Eric TF Bat's Journal

Lazyweb: Legal TV Downloads?

Sat, 28 Nov 2009 04:01:25 GMT

If I want to watch a TV show, say House Of Cards starring Ian Richardson, I can do so easily: go to a bittorrent site, download a torrent that's being seeded, and away I go. I'm doing that right now, and it's a bit slow but it will get there.

However, this is technically illegal. You know, like stealing someone's car while simultaneously leaving it unstolen for them to continue to own or something. So what do I do instead?

Video stores might have copies, but as it happens the ones near me don't, or didn't a couple of years ago and there's no reason why that would change.

I might be able to borrow it from a friend, but this has a downside, which is this: it doesn't get any money back to the people who produced the show. If I'm going to watch something legally, I'd rather pay for it so that people involved get some feedback that they can benefit from. Well, except Sir Ian, who is sadly beyond the reach of royalty cheques. Also, I don't know which of my friends has a copy.

I looked at the iTunes store. It seems to only work if you install something called "iTunes" into some other thing called "Windows". No idea what that means. I looked in the Ubuntu Add/Remove Programs list but there's no iTunes there. Clearly they're not ready for the desktop.

I looked at Amazon. They can "rent" episodes to me for $1.99 each, which is excellent... but they require that you speak to them from some place called the USA, which everyone knows is just a TV set (that's why any American you mean sounds like a TV character, don't you know) so again it's not really functional in the Real World.

I googled "legal downloads", but whenever people ask about that, they get pointed to one of the above, or else to more bittorrent sites. "Legal" is a grey area on teh intartubes, I guess.

So I'll carry on downloading. If the people who want my money can't make it easy for me to give it to them, then I won't. Give me a way to pay them, and I will do so gladly, but if you expect me to jump through stupid hoops, then it's clear you don't have the concept of capitalism quite sorted out in your brain, and why would I pay you to remain confused?

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Yay!

Fri, 27 Nov 2009 11:56:59 GMT

My family have returned home. Yay! Lots of cuddles! The Boy Wonder is going to sleep in the spare room with his Daddy so his Mummy can get the first night of uninterrupted sleep since, oh, about 2004. He went to sleep pretty quickly after dinner, which is no great surprise. He was very happy to be home, but all the soul lag caught up with him and he went clunk. Meanwhile, the BatPup had a bath and a story (all about moving to Tasmania and seeing snow) and I sang her some songs and she clunked too.

Now, of course, I am sitting in the living room with my Beloved, and we are both blatting away on laptops. How romantic! Must put "Spend Quality Time With Beloved" in my Google Calendar; I think I have a free fifteen seconds the July after next.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Our Long National Nightmare Of Clean Floors And Uninterrupted Sleep Is Nearly Over

Thu, 26 Nov 2009 08:59:21 GMT

The Beloved called from Guildford, to ask me to book a hotel about an hour and a half from there. I picked Heathcote, and arranged it all by phone, so I expect they're there and settled in by now. That means, barring any unfortunate diversions, I should be coming home to a noisy, messy, cuddle-filled house tomorrow. Yay!

Whereupon, I fully expect, thelancrewitch will barely stop to say g'day before she heads out the door and has TIME OFF for the first time in too bloody long. But at least I'll have monkey cuddles, so there's that.

I didn't get much cleaning or anything else done. Evenings of sitting around veging, then going to bed earlyish (for me) and still waking up tired. I think it's the change in the weather, or just a lack of familiarity with the concept of deep sleep. Never mind; it's not a concept I need to learn any time soon.

Political update: there don't seem to have been any more aggravatingly inexplicable decisions for two days now. Letters are being written to the appropriate people through the appropriate channels, with calm and reasoned arguments presented plainly. Things will happen in their own time. I shall sit and wait, and hope I don't feel inspired to song or nailgunning by anything else I hear.

