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|Serving Arizona State University Online Since 1995
Mayor Giuliano's book just a guise for self-praise
Our very own Tempe Mayor Neil Giuliano has decided to write a book about his "political career." What political career!? Honestly, how many councilmen-to-mayor autobiographies are topping the best-seller lists?
Take your dollar back from defunct ASA highway robbers
What if a person took a dollar from your pocket? Would you call that person a thief? The Arizona Students' Association collects $1 from each student every semester, receiving a huge budget without lifting a finger.
Journalists pull out color swatches, skip over real news
There are things happening in this country and around the world, and there is plenty of news to analyze. But coverage of what color the current "terrorist thermometer" reads has replaced the real news.
Letters to the Editor: Police have concerns besides bandit
The letters in response to recent columns, including a letter from a reader who wrote that an editorial criticizing the Tempe police's inability to catch a "small-time" robber was too harsh on the "boys in blue."
Editorial: Housing plan a bad omen for fraternities' future
Fraternities were supposed to have on-campus houses to help foster male bonding. But after years of run-down houses, porn scandals and other behavioral problems, ASU President Michael Crow is taking action.
Mall Rants: Same-sex marriages
ASU students rant about their feelings about same-sex marriages.
ASU professor applies theories to life, entertains students
Stephen Happel would never waste his time standing in a long line to buy tickets to a baseball game. That, he would insist, is a waste of opportunity costs, especially when there are scalpers just waiting to sell their extra tickets.
Postcards from Spain: Life shockingly different abroad
So far this semester, I have been in Spanish classes with students from countries including Germany, Iceland, Norway, Scotland and Sweden. The people I was used to seeing on a daily basis were suddenly e-mail addresses in my inbox.
Controversial professor believes he is being forced out
A popular ASU sociology professor, asked by his department to publish six scholarly papers within the next year-and-a-half, believes unreal expectations have been set for him in an effort to force him out.
Regatta attracts more than 400 rowers to Tempe Town Lake
That sound of rowing was rampant this weekend at Tempe Town Lake, where more than 400 rowers from Arizona, San Diego, Dallas and other areas competed in Desert Springs - a rowing regatta hosted by the Rio Salado Rowing Club and the City of Tempe.
Softball: ASU freshman pitcher Serrano earns Pac-10 award
Four wins, a 0.31 ERA, 26 strikeouts and a no-hitter. An impressive weekend of work for any pitcher, and a performance that earned ASU freshman Desiree Serrano the Pac-10 Pitcher of the Week award.
Record-setting Germaine named Gymnast of the Week
For all of her hard work in Sunday's meet against UCLA, and the setting of new personal and team records, ASU junior gymnast Maggie Germaine was awarded Pac-10 Gymnast of the Week for February 9-15.
Hoops: Devils look to veer from same path of 1999-00 squad
If some of the seniors on the ASU men's basketball team think hard enough, this season might remind them of their first year as Sun Devils. Fast forward to this season, with ASU heading into a key game vs. UA.
Devil Dish: ASU gymnastics poised to go all the way
ASU gymnastics deserves some recognition. The Sun Devils have been phenomenal, kicking off their season by reaching the third highest team score of all time in their second meet in their 2003 campaign.
Hump Day Hoopla: Moral victories gone at college level
How you play the game translates into sportsmanship and effort, but sooner or later winning does become more important. Someone needs to tell this to ASU gymnastics coach John Spini after his team fell to UCLA.
UA Ticket Contest
Enter to win tickets to the sold out ASU/UA basketball game.
Police Beat: Man arrested for breaking plastic lawn chairs
The incidents reported by ASU and Tempe police, including a 27-year-old Tempe man arrested Monday on the charge of criminal damage. The man allegedly broke two plastic lawn chairs.
Reseacher's test links stress with heart disease, diabetes
ASU researcher Kathleen Matt has found that stress often contributes to life-threatening illness, but worrying about it won't do any good. She designed a scientific method for studying stress' effect on the body.
State Legislature proposes bills that impact ASU
A summary of bills and legislators' contact information. With a large class of freshman legislators in the House and Senate, a flurry of bills have already been proposed, many of which could affect ASU if passed.
ASU student strangled abroad
British authorities are currently investigating the strangling death of Alyson Ilene Kaplan, a former ASU student vacationing in England.
Police believe a man took Kaplan to a hotel in London and ultimately robbed and strangled her to death.
Tempe shooting suspect shot himself before crashing car
Authorities reportedly discovered self-inflicted gunshot wounds on the body of a Phoenix man who purportedly fled from police Sunday evening. He was suspected of shooting his estranged wife's boyfriend.
ASASU rejects code of conduct
ASASU's University Affairs Committee rejected a resolution that would support a new stipulation to the Student Code of Conduct on Tuesday because it had "qualms with the bill."
An incident with former ASASU Executive Vice President Brian Buck last year prompted the code to be revised in the first place.
Changing Directions: Tuition increase won't reach ASU
ASU will not profit from the proposed $1,000 tuition increase being considered by the Arizona Board of Regents. Promises of increased financial aid and budget cuts mean little of the $35.6 million will be left.
Reslife disowns frat housing
An experimental new housing project has caused confusion among the students it will affect.
The University's Greek system will be partially transformed when the "old row" fraternities will be moved from their private houses to a new communal housing project.
300th and 301st episodes of 'Simpsons' don't disappoint
"The Simpsons" aired its 300th and 301st episodes Sunday night. "Barting Over" and "I'm Spelling As Fast As I Can" lived up to "Simpsons" reputation with priceless humor.
Laughable lovers
Calling all rejects! In case you haven't noticed, Valentine's Day is Friday. But do not fret, this may be the year when you break the cycle of lonely Valentine's Days past, spent home alone crying aloud to the Lifetime Channel.
Innocence lost, honesty found
It was just a little more than 365 days ago. This month, last year. The air was brisk, as it is now once the sun fades from our sight. I was nervous and vulnerable. I had no idea what to expect as I approached the steps of the unassuming house in central Phoenix.
Playing God
We live each day with the presumption that nothing can hurt us because we are inherently good. But according to "J.B.," a 1959 Pulitzer Prize-winning play that will be coming to ASU next week, we are all fools.
In the name of 'Love'
The mile-high town of 50 views and 450 people is used to travelers passing through. After living through four fires and a depression, the people of Jerome, Ariz. don't expect many visitors, or much from them when they do come.
Texans tell all
Despite their precarious reputations, Texans can sure tell good stories. Kevin Russell, the guitarist/ mandolin player/singer for the Austin-based rock group, The Gourds, is no exception.
Big steps on the big screen
Amy Ettinger, the director and founder of the Outfar! Phoenix International Lesbian and Gay Festival, has been offering an alternative to the Valentine's Day movie doldrums for the past seven years. Each year, the festival showcases several movies from around the world that feature characters, themes and issues from the gay and lesbian community.
Not so Daring
Daredevil, the new movie based on the Marvel Comics superhero, is just about as good as most of the other recent movies based on comic-book heroes. Which is to say that it is derivative, unoriginal, and mostly unengaging on the human-interest level.
Bound and Determined
As Kim Moody begins to explain the House's 20-year history of the "Exotic Art Show," he starts to laugh and gestures to the object of his amusement. "Um, the dildo in the window," he says, referring to a piece displayed nearby. It is a metal-constructed banana covering a vibrator, placed high on a pillow so that it stands erect and is noticeable from the outside. "I haven't seen the show up yet," he says chuckling.
On the road to independence
If you want something done right, do it yourself. If you want to make an album the way you want, start your own record label. Which is exactly what Big Head Todd and the Monsters did when they were all at the ripe young age of 25. Fourteen years later, three Colorado natives - Todd Park Mohr [guitar], Brian Nevin [drums and vocals] and Rob Squires [bass and vocals] - who make up the rock band BHTM, have got the record business down pat, but it wasn't always the case.
T 'n 'Anus'
Lloyd Garner is a realist and somewhat of a masochist. The ASU broadcast senior, and graduate of Scottsdale Community College's two-year film program, didn't set out to make Anus Magillicutty - an $800 "skin-flick, action-comedy" - a cinematic masterpiece.
Links to Search Archives
Links to archives
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Whereas exercising won't provide you with a height increase after puberty, exercising to increase muscle mass can also help with the phantasm that you just're taller. It should additionally help in … Read More

subset: commoncrawl


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The One with the Birthday Party
Sean and his wife made the trip out to Ottawa this past weekend so we had the rare opportunity to actually record the show in the same room. We had more great discussions surrounding the games we played this past week including the new MMO Archeage, the Rainbow Six Siege MP Alpha, more Far Cry 4 multiplayer, Neverwinter, and finally Sean compares Pool Nation FX, the new Game with Gold title, to Pure Pool. In the news this week we talk about Witcher 3 and why we're not overly excited for this title, the Deus Ex: Mankind Divided announcement, Lego Dimensions, and the lack of voice chat in an online multiplayer game, Nintendo's Splatoon.
Lost Treasures
- Omega Race [1981, C64, Arcade, Atari 2600]
The Stuff We Like to Talk About
- Witcher 3 to be 200 hours of gameplay
- Turn your car into a driving simulator
- Pagan Min mod for Civ V – Kyrat comes to Civ V
- Deus Ex: Mankind Divided Announced
- Lego Dimensions Announced – Lego goes Skylanders
- Nintendo's Splatoon won't have voice chat
The Usual
- Twitter: @TheOMGHour | @OMGNexus | @Xiantayne | @Sinnix | @DianaBirsan
- Our Gaming Archaeologist: @SydBolton
- Feedback/questions: firstname.lastname@example.com
- Website: www.omgnexus.com
- Rate us on iTunes
- OMG! Quanta
- Gamers Unscripted: @GamersUnscriptd
- Open Forum Radio


