Here we go again

Sigh.

Just read the last post and thought... is this the only circumstance when I blog?

At home all day today as a result of several traits - a combination of being a slacker, a hypochondriac and an emotionally stunted male. Okay, I'm being a little harsh on myself here, but it hasn't been the best of days. Essentially, you're getting a blog post after I've exhausted all my preferred options.

Um. Sorry.

Um...

The new job is going well (gosh, over 3 months in now), had a nice holiday in Brisbane last week, and I think I need to find a new church because I'm not feeling the love from the new minister. And I need the love.

More later. Or not, depending on if I've learned my lesson yet about how blogging is probably a more fruitful way to deal with some of the dramas of life than, um... some of my less edifying tactics.

I'm an idiot

Seriously.

I have been stuck at home for VERY large chunks of time lately. My body's reaction to leaving a stressful job, or more particularly to the all-nighter I pulled in a wild attempt to clean up enough to not leave my colleagues and successor cursing my name, has been to fall prey to a variety of ailments. Not a week of the last six has gone by without some kind of misery.

I'm finally getting the message and doing some decent resting.

So, lots of thinking and potentially writing time. And what do I do with that time? Some of it has been spent watching DVDs of Millennium. Quite a bit of it has been spent listening to more live Tori Amos than is good for any sane man (yours truly bought all 27 Legs&Boots while pretending to reside in Texas), interspersed with Brahms, Joni Mitchell and early Elton John.

LOTS of it has been spent online either chatting or ogling. Talking to gay guys. Talking to gay Christians. Talking to anti-gay Christians for variety, although those conversations are often limited by the refusal of the 'opponent' to accept the proposition that their interpretation of Romans 1 is exactly that, an interpretation.

[I'm slightly disappointed by the silence I've had from one old friend that I contacted, ever since I stated that it was NOT the goal of the dialogue to change my ways and stop being gay. He could simply just be rather busy with his prophetic ministry, but I'm beginning to suspect he would have been more interested in continuing the conversation if I was looking to be saved from my sexuality.]

The one thing I haven't been doing, of course, is blogging. So you get yet another whining apologetic placeholder post with vague indications that I might start doing the real thing soon.

Right before Jesus comes again.

Tragedy

Ideas for posts come and go, and many never return from the ether...

...but this one stuck.

It's a little 'old' now, but there was a story about a man in Colorado who killed several others at two Christian organisations. The first was Youth With A Mission, which is an organisation I'm familiar with because they have a campus in my home town and several of my friends had some involvement with them at one time or another. The second was a church.

This is as good a summary as any.

The incident really didn't cause that much of a ripple on the news, at least over here, which says something about our perception of American culture. Yet another disaffected American male deciding that the way to solve his problems is to go down blasting simply isn't very newsworthy any more. We realised quite some time ago that this is the way they have learned to deal with life.

That these events are commonplace is sad enough, but I can't say I was immune from the general 'eh, so what' reaction. No, what really grabbed my attention was the way in which the gunman, Matthew, died. Not least because it, too, wasn't seen as worthy of comment.

[Sigh. Of course I've picked a version of the story that doesn't mention this.]

He was shot dead by a church security guard.

A church security guard.

Excuse me. When exactly did churches start having security guards?

I realise we are talking about a very large church. And also, that this is America. But still, I'm trying to grasp what's happening here. People are streaming in on a Sunday morning, welcoming each other and smiling, talking about how marvellous it is to be in such an inclusive church... filing past a security guard who has a gun.

I'm certainly not seeking to criticise the individual guard's actions. Far from it. If there's one situation where it's legitimate to take a life, it's to defend lives from someone intent on murder.

Despite that, I end up wondering how it came to pass that the church was actually prepared in this way for such an eventuality.

----------------------------------------------

Another side of this story emerged as information about Matthew and what he had written prior to the shootings came to light.

His targets were by no means accidental. But it also seems that a significant part of his grievance may have been to do with his sexuality, and the church's response to it.

Of course, it's impossible to unravel from here just who had said and done what over the course of several years. Depending on who you ask, the problem was the church trying to 'cure' Matthew, or the damage was done by other experiences involving abuse and rape, or something in him that was inherently 'troubled'.

And a lot of that perspective ultimately depends on your own views on whether homosexuality or bisexuality or anything other than straightforward, mainstream heterosexuality is a 'problem'.

My own views on this have changed markedly through personal experience. But, thankfully, the consequences for me of years of internal 'trouble' never extended as far as someone's life being lost.