I am pleased, however, that I quit the Shambles when I did. A chap was on there proclaiming his right to post messages without trimming the quotes, declaring that the wishes of digest-users and people on slow connections must be secondary to his own right to, I don't know, post quickly without thinking or something. He was happily accusing everyone who disagrees with him, including the List Boss, of discourtesy, which is the right-wing SCAdian frootloop's equivalent of socialism or Nazism. He seems to have accidentally picked up the idea that mailing lists are democracies; I assume the List Boss has killfiled him by now, but I'm glad I wasn't there to see it or he'd have taken a couple of barrels of concentrated vitriol from me and his loved ones, if he has any, would be off to Kennards for a mop and a microscope to pick up the pieces. I won't say his name, but if you hear me henceforth referring to some arrogant entitlement-queening bastard as a total and utter wendell, you'll know why.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Clarification

Wed, 25 Nov 2009 10:32:00 GMT

Ordinarily, I have no trouble with comments here. I have a bunch of regular readers, and the occasional blow-in. The blow-ins have often been very worthwhile; we bought our car on the recommendation, at least partly, of an anonymous commenter here. So that's good. But since I've been ranting here, fairly obliquely, on the subject of some particularly egregious stupidities in one of my social circles, I've been seeing a new class of blow-in: people who don't normally pop by, and who seem to have been blown here by some very ill winds indeed. (I can guess whence the winds emanate too, but let's not get scatological, hmmm?) So I need to clarify one or two points.

This is my blog. I own it. I even pay for it. What I say here is generally googled, usually within a few minutes of me writing it (check it out!), so I make sure to avoid the use of googlable keywords. Of course, if you went looking for the name of large waterfowl in conjunction with insulting terms about medieval heads of state, I might show up on, you know, the first link you found ("I'm Feeling Lucky"?) but that's a risk we must take.

The point is: I self-censor what I write for one audience member, and that's the great and powerful Google. If you can read between the lines, you'll understand a little more, but Google can't (yet!) so it's a compromise that works for me.

Now: I don't know both sides of any particular story, but I know pretty much all of one side of this one, and possibly more of the other side than anyone else on this side. That's why, when people I don't know pop in and demand that I shush, or even when people I do know state that I'm not following the correct procedures and I should be more circumspect, I can really only respond with a snort and a few choice monosyllables.

(Besides: in my recent experience, following grievance procedures and knowing the rules inside and out gets you reprimanded or worse. If I had any aspirations to high office, I'd take the proven path of doing nothing at all while everything around me goes to hell. You can't argue with a good example.)

I will continue to speak. You are welcome to dislike it, and to argue. I already censor myself exactly as much as I need, so your invitations to exercise restraint will be bit-bucketed. But if you want to take a chance to explain your view of anything at all, you know where to find me.

And let me throw in another point. There are four (so far) people involved in causing the current pains -- one of them apparently only peripherally, by marriage as it were -- and it would be a lot easier to hate them if I didn't really really like them. Without the insanities of the past year and especially the past couple of months, I would have called them dear friends. Now, all I see of them is the behaviour that has attacked several of my friends, without reason or provocation, and with apparently dark agendas and nasty, nasty motivations. I want to understand what they're thinking, but while I remain incandescent with rage I don't trust myself to approach them directly.

So here, in my private, personal space, I let off steam. And then, when I'm feeling calmer -- and when, gods willing, a whole week goes by without another atrocity -- I will take the proper steps, follow the accredited procedure, and also communicate with my friends and tell them that I do care for them very much as people, even if as holders of certain ranks and office I lately find them to suck chunky radioactive dogs' balls.

Clear?

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Cryptic, Eh?

Tue, 24 Nov 2009 09:57:59 GMT

The Stupid continues apace in the matters I've alluded to in song recently. Ever notice how, just when you think someone can't be more idiotic and bull-headed than they have been, they prove you wrong? I'm usually an optimist, so I have to learn unfamiliar ways of thought to deal with this. What will they stuff up tomorrow? What is left to stuff up? Surely they're running out of options? I hope so, but I'm not convinced.

Am consequently working hard on divesting myself of all responsibilities in that area. I won't continue to be involved with the organisation while people like that are in charge. Some of them will be gone relatively soon, but for a few of them it's a couple of years before they have to take the golden handshake. So I'll stick with the tasks that mean something to me, and ditch the rest. Thankfully I have volunteers to take them on.

