Bite My Latte

Natal Feliz

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 12:49:00 +0000

Yes, it's that time of year when I offer BmL readers a hearfelt awkward blokey handshake/forced backslap/ "how about them [insert sports team]" combo.

Which is about as warm as it gets in the highly competitive and ever-so-slightly Aspergic Portuguese Forts in Asia scene.

As you know, we aim to make your blogging experience every bit as comfortable as meeting your new dad-in-law at the Cronulla RSL.

But seriously: Natal Feliz.

May all your forts be Luso-Asian.

The Parting Glass: Vale Liam Clancy

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 12:04:00 +0000

Sad news from Ireland that Liam Clancy, of the Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem, has died. They made Irish music roll like no-one before or since, and Liam was their mainstay. Bob Dylan was a huge fan, and said of Liam “I never heard a singer as good as him ever. He was just the best ballad singer I ever heard in my life, still is probably.” Those who saw the Scorcese doco on Dylan will have seen him recalling Liam Clancy's exhortation to the young singer, then starting out in Greenwich Village: "No fear, no malice, no envy".

Great advice. (Not that Bob followed it.)

In any case, my old man played the Clancy Brothers over and over through my childhood, and I grew to love their rollicking, twee-free, passionate sound - and also the native wit and literary sensibility of their stage humour between tracks on the live albums. And at the old man's funeral, at his oft-repeated request,were sung Shoals of Herring and Fields of Athenry. The Liam Clancy versions.

And so, a parting glass, to the magnificent Liam Clancy. Slán agus beannacht leat.

Oh, all the comrades e'er I had,
They're sorry for my going away,
And all the sweethearts e'er I had,
They'd wish me one more day to stay,
But since it falls unto my lot,
That I should rise and you should not,
I gently rise and softly call,
Good night and joy be with you all.

Sir Henry Casingbroke on Wake in Fright (1971)

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 12:38:00 +0000

Well, its Wake in Fright revival week here at BmL! Larvatus Prodeo regulars will no doubt be familiar with frequent contributor Sir Henry Casingbroke. His comment on my previous post was such an interesting reflection - not only on the film, but also on the outback 1960s/70s Australia it dissects - that I went ahead and got his ok to do it up as a guest post: the very first here at Chez Fortaleza! And if you're among (the happy few) to have been following recent posts on 70s Ozfilm, you'll already know Sir Henry had a minor speak role in an earlier film of Michael Thornhill's - director of The FJ Holden. Hat tip also to Sir H for linking to this marvellous review of Wake in Fright by Kate Jennings.

Sir Henry writes:

Wake in Fright is magic realism. Wake in Fright's central idea is that in certain parts of Australia (and surely elsewhere), away from cities, there can be a "magnetic" metaphysical anomaly that keeps people tethered in place is spite of a lot of good reasons why they should leave - inexplicably they can't, hence the nightmare.

The longer you stay there the more difficult it is to escape this gravitational pull, and soon, like Doc, you look back on a weirdly wasted lifetime. This becomes the in-joke of The Yabba where Wake in Fright takes place.

I spent 1969 in a mining camp just south of Darwin near Pine Creek and what happened to me was similar, including the spotlight shoot.

When I first arrived in the Top End people asked me how long I was staying - this was trick question - I said: until the Wet, it would be about 9 months; I was there to get a quick quid and get out. They looked at each other winked and laughed. Everyone arrived there just for a few months and end up staying 20 years.

The metaphysical reality layer superimposed on mundane reality (nothing is quite what it seems) brings with it the temptation to step away from normally accepted social mores.

In 1970 Australia was still rather Victorian in its outlook on the surface. But the more pissed you got, the wider the two realities moved apart. All sorts of things could be countenanced, including murder (if it was deserved), hence, out there another set of moral and legal rules kicked in. Hence the ambiguous and ambivalent character of the police sergeant played by Rafferty. Rafferty the actor no doubt perfectly well understood the metaphysical reality, as many Australians in the outback experienced it themselves as I did.

Films made around then dealt with that metaphysical duality were: Cars That Ate Paris, Homesdale, Picnic at Hanging Rock, and The Last Wave, probably others.