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Dead Reckoning by William Dresden
Jesse is a dangerous man. Armed with the Reckoning he can hunt down almost any supernatural creature
But even he was surprised by what he uncovered when he ran across a Limikkin when hunting a cannibal.
This book is a novella. It's a very short novella as well – and I'm just confused by the whole thing
It doesn't read like a novella. It reads like some pulled a few chapters out of a much much longer book, which itself was part of a much much longer series (and this was book 5 in that series). And I'm confused why only this part has been sent to me
We have a western setting and our main character is Jesse. He's a… gunslinger, vigilante, mercenary? I dunno, guy in western who hunts things down for money. Or possibly for some ulterior motive. Either way the stuff he's hunting seems to be supernatural. Whether that's a habit or one off… I'm not sure
And his family has been killed by some big bad at some point? And he wants to hunt that down but it's kind of referenced in passing and… I don't know because it's not developed?
And then we have a really long card game where he decides to shoot someone and I'm not only bemused as to why any book feels the need to go into this much detail about a card game, I'm further bemused as to why any book this short would feel the need to dedicate this much time to a card game and bemused yet further still that it's so out of place and ends with a killing which probably is relevant to something huge in the author's mind but I have no clue why it is here. He just killed another gambler and I have a vague idea that the guy is not a nice person but… why? Why is this here?
He has this power called "the Reckoning" which is like burning things with magical wrath. I don't know why he has it how he has it what it means or… well… anything. He's also really old and really dangerous which may be woo-woo or may be because of the family-killing-tragic-past-moment,
Aaargh, this is this entire book. There's lots touched on but nothing is explained or developed. Is this not the book? Is this actually like an excerpt of a book, like the sample you can get off Amazon sent to me by mistake?
We do have a plot that isn't bad and is relatively closed. We have a fight an enemy, a rescue and then a twist at the end. The twist isn't entirely novel
But it comes with a lot of related confusing elements – because he goes on this hunt after someone without any real explanation to pick up an item without any real explanation. This ends up with him rescuing a woman which doesn't require explanation beyond, y'know common decency. She has had a horrific time and he's kind of a Tropey Arsehole tough Guy Who cares Really – y'know a Wolverine (though, if you think someone has been held prisoner as a sex slave, can you not spy on her when she's bathing? In fact, don't spy on her when she's bathing anyway, but to build on that further by doing it to a recent survivor of sexual assault? No. No no no way to make it worse). Once we've embarked on this storyline it's not bad – it has interesting elements, a nice twist and you can kind of ignore all of these plot elements I know nothing about on the vague assumption that they will be explained at some point (they're not.) If we could cut everything else away to use in an extra book and focus on the rescue + twist (with added bonus for a much more obscure reference to a Native American mythological creature). It's not amazing – and it is plagued by these extra elements (he reads minds when he kisses women?) and it has some really stilted yet over-elaborate writing that isn't my favourite.


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Jr Abilista
- Body Material ABS plastic
- Body Stickers Included
- Chassis Type MA
- Construction Type Assembly snap together kit
- Motor 130 included
- Requires A 2 AA batteries
- Scale 1/32
- Special Feature 1 The stylish body features air intakes in the nose and outlets in the rear fenders to further boost aerodynamic efficiency.
- Special Feature 2 A Parts are molded in Gray POM material.
- Special Feature 3 Wheels are fitted with 26mm low-profile tires.
- Special Feature 4 Rear skid bar, side stays and 6 low-friction rollers included.
- Special Feature 5 Comes with a double shaft motor to be mounted in the center of the model. Gear ratio = 3.5:1


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Credit cards have been around for years and it has proven to be a reliable tool for paying bills, tuition fees of your children or purchasing items or groceries you need at home. However, there might come a time where convenience can also be a cause for worry.
For those who have the habit to overspend or finds it difficult to control spending, owning a credit card can pose a big problem. The best solution is to get a prepaid visa credit card instead.
Definition and Advantages of a Prepaid Visa Credit Card
Prepaid visa credit card is a Visa card you can use to make purchases everywhere Visa debit cards are accepted just like a traditional Visa card. It gives the cardholder a safer feeling because he/she does not need to bring cash especially when traveling to other countries.
The difference is that when you have a traditional Visa card, you can purchase items and pay them at a later time. On the contrary, you need to add funds first to your account before you can start using your prepaid visa card.
Below are other advantages of a prepaid visa card:
- You can avoid over-spending. You only get to spend what you have loaded on the card. Managing your finances is easier and you have full-control of your expenses.
- You can use it to withdraw cash from ATMs worldwide.
- You can easily make purchases everywhere as long as they are accepting Visa cards. It can be from stores, online or by phone.
- People who love to travel can use it to pay for booking fees, hotel reservations, etc.
- You can use it to pay bills and buy gas for your car.
- You can track your spending online.
How to Get a Prepaid Visa Credit Card
1. You can apply for prepaid visa card from your nearest bank or online. You will be charged a considerably low fee to open a prepaid account. Application is quick and easy since no credit check needs to be done.
2. Register your Visa card in your name by telephone or online and establish an online account with your Visa card issuer.
3. Ask the issuer how you can activate your new prepaid visa card. Usually it is done by registering online or by telephone.
4. You will need to create a Personal Identification Number (PIN) so you can use your card at ATMs worldwide.
5. You can now use your new prepaid visa credit card to purchase items or pay bills. Check your balance at an ATM, by phone or on the internet. Reload your card so you can use it anytime.
Note: Some car rental companies do not accept pre paid credit cards so it is important to ask first if they are accepting prepaid visa cards. It is also important to note that some prepaid cards do not report to the credit bureaus. If you want to use your prepaid card for building credit, make sure that credit reporting service is provided.
About the Author
Tara Tiemann is a credit analyst for Go-prepaid.com which has been a resource site for people who want to live debt free. If you are on a budget using prepaid debit cards,prepaid credit cards and prepaid cell phone service can save you big money!


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Creating A Strong Dissertation With Ease: Helpful Guidelines
How hard is it for you to write a dissertation? How hard do you struggle to make sure that your paper comes off as one of the best you have ever written so far? These are simple questions that when you ask yourself, will be a lot easier for you to address, and at the same time make sure that you can use to build one of the best papers so far.
A good dissertation is supposed to have some quality oozing from it. The longer you spend trying to learn one or two things about this, the easier it will be for you to make sure that you can get some really amazing information to make yours a very good paper. Do not be the student that rushes to get their paper done and completed. You have to realize that some of these papers take a lot of time to craft, so whatever you do, make sure that you spend nothing but some quality time trying to address these papers properly.
In search of some good guidelines that will make yours one of the finest papers so far, let's bring in some important pointers that will act as a good guide for you as you proceed to work on this paper herein:
- Emphasize on proper research
- Articulate description of terms
- Deal with pertinent issues
Emphasize on proper research
The first thing that you need to do is to make sure that you put in a lot of effort in research for this particular paper. It will be necessary for you to do this so you can gather as much information as possible to help you write one of the best papers so far.
Articulate description of terms
The way you describe issues in this paper is supposed to be clear, concise and to the point. The concept here is to present your ideas as though you were giving a speech. Do not make things too boring or your audience will doze off.
Deal with pertinent issues
A good paper is supposed to address important issues. Of course you have the freedom of choosing the topics that you want to present in your paper. However, even with that freedom, you will still need to ensure that in the long run, your emphasis lies on presenting discussion topics that are relevant and which add more value to the paper you are writing.


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915 Garden Street, Santa Barbara, CA 93101,
805-564-4700 more info show less
Escape to Spanish Garden Inn, a jewel among Santa Barbara luxury hotels and your intimate retreat in the heart of downtown. Revel in genuine boutique accommodations, elegantly appointed and nestled in our lush garden surroundings. Discover for yourself the tranquil ambiance and ever attentive service that have made us the top rated hotel in Santa Barbara, California.
Find Spanish Garden Inn nestled in the heart of Santa Barbara's historic Presidio District and three blocks from State Street - home to the finest Santa Barbara shopping, dining and entertainment. Location is everything at our Santa Barbara luxury boutique hotel, within easy walking distance of numerous destinations as well as major attractions including The Granada Theatre, acclaimed wineries and the University of California at Santa Barbara.
1029 Orilla Del Mar, Santa Barbara, CA 93103,
805-965-0546 more info show less
The Inn at East Beach is a different kind of Santa Barbara boutique hotel: friendly, charming and surprisingly affordable. In fact, we're the perfect getaway for those who want an authentic Santa Barbara vacation without dropping a lot of dough. Location is key. We're one of the only budget-friendly East Beach hotels in Santa Barbara, located across the street from the sand and surf of East Beach. Even better, we're situated within 3 miles of famous Santa Barbara attractions like Stearns Wharf, Santa Barbara Bowl, shopping on State Street, Santa Barbara Zoo and over a dozen Santa Barbara wineries. You'll also find lots to love here at the hotel. From the enthusiastic welcome of our guest services team to the hip décor of our Santa Barbara accommodations, you'll agree that The Inn at East Beach has a style all its own. Complimentary breakfast included. Relax by the pool in our scenic outdoor patio lounge, or grab a towel and boogie board and head to the beach. See more of our Santa Barbara hotel amenities. Whatever makes your ideal California weekend getaway, The Inn at East Beach Hotel in Santa Barbara is here to help you stay well - and well within your budget!
Location is key. We're one of the only budget-friendly East Beach hotels in Santa Barbara, located only one block from the sand and surf of East Beach. Even better, we're situated less than 2 miles of famous Santa Barbara attractions like Stearns Wharf, Santa Barbara Bowl, shopping on State Street, Santa Barbara Zoo and over a dozen Santa Barbara wineries. For check-in after 10pm please contact us at 805-965-0546.
12825 Ventura Boulevard, Studio City, CA 91604,
818-769-4700 more info show less
The Sportsmen's Lodge tradition of excellence is a true testament to our ability to remain hip and relevant while retaining our signature old-Hollywood glam. An over-sized pool is the place to see and be seen. Free Wi-Fi access helps you stay connected. Our Los Angeles accommodation offers guests a whole host of amenities for timeless Studio City stays. Our guests enjoy access to the largest pool in the San Fernando Valley as well as a Pool Bar area, Jacuzzi and plenty of lounge chairs and tables nearby. Feel free to explore our six acres of quiet gardens. We also offer an adjacent full-service gym (cost is $10 per visit). Perhaps you're interested in exploring Universal Studios – we provide our guests with complimentary shuttle service and Universal Studios tickets available for purchase.
Charming country style hotel with sparkling waterfalls and landscaped gardens near area attractions - Comfortable guestrooms.


