Last week I was invited to an awards ceremony at my local library. I was a little bit surprised to receive the invitation, but I figured that my tireless work in support of… libraries was finally being recognised at an official level. They would probably unveil a plaque that said
“In grateful acknowledgement of occasional visits, this plaque was unveiled by his honour the Lord Mayor of Darwin, Graeme Sawyer on the 19th day of March 2010, and dedicated to the memory of Garry with 2 Rs, in whose name his beloved Andrea hath erected this monument.
“Sometimes he came here to borrow books.”
It seemed like a huge honour. I’ve always wanted my own plaque. Never mind the fact that I’m not dead yet. And who the hell is Andrea?
Okay, so the presentation was actually for a poetry competition. I was surprised to get invited because I didn’t really think my entry, which I only put in on a spur of the moment decision, would be in the running for anything. And with good reason.
It wasn’t.
I got invited because anyone who had bothered to enter got invited. It turns out Shakespearean sonnet writing contests don’t actually attract that many competitors, so they just invited the whole lot of us so that the winner would actually have someone there to cheer for him.
Actually, it was interesting to see the sort of crowd that would rock up for a sonnet competition presentation ceremony. Mostly older folk, but with a smattering of slightly younger English teachers and one extremely out-of-place twenty-something year old training officer/stunt linguist. In the end I was grateful not to have won. If I had walked out the front and read my entry aloud, I don’t think I could have absorbed the combined hatred of a dozen or so retirees all at once (I could totally have taken the English teachers though).
I’m pretty sure my poem came dead last. It was a Valentine’s Day competition, and my views on romance aren’t what you’d call universally well received. Nonetheless, I still got a free drink and meal out of it, which is more than can be said for most amateur poets.
Today’s episode was bought to you by the letter C and the number 17. Cum Tacent Clament is a production of the Children’s Television Network.*
Garry with 2 Rs
*Not really. They should probably keep children as far away from CTC as possible.
19 March 2010
08 March 2010
A Lenten study in nutritional micro-economics
I was chatting with some mates the other day about the concepts behind different kinds of doctrine that get around the church; liberation theology, feminist theology, prosperity doctrine, pro-acacia ecumenicalism, legalism, etc. We spent a good fifteen minutes trying to figure out what ‘evangelicalism’ actually means (we never did work it out). Then, once that got boring, we got to talking about how different ideas and perspectives come and go, but the basic gist is still the same 2000 odd years on. Eventually someone brought up the question of whether we as a church get the balance right when it comes to the impact new ideas have on established practices. Do we cling on too tightly to traditions which have become stagnant, or is it the other way around? Are we too quick to throw the baby with the bath water as soon as we’ve finished our latest bible study series and moved onto the next one?
I disagreed, perhaps not surprisingly, with just about everyone.
My friends were unanimously of the opinion that the church lives in the past too much and needs to quit being held back by ideas that had relevance only in the culture as it stood a hundred and fifty or more years ago. While I agree with this in principle, I felt compelled to argue the case for the opposition. Part of this, I confess, is due simply to my sociopathic compulsion to refuse to do anything that everyone else is doing. However, I do sincerely believe that, in a season where ‘independent’ churches are the new black and ‘old school’ denominations are struggling for membership, we stand at far greater risk of losing touch with the great wisdom and experience of the past than of being held back by it.
Now relax; I’m not about to start railing against the use of PowerPoint slides in worship or kick-off a campaign to bring back Hymns Ancient and Modern or anything like that. I’m all in favour of innovation, experimentation and adaptation to changes to technology and cultural expression. As far as I’m concerned, you can do what you like to the medium, as long as the message remains unchanged and in sharp focus. And speaking of staying on message, the more observant among you might have noticed that all this has absolutely nothing to do with economics or nutrition.
That is, until now.
To add weight to my rather impulsive declaration of allegiance to the religious wisdom of the past, I’ve decided to do something that, until quite recently, I’ve always thought was completely pointless; I’m playing the ‘giving stuff up for Lent’ game.
It’s traditional not to drink alcohol for the 40 days leading up to Easter. These days, since abstinence from alcohol isn’t as closely linked with religious piety as it once was (or possibly because Christians these days are much fonder of a drink), some people give up other stuff like chocolate, ice-cream or red meat. I suspect that a fair whack of the time, this has more to do with dietary discipline than with religious observance, hence my previous conviction that it was a stupid idea.