As I said, it's impossible to know exactly what contribution that turmoil over sexuality and the church's response made to Matthew's raging hatred. But if it made any contribution, I can't help thinking that maybe tragedy would have been averted if someone, somewhere in the Christian community had been more willing to listen, and less willing to condemn something that I personally believe Matthew had no control over and couldn't alter no matter how much he wanted to.

Just Listen.

Please.

A whole new world

It's probably a little dramatic to say that getting a new computer has changed my life, but it's pretty close to the truth.

I don't think I'd entirely realised that not only was the old one downright annoying, having got to the point where it usually crashed every 15 minutes or so. It was actually holding me back from doing things. The real moment of realisation was a few weeks ago when I tried to do a job application, and it was a bit of a nightmare. I did most of the work on paper and updated the electronic version in little quarter-hour chunks. It was no longer a question of not being to able to surf the net for frivolous entertainment, my ability to undertake serious work was impaired.

Having said that, the new machine's usage so far has largely consisted of playing a couple of hours of continuous music at a time (anything under 79 minutes deserves a CD player) and re-entering the world of computer games. The fact that this computer can do both of those things pretty effortlessly is a source of great joy.

As far as the gaming is concerned, I've been sucked hook line and sinker back into the Myst series of games. My previous machine couldn't really cope very well with the last couple of titles, but now I'm happily working through the series finale... and, um, finding it very easy to switch over to the internet for a quick look at hints when I get too frustrated. *Embarrassed shuffle*

But even more significantly, I've been sucked into the online game that stemmed from the series. In one sense not much of a 'game' - like all the others, it involves a lot of walking around going 'ooh' and 'ah' at pretty landscapes. But it's populated by other people, who you can get to know, can go to the pub with, can invite home.

I've hardly had any encounters with online gaming before, but my goodness what a difference it makes to have a machine that's actually equipped for the job.

Resurrection

Well, at least it was a bit less than a year.

In one sense, so much has happened. I'm not going to attempt to encompass everything, but it feels as if it would be remiss not to at least mention raising over $10,000 for a charity, being prescribed antidepressants and finally telling the people that matter to me that I'm gay. All of which happened since my last post.

Because of that last one, in particular, I am certainly not the same person I was.

But one thing that definitely hasn't changed is that I like writing. It's my preferred way of communicating because it gives me time to construct ideas, and it gives other people time to absorb them. It would be nice if someone is absorbing them. If I'm honest, I do write to communicate rather than just to 'get it out of my system'. I was kind of chuffed that I managed to get one of the spotlight review spots on Amazon for American Doll Posse.

I'm not going to force myself to write gigantic essays, even on days like today when I have that 'how can I change the world' kind of feeling. In fact, it might be more interesting and productive to write short entries, but regularly.

So here's today's thought.

Life cannot be reduced to 10-second soundbites.

In America

, I am.

Don't really want to spend time writing about it, to be honest. It's more interesting to experience it now, and write about it later.

Suffice to say for now, I've almost got the hang of being a passenger in the driver's seat and light switches that go the wrong way. And I'm changing lots of 'a' sounds.

Oh, and the people are pretty nice. At least, the ones I know.

The thrill of the new: No.7

Hello. My name isn't orfeo, and I'm a Moloko addict.

It's all the website's fault. The majority of official band websites are fairly sad and useless affairs when it comes to actually hearing a decent amount of the music of someone you haven't heard before, although the situation seems to be gradually improving. It's slightly bizarre that the best band website I've ever come across belongs to a group that broke up about three years ago.

Then again, 'slightly bizarre' is an excellent description of Moloko. One review I've come across described them as "the band that the word 'quirky' was invented for".

I'm sure I've indicated on this blog before my distate for and frustration with dance music. Repetitive loops that show no sign of reaching a destination will never constitute decent music in my book (and it doesn't matter whether they're served up by a DJ or in a completely different context by that sad excuse for a classical composer, Philip Glass). What I want to dance to are songs.

Moloko served up great, great dance songs.

Often nonsensical songs, mind you, which used to disturb me a bit. Then again, given that my favourite singer comes up with lines like 'tuna rubber a little blubber in my igloo', it's a little difficult to complain. And when it comes to dancing, nonsensical lyrics don't seem to matter too much, so long as the music is good enough. Something along the lines of the following imagined conversation happened on several occasions early on in my encounter with Moloko's website:

Head: This song is silly. The chorus consists of people shouting 'Rameses! Colossus!' and a woman singing 'Indigo here we go-oh-oh'.

