The Harbinger

There's an old guy who lives nearby. He hobbles along with his little dog. To my great joy, he is yet another stranger who feels the compelling need to come and talk to me at the bus stop. The Harbinger.

He walks by, goes to the servo to get the paper, then walks back past me, on his way home. Between the servo and the bus stop he quickly digests the headlines, formulates an opinion and prepares a speech. Then when he gets to me, without so much as a hello, he launches into a diatribe of one kind or another, always full of doom and gloom.

"Have you heard about Wall Street?", he asked this morning as he walked by, his little beady eagle eyes suddenly burning into my mine. "Um..", I began, but apparently his question was rhetoric, and without waiting for a reply proceeded to fill me in on the current state of Wall Street.

Not many people know this, but GST was the cause of the Great Depression. And now Wall Street has crashed? Well of course--he foresaw all of this happening before I was even born. And these supposed 'experts' are only just now catching on. Oh, he saw it coming all right. Several minutes elapse, as he probes deeply into these current affairs. He never breaks eye contact, but holds me in this strange spell where I dare not look away. My bus may have gone by, I wouldn't know. He apparently never blinks. He may be part bionic, I'm not sure.

And then his eyes drop worriedly back to the footpath, and he keeps walking. No waiting for a response, no goodbye, no thanks for listening to my long speech. Just gone. And I'm left standing there, feeling, well frankly a little used.

Now, I don't mind listening, if someone wants to have a chat. Hey, if you're lonely, come and see me at the bus stop, and confide away. I am a captive audience who won't interrupt you. I don't mind. But I do have a bit of self esteem, and I don't like to be objectified. There is more to me than just a pair of ears, you know, and well, you make me feel cheap.

I at least need a hello, or a good morning before you tell me your problems. You need to ease into it with a bit of chit chat, a bit of conversational foreplay, if you will. If you can't provide me with this, well I am going to start asking for some kind of monetary reimbursement for my services. People get payed good money to be talked at, you know.

Giving and Withholding

One man gives freely, yet gains even more;
another withholds unduly, but comes to poverty.

--Proverbs 11:24

Cuzzies

Had a nice family thing yesterday arvo for my Dad's birthday. I love sitting around, hanging out with my family, I'd do it every day if I could. Little e had fun playing with her five cousins.

Being the youngest, and the only girl, she gets looked after pretty well.

Idol

I agree with Simone--Idol was kinda dull last night. The ones who I like didn't really do anything special, and the ones I don't like seemed to do a bit better. Madam, my favourite chose a strange song, and Sophie, my least favouite was much better than previously. My predictions--

Bottom three- Teale, Thanh and Luke. And Thanh will go.

Paul Newman Dies At 83

I was really sad last night to hear that Paul Newman, one of my favourite actors of all time has died of cancer. He was really a cool guy, on and off the screen.

R.I.P.

Boooooo

The footy sucked on the weekend. The two teams I didn't want to get to the GF did. Melbourne and Manly again.. BOOOOOORRRRRIIINNGG. Was very sad to see the Warriors trampled. Don't care anymore.

Marketing Whizz

I am going to go into marketing for food products aimed at children (ie, with cute packaging and inflated prices). Over the weekend I came up with not one, but two hot ideas. I am really on a roll. Check out these bits of genius--

1.Yumpets. Like a crumpet, but better. They would divide into little bite sized squares, so you whack a big square in the toaster, and when it comes out, you just break along the lines, dividing into six little squares.

2. Pasta-Parcels. Yes, it sounds like pass-the-parcel--What an awesome play on words, people! Little ravioli squares, maybe coloured to be more fun. And with simple child-friendly fillings.

Oh man, I know it's wrong to be proud, but seriously, this stuff is gold.

Why I Despise Cockroaches #723

Not only will they survive a nuclear holocaust, but you can't flush the little cretins down the toilet. You flush, and when the water settles, it's still there, looking up at you smiling from beyond the grave.

Sometimes even when you wrap them up in toilet paper, they still manage to unwrap themselves (even though they are dead) and get back to the surface. They are like little, brown, vile Houdini's.

Book Group- Week Twelve (Part 6, iv-vi)

An Overview--

-Svidrigailov discloses to Raskolnikov a lot about his life. He tells his side of the story regarding Dunya. The way he tells it, Dunya wasn't as innocent as everyone believes, but that she liked him too.

-He says that he now has a fiance, therefore that R's suspicions about him going after Dunya are erroneous. The fiance is only a very young girl, and Svidgigailov apparently has no moral qualms about this, and his other lecherous exploits. This disgusts and infuriates Raskolnikov.

-R is intent on accompanying Svid, but Svid eventually gives him the slip, allowing him to follow through with his intentions to meet with Dunya on a bridge. R happens to be on the bridge also, but is oblivious to the meeting.

-Svidrigailov takes Dunya back to his rooms, locks her in, and sets about telling her that her brother is the murderer. He sets himself up to be the saviour, and pledges his love to her. If she will be with him, he can save her brother.

-Dunya tries to flee when S starts to force himself on her. She draws a pistol- which she had stolen from him when she suspected him poisoning his wife- and shoots twice, barely grazing him. He asks her to shoot him properly, but she can't, and flees.

