are strong,
O strengthen me, that all my days
May know the triumph over wrong.

Help me to see Thee where Thou art,
Among the weary, sad and lost;
O give me warm, responsive heart,
To love them, too, at any cost.

Thus serving Thee where Thou dost lead,
I'll share Thy cross, Thy slave I'll be;
Until I find that all my need
Is met when I Thy face shall see.

C. G. Taylor

It's coming - keep your hair on!

2006-11-07T14:52:00.000+11:00

You'll probably have noticed that the Christmas juggernaut is swinging into gear once again. It was brought to my attention most clearly, and humourously, the other day when I went past All Souls Leichhardt. The church's notice board read:

"Come to church now - avoid the Christmas rush."

Another sign of the times (or the season at any rate) arrived in the post yesterday. It was [Arguably] The World's Most Useful Gift Catalogue. And seeing The Shadow has entered the world of plugging, it's a good thing to plug.

For thirteen years now TEAR has produced the catalogue which enables you to purchase gifts that will benefit those who are in need, while showing love and goodwill to friends or family.

The logic behind it is that we are quite comfortable and have more than we need yet at Christmas time we so often find ourselves tearing out prescious hair in pursuit of that perfect gift. To avoid the frustration, and the unsightly bald patches, the catalogue allows you to put money towards Eye Care ($5), a toilet ($70), a school building ($2000) and a whole heap of other useful things for people in developing countries. In return you receive a gift card that you can give to a loved one that tells them what you have purchased, "thinking of them."

As we prepare to celebrate the birth of God's son let's stand up for justice and hope and look forward to His return when justice, beyond our normal use of the term, will be complete and hope will no longer be needed.

And as the TEAR magazine says - a useful gift sure is better than a singing salmon!

No points - but plenty of kudos - to whoever identifies the pun in this post and/or the type of fish that is pictured above (it's not a salmon).

More aesthetic than ascetic

2006-11-01T15:52:00.000+11:00

Arguably the most anticipated event of November, the unveiling of Peter McGuiness's latest exhibition, is only days away. Peter is Tdix's favourite artist and The Shadow's biggest fan, and so this obscure journal finds itself lurching headlong into the world of plugging.

The wonderfully titled Songs from Illawarra Road, 'The Movie' will kick off on Saturday night at the Gladstone in Dulwich Hill. Peter has a way with names. Other exhibitions of his include Fictitious album covers for a non-existent Chinese, jazz-rock ensemble and The Floating World.

Pictured is a segment from 'Never Mind' which I like because of the jacaranda-like purple colour. I also like the yellow ones. For a better look at Peter's work you can go here.

It promises to be a great evening. The barbecues will be firing up from about 6pm in the beer garden out back, hopefully under the sinking sun of a balmy Daylight Saving evening, and then at eight will come the debut of the ever-enigmatic Slideshow Man.

Cheers to the beauty of creation and creativity!

Seeing I named both the artist and the artwork, I'm going to give myself 10 points.

History wars

2006-10-26T22:04:00.000+10:00

"The discipline of history has been colonised by post-structuralists who are fundamentally opposed to grand narratives, and are in this way, undermining it. It is time to reclaim history for itself and resist the hegemony of the culturalists." Product of conversation between tdix and Michael Allen

Discuss.

Signs and wonders

2006-10-24T15:23:00.002+10:00

I have a bit of an attachment to Marrickville. For the last 16 years it's been my home and so whenever it rates a mention I tend to pay attention. And the latest signs shenanigan was no exception.

In yesterday's (pink) Herald there was an article about a proposal at a council meeting to make local businesses translate all foreign-language signs into English. I've also heard that a Today Tonight crew was on the prowl in the area.

The Herald article made a particular reference to a Chinese video shop on Illawarra Rd that only has Chinese characters on its signs. I often walk past this shop and seeing it there really got me thinking.

From the start, the plan seemed like a bit of a beat up because there isn't really any problem that it's addressing. In my experience there are hardly any signs with no English and it's quite easy to figure out what local businesses are all about. It smacked to me of overregulation.

But I wasn't going to leave it there. So today being my day off, I went out for a walk along a busy section of Illawarra Road (between Warren and Marrickville Rds) with a pen and a notepad jotting down the languages on the signs of the local businesses I encountered. In all I passed 107, inluding the one that featured in the Herald. It's main sign has now been covered by sheets of A3 paper with the English words "Chinese Video Rental" written in black felt-tip pen.

Out of the 107 businesses not one had no English on its signage. I've summarised the language mix below:

English only: 50 (46.73%)
Chinese and English: 12 (11.21%)
Vietnamese and English: 31 (28.97%)
Chinese, Vietnamese and English: 4 (3.74%)
Arabic and English: 5 (4.67%)
Greek and English: 3 (2.80%)
Tibetan and English: 1 (0.93%)
Indonesian and English: 1 (0.93%)

Total: 107

To be fair some of the Vietnamese shops and restaurants had very little English - there was one bakery type place that only said "Fresh Pork Rolls" in English - but there is no need to change anything about the signs. They're perfectly adequate in my patch.

Now if only the council would do something about all those uneven footpaths . . .

Pink suits you

2006-10-22T23:52:00.000+10:00

No - really it does. Monday 23 October is the National Breast Cancer Foundation's Pink Ribbon Day and that means that there should be people everywhere wearing pink ribbons. The foundation has the lofty aim of funding a cure for breast cancer and this day is a key component of their program. It's also why all those Mt Franklin water bottles have been sporting those trendy pink lids for some time now.

I've never really paid much attention to Pink Ribbon Day before. It's always been just another one of those charity days that seem to pass by with a fading flourish of PR hype. But this year it's different. It's personal. Three people I'm connected to in various ways have contracted breast cancer and had to go through the horrors of chemo. I've hoped and prayed for my aunty, a woman at church and the sister of a guy at church as they battled the illness.

It's amazing how powerful the experiences of loved ones are. Issues that once lingered in the shadows are suddenly thrown out in the open. Earlier in the year my cousins home was threatened by bushfires. The fire passed close by but they were spared but in the days before the reassurance came through I was gripped like never before. Those people on the news were in the same situation as my family. It really brought home how narrow my outlook can be. In a needy, groaning world it can be easy to close my eyes and claim compassion fatigue - until something happens.

My awakening to breast cancer has had a much more encouraging impact as well though as I have been blessed to witness the great testimony of the woman at church undergoing treatment. Every time she makes it along she's full of praise and is just so thankful for the opportunity to meet with her brothers and sisters. We always thank God for the privilege but she's helped us see how true that is. In a recent conversation she told me her faith's been tested but as it has been refined we have all been challenged. Even in the shadows the light penetrates.

And in the dimness don't forget to show some pink.

To begin at the ending

2006-10-19T23:17:00.001+10:00

My time has well and truly come, the writing's on the wall, and soon tdix at USYD will be a thing of the past.

Today I succumbed to sentiment and opened the floodgates of my nostalgia as I passed a uni day in the best possible way: without a single class. There was coffee, a plenitude of puns, small group, a PM, sunshine (and burnt skin), ISM, prayer and a challenging conversation. Farewell to the sandstone stomping ground.

But enough of that. Today also marks the start of The Shadow. My aim here is to take some of the anecdotes and niggling thoughts I encounter and fashion something that provokes thought and entertains. If my previous blog is any sort of yardstick there will be a fair bit of navel gazing and heart bleeding. There will certainly be times when it falls short of what I want it to be, but that is to be expected. This life under the sun is filled with shadows.

Hopefully this one will point to the Light.