I’ve already cut down on my ice-cream intake, and I don’t really drink enough alcohol to make giving it up worthwhile, but ever since about 3rd year uni I’ve been doing a slow but certain dance of death with caffeine addiction. Considering that I can’t stand the taste of coffee and avoid it like the plague, this might come as a surprise, but my vice is much more insidious.
Yep, I’ve given up Coca Cola for Lent. Those of you who aren’t used to seeing me go anywhere without a six hundred millilitre red-labelled bottle in my hand might not believe it, but we’re three weeks into Lent now and I haven’t touched it since Ash Wednesday. And now my hands have finally stopped shaking enough to blog about it.
And yes, I am making a giant hypocrite out of myself, in as much as my motivation is more likely a nutritional one than a religious one. I still don’t see the point of going without stuff just for its own sake, but when we get to Easter, I’ll be giving the equivalent of what I would have spent on Coke for six weeks to a Uniting Church charity drive to buy … actually I don’t even know what. Probably food for poor people or something. So there is at least some semblance of reason behind it.
However, since I haven’t given up drinking fluids altogether, just a certain type of it, I’m not actually saving any money, since I just spend it on other less disastrously addictive beverages. So the resulting donation is just that; a donation. It’s a bit like sponsoring yourself for the 40 hour famine. I’d do just as much good in the world by just handing over the money and skipping the caffeine withdrawals, but hard line traditionalists insist that that would be missing the point of the Lenten experience. And what is that mystical point?
No, I haven’t figured that one out yet either.
You stay classy San Diego.
Garry with 2 Rs
I disagreed, perhaps not surprisingly, with just about everyone.
My friends were unanimously of the opinion that the church lives in the past too much and needs to quit being held back by ideas that had relevance only in the culture as it stood a hundred and fifty or more years ago. While I agree with this in principle, I felt compelled to argue the case for the opposition. Part of this, I confess, is due simply to my sociopathic compulsion to refuse to do anything that everyone else is doing. However, I do sincerely believe that, in a season where ‘independent’ churches are the new black and ‘old school’ denominations are struggling for membership, we stand at far greater risk of losing touch with the great wisdom and experience of the past than of being held back by it.
Now relax; I’m not about to start railing against the use of PowerPoint slides in worship or kick-off a campaign to bring back Hymns Ancient and Modern or anything like that. I’m all in favour of innovation, experimentation and adaptation to changes to technology and cultural expression. As far as I’m concerned, you can do what you like to the medium, as long as the message remains unchanged and in sharp focus. And speaking of staying on message, the more observant among you might have noticed that all this has absolutely nothing to do with economics or nutrition.
That is, until now.
To add weight to my rather impulsive declaration of allegiance to the religious wisdom of the past, I’ve decided to do something that, until quite recently, I’ve always thought was completely pointless; I’m playing the ‘giving stuff up for Lent’ game.
It’s traditional not to drink alcohol for the 40 days leading up to Easter. These days, since abstinence from alcohol isn’t as closely linked with religious piety as it once was (or possibly because Christians these days are much fonder of a drink), some people give up other stuff like chocolate, ice-cream or red meat. I suspect that a fair whack of the time, this has more to do with dietary discipline than with religious observance, hence my previous conviction that it was a stupid idea.
I’ve already cut down on my ice-cream intake, and I don’t really drink enough alcohol to make giving it up worthwhile, but ever since about 3rd year uni I’ve been doing a slow but certain dance of death with caffeine addiction. Considering that I can’t stand the taste of coffee and avoid it like the plague, this might come as a surprise, but my vice is much more insidious.
Yep, I’ve given up Coca Cola for Lent. Those of you who aren’t used to seeing me go anywhere without a six hundred millilitre red-labelled bottle in my hand might not believe it, but we’re three weeks into Lent now and I haven’t touched it since Ash Wednesday. And now my hands have finally stopped shaking enough to blog about it.
And yes, I am making a giant hypocrite out of myself, in as much as my motivation is more likely a nutritional one than a religious one. I still don’t see the point of going without stuff just for its own sake, but when we get to Easter, I’ll be giving the equivalent of what I would have spent on Coke for six weeks to a Uniting Church charity drive to buy … actually I don’t even know what. Probably food for poor people or something. So there is at least some semblance of reason behind it.