Meanwhile, I have a quiet and empty house to tidy. Easter is the 4th of April next year; that's a deadline of a different kind, but it helps put things into perspective. With great optimism comes great good luck. Let's see how that goes.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

My Mother Is Not Paranoid After All!

Mon, 23 Nov 2009 23:25:28 GMT

My Mother's birthday is April 17, and she always used to say that Good Friday fell on that day entirely too often. This is a serious matter for a practising Catholic, since one is not supposed to have fun on the day Our Lord Jeepers Crikey was ~~justly executed by the administrators of the region for clearly demonstrated sedition and terrorism~~ cruelly crucified. So her birthday used to be ruined.

I assumed, of course, that she was mad as a hatter.

But I looked it up. From the Wikipedia article on Easter:

Accordingly, Gregorian Easter can fall on 35 possible dates - between March 22 and April 25 inclusive. It last fell on March 22 in 1818, and will not do so again until 2285. It fell on March 23 in 2008, but will not do so again until 2160. Easter last fell on the latest possible date, April 25, in 1943 and will next fall on that date in 2038. However, it will fall on April 24, just one day before this latest possible date, in 2011. The cycle of Easter dates repeats after exactly 5,700,000 years, with April 19 being the most common date, happening 220,400 times or 3.9%, compared to the median for all dates of 189,525 times or 3.3%.

Since the 19th is the most common date for Easter Sunday, it follows immediately that the 17th is the most common date for Good Friday. And checking another online list, we find that Good Friday fell on my Mum's birthday in 1981, 1987 and 1992 (though I wasn't there for the last one; that's the year I first attended Rowany Festival).

So she's not mad after all!

Well, she is... but not about this.

Good news is: the next time God will ruin my Mother's birthday is the year 2071. She'll probably be too old to worry about it by then. So that's all right.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

The Queen and the Soldier

Mon, 23 Nov 2009 11:52:00 GMT

This song used to irritate me, because on the face of it it's a soldier showing unconscionable disrespect to his undoubted Queen. But now that I'm older, and I've had a bit of practice deciding which Queens and Kings I respect, I love it.

I was reminded of its existence because a jazz duo called Swinging Both Ways do a cover, and since that duo happen to be the people we stayed with briefly on Sunday, and they gave us a copy of their CD, I've been listening to it. I like Kimba's voice better than Suzanne Vega's in this song, if that's possible.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Jiggidy-Jog

Sun, 22 Nov 2009 10:15:37 GMT

Woke up at 5.40 to the sound of the Purser or Stewardess or Ship's Cook And Porcupine or whoever the hell she was, who explained that we would be all expected to get into our cars shortly. "Ha!" I said to myself and got the rest of the family up, whereupon we made excellent time getting down to the car and were still late enough (at 6.35 when unloading was due to start at 6.30) that we were holding up the traffic behind us. Hey ho; we all got out double-quick and all was well.

Then it was up to our good friend Sean to get us within range of the place we were visiting that morning, whereupon we exercised our already well-honed cafe-detecting skills and found an excellent cafe whose name escapes me (go read thelancrewitch's blog and she'll probably mention it). Our newly-vegetarian EDoD nearly wept with joy at the mention of scrambled tofu on toast! We ate spectacularly, as is usual for our holiday and especially for Melbourne, then went and visited the Beloved's inordinately spunky friends K and R and their cute boys.

R gave me a lift to a shuttle bus stop, whereupon I got to the airport and into the air without incident. A slightly bumpy flight home, a detour to pick up comics and a taxi ride for the last leg because Canberra buses are shite on weekends, and I was home.

And now that I've downloaded and watched the latest Doctor Who and Heroes eps and had turkish pizza for dinner (with enough there for the next three dinners at least) I find myself quite... lonely. After two weeks of constant interaction with my evil babies, the thought of having an entire house to myself with only a senile wailing cat for company strikes me as thoroughly undesirable. I think I shall have an early night.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Tasmania: Lessons Learned

Sat, 21 Nov 2009 10:38:40 GMT

Here's what I've learned as a consequence of spending two weeks in close proximity to my family while travelling to, around and from ~~the South Island~~Tasmania:

Sanity is much improved if we ensure that our monkeys get time each day to play on a playground or run around on a beach. This shall be remembered forever, because the difference is like chalk and cheese, or perhaps like chalk and a different kind of chalk made of a combination of weapons-grade Plutonium, sulphuric acid and a shopping bag full of Tasmanian devils on crack.

