After Hoi An, we headed further south to Nha Trang; I'd never heard of this city, but it turned out to be a bunch of fun. We went on South East Asia's longest cable car over to the amusement park on Vinpearl Island. It turned out to be an awesome place, complete with bumper cars, buck hunter, a 4D cinema, hot dogs, and a roller coaster (my first). The city also boasts a number of trendy beachside bars; we hit up the boat club (which is almost as wanky as it sounds) and found that they have a beach bonfire. Awesome.
With that done, we headed on to our final stop in Viet Nam, Saigon. Saigon is home to a very impressive war museum, as well as the Chu Chi tunnels. In these tiny tunnels, an entire village buried itself by day for the duration of the American-Viet Nam war. We went through some "westernised" (read: enlarged) tunnels, and I discovered claustrophobia.
Remarkably we were involved in no significant accidents, despite drunkenly supermanning on motorbikes, weaving through the worlds most dense fields of moving motorbikes, and cycling (/dinking) on pre-war pushies. Aside from the boat accident, we did see a tourist bus which had fallen off the side of a road and sunk in a rice field; the bus was identical to the one we were on at the time.
All in all, we had a great trip through Viet Nam. Now on to Cambodia!
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Wednesday, 14 December 2011
Tuesday, 13 December 2011
Hoi An
Hoi An is another phenomenally tourist centric locale, but I'd still reccomend it to anyone travelling through Viet Nam. The town is primarily famed for it's boutique fashion stores (Including the tailor shop Yaly, as featured on Top Gear, where I got a few shirts made). On every street there are shops for custom building shoes, tailoring shirts and dresses, making hats, and flogging floor price North Face merch.
But it's not just the retail therapy that makes this city worth a visit; about half of Hoi An is cut off to any "non-primative vehicles", meaning that you can walk or cycle through, but you will see very few motorbikes and no cars on the streets nearer the river. The local planning authorities are strongly pushing old world charm as a feature of the town. They do their best to charge for tickets to visit the town, and are very strict on approving DAs lodged anywhere near the water. The result, is not exactly breathtaking, with most travellers being thoroughly disappointed, but it is nicer than many other places and really lacks much of the hustle and bustle of Viet Nam's bigger cities.
The nightlife in Hoi An also shines, with a smorgous board of bars running through the night. Me and a mate jumped on the back of a random motorbike to a random bar (my hat blew off in the wind, and I nearly lost a thong) to find it was practically empty at around midnight. I put a few songs on, we shot some pool, and before we knew it the bar had filled up with travellers (most of whom had jumped on the back of random motorbikes for the promise of cheap buckets) and stayed packed til we left around 4:00 AM. Somehow I wound up spending half the night running the Laptop and PA DJ set up, and showing the bar staff how to make simple cocktails (rather than just serving bottled beer).
But it's not just the retail therapy that makes this city worth a visit; about half of Hoi An is cut off to any "non-primative vehicles", meaning that you can walk or cycle through, but you will see very few motorbikes and no cars on the streets nearer the river. The local planning authorities are strongly pushing old world charm as a feature of the town. They do their best to charge for tickets to visit the town, and are very strict on approving DAs lodged anywhere near the water. The result, is not exactly breathtaking, with most travellers being thoroughly disappointed, but it is nicer than many other places and really lacks much of the hustle and bustle of Viet Nam's bigger cities.
The nightlife in Hoi An also shines, with a smorgous board of bars running through the night. Me and a mate jumped on the back of a random motorbike to a random bar (my hat blew off in the wind, and I nearly lost a thong) to find it was practically empty at around midnight. I put a few songs on, we shot some pool, and before we knew it the bar had filled up with travellers (most of whom had jumped on the back of random motorbikes for the promise of cheap buckets) and stayed packed til we left around 4:00 AM. Somehow I wound up spending half the night running the Laptop and PA DJ set up, and showing the bar staff how to make simple cocktails (rather than just serving bottled beer).
Sunday, 4 December 2011
Ha Long
Everyone I spoke to about travelling through Vietnam's north has told me I simply must see Ha Long Bay, and that there is no better way to see it then cruising on a traditional Junk. The bay is excuisite, and absolutely picturesque.
So we headed to Ha Long, looking forward to seeing this unspoilt place with it's crystal bays and majestic caves and islands. We headed to the dock by bus, our small group of eight, and were seated in a silver service dining boat set for at least sixty people. The fresh local seafood was spectacular, with stuffed baked crab being followed by fresh prawns, fish and chips, and coure after course of exceptional food in even more exceptional surrounds.
Following our lavish lunch we retired to the roof to lounge in the sun and watch the bay pass us by. The photograph below is not out boat, nor is tit taken by anyone I know. I pulled it from Flickr because all the boats on Ha Long bay are exactly the same and there's hundreds of them, all with rich whitey tourists eating much the same fancy fare and all on their way to see the allegedly heritage listed cave.
I was incredibly excited about seeing the cave. I love caves. I love rocks. It was really my thing.
Anyhow, it turns out the cave has in fact been developed into quite an attraction. There is a series of concrete paths, all made of plaster and designed to look like natual cave features, and dripping water designed to simulate the natural formation of speleotherms in caves (it was somewhat let down by the speed of the water flowing and the fact that you could hear the pump). Another fountain was quite simply just a four foot Lake-Burley-Griffin styly fountain, completely out of place except that it fit with the coloured lights that adorned every section and cave feature. Perhaps I'm being cynical, but when I look at the 'cave wall' and see powerpoints or an electrical distribution box I kind of feel there's something a little sad going on. It pains me to see a site that should be so sacred being decimated for the sake of garishness.
Following this we headed to a traditional floating Ha Long Bay fishing village (which I suspect is largely subsistant on tourist income), hired kiaks and paddled through natural cave systems without plaster, concrete or glitry light in sight. It wa great fun and this went some way to clearing my Ha Long cave-related dissapointment.
Interestingly, Vietnamese boat captains subscribe to a similar chaos based traffic system. The massive number of tourist boats all heading to the same placed makes for significant amounts of traffic. Just as we were marveling at how they pass between each other and never crash, our bow passed beneath the stern of another Junk. It caught a taught rope and bent our mast over to about 40 degrees from vertical, nearly snapping it right off, before the bow of the other Junk gave way, tearing the ornate timber from the ship. Our driver took off without so much as a second look and we headed back to Ha Long town.
