My nephew's computer is extremely aggravating because it's infected with all kinds of nasty things - spyware, and the like. And all of a sudden nasty images pop up that even a curious 13-year-old shouldn't have to confront. But the state of his computer makes me think that the saturation of all personal computing with commercial spy and advertising programs will be through teenagers, and then the legislation that will be enacted, making it a capital offense to remove the programs, or to hack commercial sites, will be enforced on their parents.
That's my dystopic thought for today.
I'm in limbo at the moment, because even though it's a great pleasure to visit my brother Paul and his lovely family, I don't really know when I'll get back to see my mum, because her treatment has been postponed by thrombosis, which forced her into hospital, as a precaution, over the weekend. Now she may not resume her chemo until two weeks from tomorrow, which will be almost the time I'm booked to return to the US. To make matters more confusing, the doctors are not at all forthcoming about the course of treatment, nor the likely prognosis as it proceeds.
While I'm circling here, I can be working, but so far that has proceeded indifferently. I have finished a couple of articles, but I have several more half-done, and I interviewed two interesting Melburnians the other day who have made a non-fiction film about Heidegger and the problem of determining when or whether evil infects philosophy, and other related questions. I could set out and wander about in my dad's car, taking in the scenery and working here and there - sitting on the beach, perhaps. But that has its limitations, and is rather a lonely business, particularly for someone with little social reach.
Last night was the final of Australian Idol, which is worth mentioning only because it is a huge event down here. The final was a 3.5-hour extravaganza at the Sydney Opera House, with satellite events in the 2 final finalists' home towns. The winner was a rather rotund 16-year-old young woman from a poor suburb of Sydney. Her gathered friends were an interesting mix of white and aboriginal. Nice to see, and it's pleasing to imagine that Australian tv watchers voted for her over the anodyne, diminutive music teacher from Melbourne. The show is, generally, just as plastic as the American version, but it's interesting just because it plays out very differently in public. The final, live episode was extensively reported in all the papers today - on the front pages, too.
For some reason, I'm beginning to slip into a downward slide, mood-wise, which may stem from being away from my friends and habitual, secure surroundings, or maybe it's just a function of being here in limbo. I fit here, a little, but more obviously I'm superfluous. People are pleasant here, but, as anywhere, they have their daily, even mundane lives to occupy them, and I'm left a little in the lurch. Perhaps the east coast isn't such a bad idea. But being alone, out there even more than here, leaves me very vulnerable to eating terribly -- reverting to 14-year-old anxious, needy eating, whole packets of chocolate biscuits at a time. There certainly are some beauties here. And cake shops on every block.
Fortunately I'm keeping up the swimming, doing 600-1000 meters a day, although not exactly all at once. I drag from one end to the other of the 50-meter pool. Fortunately, today I located an outdoor, heated one, so I don't have to be the only person brave enough to enter the outdoor, unheated one just near my brother's place. It's bearable after the first 30 seconds of near-hypothermia, but those initial moments are quite agonizing. The water has been about 60-63 degrees, which it often used to be when we were kids at the Manuka Pool in Canberra. A lifeguard at the unheated pool yesterday, who was outside on behalf of yours truly, alone, was msot impressed that I'd been in three days in a row, literally the only person to enter it on two of those days. "Good on'ya," she exclaimed.
I'm reminded, being here, that I'm an exceedingly single person. How exactly that has happened, and how that state has filled most of my adult life, and the years before then, too, for that matter, is worth considering. Actually, I have considered it, long and hard, both alone, in relative confusion, and through guided counseling, where some clarity has emerged, but no actual, tangible results. It's not a state to esteem, although many encoupled people seem to think it must be a life of Reilly, free of the pestering of partners. Little do they know how lucky they are, or at least may be.
Nothing new there.
People keep asking me how things are in the US, and then often they imagine out loud that, well, they're probably just as bad as they are here, now that the Liberal-National coalition has up to another 3 years of rule, after 8 already. No, I say, they aren't as bad as here; they're about 20 times worse. Even that might underestimate it. Here things are bleak. The conservatives are finding plenty of opportunity to be smug, and to lie through their teeth about their agenda, trumpeting how beneficial it will be for all Australians, when in reality they're shaping up to be complete arseholes. Nothing new there, either.
