Cricket season is upon us again. As usual we’ve started training before the weather has really cleared which means we get rained out more often than not. But I got a good nets session in last night, and all this week I will be wearing a specially produced indigo coloured bruise on my left rib cage in support of meme resistance awareness week and as a reminder that I need to work on playing the short ball better.
The post wet season level of operational insanity is also building back towards its normal level, with a full time job, three sports, various theatrical endeavours and church to keep me up to my ears in mischief. At some point I’m sure I’ll post something about how my new job is going, but in the meantime, there’s an improvisation night at Happy Yess and the next One Body service to get through.
How do you make lasagne?
Garry with 2 Rs
28 March 2012
20 March 2012
The Voice of the People
Last night I received some information that will change the way I shop forever.
It’s a well known fact that I hate the automated self servicecheckouts at the supermarkets. I realise it’s old fashioned of me, but I’m okay with that. I prefer to have my essential services performed by humans; it adds a social dimension to the otherwise completely menial task of buying food. It’s a chance to make small talk and potentially brighten someone’s day before you take your groceries home.
You just don’t get that anymore with the new machines. You can try as hard as you like, but engaging in mildly flirtatious small talk with a touch screen just comes off looking weird and awkward. Just ask Samantha and she’ll tell you (sort of). And all they ever say is “please take your change” "Please take your items” “Please take your receipt” “No, you can’t buy me a drink later” and “Thank you for shopping with the Fresh Food People”. And it’s always in that voice that’s been synthesized to sound like a human but hasn’t quite got there. It’s like they took the top fifteen most irritating voices of not-quite-humans and blended them into one patronising computer to rule them all.
But all that changed last night. Last night, in one glorious moment of profound revelation, I discovered a forbidden secret.
Did you know you can turn the voice off before you start?
Just like muting the ads during a Friday night movie, or watching Millionaire Hot Seat with the sound off while you boil your dinner (Fish fingers again tonight. Yum) because all you’re really interested in is the trivia answers, or hurling a pewter carving of a Turkish carpet salesman through your television screen every time Michael Slater comes on the cricket (or, for reasons I haven’t quite figured out yet, the Footy Show), now I have the power to banish that god-awful voice from my universe forever! Liberation! Power to the real people! Death to simulated people everywhere! Except you Siri, if you’re reading; please don’t hurt me.
Make of that what you will.
Garry with 2 Rs
14 March 2012
Two Weeks Notice
It’s only taken me eighteen months, half a dozen or so whingey blog posts, at least ten rejected applications, six months of near-inhuman despair and the combined efforts of prayer chains across three states, but last Friday I finally walked out of the credit union for ever.
The period of limbo between when you give your two weeks’ notice and when you actually walk out the door is always a strange one. People ask all sorts of inane questions like “Are you going to miss us?” or “Are you looking forward to starting your new job?” or (possibly the dumbest) “You know you’ve only got three days left here?”
The last day in particular was particularly bizarre. Obviously I spent most of it packing things away and getting ready to vacate my office. Of course, having maintained a clean sheet on discrepancies for a year since taking up the ops job, it would be that on my last day the safe count was $2000 short. Fortunately the money showed up about three hundred kilometres away in a community outside Katherine, so it was fine, but that was a pretty crazy way to spend my last afternoon at the company.
This week I’m settling into my new job with the NT Government. It’s already about six times less stressful than my old job, and that’s with the foot and a half deep pile of resources I need to read just to get my head around everything. But there again it’s nice to finally be in a job where knowing lots of stuff is actually valued. But that’s another post for another time.
Make of that what you will.
Garry with 2 Rs
06 March 2012
Unlicensed
What the hell has happened to my blog?
I remember back in the day I used to write about important political issues, significant events of the day and cutting edge social commentary. At the very least, they were tales with a strong moral message for the family. These days it seems my blog is more self-obsessed than ever, which probably goes a fair way to explaining why I find myself with nothing to write about so often.
Well forgive my sudden change of tack, but I feel compelled this week to jump back on the “look how important I am” bandwagon for just a moment, because while the degree to which I take anything seriously is debatable, this stuff matters.
Last week a government report named the Finkelstein Review was released, providing recommendations for reforms to the Australian media system. In broad terms, it didn’t really say anything revolutionary: media standards are something we should be concerned about, but really it's not that bad. It turns out the idiocy at News of the World was specifically an English problem. Better luck next witch hunt.
But one sneaky recommendation the review makes is the overhauling of the decentralised self-regulatory bodies used by existing media companies, and the establishment of a government controlled licensing and regulatory board.
No two ways about it; this is flat out wrong.