This other world is now much submerged and a lot of people do not understand what is being discussed in Wake in Fright. Therefore they waffle on, not being aware that it is a documentary. And not seeing why a lot of Australians found the film uncomfortable at the time - they knew what it revealed and they wished it was kept under wraps, especially to outsiders.

Wake in Fright (1971)

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 13:04:00 +0000

Since I was a kid I've had a recurring dream of being on a beach, in light so bright I can barely open my eyes to see. This newly released on DVD classic of Australian cinema somehow captures that feeling - everything is yellow, red, light disturbs the characters, scrutinising their dark, more brutal sides. I've waited years to see Ted Kotcheff's film, and finally tracked it down on DVD. No lesser figures than Peter Weir, Bruce Beresford and Fred Schepisi regard Wake in Fright as the film that sparked the 1970s reniassance in Australian film making. The Cannes Film Festival has only ever screened two films twice: Antonioni's L'Avventura, and Kotcheff's Wake in Fright.

Though a critical success, it was apparently met by ambivalent public acclaim in Australia, with some audiences taking it all too personally, and a general feeling of "this isn't us". It certainly shines a light on male-dominated frontier towns of rural Australia - where men outnumber women and the stranger creates a rip in the fabric.

The performances are outstanding: as one critic rightly put it, Chips Rafferty as the local cop - in his final screen role before his death in 1971 - "exudes an unnerving intensity with a deceptively menacing and disturbing performance that ranks among the best of his career." Donald Pleasance is brilliant as an alcoholic doctor - and also claims my "best Australian accent by a foreign actor" award. Jack Thompson, Gary Bond and John Meillon round out the Australian all-star cast. This one will stay with me for a while. Would love to see it on the big screen.

Australian Screen Online

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 12:50:00 +0000

You know, the Australian Screen Online site really is ace. Loads of great clips you can check - from all eras. And you can search via film type, decade, or by title. See the short hand-cranked Lumiere Cinematographe clips of Queen St Brisbane in 1899, or Kanakas working on the cane fields of North Qld, or the 1896 Melbourne Cup.

Or check the later clips of hard to find Australian cinema classics like Wake in Fright (1971). I could be lost in here for days. Send cheezels and jaffas!

Our Lady of Prosciutto

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 11:53:00 +0000

Pure Shit (1975)

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 12:34:00 +0000

Well let's face it, who isn't a little curious to see this film - banned then abandoned for a generation - about Carlton junkies in the mid-70s? Raided by vice-squad at its own premiere, this little underground film stayed that way longer than Ramos-Horta lived in hotel rooms. Its got it all: gritty intravenous realism, chase scenes, chemist break-ins, and excellent pre-fame cameos from Greig Pickhaver and Max Gillies. For all that, the scene-stealer is actually Helen Garner's hilarious appearance as a speed-addict, with advanced psychosis of the obsessive cleaning variety. There's even a social commentary poke at the earliest manifestations of the methadone program.

Australian 70s cinema. When will it be matched, let alone topped? I'm not holding my breath.

See the DVD trailer here.

Carpe pm: seize the afternoon

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 12:57:00 +0000

Yes, if I can't sleep in, it ain't my revolution! etc. I don't know about you, but early's never been my scene. Indeed, I was just recalling the other day, when I was younger, in me carefree 20s with fewer responsibilities to other humans, my normal hours of sleep were 4am to 12pm.

Time and circumstance has modified all that, of course; now its 2am to 8.30am. Cutting back on sleep hasn't really led to any productivity gains though - I rarely have a sentient thought before 10am. My brain still gets 8 hours, though the body has learned sleep-dressing and transport management.

I can't really help it, and to be honest, I don't want to change. These hours of solitude and focus have been the most productive of my life. I reckon I wrote most of my PhD between 10pm and 1am. I guess I'd like to know there are others out there still staying up, despite careers and so on. Perhaps well into middle age!

For example, I suspect my men HET here, princes of Dutch 60s freakbeat, still kick it late*. Now that semester two is nearly done I'm hoping to be back here (at Fort Segue) more often. Check it out!