However, since I haven’t given up drinking fluids altogether, just a certain type of it, I’m not actually saving any money, since I just spend it on other less disastrously addictive beverages. So the resulting donation is just that; a donation. It’s a bit like sponsoring yourself for the 40 hour famine. I’d do just as much good in the world by just handing over the money and skipping the caffeine withdrawals, but hard line traditionalists insist that that would be missing the point of the Lenten experience. And what is that mystical point?
No, I haven’t figured that one out yet either.
You stay classy San Diego.
Garry with 2 Rs
01 March 2010
Not Remotely Interesting
Yeah, yeah, I know. I was hoping to slip an extra post in before the end of February to keep up the illusion that I’m not completely neglecting my blog, but … I didn’t. And you know what? I’m okay with that. After the disaster film that was the start to my year, I think I’ve had more than my fair share of events sufficiently noteworthy to warrant their own blog posts. It’s not that nothing at all has happened over the last few weeks, but more that I’ve been bustling about keeping up with a series of completely normal stuff.
Oh, I’ve also been travelling a bit again. It’s not quite been an intercontinental odyssey, but in many ways it has been just as eye opening and in some cases, better accommodated. Work has been sending me out to work with staff at remote branches all over the top end. I’ve just come back from a week in Gunbalanya (Oenpelli) and the week before that I was in Galiwin’ku (Elcho Island). In the past month or so I’ve also visited Numbulwar, Maningrida, Milingimbi and Ngukurr.
If you haven’t heard of any of these places, it’s because they don’t often make the news, and they certainly don’t feature in too many top ten tourist destination lists. They’re all Aboriginal communities located in Arnhem Land and Kakadu National Park, and are among some the most remote settlements on the planet. This time of year, the only way to get out to some of these places is by light aircraft, since the only roads in are all cut off by monsoonal flood waters. Go and Google map them if you don’t believe me.
It’s made for a nice change of pace. Okay, Palmerston might not be a thriving or bustling metropolis, but it’s hard to think of a more peaceful way to end a day of providing the only banking service for several hundred kilometres than by sitting on a rock watching the sunset over the ocean, eating a hamburger and listening to the sound of the local kids playing AFL on the sand behind you somewhere. It sure beats the hell out of sitting at a desk, pretending to type stuff.
I’m back in the office this week and everything’s back to its usual pace. Actually it’s faster than it has been since I’m now re-equipped with a new and improved Ford Focus. The new model’s a step up form the old, Voyager grey instead of TARDIS blue, a hatch instead of a sedan and has fancy wheels and cruise control. I haven’t decided whether or not GSS Tarrdis mk2 is really an appropriate name for a car that isn’t blue. I’m open to suggestions on that, but as usual I fully expect that there will be absolutely no comments on this post.
Shove it
Garry with 2 Rs
Oh, I’ve also been travelling a bit again. It’s not quite been an intercontinental odyssey, but in many ways it has been just as eye opening and in some cases, better accommodated. Work has been sending me out to work with staff at remote branches all over the top end. I’ve just come back from a week in Gunbalanya (Oenpelli) and the week before that I was in Galiwin’ku (Elcho Island). In the past month or so I’ve also visited Numbulwar, Maningrida, Milingimbi and Ngukurr.
If you haven’t heard of any of these places, it’s because they don’t often make the news, and they certainly don’t feature in too many top ten tourist destination lists. They’re all Aboriginal communities located in Arnhem Land and Kakadu National Park, and are among some the most remote settlements on the planet. This time of year, the only way to get out to some of these places is by light aircraft, since the only roads in are all cut off by monsoonal flood waters. Go and Google map them if you don’t believe me.
It’s made for a nice change of pace. Okay, Palmerston might not be a thriving or bustling metropolis, but it’s hard to think of a more peaceful way to end a day of providing the only banking service for several hundred kilometres than by sitting on a rock watching the sunset over the ocean, eating a hamburger and listening to the sound of the local kids playing AFL on the sand behind you somewhere. It sure beats the hell out of sitting at a desk, pretending to type stuff.
I’m back in the office this week and everything’s back to its usual pace. Actually it’s faster than it has been since I’m now re-equipped with a new and improved Ford Focus. The new model’s a step up form the old, Voyager grey instead of TARDIS blue, a hatch instead of a sedan and has fancy wheels and cruise control. I haven’t decided whether or not GSS Tarrdis mk2 is really an appropriate name for a car that isn’t blue. I’m open to suggestions on that, but as usual I fully expect that there will be absolutely no comments on this post.
Shove it
Garry with 2 Rs
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