-Svidrigailov goes to see Sonya, gives her a stack of money, and tells her that he knows everything about the murders.

-He leaves, and wanders off into the rain. He gets a room for the night, where he has nightmares. In one dream he helps a five year old girl, only for her to turn into some kind of harlot. In the dream he feels horrible about this.

-The following morning, Svidrigailov leaves, takes the gun and goes somewhere on a mission. He finds a man, and standing in front of him, puts the gun to his temple and kills himself.

Svidrigailov's Exit--

The majority of this section has followed Svid, and we have finally found out the truth about him, with the author letting us in on the characters' strange, private thought process. In some ways I found him a sadder character than Raskolnikov, and one that I could sympathise more with. It was really shocking, the way the story followed his downward spiral to suicide, and really quite moving. What made him somewhat redeeming for me, was his dream about the little girl. Even though he showed so much apathy in waking life to his lecherous ways, this dream seems to show that there was more going on deep inside him, that he did feel shame, and that he did have genuine desires to love and help in a proper way.

Like Brother like Sister?--

The episode with Dunya drawing the pistol was very surprising and suspenseful. Dunya was able to pull the trigger. Is she like her brother? there is a lot to compare and contrast. Her motives are a lot different, driven by fear, and love for her brother. Also, with the final chance to take the fatal shot at Svidrigailov, she chose not to do it. It really seemed to me like a choice, rather than that she couldn't do it. The easiest thing would have been to shoot, but she didn't. To me she is a lot stronger than her brother, though he was the one who was able to 'cross over'.

For Next Week-- Read Part 6, vii-end!

Sulking

I had this great idea of finishing all my work early, thus qualifying for an early mark.

My boss had other ideas. He sees this as an opportunity to get a headstart on next weeks' work.

Pah!

As Jesus said, don't worry about tomorrow, it can look after itself. Or something like that.

Hello Youtube...

Manga Me

Make yourself a Manga character!

Thanks Drew for this link.

I'm a sucker for dumb stuff like this (especially on fridays when I don't want to work).

Check out my cool scar..

Why God Loves Me

"The Father himself loves you because you have loved me and have believed.." (John 16:27)

I was struck by these words of Jesus this morning. He really tells it how it is here, and sums up the truth very succinctly-- the relationship we have with the Father, is made possible through, and only through relationship with the Son.

Loving and believing. Loving Jesus because He sacrificed Himself for me, allowing me to be called His brother, and His Father's son. Believing that the saving work of Jesus really did work, and that I am now forgiven and born again. Believing that there is nothing I can bring to the table, nothing I can do, because it has now been done.

Thursday Peanuts

Refresh

A generous man will prosper;
he who refreshes others will himself be refreshed.

--Proverbs 11:25

Hellboy II

Me and my mate went to see Hellboy II last night. It was a fun night, and good to catch up with my friend. To top off the night, the vindaloo, short black and baklava afterwards had no ill effects on me. I repeat, no ill effects. For me this is a completely unprecedented occurrence.

Anyways, back to the movie. It was pretty good, but as with most modern movies I come away feeling kinda disappointed. I love Hellboy, and have been a massive fan of the comic book by Mike Mignola for about ten years, so I have a lot of expectations for the movies.

What annoys me is that they over complicate everything. The story, the design, the look of everything. I love how with old black and white movies everything is so readable, and composed so nicely. Modern movies are all breakneck speed and CGI. The story seems to be not a very high priority. The comic book is a lot more like an old '30's horror movie than like this movie.

Don't get me wrong, there was lots of good stuff, and I really like Guilermo Del Torro's movies... but I just wish it could have all been pared down and simplified.

The thing with the comics, is that it is drawn so beautifully, the pacing is quite slow, and the concept is so great and interesting. It has such a cool premise that there is no need for the movies to go off on all these unnecessary tangents, when the comics give them so much good stuff to work with.

You can't get a better premise than this: The beast of the apocalypse has run away from hell, and forsaking his 'calling' has decided to do good, becoming a paranormal investigator. Gold.

Through the Curtain

One thing I would love to change about myself, is my big mouth. Actually two things-- my big mouth and my short temper. The combination of these two things working together is ugly and shameful.

This is quite a personal thing to write about, I guess, but I feel like I need to work through it in order to get on with this new day and not get too bogged down with it. Yesterday I went off at someone, quite publicly, and blurted out some rubbish that I shouldn't have. I immediately regretted it, and apologised and tried to do my best to patch up the damage.

In a sense, the case is closed and everything is fine now. It is probably almost forgotten about. But for me it lingers and plays on my mind, and gets me really down. In a lot of ways sin can be quite a private struggle, and so when those times come when your failings are suddenly thrown into the open, it can be pretty humiliating and humbling.

I guess I just need to look at where I go from here. There is nothing particularly helpful about wallowing in guilt and regret. God does not want us to hang around lamenting in our stagnant bog. That's what the devil wants. No, God wants to wash us clean and get us moving forward again as quickly as possible.

Why is it it that I'm still troubled and worried about it? I guess it's because I have cleared it up with the person, but haven't worked through it properly with God.