* Hat tip to my bro, aka The World of Yentl, for putting me on to this ace track.

Blog Action Day: 350.org

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 00:40:00 +0000

So, I got an email this morning from 350.org saying its blog action day today. So this is the least I could do. (And never let it be said I didn't do the least I could do).

As you may know, BmL is a big supporter of the idea of direct citizen action on global warming. Leaving it all to governments is a dead-end street.

To that end, we here at BmL are sending a smoke signal to all coastal fortalezas in the greater Solor/ Larantuka region that October 24 is the International Day of Climate Action.

You can check local events in your area through this handy widget, which will hopefully embed below. There's a whole bunch of useful info here on why 350ppm is such an important goal.

Águas de Março

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 14:07:00 +0000

Yes, rockin' the fortaleza with Sealab's version of Jobim's classic Águas de Março. Hilarious clip! Great song too. In fact, it was once voted the best Brazilian song of all time by, like, Brazilians.
É pau, é pedra, é o fim do caminho...

Municipal Solar?

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 10:21:00 +0000

Ok, now let me run this scheme up the commentary pole and see who cheers (or jeers...)!

I've argued over at LP for a while that councils should look at developing municipal solar energy. That is, use the greater scale of council buildings, vacant property (and rates) to generate larger-scale solar power and feed it in to the grid at local area level. This would offer clear economies of scale in greenhouse abatement - that households can't hope to achieve - and produce larger volumes of power per dollar. Equally (by reducing net consumption of non-renewable energy across the municipal area) it would financially benefit all (both ratepayer-owners and tenants) by reducing household power bills in the mid to long-term. Households would receive the generated power as 'pre-paid' solar, at no further cost.

Households with private solar would get a double benefit, the rest would benefit by the effective socialisation of solar at the council area level. Perhaps they also could cut deals with state governments for the use of vacant Crown land.

Essentially, its a variant on the old school municipal socialism idea: in Britain in the late 19th and early 20th century councils were in the front line of creating public ownership of tramways, gas, waterworks and other utilities, using their greater collective buying power.

Fathers & Daughters

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 12:47:00 +0000

So, I was chatting with my bro (in the normal, non-NZ sense) today, who is recently the father of a baby girl, and has a son a fair bit older. We were watching my daughter play, and I was talking about the relative lack of weight of expectation on father/ daughter relationships. When I'd raised the same theme at other times - prior to his daughters birth - it didn't seem to ring any bells for him - but today it did.

Of the four parent/ child combos, it really is the one least dwelt on by popular culture, psychology, home spun theory and general folk wisdom of the ages. And in my experience, that's been the great thing about it. Makes it a lot easier.

Of course, it's a relationship that can be majorly screwed up, like any other, sometimes in utterly horrific ways - but aside from those awful cases, there aren't a lot of negative stereotypes attached to it. 'Daddy's girl', for example, is fairly neutral where 'Mummy's boy' most certainly isn't. Then there's the inherent role-modelling pressure of of father-son, mother-daughter relationships; so frequently subject to the 'individualise-via-conflict' vibe, sooner or later. And no offence, Mums, but in my experience there's virtually no limit to the matters affecting a boy's life that his mother won't feel absolutely entitled to dip her oar in the water about. Even well into his 30s*. Bless 'em.

Whereas there's just no point even asking Dad about tricky girl-to-woman stuff. He won't have a clue. And most importantly: that's understood - by both parties.

Nothing to offer but love.

I hope no one gets offended by the above. But I write here in defence of father-daughter relationship. Against its broad cultural neglect. It rules.

* There is a some possibility the author generalises unduly from personal experience here.

Can't think of a new post...

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 01:45:00 +0000

...cos I blew all my good material on facebook. But in the most lame-ass of comedic traditions, let us now ask "so....what's with that??".

I guess its a bit like fast-food, or 20-20 cricket. An instant gratification pigout that leaves you belching, bloated, yet ultimately dissatisfied. Not that blogging is exactly the French slow-food movement - but I do find that ideas I might previously have turned into blog posts (and thus subjected to a more sustained reflection in blog comments) now get frittered away on a quick farcebook update.