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L'avant Restaurant is located on 1st floor. The casual impression, warm atmosphere and experienced chefs at their live cooking stations are ready to welcome you.
Buffet style and à la carte options are available. An International choices from Indonesian, Asian, Western cuisine even a Freshly and delicious home made thin slice pizza with various topping that served with pesto are available. Do not forget to finish your meal with a delectable desserts – freshly made pastry, refreshing ice cream and more.
Opening hours :
6 AM to 10:30 PM
Early Breakfast : 4 AM to 6 AM
Breakfast : 6 AM to 10 AM
Lunch : 12 PM to 2.30 PM
Dinner : 6 PM to 10.30 PM


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Jennifer Presson, Branch President of Community Management Concepts, Inc. of Jacksonville, joined Associa in 2009 with 17 years' experience in real estate and property management, specializing in condominium and homeowner associations, apartments and commercial properties.
Presson oversees 56 associations and is responsible for the management, direction and leadership of property managers, portfolio managers, accounting, and administrative and maintenance staff. She serves as an adviser to property managers, conducting on-site visits, assisting with budgetary management and operational procedures.
Presson is a licensed Community Association Manager (LCAM), CMCA, and Licensed Real Estates Sales Person in the state of Florida.
Jennifer Presson, LCAM, CMCA President Office 904.448.3630 firstname.lastname@example.com
Marilyn Clayton received B.S. in Business Administration and Accounting from Florida International University, Miami Dade, Florida. Her professional interests focus on managerial skills and accounting. Marilyn's new title in Associa is Director of Management Services. She will be managing Deercreek along with supervising the management team at Associa.
Property firstname.lastname@example.com 904-448-3636 (direct line) 904-367-8554 (fax)
Kishwa Milliner Assistant Community Manager email@example.com 904-448-3631
Copyright © 2020 The Deercreek Country Club Owner's Association. All Rights Reserved.


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Here are some questions we find pop up more than others. If you don't see what you're looking for, please don't hesitate to call. (918) 664-9729
Frequently Asked Questions
- Who We Serve
As your digital x-ray, ultrasound, echocardiogram and EKG provider for Oklahoma, we serve nursing facilities, hospices, home health, jails, industrial screenings, micro hospitals, clinics and assisted living centers.
- Where does PHS serve?
We cover most of Oklahoma! Contact us to learn more about how we can serve you.
- What's your fax number?
Our fax number is 918-664-9765.
- How Can I Access MediMatrix
Medimatrix, the web portal we use to streamline all of our activity and help clients ranging from facilities to physicians gain access to information on their patients, can be found right here!
- Does PHS service private residences?
Of course! We've also greatly expanded our hours available to give home health patients more access to our imaging service. Give us a call to learn more!
- Do you perform ultrasound and Echo?
Yes we do! We have fantastic ultrasound and echo techs.


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We've heard the wise words from many a winner- Champions are made and not born. True enough. There is determination, dedication, devotion, passion and true grit behind champion's claim to the top spot. But is there a formula for this success? Is there a blueprint which can turn every passionate aspirant into winner? Whether in business growth or in sports, there is no sure shot recipe for success.
Every Winner is Unique
When we look around, we find that different people have reached the zenith, the peak, in their own fashion. None of them have followed a well trodden path. They have either made it at the first go and never looked back, or have stumbled in the first attempt, learned from their mistakes and come back with a bang to make the most of their second chances.
Success Breeds Success
Not an inane saying but a proven fact. It has been scientifically proved that success actually has a physiological impact on the chemistry of the brain and makes people and most living beings more confident, smarter, motivated and aggressive, setting the stage for greater accomplishments. By being self confident you can generate success experiences in your brain and gain from it biological benefits. It can make you anticipate success and be more able generate new ideas and build new leadership and business skills.
Try Again- Failure is Fuel for Success
Never buckle down to initial failures. Eventual success can be achieved from the lessons learned from failures. Entrepreneurial failures and setbacks are experiences that can shape much wiser and experienced, business leaders. They would be the ones who have the critical insights to face and win against any situation. An asset which is vital to build and grow start ups. Entrepreneurs who use failure to become more successful are the people who perceive their failure as a learning experience.
Be able to Bounce Back
If you have tripped in your first venture, that's no reason to stop trying altogether. Not being able to make it the first time teaches you to be open to alternative options to achieve better solutions. It also warns you to be wary of the consequences of certain actions. This is experience isn't it? Your next effort naturally will be less flashy more focused on the financial part. You will be going out not to impress but to create an impressive product. It will be much easier to launch your next creative idea, and handle the setbacks since experience is on your side. Your brain has been engineered to work out the way to win and most successful people know how to bounce back.
Entrepreneurial Learning
Champions are not born, they are made. To be a winner, you need determination and tenacity to face failure and bounce back again into the fray. Self confidence is a great brain booster and can take you safely through the tough times. Learn from experiences and use them as the foundation for future success.