There is a wonderful truth about confession and repentance that I continually lose sight of. It is fast. You repent and mean it, and the sin is gone, accounted for through Jesus, taken care of. You are forgiven. There's nothing righteous about carrying around a guilt trip for weeks. All this does is keep our eyes on our self, and off the task at hand. When we repent, God takes away the burden of our sin. And He takes it far away.

As far as the east is from the west,
so far has He removed our transgressions from us. (Psalm 103:12)

How can He take it so far? How can we be seen as so flawless, when we know we are still so flawed? Because when we repent God no longer sees our unrighteous state. He now only sees the righteous state of His son, who stands in our place. Praise God for this amazing truth!

Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water.

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on towards love and good deeds. (Hebrews 10:19-24)

Discretion

Like a gold ring in a pig's snout
is a beautiful woman who shows no discretion.

--Proverbs 11:22

Australian Tonalism

I mentioned the other day that I love Australian Tonalism, a style of painting that developed under the theories of Max Meldrum (1875-1955), early last century. I thought I would try and put in to words what it is about, and show some examples.

The idea is that the basis of realistic painting is an accurate representation of light and dark in an object. So a picture can be broken up in to a set of tonal values, from darkest to lightest. If these tonal relationships are correctly represented, then the picture is successful, and the rest will be secondary, including colour, attributed meaning etc.

You can interpret the tonal values in something by squinting until your vision is blurred. Your brain is then less attuned to the distractions of detail-- "oh, that is a person, I have to pay attention to depicting the face, and that is a tree, it is therefor dark brown". The face of a person when squinted at, just becomes another tonal value, maybe darker, or maybe lighter than the tree, depending on the light source and shadows etc.

This idea was a big revelation to me, and though I am still floundering about with my painting, this is a real anchoring theory. If you get too hung up on colour ("is that water greenish blue, or bluish green?"), you can ignore the tonal value, and if you get too hung up on attributing meaning to objects (ie, spending two minutes painting a wall, but two hours trying to paint the person standing by the wall), then the picture loses life, and will not hang together very well.

Meldrum got a lot of criticism for his theories, being seen as too rigid and mechanical; closed to possibilities of colour and individual expression. Interestingly though, he considered Clarice Beckett to be his star pupil, even though she appropriated his theories and took them in a different direction.

Her paintings are full of meaning and poetry, and though they seem foggy and indecipherable, sometimes to the point of abstraction, a real heart and personality shines though, a quiet soul being passionately moved by her seemingly ordinary, humdrum surroundings. While her fellow pupils travelled overseas to paint in Paris or Rome, she stayed all her career in her home suburb, continually compelled to paint the entirely familiar, always excited by the same streets, the same telegraph poles, the same sea.


Images, top to bottom-- Max Meldrum, Colin Colahan, Percy Leason, Clarice Beckett, Clarice Beckett.

Idol

Brooke gone and Sophie still in? Fah!

Porfiry vs. Raskolnikov

I found this clip from an English production of Crime and Punishment..

ps- who knew that Porfiry was actually Emperor Palpatine? That's quite a twist, Fyodor.

All The Days Ordained For Me

'If abortion is merely about women's rights, then what were mine? There was not a radical feminist standing up and yelling about how my rights were being violated that day. In fact my life was being snuffed out- in the name of women's rights.'

Gianna Jessen is a woman who survived a saline abortion at seven months. I have been so moved by listening to her story, part one here, and part two here, which I came across throuth Sam and Soph, and Dave Miers.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,

your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
(from Psalm 139)

Integrity and Duplicity

The integrity of the upright guides them,
but the unfaithful are destroyed by their duplicity.

--Proverbs 11:3

My New Garden

My friend gave me an awesome present the other night. He and his wife have recently moved into a house, with a yard and garden, and he knows how much I love gardens and covet his!

So for my birthday he cleared a section of his garden, bought some bags of cow poo, tomato and strawberry plants, and stuck a sign into the ground that says "Macka's Market Garden". I love it!

Looking forward to getting my hands dirty.

Parenting Perils

So begins the next fun phase of parenting-- the other night I told little e not to do something and she came up to me, hugged my leg crying, and..CHOMP! Sunk her teeth in, drawing a bit of blood.

I think she needs more garlic in her diet..

My Bottom Three

-Sophie
-Thanh
-Teale

Sophie to go.

Book Group- Week Eleven (Part 6, i-iii)

Well, only two more weeks of reading, which makes this the third last Crime and Punishment post! I feel excited about it. Anyhow, to the book..

An Overview--

-Razumikhin visits. He is frustrated and disappointed with Raskolnikov, and can't understand why he has abandoned his mother and sister. We learn that he does not suspect Ras to be the murderer.

-Razumikhin tells Ras that the murderer has been found-- Mikolka the decorator, and that he was told this by Porfiry.

-Porfiry visits. A long conversation ensues, in which Porfiry takes a new and baffling tact - apologising for having suspected Ras, for the real culprit had been found. Ras can't believe this, and is sure that Porfiry knows the truth. Still, he is lulled in to a false sense of security when Porfiry then starts dropping bombs again..