That's my dystopic thought for today.
I'm in limbo at the moment, because even though it's a great pleasure to visit my brother Paul and his lovely family, I don't really know when I'll get back to see my mum, because her treatment has been postponed by thrombosis, which forced her into hospital, as a precaution, over the weekend. Now she may not resume her chemo until two weeks from tomorrow, which will be almost the time I'm booked to return to the US. To make matters more confusing, the doctors are not at all forthcoming about the course of treatment, nor the likely prognosis as it proceeds.
While I'm circling here, I can be working, but so far that has proceeded indifferently. I have finished a couple of articles, but I have several more half-done, and I interviewed two interesting Melburnians the other day who have made a non-fiction film about Heidegger and the problem of determining when or whether evil infects philosophy, and other related questions. I could set out and wander about in my dad's car, taking in the scenery and working here and there - sitting on the beach, perhaps. But that has its limitations, and is rather a lonely business, particularly for someone with little social reach.
Last night was the final of Australian Idol, which is worth mentioning only because it is a huge event down here. The final was a 3.5-hour extravaganza at the Sydney Opera House, with satellite events in the 2 final finalists' home towns. The winner was a rather rotund 16-year-old young woman from a poor suburb of Sydney. Her gathered friends were an interesting mix of white and aboriginal. Nice to see, and it's pleasing to imagine that Australian tv watchers voted for her over the anodyne, diminutive music teacher from Melbourne. The show is, generally, just as plastic as the American version, but it's interesting just because it plays out very differently in public. The final, live episode was extensively reported in all the papers today - on the front pages, too.
For some reason, I'm beginning to slip into a downward slide, mood-wise, which may stem from being away from my friends and habitual, secure surroundings, or maybe it's just a function of being here in limbo. I fit here, a little, but more obviously I'm superfluous. People are pleasant here, but, as anywhere, they have their daily, even mundane lives to occupy them, and I'm left a little in the lurch. Perhaps the east coast isn't such a bad idea. But being alone, out there even more than here, leaves me very vulnerable to eating terribly -- reverting to 14-year-old anxious, needy eating, whole packets of chocolate biscuits at a time. There certainly are some beauties here. And cake shops on every block.
Fortunately I'm keeping up the swimming, doing 600-1000 meters a day, although not exactly all at once. I drag from one end to the other of the 50-meter pool. Fortunately, today I located an outdoor, heated one, so I don't have to be the only person brave enough to enter the outdoor, unheated one just near my brother's place. It's bearable after the first 30 seconds of near-hypothermia, but those initial moments are quite agonizing. The water has been about 60-63 degrees, which it often used to be when we were kids at the Manuka Pool in Canberra. A lifeguard at the unheated pool yesterday, who was outside on behalf of yours truly, alone, was msot impressed that I'd been in three days in a row, literally the only person to enter it on two of those days. "Good on'ya," she exclaimed.
I'm reminded, being here, that I'm an exceedingly single person. How exactly that has happened, and how that state has filled most of my adult life, and the years before then, too, for that matter, is worth considering. Actually, I have considered it, long and hard, both alone, in relative confusion, and through guided counseling, where some clarity has emerged, but no actual, tangible results. It's not a state to esteem, although many encoupled people seem to think it must be a life of Reilly, free of the pestering of partners. Little do they know how lucky they are, or at least may be.
Nothing new there.
People keep asking me how things are in the US, and then often they imagine out loud that, well, they're probably just as bad as they are here, now that the Liberal-National coalition has up to another 3 years of rule, after 8 already. No, I say, they aren't as bad as here; they're about 20 times worse. Even that might underestimate it. Here things are bleak. The conservatives are finding plenty of opportunity to be smug, and to lie through their teeth about their agenda, trumpeting how beneficial it will be for all Australians, when in reality they're shaping up to be complete arseholes. Nothing new there, either.
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