As mentioned yesterday, taking one day in seven, or even one in five, to just veg out and flump in a heap also seems to help a lot, for all of us. We usually, in the course of our normal lives, get a chance to take "me" time every now and then, but when we're all together in a strange place it's less likely unless we make it happen on purpose.

For the above reason, I nominate lunch with baronsnorri as one of the highlights of this holiday. The majority of sane, honest and non-bugfuck-crazy SCAdians make up for the small number who have been ruining things for friends of mine recently.

The highlight for the munchkins was very likely either the zoo or the all-access playground we went to in Hobart. Even with all the exotic stuff to do, sometimes just doing kid-focused stuff is what you need.

Any problem that can be solved by throwing money at it isn't really a problem, provided you have money. That's why we weren't unduly stressed about the radiator dying: there was a damn good mechanic who made the problem go away in return for a collection of Pineapple-Coloured Drinks Tokens, and so it wasn't really a problem.

When you go on holidays, budget much more than you could ever need for cafe lunches and take-away and all that silliness. Then eat cafe lunches and take-away and don't fret. You can get away with not doing this, but if you have sufficient funds to cover it, frugality on holiday is a silly thing. You don't need the stress of dinner planning and cooking on top of everything the Chaos Gods will throw at you as a matter of course.

Rumours have surfaced that it is possible to live without the internet. These rumours are spread by fools and liars and must be stamped out. Wireless broadband is your friend here, though net cafes, MacDonalds' free wi-fi and the interwebs of whoever you're staying with are your best bets here. (I'm writing this on one of the internet kiosk computers on the Spirit of Taswegia LXIX, which is quite tolerable once you get used to the non-functional Tab key. The Beloved is upstairs using her laptop and mobile broadband; I'd be doing the same but the BatPup is watching Monsters Inc on my laptop.)

Have a supply of Pixar movies on your laptop. Child-dosage sedatives were only invented for parents who don't follow this advice.

... And that will do, because I'm running out of coins. But it's enough to be going on with.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Lay Day

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 10:00:39 GMT

I think it should be a point of unshakeable policy in this family that every holiday should include a day of doing absolutely nothing about once a week. Like that "Sabbath" thing that one of those obscure bronze-age religious sects came up with. We spent today doing no touristy stuff at all, and we're all feeling much saner as a consequence. The Beloved went off and op-shopped in the morning, which is her idea of perfect me-time, then I went and chatted with baronsnorri over ricotta pancakes (me) and curry (him) at lunch, and then we did some light tidying and packing and generally just veg'd. Tonight we pigged out on excellent Indian food from Zaika on Sandy Bay Road, and enjoyed the cool change. It's been a lovely day.

Meanwhile, I'm getting ready for the wrench. Tomorrow we drive back to Devonport and catch the ferry. On Sunday, I fly back home from Melbourne. Then I have a week of work while the Beloved swans about meeting people and trying not to strangle our babies. Consolations: I can download the latest Doctor Who and also recent Heroes episodes, and catch up on my comics, and also have the rare experience of tidying the house and not needing to tidy it again five minutes later. But I'll have no cuddles from my babies or my Beloved, so it's a net loss really. But I'm glad thelancrewitch has the confidence to go off like this; it's good for her and our monkeys. And it won't be long, really...

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Hot Is In The Sweat Gland Of The Beholder

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 12:27:20 GMT

Right, enough singing about stuff that only a few people know the full story of (though not nearly as many as think they do, it is now apparent). Back to stories of travel, in a state containing no incompetence, dishonesty or smug, self-serving ignorance masquerading as diplomacy, other than in Parliament, where it belongs.

We were planning to head off to Port Arthur to steep our tired brains in a little history, but we balked at the thought of four hours of travel plus a lot of walking and munchkin-wrangling. The Beloved decided to stay home and fall in a heap, and I planned a more accessible day in Richmond, with a zoo, a maze and possibly a miniature village. The heap-fallen Beloved liked our plans so much that she decided to come along, so off we went.