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Dr. Suman Biswas
Note from the author: While the content of this article is common knowledge for most readers, it is mainly aimed at the wider readership of this website, particularly the young, who would surely be informed and enlightened by the different aspects of this festival….
According to Hindu mythology a demon named Mahishasura (the buffalo-demon), after praying long and hard to Lord Shiva, was granted a boon that no man or deity would be able to kill him. Mahishasur was very pleased with this boon as he felt no one could ever defeat him. He then started his reign of terror over the Universe. He even attacked the abode of the gods and conquered the heavens.
As the gods chafed at their defeat and humiliation, they took refuge under Lord Brahma, who took them to Lord Shiva and Lord Vishnu. The only solution left was the creation of a woman who possesses the ultimate power to defeat Mahishasur. Pure energy blazed forth from Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva – the trinity forming the 'Shakti' or energy of Godhood, all concentrating at one point that took the form of Goddess Durga. The gods then gifted the goddess with their weapons and other divine objects. Lord Shiva gave her a trident while Lord Vishnu gave her a spinning disc. Varuna gave her a conch and noose, and Agni gave her a spear. From Vayu, she received arrows. Indra, gave her a thunderbolt, and the gift of his white-skinned elephant Airavata was a bell. From Yama, she received a sword and shield and from Vishwakarma (god of Architecture), an axe and armor.
The beautiful Durga, armed with the fearsome weaponry of the gods, was ready to engage in battle. The demons could not help being awestruck. As Mahishasura's armies were struck down effortlessly by Durga, it became obvious to him that he was not invincible. Mahishasura was shocked and enraged by the defeats on the battlefield. He took on the form of a demonic buffalo, and charged at the divine soldiers of Durga, goring and killing many and lashing out with his whip-like tail. Durga's lion pounced on the demon-buffalo and engaged him in a battle. While he was thus engaged, Durga threw her noose around his neck. Mahishasura then assumed the form of a lion and when Durga beheaded the lion, Mahishasura escaped in the form of a man who came immediately face to face with a volley of arrows from Durga. The demon escaped yet again and then having assumed the form of a huge elephant, battered Durga's lion with a tusk. With her sword Durga hacked the tusk into pieces. The demon reverted once more to the form of the wild buffalo. He hid himself in the mountains from where he hurled boulders at Durga with his horns. Durga drank the divine nectar which was the gift of Kuber. She then pounced on Mahishasura, pushing him to the ground with her left leg. She grasped his head in one hand, pierced him with her sharp trident held in another, and with yet another of her ten hands she wielded her bright sword, beheading him. At last he was killed, and the remnants of the demon army fled in terror. Goddess Durga was also credited with killing the demons Shumbha and Nishumbha. There are innumerable stories around Durga, her courtship and marriage with Shiva, humiliation of Shiva at the hands of King Daksha (Daksha-yagna), Shiva's tandava which cut Sati (Durga) into small pieces which fell in different places in India (these places became holy places of pilgrimage with famous temples). Goddess Durga has altogether 108 names, denoting her beauty, majesty, grace and her role as the Protector and the Mother Goddess..
Durga Puja (worshipping Goddess Durga) was originally celebrated in spring. However, as mentioned in the epic Ramayana, Lord Rama worshipped 'Mahishasur-mardini' or slayer of the buffalo demon, by offering 108 blue lotuses and lighting 108 lamps, in the Hindu month of Ashwin (September-October) for invocation of the goddess before going to war with the demon king Ravana (5000-3000 BC). This autumnal ritual is known as 'akal-bodhan' or out-of-season worship. An interesting anecdote is that Rama, while worshipping Goddess Durga, found he was 1 lotus short of the 108 required, whereupon he proceeded to exenterate one of his own eyes with his bow and arrow (his eyes were said to be as beautiful as a lotus – kamal-lochan) as an offering. Seeing his faith, the Goddess immediately stopped him by grasping his arm.
Raja Kangshanarayan of Taherpur or Bhabananda Mazumdar of Nadia is credited for having organized the first Sharadiya or Autumn Durga Puja in Bengal in 1606 AD. The origin of the community Durga puja can be traced to the twelve friends of Guptipara in Hoogly, West Bengal, who collected contributions from local residents to conduct the first community puja called the 'baro-yaari' puja or puja conducted by twelve 'yaars'(friends) in 1790. 'Durga pujo was first started in Kolkata in 1832 by Raja harinath of Cossimbazar, who performed the Durga Puja at his ancestral home in Murshidabad from 1824 to 1831, notes Somendra Chandra Nandy in 'Durga Puja: A Rational Approach' published in The Statesman Festival, 1991. The baro-yaari puja evolved into the sarbajanin or community puja in 1910, when the Sanatan Dharmotsahini Sabha organised the first community puja in Baghbazar in Kolkata. The development of the community Durga Puja in the 18th and 19th century Bengal as a multifaceted socio-religious and cultural event contributed vigorously to the development of the modern Hindu Bengali culture. Initially, British officials and soldiers regularly attended Durga Pujas organised by influential Bengalis. 'The most amazing act of worship was performed by the East India Company itself: in 1765 it offered a thanksgiving Puja, no doubt as a political gesture to appease its Hindu subjects, on obtaining the Diwani of Bengal'. (Sukanta Chaudhuri, Ed. Calcutta: the Living City, Vol. 1: The Past). It is reported that even the Company auditor-general John Chips organized Durga Puja at his Birbhum office. In fact, official participation of the British in the Durga Puja continued till 1840, when a law was promulgated by the East India Company banning such participation."
The tableau of Goddess Durga also features her four children, flanked on her right by Goddess Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth, and Lord Ganesh, the god of wisdom, while on her left is Goddess Saraswati, the goddess of learning and Lord Kartik, the god of strength and valour. The main Puja is spread over 4 days, from the 7th day of the moon (Saptami) to the 10th day of the moon (Dashami). Dashami, also known as Dussehra in other parts of India, is the final day of the Puja when Lord Rama achieves victory against the demon-king Ravana. Folklore has it that Goddess Durga visits her father, Himavat, the personification of the Himalayas, during the 4 days of Durga Puja, and returns to the abode of her husband, Lord Shiva, on the final day. The traditional pratima or idol is made of clay with all five gods and goddesses under one structure known as 'ek-chala'(one cover).
Sovabazar Rajbari Puja, Kolkata 2012
There are two kinds of decorations that are used on clay – sholar saaj and daker saaj. In the former, the pratima is traditionally decorated with the white core of the shola reed which grows within marshlands. As the devotees grew wealthier, beaten silver (rangta) was used. The silver used to be imported from Germany and was delivered by post (dak). Hence the name daker saaj. The huge temporary marquees – held by a framework of bamboo poles and draped with colourful fabric – that house the idols, are called 'pandals'. Modern pandals are highly creative, artistic and decorative, and attract visitors who go 'pandal-hopping' during the 4 days of Durga Puja in Kolkata and other major cities of India.
Durga Puja at present is celebrated mainly by Bengalis and people from Eastern India, but people from the other regions of India and other communities participate enthusiastically as well. New Delhi, the capital city of India, has been organising Durga Puja since 1910, while Mumbai Durga Pujas are a huge draw with the crowds because they are graced by the Bollywood celebrities and performers.
Durga Puja is celebrated in at least 30 countries and 90 cities around the world today, from San Francisco to Tokyo, the latest addition being Copenhagen. The cold weather in many countries precludes celebration outdoors, and it is usually held inside halls. The United Kingdom has around 28 community Pujas, with 12 in London, 4 in the Midlands, and even in places like Bolton, Barnsley, Glasgow, Grimsby, Cardiff, Leeds, Liverpool, Milton Keynes, Manchester, Newcastle and Southampton. Our own Pujo at Walsall, Birmingham commenced way back in 1968, and has gone from strength to strength. From being a religious festival, it has morphed into a socio-cultural festival and is the most important annual get-together event of friends and relatives for the Bengalis. Does it mean that Durga Puja has lost its original ethos and purpose? Well, not quite so.
Swami Vivekananda, while inaugurating Durga Puja in 1901 at the Ramakrishna Mission, Belur Math, using a clay image made at Kumartuli, near Kolkata, best described the worship of the image of Durga: 'The Hindu does not worship the idol made of wood and clay, he sees Divine consciousness within the earthen symbol of the Goddess and loses himself in it.' While the rituals of fast, feast and pushpanjali (praying with flowers) evoke a whole range of emotions and spiritual fulfilment, the pomp and the gaiety attract the young and the old alike. Durga Puja still symbolises victory over evil at a personal level and in the society at large. While battling our inner demons and following our own conscience along the path of virtue over vice, it helps to seek comfort in the knowledge that there is a Goddess, who like a Mother, is there to protect the Universe and all its beings from being terrorised by the 'demons'.


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COLORADO SPRINGS, CO — The University of La Verne swimming and diving teams have been selected as Scholar All-America squads the College Swimming and Diving Coaches Association of America (CSCAA) announced.
The Leopards join 713 teams from 460 institutions from across all divisions on the NCAA as well as NAIA and NJCAA college and universities. In order to earn this honor, teams must have a minimum grade-point average of 3.0 or higher and maintain a roster of 12 or more student-athletes.
The La Verne women's squad earned a combined GPA of 3.44 while the men's team posted a GPA of 3.42.
Founded in 1922, the College Swimming Coaches Association of America (CSCAA) is a professional organization of college swimming and diving coaches dedicated to serving and providing leadership for the advancement of the sport of swimming & diving at the collegiate level.Watch Live Follow ULV Athletics on Twitter Like us on Facebook Watch on Youtube Follow us on Instagram


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Conscience of A ConservativeBook - 2017 | First edition
From the critics
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I respected Flake a little less after reading the book. He is forthright in his accurate portrayal of Trump and courageous as it likely cost his political career. He did it on principle, but those principles appear stiff and inflexible, highly ideological, and not ever examining contrary views. I am a liberal, so likely wouldn't agree with him on much, but what I look for in a conservative, or a progressive for that matter, is a world view that isn't totally black and white and has more sensitivity to other viewpoints.
Jeff Flake has given the reader a glimpse of what a politician faces in Washington. He describes actual situations and the outcomes of partisan based decisions. I am a center-Democrat but I found Republican Flake's writing an expression of a man with good common sense. Clearly, he has a moral compass that is severely lacking in Washington, D. C. and has identified the fractures in party politics.
"This is what happens when we exalt tactical victories over principle, give in to the politics of expediency and resentment, and forget who we are and what we are supposed to stand for." p. 43
Flake writes with conviction, clarity, efficiency of expression, and presents thought provoking commentary on Congress, the Senate and POTUS. A good read! I recommend it!
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Trinity University offers a number of different sources of aid to help defray the cost of tuition for students with demonstrated financial need. Various aid sources listed below may be combined.
The education department is committed to meeting the financial need of all students and reducing our students' overall loan indebtedness.
For more information, contact the education department at 210-999-7501.


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Tyson in the Studio
Pianist Andrew Tyson spends a week recording his 3rd recital album at Teldex Studios in Berlin. His new album, which is set to be released by Alpha Classics in the Autumn of 2019, features a Spanish themed programme to include music by composers such as Scarlatti, Granados, Mompou and Albéniz.
For further information and access to listen to Andrew's previous albums, click HERE.


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I am a native Chinese speaker, and I have lived in Toronto for 8 years since the time I was 18 years old. But my English listening skills are pretty poor. I cannot understand the movies in the theater without subtitles. So I really want to improve my English listening skills.
Active 7 months ago
Viewed 102 times
1This post should help: languagelearning.stackexchange.com/q/382/4939 – AML Jan 5 '19 at 1:00
The more you talk to native speakers the better your listening skills (and not only listening). There are also a lot of different options (listen to the radio, visit speaking clubs), but when you are trying to understand what a person you are listening to means - it's the best listening practice.
2Welcome to Language Learning Stack Exchange and thank you for your contribution. Since the person who posted the question has lived in Toronto for 8 years, don't you think that they need more specific advice instead of the very general advice you gave? – IkWeetHetOokNiet♦ Jan 11 '19 at 14:58
Thanks a lot for your note. Ray Z asked about the most efficient way, and I believe that way I've mentioned is that one. BTW after 8 years of living there he still "cannot understand the movies in the theater without subtitles", so probably as a Chinese native speaker he mostly communicate with Chinese-speaking people. So I advised to talk more to English native speakers. – Alex Kuchin Jan 11 '19 at 15:50


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05 Jun Status of BitShares.Org and Public Invite to BBF on Collaboration
In Brief
APAsia.tech would like to inform all that we have publicized our status, status of BitShares.org and invitation to BBF on Collaboration publicly via the following links on bitsharestalk.org:
This collaboration will allow for moving forward many aspects of both @apasia.tech and others efforts towards growing the BitShares Blockchain on a Global Level. Full details are in the link above, and further translations of the post linked above will be published on BitSharestalk.Org forum in more languages following this main announcement.
Special Mention and thanks to the translator team:
🇸🇮 Slovenian – Zavod Premik
🇹🇭 Thai – Gookgik Supaporn
🇵🇹 Portuguese – Diogo Gomes
🇨🇳 Chinese – Sherry Ying Gong
PLEASE, IF YOU DON'T HAVE AN ACCOUNT ALREADY, GO TO BITSHARESTALK.ORG, CREATE ACCOUNT, FILL IN THE PROFILE, AND PROVIDE PROPER COMMENT/FEEDBACK AT THE POSTS THERE. Any comments in public via Steem, Telegram, will not have any value in the process. Thank you for your support.