Which incidentally, I now refer to as 'Slide Night'. My theory is that farcebook is - in effect - a high-tech socially acceptable version of boring your friends senseless with pics of what you did on yer holidays. Except that they don't HAVE to look at them. In that sense, it fits neatly with shallow neo-liberal consumerist notions of 'choice' and 'liberty': it's all complete rubbish, but you get to choose which sandwich de merde is pret-a-porter.

Or am I reading too much into it? I've never Twittered. I can only imagine that's worse.

CO2 Counter

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 13:47:00 +0000

So, I added a CO2 counter to the sidebar, which measure parts per million. Just to depress myself on a daily basis. Apparently 350ppm is considered the upper level of sane by most scientists. Oh look, its already 386. Naturally, we in Ostraya are basing current policy settings on a putative global aim of restricting it to 450ppm, which is totally effing visionary etc, except that it more or less guarantees disastrous climate change.

I need some good news on climate folks. Give me hope!

10 years after the referendum in East Timor

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 03:31:00 +0000

30 August is a good day for Australians to remember that the so-called 'realists' in Canberra got it wrong for 24 years. I'm pretty sure a whole lot of them still think 'well, our strategic priorities just changed pre and post 1999, the cold war was over, and who saw that the New Order regime would collapse?'. I'm pretty sure they also think 'teh Left' were just a bunch of unrealistic and idealist whingers who accidentally got something right for once.

Au contraire. Along with saying the occupation was wrong, and a human rights disaster, the East Timor solidarity movements were also pointing to a critical empirical factor: Indonesia was not likely to succeed. How could a forced integration - with no basis in international law, unrecognised by any other state, with no respect for human rights, and implacably opposed by a nation of people - succeed in the long run? Its like the inevitability of a Palestinian state. Power cannot operate without legitimacy forever. Foreign policy 'realism' does not equate to pragmatism, how ever much the back-slapping defence and security circle-jerkers might fancy it does.

The major parties in this country were frankly out of touch with reality. They appeared to believe that just because it suited our imagined strategic priorities, a military occupation that could not even establish a monopoly of force after 24 years was some stable 'fact on the ground', that we all just had to live with. Let history record that the Australian people saw through it all first, and the 'experts' in Canberra followed.

I hope the lesson is not lost. Justice matters in international affairs. Foreign policy 'realism' does not make you realistic.

Abigail's Party (1977)

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 04:44:00 +0000

Its no surprise to me that Mike Leigh's early film for TV Abigail's Party (1977) was rated 11th in the 100 Greatest British Television Programmes. I saw it recently, and it truly is a magnificent precursor to that excruciating but hilarious genre (self-important-type-makes-constant-arse-of-self-in-public) that later spawned classics like The Office.

I also think its a toss-up as to whether Prunella Scales of Fawlty Towers or Alison Steadman's potrayal of Beverly is the origin of that classic UK aspirational lower middle-class female character that ends every sentence on a patronising "okaayyyy?".

In any case, I can only agree with the Channel 4 reviewer who said that Abigail's Party "still ranks as the most painful hundred minutes in British comedy-drama." Its compelling, peek-through-your-fingers-while-you-cringe viewing. Also interesting are the class dynamics between the five characters, flung together by post-1960s suburbanism and Britain's rising lower middle class.

100th Post Commemorative Yabber

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 13:03:00 +0000

You know, when first my Caravel navigated these bloggy waters, armed with nothing but an Astrolabe, orders from the Leal Senado in Macau, and a rough Portolan of the last known voyage of Eredia (handed me by a marooned Marineiro in Solor), it was impossible to tell what adventures might lay at the end of the cartographer's wind-rose.

So many forts in Asia, so many lattes, and so many forts in Asia later, and... sadly... os meus amigos, its time to hang up ye old blogging mouse, and sail into the unknown waters of Luca Antara.