The town itself was designed exclusively for tourists. One side of the main road is lined with hotels, while the other is lined with retaurants, souvenier shops and bars. We hit up all three and the latter was the best (both a foos ball table and a rat pushing it into the lead).
So we headed to Ha Long, looking forward to seeing this unspoilt place with it's crystal bays and majestic caves and islands. We headed to the dock by bus, our small group of eight, and were seated in a silver service dining boat set for at least sixty people. The fresh local seafood was spectacular, with stuffed baked crab being followed by fresh prawns, fish and chips, and coure after course of exceptional food in even more exceptional surrounds.
Following our lavish lunch we retired to the roof to lounge in the sun and watch the bay pass us by. The photograph below is not out boat, nor is tit taken by anyone I know. I pulled it from Flickr because all the boats on Ha Long bay are exactly the same and there's hundreds of them, all with rich whitey tourists eating much the same fancy fare and all on their way to see the allegedly heritage listed cave.
I was incredibly excited about seeing the cave. I love caves. I love rocks. It was really my thing.
Anyhow, it turns out the cave has in fact been developed into quite an attraction. There is a series of concrete paths, all made of plaster and designed to look like natual cave features, and dripping water designed to simulate the natural formation of speleotherms in caves (it was somewhat let down by the speed of the water flowing and the fact that you could hear the pump). Another fountain was quite simply just a four foot Lake-Burley-Griffin styly fountain, completely out of place except that it fit with the coloured lights that adorned every section and cave feature. Perhaps I'm being cynical, but when I look at the 'cave wall' and see powerpoints or an electrical distribution box I kind of feel there's something a little sad going on. It pains me to see a site that should be so sacred being decimated for the sake of garishness.
Following this we headed to a traditional floating Ha Long Bay fishing village (which I suspect is largely subsistant on tourist income), hired kiaks and paddled through natural cave systems without plaster, concrete or glitry light in sight. It wa great fun and this went some way to clearing my Ha Long cave-related dissapointment.
Interestingly, Vietnamese boat captains subscribe to a similar chaos based traffic system. The massive number of tourist boats all heading to the same placed makes for significant amounts of traffic. Just as we were marveling at how they pass between each other and never crash, our bow passed beneath the stern of another Junk. It caught a taught rope and bent our mast over to about 40 degrees from vertical, nearly snapping it right off, before the bow of the other Junk gave way, tearing the ornate timber from the ship. Our driver took off without so much as a second look and we headed back to Ha Long town.
The town itself was designed exclusively for tourists. One side of the main road is lined with hotels, while the other is lined with retaurants, souvenier shops and bars. We hit up all three and the latter was the best (both a foos ball table and a rat pushing it into the lead).
Ha Noi
Touching down in Ha Noi was a fascinating experience. For some reason my flight arrived in the domestic terminal, instead of international. While I was waiting for my bag, which was delayed, a group of passangers hanging out by the No Smoking sign lit up a cigarette. On seeing this, a number of other passangers went and joined them.
After clearing customs I headed out in the hectic terminal. I managed to get past the throng of drivers there to pick up tourists with booked connections, and was thence tailed by keen cab drivers offering me a lift. I sat my bag down for just a few seconds and someone was in the process of picking it up to carry to his waiting taxi. I managed to convince him that I was waiting on a pre-booked connection, and he started trying to offer me assistance in finding an ATM. Eventually I managed to shake him off, found an ATM, and set off to find a bus.
My vision of a public bus station outside the airport with large 67 seat busses taking people into the city was quickly dissolved. In this area it seems bus refers more to something like a Toyota Hiace. I found a bus full of locals (and at 16 people, I do mean full), paid my 40,000 Dong (The locals paid 35K) and we set off. Of course, I had no idea where I was going, or how I would know when I had arrived. IU had a chat with the old woman sitting next to me but she spoke very little English. She said she has lived in Ha Noi all her life and was just coming back from Saigon. She would very much like to come and visit Australia some day, and she had a friend who now lives in Melbourne.
Somewhat at random I got out of our van in an area that looked like it must me the city. About a dozen motorbike taxis came to offer their assistance; I turned it down in favour of a vehicle taxi. The driver had never heard of my hotel (Anh Hoy), nor the street it's on, and spoke practically no English. He asked some motorbike taxis, but they had no idea, so he eventually pulled out his mobile and called someone, presumably someone with Google Maps open, and got directions.
The hotel was fantastic; I went in and slept a few hours before heading out for dinner. Sam's flights were delayed yet again, so it was quite late by the time he eventually got in.
The following day we visited temples and museums galore, all in the teeming rain. Sam and I both bought ponchos at a stall and I'm still amazed at the quiality, durability and value.
We had lunch at a cafe filled exclusively with whiteys: Koto. Actually a really cool place, Koto is a training restaurant set up by an Aussie (I think) to train Vietnamese students in hospitality and kitchen skills. The kitchen ran at the speed of a normal Vietnamese kitchen (remember the one of the country's most important animals is the turtle) but the food was splendid. After lunch we hit the bar upstairs where I got a proper espresso based coffee with Kaluah, and a bananna and toffee cheescake of sorts. The menu writing leaves plenty of surprises when the food arrives, but it is quite good. I would highly reccomend visiting this place for anyone in Saigon or Ha Noi.
For dinner we had (amongs many other things) frog legs and a local beer which is served the day it's brewed (and hence sells for AUS $0.30 a longie). This was followed by Karaoke (very popular in Ha Noi) where whisky is by the bottle and the staff (about a dozen of them) hang outide the door watching and laughing at whiteys making foold of themselves.
After clearing customs I headed out in the hectic terminal. I managed to get past the throng of drivers there to pick up tourists with booked connections, and was thence tailed by keen cab drivers offering me a lift. I sat my bag down for just a few seconds and someone was in the process of picking it up to carry to his waiting taxi. I managed to convince him that I was waiting on a pre-booked connection, and he started trying to offer me assistance in finding an ATM. Eventually I managed to shake him off, found an ATM, and set off to find a bus.
My vision of a public bus station outside the airport with large 67 seat busses taking people into the city was quickly dissolved. In this area it seems bus refers more to something like a Toyota Hiace. I found a bus full of locals (and at 16 people, I do mean full), paid my 40,000 Dong (The locals paid 35K) and we set off. Of course, I had no idea where I was going, or how I would know when I had arrived. IU had a chat with the old woman sitting next to me but she spoke very little English. She said she has lived in Ha Noi all her life and was just coming back from Saigon. She would very much like to come and visit Australia some day, and she had a friend who now lives in Melbourne.