-Porfiry comes right out and says it at last: "Why, you are the murderer, Rodion Romanovich!". He implores Ras to give himself up now, so as to avoid a longer sentence. Ras though completely thrown, finds some composure and admits nothing, and says that there is no real proof.

-Ras is in a hurry to find Svidrigailov to find some answers. The thought has occurred to him that Svid is trying to trap him in order to force Dunya to comply to his wishes out of concern for her brother, ie, 'you come with me or I'll tell the police your brother is a murderer.' Raskolnikov resolves to murder him if this is the case.

-Ras goes to see Svidrigailov. They talk about the situation. Ras loathes him and criticises him his lechery. He threatens to kill him if he tries to take Dunya. Svidrigailov is pretty unfazed.

Bombshell--

The biggest thing about this week's reading for me was finally hearing Porfiry come out and accuse Raskolnikov, not in a veiled way, but completely outright. i kind of wished after this though, that the noose would continue to tighten, that Porfiry would outline all the proof and haul him off to prison. But it seems there are to be a few more twists and turns yet..

Svidrigailov--

This strange character continues to baffle. I am very eager to discover what his intentions are, and how he is going to impact Raskolnikov's fate. It is pretty clear that he is villainous, and that any appearances of trying to help people is a facade.

Morals--

It is strange and jarring to still have Raskolnikov getting up in arms about Svid's lechery, as though he were in any position to judge. What are his morals? They seem incongruous - an ongoing concern about lechery, and protecting vulnerable women, and yet a lack of concern about murder! It also seems very strange to me that he doesn't at least feel more remorse and heartache about killing Lizaveta.

For Next Week-- Read Part 6, iv-vi

Was Jesus Funny?

Yep.

More Unquiet Slumbers..

Pretty much every night this week I have had weird sleep-walking night terror things, and so am feeling kind of exhausted and not particularly well rested.

It's the same old thing where I will sit up, or get out of bed, and will be in some terrifying situation, such as gripping my little girls' hand while she dangles out a window or something. E then sort of talks me awake, and I very gradually realise it is a dream.

But it is quite a stressful experience. Last night after having one, I lay awake, panting, with my heart racing loudly in my chest. I wish I could stop having them, that's for sure.

Misty Moderns

A kind reader sent me a link this morning about an exhibition currently showing in Adelaide, that will be coming to Sydney next year. I am hugely excited about it!

The exhibition is called Misty Moderns, and is about Australian Tonalism, which is my favourite kind of painting, and what I aspire to. The movement was started by a contreversial guy called Max Meldrum, and his star pupil was, you guessed it, my beloved Clarice Beckett.

Nick Carrol wrote this about the exhibition--

Sixteen works by Clarice Beckett, who died in 1935, show what a vastly underrated artist she was. There is not a brushstroke too many in any of her paintings. Her works are particularly misty. Perhaps it’s because of the wintry weather in Melbourne, where she lived, and perhaps it’s because she always painted in the early morning or late evening. But her paintings are not only misty, they are thick with an air of mystery. They get the imagination working overtime.

I am very excited!

Tea Amnesia

I have been diagnosed with Amnesiatus Bushellia, or in layman's terms, Tea Amnesia.

If I make a cup of coffee and bring it back to my desk, I remain aware of it. I sense it in my periphery, I can smell it's aroma. I am in control of the situation; I allow it to cool to the preferred temperature, and then at the appropriate time, begin to drink it.

Not so with a cup of tea. As soon as I put it down on my desk, I completely forget its existence. Any trace of it's being is erased from my memory. Even the desire for tea, or any sense of thirst suddenly disappears. The trip to the kitchen, the rummage through the biscuit jar, the smalltalk with a colleague all evaporate from memory, as a dream, as a mist dispersing in the warmth of the sun.

And then I awaken from the trance. What time is it? How many minutes have passed? Or is it hours? I'm sure I shaved this morning-- why do I suddenly have a beard? And there it stands; the untouched cup of tea. The temperature of a dead man's skin. The colour of a dead man's skin. The milk on top has sort of separated a bit. A brown ring has formed around the rim of the cup.

Oh vile, liquid, Oh poisonous brew; from what dark source hath thou flown?

Fruit Sin, Root Sin

"Legalism and moralism are always chasing fruit sin, rarely dealing with root sin, which is always a worship or idolatry issue-- meaning that all sin has under it, ultimately the worship (which is idolatrous) of someone other than Creator God, or something other than Creator God."

--Mark Driscoll

Hold Your Tongue

A man who lacks judgement derides his neighbour,
but a man of understanding holds his tongue.

--Proverbs 11:12

Book Group Two?!

I was speaking to two young scallywags (if you are younger than me, then I have the right to call you scallywag) the other night at the bible study dinner, and one asked 'how is your book group going?' He was obviously trying to start a fight, but I overlooked the offence, and forgave him.

How is book group going? Well think of it like this. It started off as the fellowship of the ring-- from the four corners of the earth I called together a host of peoples, who pledged their allegiance (eg, 'and my axe'). One by one they fell by the wayside (at least two were discovered later at The Prancing Pony), which is quite understandable considering the book 'we' chose to read.