Foot: I don't care.

Head: Wait a minute... you're tapping. You never tap. Sure, the middle part of the body sometimes twists about a bit, but I can't even remember the last time you tapped.

Foot: Shut up and come back in four minutes.

After half a dozen or so of these conversations, my head admitted defeat, and my foot continues to look forward to the moment when a bunch of people start shouting 'Rameses! Colossus!'. And there are several songs better than that one.

I already knew about Moloko because they'd had a couple of minor hits here in Australia, which were apparently enormous hits in their native United Kingdom. One of these, The Time Is Now, transfixed me the first time I heard/saw it on a music television channel in my hotel room back in 2000, and not once has its magic failed. The thing is, I haven't had many opportunities to hear it in the last five years or so. I sampled the album it comes from but couldn't persuade myself at the time that it was a worthwhile purchase, and as it faded from the airwaves it became nothing more than an extremely fond infrequent memory. Moloko's next (and last) album managed a very small ripple, and that was pretty much it.

Nevertheless, because I totally adored that one song and had found the few others I'd heard at least vaguely interesting, I took notice when I discovered a few months ago that a best of called Catalogue was being released. So I headed for the website.

What greeted me was a page that didn't just have short samples of a few songs on Catalogue. It had full length streaming videos for all but one of them. Videos that were a large enough size to actually be watchable. And for the remaining song, there was streaming audio that ran for a couple of minutes. Basically, the album was available for free, so long as you were prepared to be tied to your computer and use a little bandwidth. The format meant that the video only had to be downloaded once and would then stay in the temporary internet files folder, so repeat viewings were simple.

I came to realise that in some instances the video wasn't actually the same version as is on the album - for example, the album has the full-length version of Pure Pleasure Seeker instead of the radio edit, and the only video ever made for Statues was a live version - but that didn't really matter. It still gave me a chance to pretty well know what I would be getting if I spent money on the CD.

What ended up happening is that I went back to the website three days in a row to listen to the songs. I figured after that I would be buying the CD. When I discovered that I had had Forever More in my head virtually non-stop for about a week, with the only interruptions being supplied by occasional bouts of The Time Is Now, I figured I would be buying the CD as soon as humanly possible, if only so that I had a chance to get on with life.

The strategy didn't entirely work. I got the CD, but at times that has only meant that my obsession has been portable and in better quality sound. Last week at work when things were pretty stressful, I must have played it at least 4 or 5 times so that I could tap into the adrenaline rush and enjoy what I was doing. I got to change things up a little by playing the live bonus disc that has almost the same tracklisting as the main disc.

And I want more.

For a start, I want the single of Forever More, because it's one of those tracks where the video is the single version (about 3:45) and the CD is the album version (about 7:20). The single version is one of those pieces of music I love for its relentless single-mindedness (pun not intended). There's nothing I enjoy more than the pursuit of a single musical idea, so long as that idea is a good one (and notice it's pursuit, not repetition). And Forever More has one of the most mind-numbingly catchy bass lines I've ever come across. Better yet, whoever directed the video understood this and translated it into visual form.

The long version gradually mutates the idea and turns from robotic electronics into something you might expect to hear in New Orleans. I've come to love this as well, but I still want to be able to have the short form as an option. So the CD single - which includes the video - is on the shopping list.

And I've also got my eye on a copy of the Statues album, because one of the local department stores still has a cheap copy of a special edition that has all the other commcercial videos on it! This thing must have been sitting in K-Mart for about 4 years, waiting for me to discover it while whole swathes of Black Eyed Peas albums marched in and out of the store. The only reason I didn't buy it on sight was because I was too stunned to make a decision, and because it didn't have Forever More as that video hadn't been made yet. But it had The Time Is Now, which is every bit as visually brilliant. And it sure doesn't hurt the eye to have frequent close-ups of Roisin Murphy, the lead singer.

Of course, all these videos will still be only on my computer screen, but hopefully in an even better resolution. Now if they get around to releasing them on DVD...

I told you, I'm an addict.

They can't take that away from me

Gosh, has it really been that long? I could have sworn I wrote a couple of posts in the last month, but I must have just thought them. Insert other mumbling apologies of your choice here.