Somewhat at random I got out of our van in an area that looked like it must me the city. About a dozen motorbike taxis came to offer their assistance; I turned it down in favour of a vehicle taxi. The driver had never heard of my hotel (Anh Hoy), nor the street it's on, and spoke practically no English. He asked some motorbike taxis, but they had no idea, so he eventually pulled out his mobile and called someone, presumably someone with Google Maps open, and got directions.
The hotel was fantastic; I went in and slept a few hours before heading out for dinner. Sam's flights were delayed yet again, so it was quite late by the time he eventually got in.
The following day we visited temples and museums galore, all in the teeming rain. Sam and I both bought ponchos at a stall and I'm still amazed at the quiality, durability and value.
We had lunch at a cafe filled exclusively with whiteys: Koto. Actually a really cool place, Koto is a training restaurant set up by an Aussie (I think) to train Vietnamese students in hospitality and kitchen skills. The kitchen ran at the speed of a normal Vietnamese kitchen (remember the one of the country's most important animals is the turtle) but the food was splendid. After lunch we hit the bar upstairs where I got a proper espresso based coffee with Kaluah, and a bananna and toffee cheescake of sorts. The menu writing leaves plenty of surprises when the food arrives, but it is quite good. I would highly reccomend visiting this place for anyone in Saigon or Ha Noi.
For dinner we had (amongs many other things) frog legs and a local beer which is served the day it's brewed (and hence sells for AUS $0.30 a longie). This was followed by Karaoke (very popular in Ha Noi) where whisky is by the bottle and the staff (about a dozen of them) hang outide the door watching and laughing at whiteys making foold of themselves.
Monday, 28 November 2011
Malaysia
I'm sitting on the steps of a temple in the backstreets of Johor Baru, taking shelter from a sudden downpour. I haven't seen another whitey since clearing customs at departure. From the looks I've been getting, I suspect there aren't so many westerners coming though here at all.
A family just walked past me, a large hairy white guy, in bright green shorts sitting on a filthy step; the old man regarded me with a weak contempt, the child with fear and suspicion, but the warmth from the old woman was comforting.
On arrival in Malaysia, upon realising that I don't know the currency here, let alone have any, I decided there was no avoiding dealing with the money changer. I suspect he spoke no English, and I speak no Malay, but the transaction was managed so efficiently it would make one wonder why we have language at all. Getting a drink was somewhat more amusing, all the girls in the juice bar were giggling as they tried to figure out what I wanted. There was such an accomplished pride on the face of the girl who managed to complete the transaction, it was really nice to see.
My major accomplishment for my entire time in Malaysia was buying a souvenier fridge magnet that says "Malaysia".
Thursday, 24 November 2011
Singapore Beginnings
People often complain that flying can be tiring, which seems odd given that out consists of sitting for hours on end. But I think I've figured it out; it's the constant offers and queries. From the moment you board the plane, you're being given things. "Would you like a hot towel, sir?", "Can I offer you a drink?", "Here is your headset", "Would you like a cold towel?", "Here is your toothbrush", "Have some pork and rice", "Would you like a dry towel?", "Have a muffin", "Would you like another drink?". It's nice, sure, but it's exhausting.
As you've probably guessed, I'm on a plane. I've just flown out of Sydney, waved goodbye to the Townie as I flew overhead, and I'm well on my way to Singapore to see my brother. This blag is probably going to be the best spot to find out where I'm up to, and how I'm going on my quest to not come back dead.
Following the flight into Singapore's lavish Chengi Airport (the vast expanses of marble between each check point serving as more of a frustration than anything as my legs were seized up), my brother picked me up and right away we were out into the Singapore heat and seeing the country. The airport is in the bottom right of the country, and we drove from there across the island to the very top, where he works, then all the way back to the south where we checked out some of the city centres architecture and ridiculous american retail stores (gucci, lois, prada and so on).
After heading back to his flat and taking in the spectacular view of the neighbouring jungle and revoir from 20 stories up, we headed for beers at the local hawker centre and dinner on the local dining strip.
This morning I find myself writing from the very same hawker centre, sipping a black coffee (I'm yet to figure out how to order it otherwise) and contemplating how I'm going to find my way to my next stop, a museum that may or may not be called "National Museum".
P.S. When in Singapore, I advise not forgetting shorts.
Thursday, 10 February 2011
ANZ ATM
I just sent the following to the ANZ, via the ANZ Online Enquies service:
The card arrived, in regular mail. A few days later, I received a phone call from ANZ apologising, but explaining that they don't offer an express option. What they do offer is a courier; which costs $50, but is free if it's a bank error. Since I didn't get my free courier, they're instead going to offer me a free courier next time I need my card replaced and it actually is my fault. I'm happy enough with that.
Earlier today I attempted to withdraw funds from my ANZ account, with my ANZ card, at an ANZ ATM. I was given the message that the transaction had timed out, and I should try again.
This would be fine, but my card was retained by an ATM. I contacted ANZ immediately and was offered no explanation as to why my card was taken, and the only option offered to me was a reissued card.
I accept that corporate bureaucracy dictates little flexibility; but since ANZ lies at fault in this situation I was decidedly unimpressed by ANZs refusal to issue my card by Express Post. Expecting me to tolerate a bank error leaving me without my card for a week is extremely poor work on your company's behalf.I was then asked to obtain a pen and paper to copy down some number; I had already made it clear that I am standing at an ATM, not in an office. When I asked for the number to be sent by email or text message, I was again refused any flexibility.
When banking with the Commonwealth Bank I was subjected to extremely lacklustre customer service, and as a result I ceased banking with them. I had hoped ANZ would prove more worthwhile, and since I opened my accounts last April they have.
I hope that this issue will be resolved with expedience so that I can remain an ANZ customer now and in the future. I'm sure my continued business is worth the cost of an Express Post envelope.
Regards,
Michael
The card arrived, in regular mail. A few days later, I received a phone call from ANZ apologising, but explaining that they don't offer an express option. What they do offer is a courier; which costs $50, but is free if it's a bank error. Since I didn't get my free courier, they're instead going to offer me a free courier next time I need my card replaced and it actually is my fault. I'm happy enough with that.