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Politic- Mid Worst Trip from Politic. on Vimeo.
Trap rider Ian Preut and Ilja Judizki spent their summer in NYC, and had enough power to film a full part.
Check out this rad clip, filmed by Mike Sass.
Check out this rad part from Jon Rowe for Politic Skateboards.
Hit our B2b store for the newest stuff.
Nomad Pro David Gastells spent some time in the US, and came back with a sick part.
MDCN welcomes ScumCo. skateboards to our grwowing core board rooster, we are stoked to have the guys on board.
They are passionate about skateboarding in every aspect, all products are made in USA with the help off their family and friends.
Hit our B2B store to check back on all the product we carry.
Here is the Dave Abair welcome clip for your viewing pleassure.
MDCN proudly welcomes Politic Brand Skateboards to our ever growing core skate rooster.
They are now alongside with east coast heavy hitters, Hopps, Traffic and Theories of Atlantis.
Politic is coming in strong with a solid team and line.
Be sure to check out our B2B store for the newest hard and softgoods.
Also check out their website for more infos and videos, here: http://politicbrand.com/
Josh Stewarts independent and video of the year, Static IV and V is still available in our dist.
Be sure to grab your copies today.
The waitin is over, independent filmmaker and Theories of Atlantis mastermind Josh Stewart, finished his 4 th film.
Here are the german premierdates, Josh will be attending the Berlin if possible.