Hoho, just kidding! What a classic blog cliche, the threatened departure! As if. You and I both know the Portuguese forts in Asia scene has never been hotter. And I didn't come this far to yield the parapets and hoist my lateen sail for Lisbon, just because of some pesky lack of widespread interest in my deliberately obscure blog. You didn't see the Forte São João Baptista administrators abandon their post, just because they controlled less than 100 sq foot of territory, and no one sent them a letter for 200 odd years, did you?

No, and likewise, we're made of sterner stuff here at BmL.

Instead, let's dwell briefly on life as a small blog. Here's some random stats, in lieu on any actual desire on my part to analyse it properly.

Days since first post: 588. That's a post every 6 days. So don't tell me I never get ya nuthin!
Number of visitors: 4279. That's a massive average 7.3 per day! Those stats don't include me either - only genuine vistors. Somebody call google ads, we've got a live one!
Number of comments: 460. Subtracting the 40% that are mine (which is how it tends to go) that's a monster 2.7 punter comments per post. Mother, hire a letter-opener!
Record number of post comments: 24. Twice! Renegotiate the 1856 border, Capitão, this enclave ain't big enough!
Number of CPLP Countries on my counter: 4 full members (Portugal, Brazil, Mozambique, East Timor); 1 associate member (Macau); and 1 associate observer (Senegal).

Aos novos fortalezas! Até a vitória sempre!

Man, 41, seeks new word for partner

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 10:32:00 +0000

I don't know about you, but I reckon its high time we thought of a better word for one's main squeeze, when you aren't the marrying kind.

Now, if you're married, no problemo. 'Husband' and 'wife' are fine old terms if you ask me. Stood the test of time.

But for those of us who aren't into marriage (and let's face it, that's now a bunch of us - possibly a working majority for all I know) the options are poor.

I'm sorry, but I find the contemporary frontrunner 'partner' so completely lameass, I cringe every time I even think of it.

'Howdy, partner! Soooo-eeee!'

'Defacto' tends to run in second, but that sounds like you're making do until something better and more formal comes along; presumably a de jure occupant of your bed.

Recently, I've gone back to 'girlfriend', after dropping it some time back in the early 90s. Its mainly for a laugh, in explicit rejection of you-know-what, but secretly, I quite like it. It makes me feel youthful as well, and has done wonders for my complexion.

But really, I can't keep trotting that out for the mother of my child.

....OR CAN I??!!!

Alternatives welcome.

Roger East's Final Communique from Dili, December 1975

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Sun, 02 Aug 2009 13:07:00 +0000

I saw Robert Connolly's film Balibo last Monday at the Melbourne International Film Festival. Its a magnificent work of Australian cinema - the best I have seen in many years. Both historically sound (respected East Timor academic and justice campaigner Clinton Fernandes was the historical consultant) and dramatically set at perfect pitch. The treatment is neither overplayed nor overwrought, the dialogue remains tight and realistic throughout. As a result, the impact of the dramatic climax stays with you long after the film.

As readers of this blog might recall, I once visited Balibo, and its a beautiful, quiet town on a mountain, with a long view down to the border between Batugade and Indonesian Mota'ain. The Balibo House Trust - funded by the Victorian Government - now owns he Chinese house and runs it as a community learning centre. Also involved are the Australian Friendship Group, the Friends of Balibo.

I reproduce here Roger East's final communique from Dili in December 1975. He was murdered on the Pertamina Wharf in Dili - along with scores of East Timorese independence leaders and supporters, including Nicolau Lobato's wife - by invading Indonesian forces on December 7, 1975.

Australia's nearest neighbour, tiny East Timor, has cast the die. It's 'Independence or Death', a western cliche, but here a daily salutation - and the Timorese people mean it.

The mortar that binds the East Timorese is the thoughts of Independence after 400 years of colonial rule. They will settle for nothing less.

Fretilin's army is basically anti-colonial, strongly Catholic-tinted and, not surprisingly, has many vehement anti-Communists in its midst.

Djakarta has elected to win support from its nervous neighbours by attaching the Red label to Fretilin.

However, Fretilin's initial planning is a blending of socialistic and cooperative policies which would appear natural for a colony bereft of secondary industry and winning only a subsistence existence from the soil.