Friday, 3 December 2010
NSW Police Dangerous Driving Report
So I just emailed NSW Police Customer Assistance, with the following to say about an aggressive and dangerous driver. I didn't mention that I was passing a paddy wagon at the time, nor that I shouted 'Watch what you're f*cking doing' at the top of my lungs and was ignored by the cops standing only meters away.My inquiry is this: Does the NSW Police website offer the facility to report dangerous driving, to make NSW roads safer? Because I (as a cyclist) was just (10:20 3/12/10) dangerously overtaken by the driver of a silver soft roader (Plate: BBE-75F), where the driver crossed double lines (Hampden Rd Artarmon) into oncoming traffic beside me then leaned on his horn. At the very least, this person deserves a pamphlet reminding him that cyclists are road users, not game to be hunted; the facility to report such incidents could potentially allow for making our roads safer for all road users.
And I heard back!
Michael
If you wish to make a report about the actions of another motorist you should attend a Police Station and make a formal statement setting out the details of the incident. The Police will then interview the registered owner of the vehicle and driver and take action as appropriate. Should the matter proceed to a court hearing, you, as the primary witness, will have to attend court and give evidence proving the offence.
Regards Jim
Customer Assistance Unit.
Thursday, 11 November 2010
Marriage Equality
So, someone tweeted me a link reminding me to write to my local MPs on marriage equality. Here's a summary:
I sent one to Joe Hockey also, but using some more flavored language, as he was recently reported making some unsavoury remarks about gays in the media.
Dear Rob,
I know a lot of gay voters in the electorate.
You're a reasonable guy, you probably recognise that the majority of the population supports gay marriage.
It's one more step to removing state sponsored discrimination, which will eventually help to reduce homophobia. That means that students at schools in rural Australia won't have to deal with the same level of consistent abuse as the gay students I knew at Chatham High.
I hope we can all count on you to push for marriage equality.
Yours sincerely,
Michael Kelly
I sent one to Joe Hockey also, but using some more flavored language, as he was recently reported making some unsavoury remarks about gays in the media.
Sunday, 22 August 2010
Congratulations, and...
Unable to stand idly by in such an exciting time for Australia, I penned an email to my local member and (now) political power broker Independent Rob Oakeshott about this momentous moment, and who deserves to be granted supply.Rob Oakeshott,
Like so many others, I want to congratulate you on your phenomenal win this election, deservingly retaining our electorate; and particularly showing that independents are indeed a powerful force in Australian democracy.
I want to remind you that many like myself are inspired by your leadership, and are looking forward to seeing you represent us in a progressive way.
You know only too well the limitations of the telecommunications network in our area. It's a massive issue around the nation, especially in regional Australia. Around the Manning area, we still have people who can't access ADSL, let alone broadband. These people are still on dial-up, it shows clearly how regional Australia has been ignored and left behind. So many regional Australians have been told that wireless can meet their needs, been duped, and left out of pocket with wireless hardware that is just as slow as dial-up, at several times the price.
We know that the Liberal government's half baked approach to the digital economy will echo Telstra's approach: promising solutions, implementing technology that's doomed to fail, and ignoring the end users pleas and frustration when they are left with a hopeless connection. It is this sort of failed policy on the digital future which will continue to drain the youth out of the regions of Australia, weakening areas like the Manning.
Having been schooled in the area, and having a passion for public education, I am still involved with both of my old schools (Crowdy Head Public and Chatham High) and their students. My dad lives in Crowdy Head, and teaches at several primary schools around the region. He bemoans the lack of permanent facilities; and like so many he is elated at the Education Revolution's construction of permanent classroom facilities. I am naturally cynical toward initiatives that involve the Dept. of Educ and Training, but I can honestly say I was overwhelmingly impressed by the implementation of the laptop per child program. These initiatives have made me all the more excited about becoming a rural/regional public school teacher, in the hope that I will be teaching in a system that is properly funded, and respects the role of the internet in the future of education; made possible my a traditionally egalitarian Rudd/Gillard government.
On the other side of politics, we have a sexist, homophobic racist. An international embarrassment.
The next few years promise to be a fascinating ride, we all look forward to watching on as you and your fellow independents exercise a powerful voice in Australian democracy on behalf of regional Australia and the country at large. I strongly hope that you will vote for the less shameful side of government on supply, such that we needn't be ashamed of our PM, our digital future, or our education system. Equally, I look forward to seeing the government held accountable for every decision they make from here on, by a truly independent balance of power in the House of Representatives.
Regards,
Michael Kelly
Lyne Constituent
Images from Focus Mag and Oakeshott's website respectively.
Monday, 30 November 2009
Email to UN about Alum Mountain
This morning I wrote an email to Special Rapporteur on the Situation of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms of Indigenous Peoples, James Anaya, about the Bulahdelah bypass.
I haven't time to write anything more in depth this morning; but adding another voice to the discourse can't hurt. James' contact details are as follows:
[Photo credits go to Wilderness Kev for both images]
There is a bunch of info about the situation if you don't know whats going on or just want to find out more.
Manning Times article on ICAC submissions
NBN Snipped about eviction of traditional owners
FB group: Bulahdelah bypass - The facts
And of course, Google for more info.
I haven't time to write anything more in depth this morning; but adding another voice to the discourse can't hurt. James' contact details are as follows:
OHCHR, United Nation
1211 Geneva 10
Switzerland
Tel. + 41 - 22 917 96 47 fax + 41 - 22 917 60 10
Email: indigenous@ohchr.org
[Photo credits go to Wilderness Kev for both images]
There is a bunch of info about the situation if you don't know whats going on or just want to find out more.
Manning Times article on ICAC submissions
NBN Snipped about eviction of traditional owners
FB group: Bulahdelah bypass - The facts
And of course, Google for more info.
Prof. Anaya,
You have probably been contacted by others in relation to the current action by the Roads and Traffic Authority in NSW, Australia to decimate a number of sacred Aboriginal sites. They are planning a highway through the Bulahdelah (Alum) mountain, a landmark significant to local people, but most sacred to Aboriginal people. But it is not just the sacred ancient mountain itself that is under threat; the site also contains the Healing Tree, and the sacred Healing Stream, amongst others.
Our government has an appalling record on Indigenous issue: from the racial genocide upon which Australia was founded, to the dispossession, the stolen generation, race based restrictions on transport and rights, classification of Aboriginal people as fauna, and even the much more recent and continuing military 'intervention' in the Northern Territory, which is largely in contravention of the recommendations of the Little Children Are Sacred report upon which the intervention was allegedly founded.
This government has proven time and time again that it cannot be trusted on issues related to race. I hope that you will make contact with our government and let them know that what they are doing is wrong; they will not listen to us, but maybe they will listen to you.