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On countingPosted: 11 November 2018 Filed under: Architecture, Canberra, Childhood, Humour | Tags: Architecture, humour, Muppets, Vampires Leave a comment
Who is your favourite character from the Muppets?
Excluding Miss Piggy of course, because She is such a great hero and role model for us all, not to mention such a powerhouse amongst pigs, that I don't think it would be fair to make the rest of us compete on the same playing field as Her.
Mine is The Count. I loved him from the first moment I saw him. There are so many things about him that are absolutely great. Like, he's a vampire, yet he isn't all that scary. He's a really sharp dresser, with an intriguing, Bohemian-sounding (literally) Eastern European accent. He's highly educated, loves organ music, and is always happy. He made capes cool long before Harry Potter came along.
And he counts. Everything. As character catchphrases go, they don't get much better than "I love to count! Mwu ha hah."
For me, he is a soul mate.
My relationship to counting is not so much one of love as addiction. I can't help counting things. I feel a responsibility to the world, to make sure that things are adequately counted, so that it is known how many of them there are. That way, things will remain under control.
No doubt, that's why they tell women in labour to count the seconds between contractions.
Now those of you that know me, and know how much I love maths, might think that this is just a manifestation of that general phenomenon. But it's not. My love of maths is about depth, symmetry, harmony, aesthetics, the joy of finding a new pattern. Whereas my need to count is just a tic. I count steps when I'm jogging, magnets on a fridge, bricks on a wall. I do push ups on Tuesday and Saturday mornings just so that I can count them out loud in German – because that sounds so much more profound than counting them in English with an Australian accent. I count seconds between lightning and thunder, seconds of held breath when trying to dispel hiccups, and number of children in a class walking across the road on a school excursion.
In nothing is my need to count more apparent than in counting the storeys of multi-storey buildings. I put this down to growing up in Canberra in the seventies, when the only high-rise buildings in our known world were two office towers in Woden, of which I think one was about twenty storeys. Whenever I went there, I needed to count them again, just to make sure none of them had worn away or otherwise disappeared. It's odd then that I no longer remember how many there were. I'm sure it was at least twenty, and not more than twenty-five, but I can't tell you more than that. You'll have to go and count them yourself.
Those high rise buildings symbolised sophistication, cosmopolitanism, urbanity, everything that Canberra then wasn't. We even had a café owner that had to fight the council for years just to be allowed to have outdoor tables and chairs – something that must have been viewed suspiciously as Too European (meaning continental Europe, not Britain, which was Home) and in those days to be European was considered only one or two steps away from Communism.
But nevertheless, those Woden towers – so many storeys – my how grand! To a little boy, those big buildings in Woden were very exciting, although I never went inside one, and still haven't.
When I got bigger, I sometimes got to visit Sydney then, ultimately, came to live there. I thought it was amazing how many tall buildings they had. There were several skyscrapers, the largest being the Australia Square tower with fifty storeys. That ruled the roost for more than a decade, to be eventually surpassed in 1977 by the MLC Centre with sixty storeys. Like a true country bumpkin, I would walk up to the tower, look at the ground floor, then slowly tilt my head back until my gaze reached the top – a tiny point in the sky, seeming so far away.
But I didn't count the storeys. There was no point. You always lost track. Anyway, the really impressive thing was not these few skyscrapers, but that the average building in the CBD was at least four storeys high, often six or more. Coming from Canberra – a sea of one-storey bungalows – that was the real shock – that just ordinary street buildings could be so high. The fact that most of Sydney was a sea of boring bungalows just like Canberra didn't seem to matter when you were in the CBD.
So I started counting. For every building I passed I had to start at the bottom and count until I got to the top – was it five, six or seven? No, wait, there's a little penthouse, or a row of dormer windows just below the roof, so that's eight. Unbelievable!
I have lived in Sydney for more than half my life now, and worked in the CBD most days. But I still have to count any building with more than two floors. If it's more than four then I feel a small surge of pride – like 'that's proper urban that is'.
My family took me to Europe this last northern winter. We stayed on the fifth floor of an apartment building in Paris (that's sixth floor for Americans). I think there were seven floors altogether – the top one being attic style with windows peeking out through the dark-grey, zinc roof. In Paris nearly all buildings are between six and eight storeys, because it was all knocked down and re-built in a period of about twenty years under central control, directed by Baron Hausmann. You'd think I could have relaxed knowing that all the buildings were of height seven, give or take one but NO, I had to count most of them that we walked past, just to make sure. After all, if I didn't do it, what if nobody else did? Then it wouldn't have been counted and where would we be?
Same thing in London. At least there's a bit more variety in height there (don't tell anyone, but sometimes I wonder whether the much-praised uniformity of Paris's Hausmann streetscapes is just a little bit boring). And of course Liverpool.
Anyway, next time you are at a musical show and you just have to know how many chorus members there are, don't be shy. Go ahead and count them. Then tell your companions after the show. They'll be glad you did. Certainly the Count and I will.
Andrew Kirk
Bondi Junction, November 2018
TouchPosted: 4 August 2018 Filed under: Childhood, Culture, Psychology | Tags: Communication, Life, society Leave a comment
I love Peanuts.
There's a double entendre.
It could mean that I love ground nuts. I do, very much indeed. I can't imagine living a life without nuts, especially without peanuts. They are the food of the gods.
Or it could mean that I love Charles M Schulz's comic strip featuring Charlie Brown, Snoopy the beagle, Lucy the bossyboots and others. That is true too. I have some old books of Peanuts comic strips that I have had since I bought them at second-hand markets decades ago, and which I still really treasure.
One sequence of strips I was thinking of recently is when one of the characters – Linus, I think – was telling the others about haphephobia, which he explained in his overly earnest, nerdy way, was a fear of being touched. In one of those strips somebody accidentally almost touches Snoopy, who instantly leaps up metres into the air as an instinctive over-reaction.
I recalled this as I have been thinking recently about touch as a means of non-verbal communication, and how some people tend to touch others when they talk to them, while others assiduously avoid it. I'll call the former 'touchy', pausing only to note that this has nothing in common with the occasional use of that word to mean short-tempered.
When I think about the people I know that are touchy, It seems that most of them are women. The most usual touch is on the forearm, or sometimes the elbow. I know one person who rubs the side of your arm around the elbow when you talk to her – a gesture that I find unusual, but heart-warming.
What do these touches mean? They seem to communicate reassurance, goodwill, perhaps an indication that, right at this point in time, you have their full attention. Whether that is the intended meaning I don't know. Quite possibly there is no intended meaning. Touchy people seem to be more instinctive than others. Their words and actions stem from their un-self-conscious connection to the great cosmic flow – what Daoists call Wu Wei – rather than from premeditation.
In Anglo-Celtic culture, not many men touch, but some do. In my experience those that do tend to be matey about it, and are more likely to pat on the shoulder or the back than touch the forearm or hand. And they generally only pat other men.
I have habitually been a non-toucher. I don't quite have haphephobia, but I have been known to flinch slightly when somebody unexpectedly touches me, or even comes close. I don't know where it comes from. Freud would have us look to our childhood and, like almost every child growing up in the sixties and early seventies, I received plenty of corporal punishment when I was judged to have been naughty. My punishment was considerably lighter than that which many of my school friends told me about, and my parents never struck me on the head or anywhere that would cause any damage other than redness that lasted an hour or so. But nevertheless I can remember cringing before the blows that a parent was – with all the best intentions and believing that they were morally obliged to do this no matter how much they disliked doing it – about to deliver. Perhaps I cringed because I had a nervous disposition, or maybe my disposition became more nervous because of the punishment. I can't tell. I do know that many of my contemporaries seemed to be less physically nervous than I, so I Imagine my genetic predisposition played at least some part in it.
Whatever the reason, I have not been good at being touched and have certainly not been a toucher. But recently this has been changing. Perhaps I have been listening to too many philosophy podcasts about 'authenticity' and about how relationships with others are the only real thing in the world. Whether with conscious effort or just because one tends to relax more as one matures, I have become more capable of tolerating unexpected touch without flinching.
But wait, there's more!
I have, to my immense surprise, started to become, every now and then, a toucher. At first I surprised myself by, on occasion, gently tapping a forearm or a shoulder. Never on skin of course! We Anglo-Celtics need the reassurance of a shirt or jumper beneath our hand in order to feel that one is not being improper. Maybe some of the later taps were deliberate. It's hard to tell. But even though some taps may have been pre-considered, the overall trend is not. There is no plan.
The forearms and shoulders that I find myself tapping or patting are exclusively those of men. I think that is partly deliberate and partly instinctive. I have had it so soundly drummed into me that any uninvited touch of a woman other than one's life partner is not acceptable, that I have big unconscious barriers against ever doing that. In any case, in the current climate it seems wise to proscribe such actions to avoid the possibility of misinterpretation. It seems a pity, but that's just one of many ways that the Harvey Weinsteins of the world have made things so much worse for others. I wonder what other people think about that, and whether it will change with time. At least many women feel no constraint against touching men to whom they are talking, as well as, of course, other women.
I have been surprised too, about how non-frightening and positive it can be to do a simple tap or pat. It is such an efficient way to communicate goodwill and support and, unlike supportive words, it doesn't seem to run the risk of being interpreted as sarcastic. There's so much sarcasm in the world. We don't need people inferring it when it's not there.
This gradual opening to the possibility of touch seems a good development. But there's one Anglo-Celtic reservation I have that I don't think will ever change. I don't think I'll ever be able to tolerate a massage. It just creeps me out to much, people poking around in my neck muscles and such like. There are too many fragile parts in there that I feel are on the verge of getting damaged. And it's too close to being tickled, which I never was keen on. I don't know whether the childhood cringing from imminent punishment plays a part in it as well. Massages are supposed to make you relax but, for me, they do the opposite. Still, plenty of people like massages, so me not having any just means there are more for the rest of you.
A cynic might say 'What's the big deal? People touch skin to skin all the time in the business world, when they shake hands at the start of a meeting!' That is true and, being in the business world, I do that as well, with nary a thought. But it doesn't count, and you know it doesn't count, you cynics! Shaking hands is a meaningless stylised ritual that has long passed its usefulness. They say it was originally invented in order to show somebody you met that you weren't holding a weapon (an urban myth?). Except when visiting or living in the USA, I think that these days we can take as read the weaponlessness of those we meet. Plus it spreads germs. I sometimes wonder 'What if I'm about to break out in a cold? I'd hate to give it to somebody else.'. We all know that the most infectious period with a cold is just before you realise you have one – or is that another urban myth? I admire the Japanese, who bow when meeting people for business, and then present business cards in a pleasingly formal way.
The point is that it's the voluntariness of the unbidden touch that can make it so scary to do, or to receive. There's nothing scary in what is mandated, as handshakes before business meetings are. Or, for that matter, the compulsory ballroom dancing lessons we had in senior high school, where we boys had to hold girls' hands as we marched to and fro, then twirled them about, or twirled about them, whichever it was (I wasn't terribly good at ballroom dancing). We were mostly too terrified even to talk to the girls at school, let alone touch them (we outnumbered them five to one so it seemed presumptuous to assume any of these rare and special humans would wish to hear anything we had to say), but when the dancing mistress fixes you with her beady eye and snaps 'Take positions! Join hands! Go!', you just obey.
This essay at one point had the word 'sashayed' in it (can you guess where?). But now it doesn't. I think that's an improvement.
Andrew Kirk
Bondi Junction, August 2018
About smilingPosted: 3 September 2016 Filed under: Aging, Childhood, Psychology, Uncategorized | Tags: Aging, Children, Faces, Psychology, Smiling 1 Comment
George Orwell said 'At the age of fifty, everyone has the face s/he deserves'.
I first heard that saying decades ago and for some unknown reason remembered it. I was never very confident about exactly what Orwell meant by it, but I have always interpreted it to mean that if you spend your life being cross you will end up looking like a cranky old wo/man. But if you spend your life smiling kindly, you will look like a kind old person. It goes along with that other old saying, that your face will get stuck with whatever expression you are wearing when the wind changes (or does that rule only apply if you are making a face at somebody?).