So now, with three weeks to go, the fellowship is two. Drew and I are Frodo and Sam making our way to the eternal fires of Mount Doom, stopping only for elevensies.

However, despite my hurt thinly veiled with humour, I have no regrets or ill feelings. I like the book group because it pushed me to read something I would never have finished otherwise.

So anyways, back to the scallywags. They then tried to convince me to do Book Group Two (apparently still trying to pick a fight), saying they'd read the book but wouldn't comment on the blog. Yeah, that sounds like a great book group, fellas. They then started suggesting possible books. Scallywag #1 suggested some Helen Garner book that Scallywag #2 rightly described as sounding suspiciously like Beaches.

But what I started thinking, is that I would like to read a Christian book. I never make it through Christian books. They always seem too dense for me (or maybe vice versa..). But if I committed to posting about it each week, then I would get through it, which would be great. Even if it was just me, Frodo on a solo quest, the end result would be worth the lonely walk through Mordor. Having just discovered Mark Driscoll and John Piper, I was thinking something by one of those guys. Or maybe the book I never have gotten past chapter 2 with-- Knowing God by Jim Packer.

Thursday Peanuts

Bible Study Dinner

Last night our bible study group joined with another group (sort of like Voltron) for a bit of a relaxing dinner together at some people's house. It was really nice. Very surprisingly little e slept well in her portacot, so it was a stress-free enjoyable time for us. Great to catch up with some of the people from church who I don't get to talk to as much.

I am feeling pretty good about church at the moment, and with the efforts that people are making in Dominic's absence to pull together as a team. The lunch for 8 last Sunday, and the dinner last night were really good ways of strengthening existing friendships, and promoting new ones.

Gossip

A gossip betrays a confidence,
but a trustworthy man keeps a secret.

--Proverbs 11:13

Women Are Funny

Don't get me wrong, I know why you do it. Maybe it's a long walk to work, and your heels give you blisters. Or maybe you are popping into the gym before work.

But come on, ladies. Is this the only option? Is there no more discreet way to blend work and play?

The hair and make up is all done with painstaking precision. Black skirt, black designer coat, black stockings, and then, oh what do we have here? Boofy white tennis socks and massive, sparkly white sneakers.

Now don't get up in arms. I can sense you getting all militant on me. I am not criticising you. Think of it more as a loving rebuke. It's not that I don't like this look, I really actually do. It makes me very happy whenever I see it, and it fills me with a deep sense of joy.

But just to put it out there, could there maybe be a better alternative? A black sneaker? Maybe some tracksuit pants to make a less jarring transition between foot and torso? Find some more sensible shoes so you don't have to destroy your feet with with heels?

But, you will do what you will do, won't you.

To Hell With The Devil

How do you like your 80's Christian heavy metal? Yellow and stripey, thanks.

Lairdy apparently likes a bit of pre-breakfast Stryper-- he sent me this link at 7:25am this morning. Seriously, Lairdy, who is searching Youtube for Stryper at 7:25am?

But, come on, who said Christian music wasn't edgy? Hello, they spell their name with a Y instead of an I.. What more do you want?

Book Group- Week Ten (Part 5, iv-v)

Overview--

-Raskolnikov visits Sonya after her fathers' funeral party. He tells her that it was he who killed the pawnbroker and Lizaveta. His motives seem to be that he is longing to share some of the burden.

-Though devastated, Sonya is still full of love and compassion, and for some crazy reason pledges never to leave him. She seems to feel responsible for his salvation, and bringing him to repentance and forgiveness.

-Lebezyatnikov arrives at Sonya's apartment to tell her Katerina Ivanovna has gone insane. She has gone out wandering in the streets, to be a street musician, forcing her children to sing and dance. They go to find her.

-Katerina has lost the plot, and is making a spectacle in the streets. Her children are crying and distraught. She eventually falls, and is bleeding from the mouth with consumption.

-They take her back to Sonya's, where she finally dies.

-the peculiar Svidrigailov appears, and says that he is going give a lot of money to the children. More private philanthropy.. He then lets Raskolnikov know that he overhead everything he said to Sonya about the murders...

Katerina Ivanovna--

Gotta say I was kind of relieved when Katerina finally died. She has been a mess for the last few chapters, and to be honest I have wanted to skip through the bits about her to get back to the story. Something she said in her dying speech was pretty sad -- "A priest? There's no need.. I have no sins!...In any case, God will have to forgive me..he knows how much I've suffered! And if he won't forgive me, there's even less need!"

It was good to see her so remorseful about sending Sonya into prostitution, but I wonder then why she then sees no need for forgiveness. It seems she asks forgiveness from Sonya, but sees no need of forgiveness from God..

Svidrigailov--

I am very pleased about this strange guy bearing down on Raskolnikov like a smiling assassin. All of R's attempts to conceal, and be in control of the situation seem to suddenly fly out the window as Svid drops the bombshell that he knows everything. I am very curious about his motives in it all though.

Well, only three weeks to go!

For Next Week-- Read Part 6, i-iii

Regeneration

'I absolutely detest legalism, because it tells you that you have to do things, it doesn't tell you that you get to do things. You have to read your bible, you have to pray, you have.. NO! You also don't have to kiss your wife and take a nap-- you get to!