Regards,
Michael Joseph Kelly
Friday, 9 October 2009
Mos Def, and...
I heard this song on Triple J the other day and tracked it down. It is called Auditorium, and was released by Mos Def, but features Slick Rick. He sings the verse, that made the song stand out to me (I've since tracked down some of his releases). Anyhow I went looking for lyrics to this track, and found none of integrity, so I decided to pen out my own; but it seemed less appropriate when written. You really need to check out the track to get it, because the words merely leave one thinking: 'Huh?'. The relevant section starts at around 2:30.
Have in common with this one:
Also, un-relatedly, coming up soon (where 'soon' means 'eventually'), what do these images:
Have in common with this one:
Find out about this, and about the effect of our current dual system schools on society, and maybe a little about how to build an atomic bomb; with the launch of some new content at some stage soon. Will be announced.
Monday, 24 August 2009
An odour came in the window thismorning, and has permeated my day. The house began to smell, and when I burst forth expecting fresh air out the back door, I began to dry wretch and the stench only intensified outside. I scampered to the train station, pausing only to cough and hack from the newly induced illness. It resurfaced briefly on the breeze at the platform, before disappearing; leaving only the lingering unpleasantness in my nostrils.
Alas, my freedom was not to last. When I got off the bus, I was again assulted by this smell. Just once, brief but intense, carried on the breeze. I went inside,
up to level four, and found a couch. I was now bothered only by the sound of the wind in the eaves, the bright wooden light fixtures above me,and my own difficulty staying awake as I reclined on the expansive grey-brown leather couch.
Image: Entrance stairs to the library (Photocredit: Andreisky) bacause I couldn't find a shot of the couch itself.
I have a number of significant assesments this week, including an essay and three exams, so it is unlikely that I will find time to express anythign else in the same detail as this. You'll have to make do.
Hope all is well, world.
m'
Alas, my freedom was not to last. When I got off the bus, I was again assulted by this smell. Just once, brief but intense, carried on the breeze. I went inside,
up to level four, and found a couch. I was now bothered only by the sound of the wind in the eaves, the bright wooden light fixtures above me,and my own difficulty staying awake as I reclined on the expansive grey-brown leather couch.Image: Entrance stairs to the library (Photocredit: Andreisky) bacause I couldn't find a shot of the couch itself.
I have a number of significant assesments this week, including an essay and three exams, so it is unlikely that I will find time to express anythign else in the same detail as this. You'll have to make do.
Hope all is well, world.
m'
Friday, 12 June 2009
Delayed
This post has been waiting for some time to be posted, in order to get the promised photographs from vodafone. I still haven't got them, but cannot hold off on posting any further.
My sister and I at the opera house after ther performance.
It’s Friday afternoon, I am sitting on a bus, and I think now is a perfect time to begin looking back on my week. A few interesting things have happened this week, including skydiving and performing at the opera house.
Last week, Friday afternoon, I was en route to uni when I was approached by the vodaphone marketing team; they wanted me to ‘make the most of now’. This involved climbing a ladder and jumping onto a massive foam mat. I know, it sounds fun right? Well, it is.
Note that these photos remain unavailable due to an ongoing dispute with vodafone; I will post the images here once the issue is resolved.
Quite a few weeks ago, I began learning an opera with an insane but brilliant conductor by the name of Karen. This consisted of two sessions maybe an hour each of trying to figure out what the words were, and having a brief look at the tune, and an even briefer look at the timing. That was about 15 weeks ago. Two weeks ago we had another rehearsal, involving the choir en masse, followed by a rehearsal with the orchestra. Days later, we were doing our final rehearsal at the opera house, ready for a major performance.
To cut an (extremely) long story short, the show went off without a hitch, although I was reading much of the words, tune and timing straight off the score.
For those of you who know about such things (I certainly don’t) the opera was Aida, by Verde; though I only did The Triumphal March. Also, for those interested, I was a bass two (The lower of the two bass parts).
My sister and I at the opera house after ther performance.
In mildly annoying news, I secured a contract for work this past week and next. Unfortunately I had to take leave on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday for uni, and then when I found out about the opera house performance, Tuesday also. To add to this, next Monday is a public holiday. That makes a two week contract into a five day one. Today being the first day, I went in and got busy, only to find out halfway through the day that I had been hired by mistake; of course they let me work today, and thankfully also next Tuesday, but probably not the rest off the week. This is a shame for my bank account, but probably pretty good for my exams the week following. (Edit: I ended up working 12 hours on Tuesday, and working a full day also on Wednesday. I know this isn't very interesting to y'all, but I get so little work here that every bit makes a difference!)
In other, better news, I may have more work there later (with my own ‘office’, too).
Sunday, 31 May 2009
Out of date
As I write this, I am sitting on a train on my way to see Dylan Moran. I left only realised the time (I was yet to pack, clean the house, get changed, go to the station, buy a ticket etc.) about 10–15 minutes before the last train left. I managed it.
But now think I should write something about the incident currently occurring:
Firstly I’ll make reference to my previous post about north shore girls on trains (Oh. My. God. Like, so totally fall–out–boy). These people made me want to leave the north shore to avoid having to listen to them. I’m on the train now that goes to Newcastle, and experiencing some conversation from the local equivalent. Less American teeny bopper trash, more bogan trailer trash.
But now think I should write something about the incident currently occurring:
Firstly I’ll make reference to my previous post about north shore girls on trains (Oh. My. God. Like, so totally fall–out–boy). These people made me want to leave the north shore to avoid having to listen to them. I’m on the train now that goes to Newcastle, and experiencing some conversation from the local equivalent. Less American teeny bopper trash, more bogan trailer trash.
Anyhow; a few minutes ago a sulphurous smell began to permeate the carriage. The smell was not unusual for trains, but was stronger than the norm’, but nothing too unbearable. The smell hung for a few minutes before either of these girls noticed, but once they did: (Stops playing with belly button ring) “Oh fuck me, I’m gonna’ spew, and I ain’t kidding..” The conversation then began about the nature of the odour, and soon myself and the engineering student next to me began to discuss an even more concerning point: the carriage is slowly beginning to fill with smoke…
It is Saturday, and today I have started my major essay for Education. It is due on Monday, and tonight I’m going to Newcastle, then tomorrow I have rehearsals for this opera house production. I think this time I may have procrastinated a little too much.