If it were true, it's bad luck for those that suffer a lot of pain or grief in their first few decades. They would end up looking permanently in pain or sad.
There's not much we can do to avoid pain or grief, but we have at least some control over whether we scowl or smile on those around us.
Orwell's saying came back to me at around the age of forty. I didn't remember what the cutoff age was but I remembered that you had to watch out if you didn't want to end up like Mr Wintergarten or any other fictional old person the neighbourhood children avoided in fear.
I started paying occasional attention to my facial expressions, noting when I smiled. I was somewhat relieved to find that I smiled quite often, partly because my children, who were all below ten years old at the time, often made me laugh or smile at their antics. 'Thank goodness!' I thought. I would be safe from ogredom and the neighbourhood children would be free from my future reign of terror.
There are two special occasions when I do my best to smile – they are when riding my bicycle on public roads, and when jogging.
The reason for the jogging smile is that I heard that a famous American public intellectual and wit said something like 'If I ever see a jogger smiling I might try it'. For a long time I thought Gertrude Stein said that but now the internet tells me it was actually the comedian Joan Rivers in 1982. I don't know if others would count Joan Rivers as a public intellectual, but I like to think of Public Intellectuality as a broad church. Anyway, I resented the implication that joggers were a miserable bunch that hated jogging and did it either because, like banging your head against a wall, it feels so good when you stop, or because like an Opus Dei monk wearing a cicatrice, they felt that the pain they were suffering was somehow accumulating points for them in their heavenly bank account.
Fie on you Ms Steinem (yes I know, I get Gertrude Stein and Gloria Steinem mixed up – pathetic isn't it) I admonished her inside my head. I don't suffer when I jog. I quite enjoy it most of the time, and sometimes I even love it. But I had to admit she had a point about the smiling. Joggers didn't tend to smile, perhaps because they were too busy trying to breathe.
So I determined to set the world to rights. I became possibly the world's first ever smiling jogger. I didn't smile all the time. It is quite tiring on the facial muscles to maintain a smile for minutes at a time, as any games show barrel girl will attest (some people think that catwalk models look so sulky these days because they are perpetually hungry, but I think it may also be because it is more relaxing to maintain a vacant gaze than a beaming smile). But as soon as a passer-by hove into sight, I lit my face up like a Christmas tree, so they could see just how much fun I was having.
This led to some peculiar looks, and mothers shepherding their children anxiously away from me with worried expressions on their faces.
My campaign of smiling on a bicycle was for a different reason, and met with rather more success. There are a bunch of nasty 'shock jocks' in my city that anathematise anybody that expresses any concern for the environment as a Luddite, anti-democratic communist. They save their most virulent hatred for refugees and bicycle riders, in both cases, apparently because they clog up the roads and thereby interfere with the God-given right of every right-thinking person to drive their Land Cruiser down any street at 60km/h plus, unimpeded.
While most people, fortunately, are not influenced by this outpouring of bile, it does have some spillover effects and it did tend to generally increase the degree of hostility between cyclists and motor-car drivers. I thought that if I smiled at motorists that I encountered (or, at least, at the ones that hadn't just nearly killed me by turning in front of me, cutting me off, passing too close and fast or just blaring their horn at me so close as to make me nearly fall off in fright) I would be doing my little bit to rebuild cordial relations.
I am pleased to report that this little strategy, unlike campaign Joggers-Can-Smile-Too, met with unexpected success. I received plenty of return smiles, waves and other gracious, heart-warming gestures. So, take that, Alan Jones!
For some reason it is also easier, and feels more natural, to smile when riding than when jogging. It might be because riding is after all more intrinsically fun than jogging, because of the whizzing. We all love to whizz after all, and not many of us are capable of jogging at whizzing speed. I used to be able to, but have not been able to for a long time now. Plus, every time one's foot hits the ground (which is about eight-three times a minute, in case you were wondering), one's facial muscles all get wobbled about by the shock-wave, making it more than usually hard work to maintain a smile. If you don't believe me, look at a slow-motion replay of the 100m race in the Olympics and watch what the faces do. Ignore that famous sideways smile photo of Usain Bolt at the Rio Olympics. That was in a semi-final, so he wasn't really running very fast (for him).
There's also the fact that, because the air is rushing towards you quite fast on a bike, you don't need to open your mouth into a big fat O shape to get enough air in. A sweet smile leaves more than enough opening for enough of the rearward rushing air to find its way to the lungs.
After a while, it just became a habit to smile when I was riding my bicycle, at least, when I wasn't climbing a difficult hill or negotiating a particularly dangerous traffic situation.
So, in between the child-induced smile, the jogging smile and the bicycling smile, it seemed that my face was probably doing what was necessary in order to meet Mr Orwell's challenge.
Now I am well past fifty, so I suppose I am out of danger. My face has, I suppose, become set in whatever configuration it is to maintain from here on in. The only expected future changes are ever-increasing numbers of wrinkles, perhaps sun-spots and scars from removed skin lesions and a gradual loss of teeth and hair. But can I be sure of that? After all, while Mr Orwell's skill as an author is beyond question, his expertise as a gerontologist is comparatively unknown. Could he have been mistaken? What if it is sixty, seventy, or even eighty? One cannot be too careful. Perhaps it is too early to stop smiling.
Which brings me to the topic of this essay (better late than never): adolescent and young-adult offspring just don't seem to compel beaming, helpless smiles from adults in the same way that two year olds do. Of the positive emotions that adolescents can generate (we'll not dwell on the negative ones), there are affection, pride, sympathy and a number of others but "Oh my goodness that's so adorable!" is not usually one of them. I presume this has something to do with evolution. We are programmed to find almost every utterance and action of a two-year old adorable, because they cannot fend for themselves and, if we didn't find them adorable, we might not be inclined to fend for them – which wouldn't do at all, not if we want them to grow up to be Prime Ministers. But above the age of about sixteen, the fending skills of the human species appear to be adequate, so evolution decided to ease off on the adorability spell. That may be all very well – after all, many adolescents prefer to spend time in any company other than that of their parents, and parents are easier to shake off if they are not following you around with adoring grins on their faces. But how are we to meet our smiling quota in the absence of such an influence? I have a feeling that now I may spend less than half the amount of time smiling that I did ten years ago. I can put some of that down to my mid-life crisis, but I think the partial maturation of my children has to bear some of the responsibility.
What, then, is to be done? One has to find other things to make one smile. But what? That will have to be the topic of another essay.
Ian Dury knew though. He made a list, in his song Reasons to be Cheerful (Part 3).
Here's a picture of Ian Dury showing he had not much to smile about, with his grim environment and the after-effects of his childhood polio on display. And yet…….
Excitement about learning complicated thingsPosted: 29 March 2014 Filed under: Childhood, Culture, Education, Language, Mathematics, Philosophy, Physics, Science | Tags: culture, Education, Jargon, language, Linear Algebra, Mid-life crisis, Modules, Rings, Sheldon Cooper, Symbols, The Big Bang Theory 1 Comment
Do we all have things we look forward to learning? In early 1983 I was very excited about learning the meaning of 'Direct decomposition of a finitely generated module over a principal ideal domain'. That was the name of the central section of the main text for my second year uni algebra course. The text was 'Rings, Modules and Linear Algebra' by Hartley and Hawkes.
I understood from the course summary and the blurb on the textbook that learning how to do the activity described by the above italicised phrase was one of the main goals of this course.
What I found particularly appealing about the goal was that it referred to three different things, none of which I knew what they were. What is direct decomposition? Dunno! What is a finitely generated module? Dunno! What is a principal ideal domain? Dunno!
To add to the titillating obscurity of the subject, each of the three things was qualified by an adjective or adverb. The first two things only had one qualification each: direct decomposition rather than just any old ordinary decomposition, and finitely-generated module rather than just a commonorgarden module. But the third thing actually had two qualifications. This was not just an ideal domain or a principal domain but it was a principal, ideal domain. How exciting is that?
(Mathematicians may wish to object that the comma does not belong, and that the word 'principal' actually qualifies the word 'ideal' rather than the word 'domain', so that 'a principal ideal is a thing', whereas a 'principal domain' and an 'ideal domain' are 'not a thing', to borrow the 'thing' terminology that seems to be so popular amongst today's young people. But let's not allow this minor technical point to spoil a good story).
Why, you might wonder, was I so fascinated by a topic with so much jargon in it? What, you might ask, and perhaps not entirely without reason, is my problem?
The answer, I think, is that I have a fascination with jargon, and more generally with weird, obscure and bizarre things. The jargon has to be justified though. I have no interest in the jargon invented by some professions (merchant bankers and stock brokers in particular come to mind) to describe perfectly ordinary concepts in obscure ways in order to make them appear clever to others and justify their exorbitant fees. No, what excites me is jargon that people have no choice but to invent because the concepts it is describing are so abstract and complex that ordinary words are useless.
The jargon of mathematics and many of the sciences is of this justified type. When a physicist tells you that the steps necessary for predicting the perihelion of Mercury include performing a contraction of the Riemann tensor and another contraction of the Ricci tensor in a Swarzschild spacetime, or that the possible states of a carbon atom form an exterior algebra generated by the Hilbert spaces of electrons, neutrons and protons, she is describing things that cannot be described in plain language. And yet they are real things, not just insubstantial ideas. They are things that enable humans to perform wonders.
More to the point though, when Doctor Who announces that he has 'Reversed the polarity of the neutron flow', we learn that as a consequence of this linguistic peculiarity the universe, which was about to have its space time continuum rent asunder (ouch!), has been saved. This is no postmodernist proliferating syllables for the sake of mystery and pomposity, as in:
"We can clearly see that there is no bi-univocal correspondence between linear signifying links or archi-writing, depending on the author, and this multireferential, multi-dimensional machinic catalysis." [Felix Guattari]
At heart, I think my fascination with genuine jargon is just part of an insatiable curiosity. The world is so full of intricate patterns and amazing phenomena, yet we will only ever get to see a tiny part of what is there. I want to find out what I can while I have the chance.
I can't remember much about that 1983 algebra course, but I can picture that topic title going around and around in my brain like an obsession. I particularly remember running around the uni oval in athletics training, thinking as I went that within a few months I would actually be one of the privileged few that understood 'Direct decomposition of a finitely generated module over a principal ideal domain', even though at that time I had no idea of what it even meant. It was like counting down the days to Christmas.
I can't remember the point at which we finally learned how to do it. Perhaps it was a bit of an anti-climax. Perhaps it turned out not to be as exotic as it sounded, or familiarity had bred contempt (or at least dissipated some of the awe) by the time we neared the end of semester.
As well as spoken jargon I also have a taste for unusual symbols. In primary school, when everything we do in maths is a number, the idea of doing algebra in high school, where we would use letters rather than numbers, seemed very grown-up. In junior high school we could look forward to trigonometry with those funny sin, cos and tan words, then logarithms and exponentials with log x and superscripts ex and then, even more alluring, calculus in senior high school with those loopy integral signs ∫.
At uni I couldn't wait to be able to use the 'plus' and 'times' signs with circles around them – ⊕ and ⊗, the special curly 'd's that are used for partial differentials ∂. And the upside-down triangle ∇. I imagined it would be like learning a secret language, into which only specially selected people would be initiated (Yes I was vain! So sue me. What privileged, talented 20-year old isn't?) As it turned out I didn't get to use ∂ much, and didn't get to learn about ⊗ or ∇ at all, because of my subject choices.
I very much wanted to learn about 'tensors'. I had heard that they were like matrices (rectangular tables of numbers that all maths students have to study in first year uni) only more complex, and that you needed them to do relativity theory. But again I missed out because of my subject choices. Not that I regret that. If I hadn't made the choices I did, I'd have missed out on learning about finite-state automata and NP-complete problems, and would never have had the opportunity to design a computer chip that converted binary to decimal or to write parallel-processing computer programs to simulate populations of aliens (that's beings from other planets, not the human immigrants the Tea Party are so worried about).