Too many people try not to sin. The goal is not to stop sinning, it's to start worshipping. The goal of life is not to avoid the bad things, but to be so consumed by God, that those desires and appetites are no longer strong, they're weakened.

Regeneration is that you have new desires.'

--Mark Driscoll

Tom Lee 1949-2008

Tom Lee, a man who came to our church on and off over the past couple of years died last week. I did not know him that well, but he was a close friend of a mate of mine, and I had a few good conversations with him. Very sad and surprising to find out he had died.

I am really hoping to get to his memorial service tonight.

Dread and Desire

What the wicked dreads will overtake him;
what the righteous desire will be granted.

--Proverbs 10:24

Idol

Been watching a bit of Idol.

I like Madam. Nice voice, and endearingly shy.

I like the Italian bloke with the scar on his head.

Teale has a silly name and a silly beard.

Don't like the blonde girl who pronounces everything stupidly.

Jonny, the 'dark' and 'brooding' guy is dull.

Kyle is still icky and a bit of a cretin.

Marcia saying the word 'peeps' was funny.

Patriotism

I got fed up with having hair last night, took the clippers out and lopped it all off.

This morning I put on this green and gold Australia t-shirt, and as I was travelling to work I became increasingly paranoid that people were looking at me.

Massive "AUST" emblazoned across my back. Very short hair.... oh no, maybe people are thinking I am some sort of white supremacist. Yikes, I was in the Shire on the weekend..

So I then went out of my way to look loving and tolerant for the rest of the journey. I adjusted my body language accordingly, all uncrossed arms and open palms. I then made my facial expressions all gentle and doe-eyed. My country is your country, my brothers.

I am. You are. We are.

Finals Footy

The Warriors- Storm game last night was awesome. I was soooo excited to see the Warriors, the complete underdogs, get up against the favourites. As the Tigers are nowhere to be seen, I am going to back the Warriors for the rest of the year. Go, you little Kiwis.

McDonalds Party

We went to our first McDonalds party on Saturday. It was for our little nephew. Boy o boy. Tough times, tough times. It was very different to what I had expected.

I was looking forward to the kids all siting quietly around a table, while I sat somewhere a little way away, in peace and quiet, enjoying a nice, large McValue Meal of some kind, perhaps flicking through the paper or something.

No joy. The hottest September day in the history of the world. About thirty people bundled into a solarium-like 'party room' upstairs. Tears. Screaming. Sweating. And that was just from me.

The kids all nicked off, leaving a mountain of untouched fries and nuggets. I sat watching, eagle-eyed, waiting for the other adults to look away so I could grab some of those sweet left overs without being seen, but to no avail. I nearly let shed a tear, when later I saw it all being shovelled off into the garbage.

Later, another nephew, just a toddler, escaped and ran out of the 'restaurant', and between cars in the drive- thru bit. A yell from the mother. Panic from others. In the blink of an eye while everyone else stood helpless and dumb, one man, one hungry but heroic man, in a flash was outside, and between the cars, protecting the child. With one deft movement he had stopped the traffic, and had the helpless whelp under one brave arm. He had saved his life, no question about it.

As this heroic man is also amazingly humble, he shall remained unnamed.

Casting

I get annoyed by bad casting in movies. One character is meant to be related to another character, and yet the actors look nothing alike. I happened to be painfully subjected to a chick flick the other day, and Claire Danes and Sarah Jessica Parker were supposed to be sisters. Sorry, but that's not going to work.

I spent the whole movie looking at SJP's distinctive jawline (it is very sharp, and starts way up at the bottom of her ears). Nothing like Clare Danes. Nothing like either of the parents either. Now, my point is, that may have been a fantastic movie (well, not really, but go with me here), but I was way too distracted by actor choice to follow the plot.

If I was in charge, it would all be much better. Okay, now check out this plot scenario that I have carefully crafted:

We follow the lives of a mother and daughter, the laughter and the tears, the heartache and the..um... not heartache. The mother is, say, in her fifties, and is a bit uptight and straight laced, and gets frustrated with her adult daughter, who is freewheelin', funlovin' and takes after her no-good father who walked out when she was a child.

You with me so far? Reaching for the tissues? Okay, now, out of the blue enters the mothers' estranged sister, who is even more crazy and freewheelin'. Why has she come back? Is there a sad secret to be revealed in the second half of the movie? I'd say so.

The daughter becomes close with the aunt, making the mother jealous. "Why did you come back?" "Are you trying to take my only daughter from me?" Drum roll....

"I only have three months to live"

And you know the rest.

But to get to my point, which is that I would be very awesome at casting, check out my actor choices, and be impressed and pretty much blown away:

Mother- Dianne Wiest





Daughter- Rene Zellweger





Aunt- Bette Midler





You're speechless aren't you. That's okay. Now, the movie would be called something good like The Ties That Bind, or more edgily, just Three. My personal choice though is, Three To Tango. I have mocked up a cover for you. As you can see, I am a very busy man.

Thursday Peanuts

Concealing and Spreading

He who conceals his hatred has lying lips,
and whoever spreads slander is a fool.