Membership of Fretilin by Australian standards would include thinkers from the centre to the extreme left - the latter in a fringe grouping in the Central Committee.

Secretary of the East Timor Department of Foreign Affairs, Jose Ramos Horta, admits the committee's views vary on many issues, the sole exception being independence.

"I expect to see a multi-party set up in East Timor after we cross the present hurdle.

"We are a tolerant people who have waited a long time for the democratic process. We'll share it when it comes."

Fretilin believes the Governor, Colonel Lemos Pires, now living on the Island of Atauro, the St Helens of his choice, aided and abetted the UDT to stage its ill-fated August coup.

Fretilin had been told of the coup plot and a request to the governor to disarm the plotters is said to have been turned down.

Fretilin was defenceless when the fighting started and its members hounded, jailed and some murdered. UDT lost when the Portuguese-trained soldiers defected in favour of Fretilin.

UDT's leadership is now split three ways. Some are languishing in Timorese jails and others in the more comfortable surrounds of Australian cities.

The remaining standard bearers are in Indonesia, hosted and promised a triumphant return, albeit in the wake of mortar bombs.

Their platform of independence, which over a year ago saw them in a political alliance with Fretilin, is now abandoned. They are opting for Indonesia after 450 years of Portuguese domination.

Apodeti, the party pressing for union with Indonesia, is a bad bar-room joke. Its political rallies could be staged in the proverbial ten by four room which includes a table.

Founder and President, Arnold Araujo, 62, a respected horse thief, is currently being detained at Fretilin's pleasure.

The Portuguese jailed him for nine years for war crimes committed against the Timorese during the Japanese occupation.

This leaves only Fretilin which wants to embrace an offer of a United Nations supervised plebiscite.

East Timor's problems grow daily. Its primary ricebowl in the Maliana Valley is now a battlefield. Other crops have been destroyed or neglected in the turmoil of the fighting. Hunger is a reality and starvation a growing threat.

Pijin blong Solomon

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 06:56:00 +0000

Here's a few pics of signs and ads in the national language of Solomon Islands Pijin. I must confess I didn't pick up very much after one week in Honiara - only Lukim yu (see you later) and Tanggio tumas (thanks very much). Oh, and Solomon Islanders say "set" a lot - to indicate that everything is good or fine.

I'm told that Solomons Pijin, Tok Pisin of PNG and Bislama of Vanuatu are all mutually intelligible - effectively creating a pan-Melanesian lingua franca.

Oh, and mind where you chew your betelnut, tanggio tumas.

Back at Work

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 05:15:00 +0000

And can't be arsed!

I've had a great couple of weeks in the Asia-Pacific region on various work missions, followed by a short holiday in Rio de Brisbaneiro - which was just long enough to get the flu, basically.

Back at work now, and not doing a very good job of impersonating someone who cares about semester two, and its looming deadlines. Sniffle. Groan.

I guess I'll sleep my way out of this slump over the coming days. Any tips on how to appear engaged?

Anyway - check it out! On my spare day, I snorkeled on this wrecked WW2 Japanese landing craft at Ironbottom Sound near Honiara, Guadalcanal, in the Solomon Islands. Full of coral, rainbow fish, and the rusting detritus of Imperial visions.

Ironbottom Sound, as you may know, is so named after the sheer number of US, Japanese (and one Australian) vessels sunk there in the Battle of Guadalcanal in 1942 - widely regarded a major turning point in the Pacific War, and the first major allied victory over the Japanese. There's an impressive US memorial on the hill above Honiara, which commemorates the major sea and land battle to capture Henderson airport and other Japanese-held areas of Guadalcanal.

Auto-reply: Out of Office

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 22:07:00 +0000

BmL is currently out of the office, and at large in the region. Any urgent matters can be raised via the fort-gate comments & suggestions box, below, and will be attended to by a special intergovernmental taskforce, in due season.

New Favourite Blog!

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 12:17:00 +0000

Here at BmL, we're having a party! Inviting all our friend!
(We've only one, but she's a larf, she lets us all attend).