Over the last few years I have rectified my lamentable ignorance of tensors, ⊗ and ∇, as a consequence of my mid-life crisis. Some people buy red sports cars and get plastic surgery. I decided I couldn't live another year without understanding General Relativity and Quantum Mechanics. It takes all sorts, I suppose.
An unexpected bonus of this flurry of crisis-induced self-study was two new hieroglyphics 〈x| and |y〉 – complete with funny names: 'bra' and 'ket' (because when you put them together to make an 'inner product', written 〈x|y〉, you make a 'bra[c]ket' – get it?).
An unexpected bonus of this flurry of crisis-induced self-study was two new hieroglyphics 〈x| and |y〉 – complete with funny names: 'bra' and 'ket' (because when you put them together to make an 'inner product', written 〈x|y〉, you make a 'bra[c]ket' – get it?). That affords me the smug satisfaction of being able to understand – if not necessarily able to follow – most of what is written on the sitting-room white board that's often in the background in The Big Bang Theory. And yes, it usually is real physics or maths, not just made-up jumbles of unrelated symbols. Sometimes it's even relevant to the story-line, like when Sheldon had Permutations and Combinations of a set of 52 elements written on the board, because he was trying to figure out a magic card trick one of the others had done (not that they ever referred to the board). That's in contrast to Doctor Who, where they just sling any old combination of fancy words together ('Reverse the polarity of the neutron flow' is not a 'thing'. Or at least, it's not a 'thing' you can do.).
I'm not expecting this essay to resonate with many people. It is a rare perversion to be intrigued by arcane language and symbols. But perhaps it's not unusual for people to long to learn something or other that is currently far beyond their knowledge or abilities. It might be how to crochet an intricate doily, to speak a foreign language fluently, to recite The Rime of the Ancient Mariner from memory or, when a bit younger, yearning to be able to ride a bicycle without training wheels, swim the Australian Crawl or play a piano with both hands at the same time.
Andrew Kirk
Bondi Junction, March 2014
On AdventuresPosted: 3 July 2013 Filed under: Adventures, Canberra, Childhood, Culture, Fiction, Humour, Literature, Philosophy | Tags: Adventures, Canberra, Charles Dickens, CS Lewis, culture, Enid Blyton, Fiction, Life, Literature, philosophy, Tolkien Leave a comment
When I was little I wished I could have an adventure. I put it down to reading too much Enid Blyton. The children in her stories were always having adventures. In the Wishing Chair and the Faraway Tree they visited magical lands in the clouds, got chased and imprisoned by goblins, wizards and stern school-teachers (Dame Slap and Mr Grim), flew on various improbable objects and had regular feasts. In the Famous Five and the Secret Seven they snuck across dark moors at night, following shadowy men in overalls who turned out to be either burglars or smugglers, frequently nearly getting caught, but finally managing to trick the wrong-doers and manoeuvre them into a sticky situation in which the grateful police were able to arrest them.
'Oh, why can't I have adventures like that?' I wondered. 'Why is my life so dull? If only I could have just one adventure, I'd be so happy!'
In primary school I loved playing soldiers with my friends in the bush around my home. Sometimes it was just me and my imagination. There were lots of great places: creeks with banks you could peer over to take a shot at the enemy, tall grass you could creep through, mounds of stones and sticks to hide behind and wriggle over. 'If only' I thought 'this was a real war and I was a real soldier, with a tin helmet, a combat back-pack and a Lee-Enfield rifle'. I never thought about what shooting someone, or getting shot, would mean for me or them. One generally doesn't, as a seven year old boy. When you're shot you just fall over. You don't bleed or scream.
When I was older, I graduated from Blyton and Boys' Own Adventure Annual to CS Lewis and from there to JRR Tolkien. 'Fellowship of the Ring' – now there's an adventure': travelling enormous distances over magical landscapes of enchanted forests, brooding mountains and miasmic swamps. Pursued by hideous spectres on terrifying black stallions. Dreading the power of the Dark Lord that I know is out there searching for me, growing stronger every day. I wasn't that keen on the battle scenes – they were too chaotic and repetitive for me – but the struggle against the elements, trying to traverse the Misty Mountains in a blizzard, getting lost in the Mines of Moria, evading the tentacled monster in the black pool, that was the stuff of life! I longed to peek into Mordor, or even just to visit the Misty Mountains.
In later high school I often rode my bicycle out into the countryside. One of the rides was an 80 kilometre circuit past Tidbinbilla, to the West of Canberra in the Australian Capital Territory. There were steep hills and, further to the West, the Brindabella mountains. They were pretty good, and would occasionally get snow in mid-winter, but they were no Misty Mountains. Partly it was the lack of craggy peaks, partly the usual lack of snow, and partly the fact that the surrounding countryside was mostly brown, nothing like the lush green of Tolkien's Shire.
One winter it rained more than usual, and the foot-hills turned green. I remember looking at them as I rode by and thinking: 'Now if only they didn't have those wire fences, and they had snowy peaks in the background, then this would be like the Lord of the Rings!' There could even be dwarves and barrow-wights in tunnels under the ground.
Perhaps today's teenagers would instead imagine that it was the countryside near Hogwarts, with dragons and hippogriffs flying overhead.
Later in high school I became more interested in girls and less interested in Tolkien. CS Lewis would have been disappointed in me.
I don't recall thinking about adventures at all between my mid-teenage years and a few months ago, when I suddenly remembered riding through the Tidbinbilla hills and wishing I could see orcs peeping up above the granite boulders that litter the ground there.
What seems odd to me now is that it never occurred to me that riding my bike on an 80km loop in mostly deserted countryside, with no mobile phone, nobody knowing where I was, and with inexpertly driven cars occasionally whizzing past me at 100kph, was an adventure of its own. Not to mention the occasional attacks of dogs from below and magpies from above.
Nor did it occur to me that there was plenty of danger in the snakes that undoubtedly hid in various parts of the long grass through which I imaginatively snuck in my primary school war games, or the stones that my friends and I would occasionally hurl in one another's direction, pretending they were grenades ('oh to have a real live grenade!').
In those days we had freedom that kids these days can only dream of. We could go wherever we liked, and do what we wanted as long as it wasn't something likely to raise the ire of our parents or the police, or if it was, then as long as they didn't find out about it. But we lamented the lack of smugglers and orcs in our lives. Oh, dreary existence that has no such pantomime baddies to liven it up!
Not that there weren't real baddies. I remember Barry the Bully at primary school (not his real name), a lumbering, brutish lad whose only means of expressing himself seemed to be to thump the daylights out of some unfortunate child of lesser stature who had the misfortune to wander nearby. I vaguely remember him pummelling me one day, surrounded by the usual ring of excited nine-year olds looking on. I suppose I could have considered that an adventure, but somehow I didn't. Like most of my schoolmates I feared Barry then. Looking back now, I can only feel compassion. I wonder what sort of life he has now, and if he is still alive. I fear he may not be flourishing, but I may be wrong. Barry wasn't really bad. He was just an inexorable product of his genes and his environment, and I suspect he suffered from his inability to interact with people except through violence, as much as others did.
There were lesser villains too, like the minor antagonists in a pantomime melodrama. The boys from the government school sometimes stole my school bag and tossed it from one to the other, to tease and punish me for being a Roman Catholic and going to the RC school. Then there were the boys at my school who mocked me for having so many patches on my hand-me-down shorts. I remember my mother once tearing down to our school in a rage and excoriating them for their teasing. I can't remember what led up to that but I remember vividly the verbal tirade she unleashed on them and their quivering, shame-faced silence as they stood there being denounced. I don't think they teased me any more. I suppose in that episode my mother was as much a hero of the adventure as Galahad or Lancelot, Jupiter Jones or Janet (Secret Seven) ever were.
Then there was the dreaded Mr F at junior high school. He was as violent as Wackford Squeers – another adventure villain that loomed with lurid clarity in my over-excited imagination. The main difference was that, unlike Squeers, Mr F would smile in a broad, friendly manner as he twisted your arm behind your back or lifted you out of your chair by the ears, with his stubby, nicotine-stained fingers. I think he saw this violence as some sort of game, expressing good-natured affection to the students. It was not malicious. Generally I bore him no resentment, and even quite liked him. There was only one occasion when I mentioned to my mother that I thought my arm might be broken because, after a particularly savage twisting, I couldn't use it properly. It got better. Yet despite the Squeers-like violence (would Severus Snape be a modern-day equivalent?) it never occurred to me that these elements of colour in my life were as good as any Blytonian or Dickensian adventure. I still thought my life was bland.
When I was five we lived in Aberystwyth, Wales and my parents announced that we were going to move to Australia. This set off two fantastic trains of thought in my impressionable young mind.
Firstly, I imagined that Australia was a land covered with thick, dark jungle, and that we would live in a hut in a small clearing. The jungle would be full of snakes and whenever we went outdoors we would have to tread carefully to avoid being bitten.
Secondly, I remember resolving, standing next to the stove while dinner was being prepared, that our arrival in Australia would mark the beginning of a new life for me, and would be an opportunity for me to put my sins behind me and become the good boy that I wanted to be. Inculcation of Catholic Guilt began early in the RC church in those days, at least it did in Wales (those Welsh nuns were well fierce!). I can't remember whether I ever recalled this resolution once we arrived in Australia. Regardless, the resolution did not seem to be fulfilled. A couple of years later I was as guilt-ridden as every RC boy is expected to be.
One would think that moving to a jungle-filled, snake-infested, primitive land where one seeks to purify one's soul from its many misdeeds contains many of the elements of a classic adventure. But again I didn't see it that way then. Snakes and pious aspirations are all very well, but where were the smugglers?
Later teenage years and university have different sources of excitement from boyhood: discovering girls, discovering sex, discovering algebraic topology.
I travelled a lot after leaving school, in a gap year, in university holidays and after leaving uni. I travelled through many lands: Europe, Morocco, India, South-East Asia, Iran, Pakistan. I was mostly on my own and always on a shoe-string budget, sleeping and eating in some very run-down places and encountering many dicey situations – recklessly driven buses careering on two wheels around U-bends on precipitous mountain passes, enduring dysentery and fever in a lonely concrete hotel room, sinister strangers in railway carriages trying to show me pornographic pictures and suggesting mutual exploration of what they depict, crossing the Iranian border with US bank notes hidden in my shoe to avoid the extortionate exchange rate required by the Iranian border controls (and wondering what they'd do to me if they found them). I would have described such things as an experience, but the word adventure never occurred to me. Adventures happen to other people, and usually only in books. Not to me.
When one grows up – whenever that is, some time between the age of 25 and 40 for me – one has other challenging, frightening and exciting experiences. Accompanying one's partner through the experience of childbirth. Raising a child. Buying a house. Moving across the world to live and work in another country. Most people know what these experiences are like. As a five year old, I would have found the contemplation of such experiences terrifying, yet there I was wishing I could chase smugglers in Cornish caves, or dodge German machine-gun fire as I leaped from foxhole to another.
When we middle-aged people look back over our life to date, there will in most cases be plenty of exciting, surprising, dangerous events, in between the humdrum and routine. Yet in my case at least, I often saw the danger or the challenge in a negative light at the time, wishing it were not there. I have only recently realised how contrary this is to my childhood wish for adventures, a wish that surely some other children must share. The only things I can think of that are missing from real-life experiences, compared to the Secret Seven or Harry Potter, are the presence of magic, and of people trying to kill, or at least imprison you. Yet modern science is far more wonderful, surprising and weird than any tale of magic or myth ever was, and even if people aren't trying to kill us, we nevertheless live in the constant danger of being accidentally killed by a motor car or attacked by a virus or cancerous cell.
Perhaps if we could re-frame our perception of the vicissitudes of life as an adventure, rather than an imposition or a chore, we would appreciate it more. When we trip while jogging and seriously bark our elbows on concrete, as I did the other day, we can view that as another interesting experience, rather than reacting as 'woe is me'. Maybe, if one day I have to undergo chemotherapy, or a lingering terminal illness, I will be able to even frame those as new experiences. We shall see. Perhaps even death, as that great philosopher Albus Dumbledore said, is "the next great adventure".
Andrew Kirk. Bondi Junction, 3 July 2013


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