The weather was warm, which, for the benefit of any Australians spontaneously combusting on the North Island, is Hobartian slang for nearly 30° with a pleasant breeze and no obvious humidity. Bliss, in other words. We wore our hats and wandered about looking at alpacas and emus and some very sleep Tasmanian devils. The Boy covered himself in ice cream and we generally had a lovely day.

Tonight involved a bit more melting down on the part of, well, everyone -- but we're getting better at dealing with that, and tomorrow's schedule heap-falling day will help a lot. I'm off to have lunch with baronsnorri, and then I was hoping to go along to Ynys Fawr's regular Friday get-together, but it seems the calendar is broken and I just now notice that it was on last Friday, not every Friday, so I guess I'll give it a miss! D'oh!

Off to Devonport and the Ferry on Saturday, then I catch a plane back to Canberra in time for a promised cool change, if the Bureau is to be trusted. The rest of the clan are off to meet tangent_woman and assorted other friends, and will be home in time for Brunch next Sunday.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

A Second Song Inspired By Recent Events

Wed, 18 Nov 2009 12:22:44 GMT

Inspired by a comment by my wife, that gets right to the heart of what's really wrong with the SCA. This is an original tune, so if you want to hear it, I'll have to sing it at you.

We Choose Our Kings

We live our lives in a secular democracy
Where freedom and equality
Are orders of the day.
But on weekends we plump for aristocracy,
A dreaming meritocracy
We call the SCA.

We grant acclaim for dedicated service:
You pull your weight for long enough
You get an AoA.
And if you work, the equal of a thesis,
An A&S award is how
We tell you you're OK.
Or if you shine at following instruction,
You can be local officer
And work your life away.

But we choose our Kings by their ability
To take repeated head blows
And not fall down.

We play this Game with absolute sincerity.
The sombrest sobriety
Accompanies our fun.
And when we find a renaissance celebrity
Of talent and integrity
We tell him he's the one.
We load him down with policy, propriety,
And all the stuff Society
Requires to be run.

But we choose our Kings by their ability
To take repeated head blows
And not fall down.

You take a chance, entrusting your activity
To any personality
Who hasn't passed the grade.
And that is why we assess their productivity,
And vet them well before any
Appointment can be made.
Important tasks, like sticking on a bandage
Or booking halls for tutelage,
Are measured out and weighed.

But we choose our Kings by their ability
To take repeated head blows
And not fall down.

Yes we choose our Kings by their ability
To take repeated head blows
And not fall down.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference~~, or here~~. (On second thoughts, don't. Having just seen the ignorant smugness indicated by someone who thinks she knows enough to comment on the matters informing this song, I choose to exercise my right of control over my own forum. Further attempts to belittle the experience of real human beings in the name of ironic courtesy will be treated with almost as much contempt as they deserve.)

A Song For A Friend

Tue, 17 Nov 2009 08:58:22 GMT

Breakfast At Dunning/Kruger's
To the tune of Breakfast At Tiffany's by Big Blue Something

You'll say we've been through the procedure,
Proceeding to departure:
It's high time we should part.
You'll give your earnest explanations
Regarding expectations --
Still somehow you don't seem sad.

And I said, "What about getting this work done?"
She said, "I'm sure we'll sort something out,
And as I recall someone told me it's easy."
And I said, "Well, that's clearly all right."

I see them, they're picking up the pieces,

An awful lot of pieces...
I guess they'll go on.
So what now? The sun is sweetly dying,
Oh but somewhere else it's rising,
There's so much more to be done.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

It's Raining, It's Pouring, The Old Bat Is... Waking Up Early To Drive To Hobart

Mon, 16 Nov 2009 10:18:30 GMT

I drove in to Hobart first thing this morning, to show my driver's license at the car hire place so the nice lass wouldn't get into trouble for not sighting it before hiring me a car. I also picked up the Beloved's phone, which had an LCD-related incident when we were in Melbourne. It's been raining on and off all day, so it was a good test of the typical Hobart/Huonville commute, and I have to say it's not nearly as nasty as I'd been led to believe. The Huon Highway, which our sadistic GPS doesn't believe in, makes it much easier: I certainly wouldn't want to do the Huon Road route in less than perfect conditions.