--Proverbs 10:18

The Whistler

The bus was quiet, everyone in their own worlds. Then a mobile ringtone rung out, breaking the silence, to the tune of Mission Impossible. Bum bum bum-bum bum bum. A few sighs as the culprit fumbled about deep in her giant handbag. A quick press of a button, and then silence once more.

And then a very soft whistled note from a man a couple of seats from me. Just a couple of odd notes here and there from the Mission Impossible theme, but barely audible. He had that tune cranking in his head, but was trying to stifle his whistle as best he could. And then silence once more.

And then, throwing all caution to the wind, he could restrain himself no more, and burst headlong into whistling the theme once again; this time out loud, and with gusto. No holds barred, and with his eyes closed so he could enjoy his own sweet music without being encumbered by the glares of his peers. What a champ.

Book Group- Week Nine (Part 5, i-iii)

Overview--

-We learn that Luzhin has been living with Lebezyatnikov, in the same appartments as Sonya and Katerina Ivanovna. Luzhin has been trying to learn from Lebez. first hand about these 'young progressives', living with him even though he despised him.

-Luzhin invites Sonya over, apparently with some crafty plan. He gives her ten roubles

-It's the day of Marmeladov's funeral banquet. Katerina Ivanovna has invited every man and his dog, and has put on a big spread, though she could not afford it apparently out of pride, to prove that she was not the same as the trash living around her.

-The banquet is a shambles, and the rabble who turn up are drunk. Raskolnikov is there, but is keeping quiet. Katerina voices to him her vandetta against the landlady, very up in arms that she looks down her nose at her. The two women argue chidishly.

-Luzhin arrives, with a 'pressing matter' to discuss. He accuses Sonya, in front of everyone, of stealing a hundred rouble note from him. All turn on Sonya, and when she is searched, the money is found in her pocket. Raskolnikov keeps quiet.

-Lebez. bursts in, and then accuses Luzhin of planting the money on Sonya, and explains to everyone how this took place. Raskonikov finally chimes in and explains the reasoning-- that Luzhin is trying to defame Sonya in order to get back at him, and to get back in favour with his sister and mother.

-A brawl nearly breaks out and Luzhin flees. Completely humiliated Sonya also flees. The landlady kicks Katerina out of the appartments.

-The chapter ends on an ominous note, Raskolnikov on his way to see Sonya says to himself "and now it's my turn! Let's see what you'll say to this!"

Backburner--

It seems strange to me that the whole murder situation has been put on the backburner. Raskolnikov was merely a quiet spectator for these three chapters. How is this all going to resolve?

'Private Philanthropy'--

This term, said by Lebezyatnikov refers to something that has popped up several times now through the book-- someone giving someone else money. There have been many instances- A woman on the street giving money to Ras, Ras leaving money for Marmeladov, Ras giving money to Katerina, Dunya sending money to Ras, and now Luzhin giving money to Sonya. What is this all about?

Lebez says he is against private philanthropy, as it is not capable of bringing about any 'radical cure'.

Motives--

I wonder if Raskolnikov would have come to Sonya's aid, if Lebez. had not spoken up first. Up to that point he had remained cold and silent, even though the crowd had turned on Sonya. To me this showed his horrible, cold, completely selfish character. It also makes me think he eventually stepped in, not out of a desire to help Sonya, but more out of a desire to put the last nails into Luzhin.

For Next Week-- Read Part Five iv-vi

The Most Vile Creature in Creation

The cockroach used to be my most loathed creature of all creation, but after the weekend, we have a new winner.

While we dressing little e we noticed something on her back. It was dark, and raised, and it was a bit red and puffy around it. E thought it was a scab, and I thought it was a splinter. We got some tweezers to pull it out, and discovered it was a small tick. You could see it's little legs.

It made me shudder, the thought off this vile thing burrowing into my little girl's back. Yuck. The following day I found another one in my thigh. Then we were all searching ourselves with paranoia, suddenly scratching at imagined itches.

Anyway hopefully there will be no side effects or anything. I looked them up on the net just now, and came to hate them even more. There were lots of pictures, but I couldn't stomach the thought of putting one on this post. They are too repugnant. I discovered they are actually arachnids rather than insects. Also, they have a 'harpoon like barb' that they attach to the 'host' while they 'feed' for 'several days'. Filthy little things.

Congo Beach

Congo Beach (2008)
Oil on Canvas

I got in a bit of painting while we were away, which felt good. It was nice to paint something a bit different, though I found the subject kind of hard. Hey ocean, can you just stay still for a sec so I can paint you? Anyway, nice just to smell the turps again, and be a bit productive.

Congo II

So we drove down in the pouring rain, leaving Sydney at 4:30am. I was proud that we stuck to our planned leaving time. It was a bit of a rough drive, 4 and a half hours through mostly rain. But once we got down to Congo the sky was a bit clearer, and we immediately fell happily into holiday mode. We were with a bunch of friends -- eleven people all up.