The idea behind the proposal is that in the digital age it is far too easy for any hack with a smart phone to call himself a journalist and upload whatever content he likes to the internet, regardless of accuracy, propriety or ethics. The council would require all reporters with the Australian media industry and, interestingly, all producers of blogs with more than 41 hits per average day, to be registered as licensed journalists.
This isn’t a new idea; the idea of a journalism license to prove intellectual capacity and responsibility in the press has been around for decades. And as attractive as it sounds (I'll be the first to publicly lambaste the Australian media for shoddy quality. I'm also fairly quick to use the word 'lambaste' in general. I really like it), the reason we don’t do it has been around for just as long: You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t write in a liberal democracy.
Yes, we need standards and ethics in the media, that’s why the Australian Press Council and The Australian Communications and Media Authority already exist. The problem with these organisations is that they are part of the media system itself, a fact which always lends itself to criticism about accountability. But that’s the whole point of a free press. No-one gets to tell the press what it can and can’t write, least of all the government. And you can't silence someone because she doesn't meet your criteria for qualification. Ever. You can criticise her, ignore her, counter her or lambaste her. But you can't silence her.
Sure, we want media content to be appropriate. But do we want the government telling us what that means? Sure, we demand that the news always be true. But do we want the government telling us what is and isn’t true? Now imagine that the party you don’t support is in power and ask yourself the same questions. This stuff really does matter.
Fortunately (well…) for the free world, Cum Tacent Clament doesn’t rate anything near 41 hits a day, so you can rest assured that the steady flow of biased, inappropriate nonsense will continue long after the dark shroud of government censorship has descended on the cyberverse. When that day comes, I and my eight followers shall lead the glorious revolution, overthrow the establishment and usher in a new era of freedom, irresponsibility and ice cream for all.
Make of that what you will.
Garry with 2 Rs
I remember back in the day I used to write about important political issues, significant events of the day and cutting edge social commentary. At the very least, they were tales with a strong moral message for the family. These days it seems my blog is more self-obsessed than ever, which probably goes a fair way to explaining why I find myself with nothing to write about so often.
Well forgive my sudden change of tack, but I feel compelled this week to jump back on the “look how important I am” bandwagon for just a moment, because while the degree to which I take anything seriously is debatable, this stuff matters.
Last week a government report named the Finkelstein Review was released, providing recommendations for reforms to the Australian media system. In broad terms, it didn’t really say anything revolutionary: media standards are something we should be concerned about, but really it's not that bad. It turns out the idiocy at News of the World was specifically an English problem. Better luck next witch hunt.
But one sneaky recommendation the review makes is the overhauling of the decentralised self-regulatory bodies used by existing media companies, and the establishment of a government controlled licensing and regulatory board.
No two ways about it; this is flat out wrong.
The idea behind the proposal is that in the digital age it is far too easy for any hack with a smart phone to call himself a journalist and upload whatever content he likes to the internet, regardless of accuracy, propriety or ethics. The council would require all reporters with the Australian media industry and, interestingly, all producers of blogs with more than 41 hits per average day, to be registered as licensed journalists.
This isn’t a new idea; the idea of a journalism license to prove intellectual capacity and responsibility in the press has been around for decades. And as attractive as it sounds (I'll be the first to publicly lambaste the Australian media for shoddy quality. I'm also fairly quick to use the word 'lambaste' in general. I really like it), the reason we don’t do it has been around for just as long: You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t write in a liberal democracy.
Yes, we need standards and ethics in the media, that’s why the Australian Press Council and The Australian Communications and Media Authority already exist. The problem with these organisations is that they are part of the media system itself, a fact which always lends itself to criticism about accountability. But that’s the whole point of a free press. No-one gets to tell the press what it can and can’t write, least of all the government. And you can't silence someone because she doesn't meet your criteria for qualification. Ever. You can criticise her, ignore her, counter her or lambaste her. But you can't silence her.
Sure, we want media content to be appropriate. But do we want the government telling us what that means? Sure, we demand that the news always be true. But do we want the government telling us what is and isn’t true? Now imagine that the party you don’t support is in power and ask yourself the same questions. This stuff really does matter.
Fortunately (well…) for the free world, Cum Tacent Clament doesn’t rate anything near 41 hits a day, so you can rest assured that the steady flow of biased, inappropriate nonsense will continue long after the dark shroud of government censorship has descended on the cyberverse. When that day comes, I and my eight followers shall lead the glorious revolution, overthrow the establishment and usher in a new era of freedom, irresponsibility and ice cream for all.
Make of that what you will.
Garry with 2 Rs
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