Namely, our new favourite blog: Strange Maps. Check out this marvellous specimen of Salazarist craziness, for starters.

And while you're at it, ooh, its the E-cyclopedia of Portuguese Expansion.

(Don't wait up honey, I may be some time.)

Head waggling at Reis Magos

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Sun, 14 Jun 2009 08:51:00 +0000

Its been too long between forts, O meu Capitão! Hove the lateen sail and noon-point the sextant for the latitude of Reis Magos. First built in the late 1500s, this fort swathed in wild forest overlooks the Mandovi river and the lovely town of Panjim, former capital of the (rather ostentatiously named, given its size) Portuguese Estado da India - now capital of Goa state, India.

Reis Magos (the 'Three Wise Men' in Portuguese) is a small village across the river, consisting of a Church, a small village, and this very old fort which once guarded entry to the capital.

The main thing I recall about it - aside from the pearler of a view - was my arrival inside the walls, after climbing the steep, crumbling stairs. Two local guys were sunning themselves, half asleep, and we all surprised each other at awkwardly close proximity. The thought pattern at that instant was probably much like this:

Me: Shit - two men, isolated spot. Are we friendly?
Them: Shit - look at the size of that Gora. Is he friendly?

It was then that I recalled a favourite passage of Gregory David Roberts' Shantaram, which I was then reading. In it he explains that the classic Indian side to side 'head-waggle' (for want of a better term) is in fact a gesture of general affability and friendliness. So I tried it on. And blimey, it worked! They both relaxed visibly, and one said "hello - you seem nice!".

Aside from the cross-cultural gesture awareness breakthroughs, it was a great fort too! Some classic cornice sentry boxes, as you'll see. If you're ever in the area, I'd recommend the semi-hidden Reis Magos over the larger and better known Fort Aguada nearby.

'I gits a stretch fer stoushing Johns' - The Sentimental Bloke (1919)

lefty_e@yahoo.com.au (Lefty E) — Sat, 06 Jun 2009 13:35:00 +0000

I've just seen the DVD reprint (with soundtrack by Jen Anderson) of Raymond Longford's classic silent film The Sentimental Bloke. Normally bored and already squirming in my chair by the very idea of silent film, I was quite taken with it - it really is an engaging movie, capturing the wonderful vernacular of C.J. Dennis' verse novel.

C.J. himself (who had only published it 4 years earlier) appears at the start of the film. The main female lead (Lottie Lyell) was the de facto partner (and reputed co-director) of the credited director Raymond Longford, who you can see interviewed shortly before his death in 1959 on the extras. When a print of the film was rediscovered in the 1950s and re-released, he was found - then in his 80s - working as nightwatchman on the docks.

There's some great footage of Manly and Wolloomoolloo after the war, including a genuine digger in the background on the ferry as Bill and Doreen go on their first date. I really enjoyed it, and partly, if you'll allow the digression, because I once recorded an album at Jen Anderson's studio back in my musician days. A friend and I - both in other bands at the time - recorded a lowly independent CD there as a two-piece with some spare songs our respective outfits weren't using. He suggested Jen Anderson's studio - then in Northcote - where his band had recorded before. We both lived in Brisbane then, and it was a great week down here recording and louching around with muso friends and acquaintances.

Ten years later and I live a few streets away - though Jen herself has moved elsewhere in Melbourne. Suffice to say, she really was a great producer and sound technician - and I am truly blessed - as a part-timer then, and no longer in the game - to have Jen Anderson's violin solos on a song or two of my own. It really lifted the whole thing to another plane - and made it sound like I knew what I was doing. Which, by and large, I didn't.

Coming from Brisbane, I didn't realise then how BIG her band Weddings, Parties, Anything were in Melbourne. We went to a party and met them all - they were really great people. Top memories - thanks Jen! Whatever you're up to now. Anyway, the point is: I think the sound track is beautiful, and works seamlessly.

Oh yeah - and the title of my post. Watching Underbelly this last year, I got to wondering where this "Jacks" slang for coppers had come from, as I 'd never heard it. And lo! They appear as the "Johns" in C.J. Dennis. Mystery solved?