It was a great relaxing time, watching movies, playing board games, smoking cigars, trying to make myself like Johnnie Walker (My Father's Day present-- I told E I wanted some mandrink to put into this hip flask I was given. Tastes pretty nasty though..), walking on the beach, painting, walking in the bush, eating, playing croquet, watching Flight of The Conchords etc. Twas good.

Drove home yesterday arvo. It was a good drive. Little e is on the whole a great traveller, and hardly whinged at all. Though it was a bit sad to get back into the hubbub of Sydney annoyingness, it was nice to be home, and for it to just be the three of us again.

Congo

We had a really nice time away down the coast. It pained my heart to come back to the big smoke yesterday. It was so great to be near the sea, and near the bush, and to just hang out with the girls, and with friends. Great for little e to just run around the place, on the grass and on the beach.

Long Weekend

We are going away for a long weekend, about five hours down the coast to a place called Congo. I am picturing safari suits and lions; I better not be disappointed.

We are going with a group of friends, down to a holiday house on the beach. I am pretty excited about getting away, relaxing, being near the ocean and hopefully getting the chance to do a bit of painting. Awesome. The plan is to leave at 4:30am tomorrow morning... likely story.

Hope you all have a great weekend.

ps-Book Group peeps, I will do the post on Tuesday.

pps- Oh yeah, and guess what? The house next door to the one we are going is Flea's (Red Hot Chilli Peppers) holiday house.

The Wise In Heart

The wise in heart accepts commands,
but a chattering fool comes to ruin.

--Proverbs 10:8

Random Facts Meme

I was tagged by Ali to do this meme. I like a good meme. I'm not sure how it's meant to be pronounced, but I like to say it as 'meh-meh', in an Al Jolson voice. Try it, you'll like it. These are the rules--

1. Link to the person who tagged you
2. Post the rules on your blog
3. List 6 random facts about yourself
4. Tag 6 people at the end of your post
5. Let each person know they've been tagged by commenting on their blog
6. Let the tagger know the entry is posted on your blog

Six Random Facts About Me--

1. One of my all-time favourite foods is Jatz with a bit of butter, and a bit of Vegemite. My mouth is watering just mentioning it.

2. When I was in year 6 my next door neighbour and I went down the bush to smoke a prized cigarette that we had found. We made a little fire on top of this small cliff in order to disguise the cigarette smoke smell with regular fire smoke smell. Ingenious. When we were done we put the fire out by stamping on it and kicking the coals over the cliff. We set off back home, and when we got to the foot of my yard, we turned around towards the bush and saw a massive plume of smoke rising above the trees. And then the fire engines arrived..

3. I am pretty flexible. I can put my legs behind my head. I can also scratch my head with my foot like a dog, without using my hands. Go on, try it. You'll see it for the amazing feat that it is.

4. I love cats. I have learnt to vaguely tolerate dogs. I can not at all tolerate dog- people though. The way they talk to their dog like it's a baby makes me feel violent. The term 'doggie -daycare' makes me want to bring those violent feelings to fruition.

5. One side of my face is much handsomer than the other side. My crooked nose looks better from that side, the sideburn is a better shape, the ear is more rounded. The other side is like the ugly cousin of the good side.

6. I can't stand the sound/ feeling/ sensation of a cotton ball being squeezed between my finger tips. That quiet, scrinchy, silky feeling is like nails down a blackboard for me. Shudder.

Hmm. Now the tagging bit (the hard bit where you have to pretend you have all these countless friends). I tag Drew, Aimee, Kristina and Lu.

Thursday Peanuts

Teenage Girls

I was sitting on the Town Hall steps yesterday afternoon, waiting for a friend, when a group of teenage girls stumbled along. They were about fourteen, I guess, and were dressed pretty regularly. Pink slip on shoes. Roxy jumpers. Silly looking jeans. Fairly run of the mill. They looked like they would still have a bunch of teddy bears sitting on their beds, and have the same cutesy curtains on their bedroom windows that they've had since childhood. They would probably have something like 'I luv Ryan, True luv 4eva' scratched into their desks somewhere.

But their behaviour was completely at odds with how they looked. Think of the most sweary word you can-- that's what they were calling each other every two seconds. They were pushing each other around, and screaming at each other, right into each other's faces. It was hard to know if they were joking, or if they were about to have a scrap. They were all staggering about, and smoking, and carrying on like galahs.

I watched one girl scream at her 'friend' and then go off by herself in a huff. She then took out of her handbag one of those silver bags that cask wine comes in-- what we used to call 'goon'. And she sat down on the ground, with a sour little expression on her face and proceeded to drink the 'goon', straight from the source.

The way she was slurping away, all cranky and messy, reminded me straight away of some sulky little toddler, festering in their dirty nappy, sucking on their bottle and chucking a tanty. And I realised with an epiphany what the problem was here.

Someone had accidentally pressed chapter skip on these girls. They had gone suddenly from three year olds, to fourteen year olds, without warning, and nobody had shown them how to behave in those years they had skipped. Though they were in such a hurry to grow up, they had remained babies.

I then had two thoughts shoot through my brain in quick succession, one of great relief, and one that sent a chill of terror through me. The first was a great sigh of relief to think, thank goodness those gnarly teenage years are behind me. And the second was, oh man-- I have a daughter..