Ok, quite some time has passed, and all of that is out of date. The story on the train finishes with no train explosion, but there is an interesting conclusion which would be drawn (if I could find the motivation to type it up) about a the return journey, and my spreading hatred of the north shore. Suffice to leave it with you reading aloud from the screen in the slowest and whiniest drawl you can possibly summon:
“Yaaa, so, like you Daaad. He would’ thort I was like a real intelligent girl and shit, like with lotsa oppurtunities and that hey. Then as soon as he found out we was like heroin addicts he just like didn’t want anything to do with me hay?”
Coming soon:
Hopefully some photos of me skidiving on Friday, and some reflection on the interesting drama due to unfold at the opera house over the next few days.
Tuesday, 7 April 2009
In reverse chronological order
Firstly, a letter I just sent to the Australian Government Senate Inquiry on Climate Change:
I have been intensely sick lately. Really, unable to get out of bed for many many hours of the day (and not due to just liking the warmth like normal). I am on God knows how many drugs, I have no idea what half of them do (or what they actually are...), but I guess it seems to be helping a little now (since I'm sitting at my desk typing, without dying).
Anyhow, last night on the train on my way home, at about a quater to nine, I was sitting reading the daily PT atocity (MX) with Monty (a guy from my maths course at uni), when the train came to an unusually abrupt halt. An extremely paniced female voice came over the announ
cement system, imploring that we immediately evacuate the train in a calm an orderly but immediate manner, byttravelling toward the read of the train until the doors no longer opened out onto tunnel walls.
Typically, such a situation would have been most exciting; but as I could barely breathe to begin with, ambling down a freezing breezy tunnel full of microparticulate filth contaminating my lungs held less appeal that it would otherwise have done.
Monday morning on the bus:
I was sitting on the rail that only some busses have, surrounding the little baggage pit adjacent the rear door. I felt my left thigh begin to vibrate, looked down, and noticed the handbag of girl next to me resting on my leg. (I know what you're thinking, and you're not right.) I got her attention to let her know that her phone was ringing, but reaslised she was already on the phone. Of course, she couldn't possibly have two phones, right? That would just be wierd. Anyhow, turns out she did have two, but it wasn't her second phone vibrating. Turns out, I actually had two phones in my left pocket. Wierd huh? It makes me wonder, how many more phones are there than people in this country? I know I have at least half a dozen mobile phones. Why? Who knows. But with so many people having swish new phones, clearly their previous devices have been discarded (most likely into a drawer like all of mine). Anyhow, that's just what I was thinkin'. No point intended, but I guess I could say this: If YOU have an old phone, stick it on Crailist. Seriously; it's a good idea.
Note that I have chosen to retract the following statement in it's entirity, and my decision was in no way influenced by the Amazon.com legal department.
But still, it's times like these that Minties don't help, and I wish html still considered strikethrough worthy of universal support.
Well, that's it for another installment. I think I'm going to brave the cold and go get some noodles and cottage cheese. And maybe some salt flavour chips. I'll leave you with an announcement from the twit of the guy who writes this blog, letting us know that he:
We all know that PV (Photovoltaic) technology is being effectively utilised around the world, and that our great big slab of land is ideally placed to utilise this technology, right beneath a tropic.Australia not only lies in the ideal position geographically to utilise the technology, but also has some of the worlds leading PV research facilities. Proper government funding should be pumped into both research (creating perfect green collar jobs) and implementation (note that unlike the ridiculous 'clean coal' phallacy, PV exists, and can actually be implemented now).
Even if the government refuses to make any realistic effort to help solar, they could at least stop actively hindering it by subsidising filthy fossil fuel powered generators, and redirect that money into our shameful health or education systems.
Seriously, it's a good idea.
Regards,
Michael Kelly
Photocredit: Clearly Ambiguous
I have been intensely sick lately. Really, unable to get out of bed for many many hours of the day (and not due to just liking the warmth like normal). I am on God knows how many drugs, I have no idea what half of them do (or what they actually are...), but I guess it seems to be helping a little now (since I'm sitting at my desk typing, without dying).
Anyhow, last night on the train on my way home, at about a quater to nine, I was sitting reading the daily PT atocity (MX) with Monty (a guy from my maths course at uni), when the train came to an unusually abrupt halt. An extremely paniced female voice came over the announ
cement system, imploring that we immediately evacuate the train in a calm an orderly but immediate manner, byttravelling toward the read of the train until the doors no longer opened out onto tunnel walls.Typically, such a situation would have been most exciting; but as I could barely breathe to begin with, ambling down a freezing breezy tunnel full of microparticulate filth contaminating my lungs held less appeal that it would otherwise have done.
Monday morning on the bus:
I was sitting on the rail that only some busses have, surrounding the little baggage pit adjacent the rear door. I felt my left thigh begin to vibrate, looked down, and noticed the handbag of girl next to me resting on my leg. (I know what you're thinking, and you're not right.) I got her attention to let her know that her phone was ringing, but reaslised she was already on the phone. Of course, she couldn't possibly have two phones, right? That would just be wierd. Anyhow, turns out she did have two, but it wasn't her second phone vibrating. Turns out, I actually had two phones in my left pocket. Wierd huh? It makes me wonder, how many more phones are there than people in this country? I know I have at least half a dozen mobile phones. Why? Who knows. But with so many people having swish new phones, clearly their previous devices have been discarded (most likely into a drawer like all of mine). Anyhow, that's just what I was thinkin'. No point intended, but I guess I could say this: If YOU have an old phone, stick it on Crailist. Seriously; it's a good idea.
Note that I have chosen to retract the following statement in it's entirity, and my decision was in no way influenced by the Amazon.com legal department.
In conclusion, not that it relates to anything else here, if you are purchasing music online (i.e.: Not pirating for a change) try Amazon's online music service. They didn't pay me to plug them (bastards), and also I have not used them... But, you already have an Amazon account (oh come on, everybody has bought something on Amazon at some stage), the prices are often better than iTunes (or at worst the difference is negligible), and most importantly, you get the music in MP3 format, which (while not the highest quality) is practically universal (though still technically propeitary). That is, you pay for the music, then you get to put it on your computer, your iPod, your non-apple branded MP3 player, a CD etc etc. (Rather than iTunes, where you pay for it, and can play it only through their own player, and only on their portable music device).
Let me know how you go,
All I've heard is good news.
But still, it's times like these that Minties don't help, and I wish html still considered strikethrough worthy of universal support.
