Secrets on the interwebs

I don't know about you, but I find this page kinda groovy. People write secrets on postcards and send them in for interwebment, by erm .... interwebbers.

Going to Japan

You know, one of the very few perks of being an academic at one of Victoria's premier lesser universities has been the regular work travel on my grants. Sadly, it only covers yours truly, and there's three of us here at Keating Towers.

So, time to cut Ms. and little Miss LE in on the action. We're going to Japan. Its just like when the Brady Bunch went to the grand canyon. Or something.

Rough itinerary: Kyoto, Nara and a bit of Tokyo. Naturally I plugged for Nagasaki - in case there's a Portuguese brick or two intact - but I have been overruled by majority vote.

Over to you, jetsetters - any hot tips in the vicinity of that itinerary?

The urge to Serge

And another thing! I'll have you know Serge Gainsbourg is not my favourite French artist. He's one of my favourite songwriters period.

I love every phase of his work. From the late 50s jazz (eg Le Poinçonneur des Lilas), through the Afro-Latin mambo style period (eg Couleur Cafe, Pauvre Lola), and into his classic 60s pop (Les Sucettes), tongue-in-cheek erotica ( is there a better bassline in all history than 69 Annee Erotique?) and hey, even his weirder themed efforts like L'homme à tête de chou and Histoire de Melody Nelson.

Ok, so Im not quite so enamoured of his 80s reggae and disco work - but cut the guy some slack, he was getting on.

I must confess I have never heard Rock around the Bunker - his album about WW2 and Nazi themes; reputedly in the usual form of a clever, lascivious pisstake (1975). But I really have to. In case that sounds tasteless, well ... firstly: welcome to Serge Gainsbourg. But second, Gainsbourg was Jewish, born in 1928, and wore the yellow star in occupied France, and spent some of the war years in hiding from the Nazis and Vichy regime. If that helps you get your head around it.

If you need a Serge start-up kit, I would avoid the trans-period "best of" collections. He's too diverse for that to work. Rather, I'd go for one of Du Jazz dans La Ravine, Couleur Cafe, or Comic Strip - which individually capture his three best periods.

Balibo Fort: Silent Witness

View from Batugade Fort (border area), to Balibo hills.

Built in the mid 1600s. The 'Balibo five' journalists were filming from the fort on October 16 1975 (as the Indonesian military forces climbed the hills from the border at Batugade), shortly before they were murdered by ABRI special forces and associated militia.


















Balibo Fort
The notorious 'Balibo declaration' signed by UDT, APODETI, KOTA and Trabalhista leaders on November 30 - criticising the de facto FRETILIN government's declaration of independence on November 28 - was used as a pretext for Operation Kommodo, the invasion of East Timor. According to the subsequent testimony of all four signatories, the statement was in fact prepared by ABRI Intel; signed in Bali, not West Timor; and (even according to the leader of APODETI - the small pro-integration party) signed under duress.


















View from Balibo fort to border areas and West Timor.
A thousand UN troops were stationed here during the INTERFET mission.


















Balibo House
In 2003, the Victorian Government bought and restored Balibo House. It now serves as a creche, library and vocational training centre for the town.

How 40 broke my brain!

So, stupidly, I resumed smoking in my 39th year, having cut it back to very little in my mid 30s. I dunno why, and frankly, this is no time for recriminations. So back off! I gotta focus here.

Maybe it was because of my deep certainty that there'd be no such behaviour after 40. I think I cleverly reverse wedged myself into going overboard on the toxins in the lead up.

Anyhoo! This is day 3 of being 40, days 3 of not smoking (again) and ..... I'm a moron!! A grumpy moron to boot, so dont gimme any of that chirpy 'life starts at' shit until at least day 7 - e.g when I'm no longer about to yell "#&%$ off" whenever some cute 4 year old comes in, claiming to be my daughter.

Yessir, I can barely string a coherent thought together. Good thing I finished that article on Saturday, before my brain broke. Mind you, doing those footnotes on Monday was painfully slow - like trying to thread a needle drunk, wearing vaseline-smeared goggles, and those crazy anti-masturbation gloves favoured by 19th century nuthouses.

Yes. It was just like that.

Oh yeah, and %$& you, Walter Raleigh. See that Man-o-War closing in off the starboard side?

Ataque!! Dispare em todos os canhões ! Não tome nenhum prisioneiros! Ao fortaleza, marinheiros!!

Ha haaaahahahaa, hahaaa, haaaaaahaaa!

I'll be back.

More Cassavetes

So, last night I watched Killing of a Chinese Bookie, which was a terrific film noir-style effort, while it all hung together. Which was approximately 60 mins, in my view.

Everyone raves about this flic, but am I the only ill-informed film-waller in the room who found it had some major continuity issues? A wee problemo or two, with the olde edit suite?

Mind you: Ben Gazzara rules as Cosmo Vitelli. And its kinda bugging me too. The film, that is. I'm certainly not forgetting it in a hurry. Maybe that's what Cassavetes wants. A piece of my mind.

Frankly, I think I'm getting paranoid watching these Cassavetes films. Still, in the name of science....

Cassavetes

Blimey. This was a discovery. I'm not really one of yer film buffs who nods sagely when Directors' names are dropped. More a film bluff.

But I just watched A Woman under the Influence, and John Cassavetes is the first director I would unreservedly declare a genius. Peter Falk and Gena Rowlands - the latter especially- give performances that are nothing short of harrowing in this psycho-drama. Soo-weeee. I had to watch it two sittings.

Apparently it wasn't going to be distributed until Scorcese threatened to pull his own film from a festival - unless this one got the nod. Which just goes to show Scorcese knows a thing or two about film. Unlike me. But I'd wager Mike Leigh is a big Cassavetes fan, wouldn't you say, erm....Margaret?

Five and a half lattes.

Michael Caine is cool

Muerda mi Latte: edición Española

Hola! Yo he notado que alguna gente de Suramérica o de España visitan este blog de vez en cuando. Por favor, sienta usted libre de decir hola (en Castellano) aqui, en esta raíz. ¿De dónde es usted, cómo es la vida allí? ¿Qué noticias de su país?

On turning 40

You know, the median age is more or less exactly 37 these days, here in the western Antipodes - so I slipped over to the old half some time back.

That said, there's no avoiding the significance of one's upcoming fortieth birthday - or is there? Just a couple of weeks of the 30s left now. It's been grand, I must say. At the start of this decade, I was an itinerant musician and part-time mental health worker, avoiding my PhD like the plague.

Now look at me. An academic at one of Victoria's premier lesser universities and part-time fort enthusiast, avoiding my overdue article like the plague.

I'm feeling rather sanguine, truth be told - though a few months back I think I started to go a bit wobbly about around the edges, and acting rather strangely. (For example, I went right off Portuguese forts in Asia for a good couple of weeks).

But now... meh. I'm just looking forward to the party. Otherwise feeling rather insouciant about it all.

So, what should I be thinking about at such a time? Health? Insurance? Comfortable footwear?Wills and probate?!!

Any wise thoughts and reflections from my elders welcome.