Well, something just happened that might mean I'm here a bit more often. The chess site that I'm quite fond of going to at lunchtime in order to unwind seems to have been blocked by work. This has thrown me a bit. Yes, we have an internet policy that says the internet is primarily for work-related activities (duh), but as I had understood it, there was an allowance for reasonable non-work usage. And I would have thought that playing chess in a break was perfectly reasonable, if not downright beneficial.

Despite that, it seems it's allowable to while away the hours in what is essentially an online diary.

And yes, I will admit that very occasionally I would sneak a peek during the 'unofficial' breaks for morning tea and afternoon tea. I'm not a robot. Some days I can plough through my work and concentrate intensely, other days I can't. I still turn up and do the best I can.

It's official. It's now less enjoyable to work here.

So, the question becomes, what do I do during lunchtime? One of the attractions of using the internet at lunchtime is that it's possible to eat AND do something else at more or less the same time. I could go for walks I suppose - although there really isn't anywhere to walk to around here, so it would be a case of going through the motions purely for their own sake - but munching a sandwich at the same time will be tricky. There aren't many pleasant spots to go and sit to eat - park benches are virtually non-existent.

I could drive places and soak up half of the hour either being in traffic or looking for a parking spot (at both ends of the journey - even though I'm located in an isolated area, I'm stuck here with thousands of other people in the same situation), polluting the atmosphere and nourishing neither my mind or body. Yay.

I could eat my sandwich while staring blankly into space. The human screensaver.

Or, I could sit here and type. At least, I can until they decide to block Blogger as well. I'm sure it will come to that.

Sigh.

Betrayal

Remember how I bought my first iTunes track three months ago?

Come on, with the lack of activity on this blog it's only a few posts away. You know, I finally was persuaded to part with money for an iTunes exclusive track. Paid $1.69 for it.

Today, I came across Something for Kate's new single, and there it was. Along with two other songs I didn't have, and a remixed version of one I did have. For $3.00.

I bought it almost out of spite. Then I tracked down the previous single, the one that the 'exclusive' had been attached to, and bought it for $5.00.

Three months was all I had to wait. I've waited years before buying music sometimes. I've bought albums that are older than I am. What's three months?

Exclusive? Bah humbug!

Define terrorism

Yep. I wander off, totally forsake August, and then decide to come back with something really heavy.

Well, actually, that's a matter of perspective, if you heard me talk in real life you'd probably find I was more animated and passionate and serious about musical matters than about politics... but tonight you're getting politics. Sort of.

I am really, really sick of hearing about terrorists. I've been with my current employer for three years, and in all that time I don't think there's been a single day where the press clippings haven't been awash with stories about terrorism and about security and countermeasures. Meanwhile millions of people are dying of malaria and ice shelves are preparing to melt away, but the newspaper columns on terrorism just keep piling up.

What is a terrorist, anyway?

The word seems to have taken on a kind of self-evident quality. You label someone a terrorist, that's all you need to know about them. All hint of normal humanity and complexity just disappears. They are devoid of feeling, and have no other goal than to kill. They don't hate anything in particular about you, they just hate you because you exist. Pure, and very very simple.

Also, an awful lot like The Terminator.

I've seen the word 'terrorist' thrown about in all sorts of contexts it never used to be found in. Right at this moment I can't remember any of the specific examples, but some of them have been wildly inappropriate. Any kind of destructive tendency has become 'terrorism'.

Let's think about what the word actually means for a second. My quaint old dictionary, published in the innocent year of 1991, describes terrorism as follows:

1. The use of terrorising methods, especially the use of violence to achieve political ends.
2. The state of fear and submission so produced. [edit: eh? don't often see this usage]
3. A method of resisting a government or of governing by deliberate acts of armed violence.

Notice how there's no mention of religious fundamentalists whose only intent is to obtain 72 virgins in paradise and who achieve this by taking as many infidels with them as possible?

Terrorism was - and is - a method of achieving something else. Back then it was clearly a political goal. I'm of the view that that's still true, even if the politics has been heavily obscured by religious language.

But somehow, we're gradually being persuaded that terrorism isn't the means, it's the end in itself. We have world leaders trying to convince us that there are raving lunatics bent on killing us just because we're there to be killed. Which means they won't ever stop trying to kill us. Which means, all we can do is become smarter at stopping them - build bigger 'fences', become cleverer in catching them, become more ruthless in our countermeasures.

And our leaders, very nicely, offer to do the protecting.

If they're right - if the goal of terrorists is simply to invoke terror for it's own sake, without any further aim of altering the behaviour of the targets beyond making us act like scared rabbits...

...we've already lost.