Well, that's it for another installment. I think I'm going to brave the cold and go get some noodles and cottage cheese. And maybe some salt flavour chips. I'll leave you with an announcement from the twit of the guy who writes this blog, letting us know that he:
invented a new smoothie flavour:
"Cherry Children's Tylenol, Tears, Gin and Mylanta".
"Cherry Children's Tylenol, Tears, Gin and Mylanta".
Get well soon (just in case you, too, are sick)
M'
M'
Thursday, 26 March 2009
A few Conversational Snippets
Snippets of conversation can be bizarre.
The folks next to me appear to have just met, and in the time I've been sitting here, they have discovered that she has, at her 21st, hooked up with his cousin. And she sounds like a Queenslander.
This morning, during the extremely long wait for the bus, I heard a discussion between two girls that went something like this:
"My arms get sore, after like, 4 hours of playing the drums.
Oh, do you play the drums?
Ya, I'm pretty good.
Oh wow, I only play guitar. How good are you on the drums?
Well, I can go really well, but only on easy.
Ya, I was going to play the guitar yesterday, but the batteries were dead. I had to plug it back into the console."
Definitely the most annoying voice, and the one most commonly heard causing unpleasant train trips for all on the north shore and western line, is the heavily american influenced 'North Shore Girls" accent. The one I like to think of as almost always saying:
"Ohmygod, like totally, fallout boy. No way, really? Fallout boy? Oh. My. God. Fallout boy." etc
I simply cannot stand it. Often I simply leave the carriage is search of somewhere more peaceful; be it quiet, other general babble, or drunken shouting and abuse. Anything is better than that voice.
One particular quote I heard at NIDA the other night (when it was not lit up nicely like in the pic) was in that very voice:
"I know, it's like, I totally can't stand american accents. Like, British ones are just totally so hot, but oh-my-god, I can't stand like american accents; you know?"
I could barely stop myself from telling them. Luckily my politeness got the better of my urge to share the irony.
Recently I heard about an hour of a conversation, right here, where I'm currently sitting, on this very couch on Level 10 of UNSW Library tower. The discussion, when I sat down, went something like this:
"So, your baby is 18 months old. He was breastfed for the first 6 months, then he went onto formula. He isn't on any medication and has been brought up in a non-smoking environment. He had a rash at around 12 months old, but it cleared up with medication from the hospital. Has he been to the hospital any other times?"
This conversation continued in a similar vein for about half an hour, and I thought perhaps they were adopting. At this point however, the roles changed, and the mother started asking her interrogator questions about her child. It took me some time to figure out: they were nursing students, doing role plays.
Sorry that story is anti climatic, I found it so as well, and wished to share my disappointment when I figured it out.
Anyhow, I have things to do, and should probably stop procrastinating and get on with my work.
Take care,
M'
The folks next to me appear to have just met, and in the time I've been sitting here, they have discovered that she has, at her 21st, hooked up with his cousin. And she sounds like a Queenslander.
This morning, during the extremely long wait for the bus, I heard a discussion between two girls that went something like this:
"My arms get sore, after like, 4 hours of playing the drums.
Oh, do you play the drums?
Ya, I'm pretty good.
Oh wow, I only play guitar. How good are you on the drums?
Well, I can go really well, but only on easy.
Ya, I was going to play the guitar yesterday, but the batteries were dead. I had to plug it back into the console."
Definitely the most annoying voice, and the one most commonly heard causing unpleasant train trips for all on the north shore and western line, is the heavily american influenced 'North Shore Girls" accent. The one I like to think of as almost always saying:
"Ohmygod, like totally, fallout boy. No way, really? Fallout boy? Oh. My. God. Fallout boy." etc
I simply cannot stand it. Often I simply leave the carriage is search of somewhere more peaceful; be it quiet, other general babble, or drunken shouting and abuse. Anything is better than that voice.
One particular quote I heard at NIDA the other night (when it was not lit up nicely like in the pic) was in that very voice:
"I know, it's like, I totally can't stand american accents. Like, British ones are just totally so hot, but oh-my-god, I can't stand like american accents; you know?"
I could barely stop myself from telling them. Luckily my politeness got the better of my urge to share the irony.
Recently I heard about an hour of a conversation, right here, where I'm currently sitting, on this very couch on Level 10 of UNSW Library tower. The discussion, when I sat down, went something like this:"So, your baby is 18 months old. He was breastfed for the first 6 months, then he went onto formula. He isn't on any medication and has been brought up in a non-smoking environment. He had a rash at around 12 months old, but it cleared up with medication from the hospital. Has he been to the hospital any other times?"
This conversation continued in a similar vein for about half an hour, and I thought perhaps they were adopting. At this point however, the roles changed, and the mother started asking her interrogator questions about her child. It took me some time to figure out: they were nursing students, doing role plays.
Sorry that story is anti climatic, I found it so as well, and wished to share my disappointment when I figured it out.
Anyhow, I have things to do, and should probably stop procrastinating and get on with my work.
Take care,
M'
Friday, 20 March 2009
With some urgency
Please do sign the above petition. Hopefully I'll see you at the rally tommorow on the lawn of parliment house in the ACT.
Today I forgot my iPod, so I'm on the train listening to music on my laptop (with headphones). It is for this reason that I've found time to post.
An aside before I so even start; I recently joined the microblogging Twitter subculture.
I was in an educational psychology lecture; these are a very slow kind of lectrure that crawls along, turning slow circles such that over the course of an hour, nothing is really said, but unrealted examples are given. The lady sitting next to me distainfully pointed out one student who last lecture sat infront of her with his laptop charger plugged into the presenters concole, microblogging his way through the lecture on twitter.
At this point, I decided I should get a Twitter account, as I thought microblogging lectures was a great idea.
Due to a restriction on the number of characters, I couldn't get surroundsound5000 as my Twitter name, so I had to go with Surround5000.
Anyhow, Twittering is just like status updates on Facebook, but without the Facebook attatched. It seems to me a little silly to be randomly changing your status; to quote Adam Hills:
"Barry is at the Adam Hills show."
"Barry is laughing."
"Barry has stopped laughing."
"Noone likes barry."
It's a lot like that.
Finally, I was in Chatswood today, and noticed they have expanded their parking restrictions, but this is one for the better. In Chatswood Westfield, along with the Disabled parking and the Prams priority parking, they now have Hybrid vehicle only parking. I think it's a fantastic idea. In application, it's probably fairly pointless (if hybrid owners park in the convenient locations, and drivers of inneficient vehicles have to drive to the top level and lap the parking lot looking for a spot), but the idea is definately sound.
Also, if anyone has tips to improve my samosas, I'd appreciate them. Currently they're a little bland.
Peace,
M'
Friday, 13 March 2009
Backlog
It has been a very long time since I posted last. This is not because I have had nothing to post about. Far from it. My life has effectively started afesh. The reasons for my lack of posting are twofold: I have had an ideas backlog that became so large I simply couldn't think what to write first, (and couldn't put in day to day updates for the lack of chronology) and secondly I haven't had the time.
I have scribbled a few things down, and now is probably the time to get them out.
From (I think) late last year (Written on my phone):
I have never liked Newcastle as a city.
It is only because everyone I speak to seems to think it is so nice that I even considered living here. Every time I come, I remember how sad town it is.
Today has been a typical newcastlo day. It is too hot, I an bored and hungry, I have wandered aimlessly for most of The day, and I cannot find out the info I came for.
I was sitting on some steps when I saw a sign fall over, and felt so dejected by the atmosphere of the town that I simply let it fall . I didn't move to pick it up until I saw someone else struggling. When I helped him, neither he nor I said a word to each other. I fear this seems to typify the town. In fact, I have been here for a few hours now, and not one person has said a single word. Now, I an beginning to wonder; is this really where I want to live?
As a result of this boring day, I decided I'll be moving to Sydney. See you there.
If you are searching for love: this is not the way.
In the past few weeks, I have seen a few good bands, a few good comedians, and a few good movies.
The bands include Grinspoon, Old Man River and The Herd, amongst many others. I really need to get back into the habit of bringing my camera to gigs. This post is long and boring without photographic interjection.
One of the comedians was Wil Anderson, who gave a hopelessly underwhelming show. Another was Adam Hills, who'se show was one of the best I've seen. There were others who were generally either good or bad or good and then bad. I'd like to go into detail, but I'm too tired, so I'll leave it at that.
As for movies, I saw Spike Lee's "Do The Right Thing" last on Monday (which left me desperately craving pizza), and last night saw two more films. One was "The International", which has one of the best action sequences of any film I've seen, and overall makes for reasonable mindless viewing. The other was NOTORIOUS, which was more interesting than I expected, but I didn't expect much.
Also since moving to Sydney, I got a job doing odd jobs and helping out in an office (on a two day contract, which then became three weeks - egad I'm good), finished up there, and now have a part time job. I'm contractually bound in confidentiallity, so I best not post details on the interweb.
Well that should get the ball rolling again.
I feel I just needed to get started and maybe now I'll be able to get posting more frequently.
Take care,
Carpe Diem (We all need that subtle reminder once in a while),
M'
I have scribbled a few things down, and now is probably the time to get them out.
From (I think) late last year (Written on my phone):
I have never liked Newcastle as a city.
It is only because everyone I speak to seems to think it is so nice that I even considered living here. Every time I come, I remember how sad town it is.
Today has been a typical newcastlo day. It is too hot, I an bored and hungry, I have wandered aimlessly for most of The day, and I cannot find out the info I came for.
I was sitting on some steps when I saw a sign fall over, and felt so dejected by the atmosphere of the town that I simply let it fall . I didn't move to pick it up until I saw someone else struggling. When I helped him, neither he nor I said a word to each other. I fear this seems to typify the town. In fact, I have been here for a few hours now, and not one person has said a single word. Now, I an beginning to wonder; is this really where I want to live?
As a result of this boring day, I decided I'll be moving to Sydney. See you there.
If you are searching for love: this is not the way.
In the past few weeks, I have seen a few good bands, a few good comedians, and a few good movies.
The bands include Grinspoon, Old Man River and The Herd, amongst many others. I really need to get back into the habit of bringing my camera to gigs. This post is long and boring without photographic interjection.
One of the comedians was Wil Anderson, who gave a hopelessly underwhelming show. Another was Adam Hills, who'se show was one of the best I've seen. There were others who were generally either good or bad or good and then bad. I'd like to go into detail, but I'm too tired, so I'll leave it at that.
As for movies, I saw Spike Lee's "Do The Right Thing" last on Monday (which left me desperately craving pizza), and last night saw two more films. One was "The International", which has one of the best action sequences of any film I've seen, and overall makes for reasonable mindless viewing. The other was NOTORIOUS, which was more interesting than I expected, but I didn't expect much.
Also since moving to Sydney, I got a job doing odd jobs and helping out in an office (on a two day contract, which then became three weeks - egad I'm good), finished up there, and now have a part time job. I'm contractually bound in confidentiallity, so I best not post details on the interweb.
Well that should get the ball rolling again.
I feel I just needed to get started and maybe now I'll be able to get posting more frequently.
Take care,
Carpe Diem (We all need that subtle reminder once in a while),
M'
Friday, 16 January 2009
Thought for the day
OK, here’s my thought for the day. I was at the new kebaberrie in town (they just got a new one of those tools they use for cutting "the finest cuts of chicken" from the big spinnin' stick) enjoying my vegetarian gozleme, when two law enforcement officers entered, just after a kebab and a salad. It interests me how everyone becomes uncomfortable around police. This is the question that arose:
Why is it necessary when one goes to purchase a kebab, to arm oneself with a firearm, a taser, handcuffs, a baton, a combat knife, a gas grenade, amongst other things? And why must this arsenal be strapped to oneself in a 5 inch think braided leather belt?
It seems that our police officers go to lunch dressed as if going to war. I think the tension this causes contributes negatively to their image in the community. How can they expect to maintain good public relations when they cause such unrest with their mere presence? It is no accident that they are perceived as such threatening members of society.
Two posts in two days. Wow. How unlike me. Also: the gozleme was quite tasty. I've had better i probably will stick to the ones with spinach and avoid the less specific "veggies" from now on.
Over,
M'
Why is it necessary when one goes to purchase a kebab, to arm oneself with a firearm, a taser, handcuffs, a baton, a combat knife, a gas grenade, amongst other things? And why must this arsenal be strapped to oneself in a 5 inch think braided leather belt?
It seems that our police officers go to lunch dressed as if going to war. I think the tension this causes contributes negatively to their image in the community. How can they expect to maintain good public relations when they cause such unrest with their mere presence? It is no accident that they are perceived as such threatening members of society.
Two posts in two days. Wow. How unlike me. Also: the gozleme was quite tasty. I've had better i probably will stick to the ones with spinach and avoid the less specific "veggies" from now on.
Over,
M'
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