We went off to the Tahune Airwalk, but the rain would have made that unpleasant so we backtracked and checked out the Hastings Caves instead. I stayed aboveground with the Boy Wonder while the ovary-equipped members of our party descended slimy staircases by torchlight and went oooh at stalactites and stalagmites and other such denizens of the deep. Then we did a bit more driving around, and then came back to our motel room and made dinner, because all this cafe living is all well and good but I didn't marry the best cook I've ever met for nothing, you know!

We heard from the mechanic. New radiator, flushing the engine, replacing the various compounds (eye of newt, chunky custard with extra yak fat, etc) comes to a little under six hundred kangaroubles, which is tolerable. And it will all be ready tomorrow arvo, so our plans are not significantly affected and we've gained a valuable insight into the usefulness of four wheel drive vehicles, which will serve us well when or if we move here. I see one of those little Subaru 4WDs in our future, I think.

I'm batting around ideas for how to be self employed. I can resurrect Captain's Log and the idea I had for a web page maintenance service for little companies that could benefit from an internet presence. Not sure if we could live off any such income though, and there would be a lot of programming up front before it started being valuable. Not time to give up the job search yet, I think.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Notes On Tasmania

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 11:01:03 GMT

It's pleasantly chilly. I was cold last night, but I didn't bother adding an extra blanket because I wanted to remember the feeling for when I get back to the continent. I hear it's ranging between disgusting and repugnant up there. Not looking forward to finding out.

People here are evangelists. They all love spruiking Tasmania. Everywhere we go there's someone trying to convince us to move here. The Beloved believes this is so they can increase their property values; I suspect it's because they want to try to outnumber the rednecks but they can't get there by breeding because it takes too long.

Drivers are very polite. They wave if you let them into your lane. People standing by the side of the road wave too. Maybe we're just frequenting places that don't see many visitors? I don't know.

There are cyclists everywhere, but that may be because of some kind of fundraising thing that was happening this weekend. They ride up hills that I'd think twice about driving up.

Four wheel drives are useful beasts on the aforementioned hills. I'm glad our temporary hire car is a 4WD, even if that automatically makes us wankers.

The food is astonishing. We went to the Contented Bear cafe tonight and I had lamb shanks cooked by the former head chef of the Carrington. It was incredible. And then I had dessert that was even better. And all the food at all the cafes has been amazing, with the solitary exception of the greasy scrambled eggs at a cafe in Hobart a couple of mornings ago. It's funny: Melbourne produces nothing of any value but has foodie cred out the wazoo; Queensland is a food basket but all the restaurants are average-going-on-meh (though the quantities are good); I assumed the places that produce food were the ones that didn't know how to cook it. Tasmania wrecks that theory.

They all pronounce "Devonshire tea" as "Devon Shire tea" here. That's weird.

We went to the Huon Show yesterday. All the little redneck kiddies had elaborate plastic guns. There was some kind of showbag or something. Why???

This part of the world is all rednecks and hippies. The rednecks are gun nuts; the hippies are obsessed with naturopathy and aromatherapy and other such clueless woo. I still prefer the hippies: homeopathy, unlike guns, can only kill you if you were already sick...

The GPS that we borrowed from friends in Launceston was clearly programmed to make Huonville look bad, by deliberately navigating me by the twisty-turny Huon Road, instead of the straight and wide Huon Highway. Luckily we remembered in time today, and avoided believing it.

We want to live here. But I'd need a job. I've worked for myself before, and I'm a crap boss. So where do I get a job? It's a quandary.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Huon Ho!

Sat, 14 Nov 2009 08:18:41 GMT

The day improved dramatically once we had a car. We've found a mechanic who we can drop the Mazda off with, and who thinks it should be all fixed by Tuesday arvo. We went to the Huon Show, which the BatPup and the Boy Wonder loved without reservation. I think it will stand as the highlight of their entire holiday, in fact. Then we drove around Huon and checked out stuff. A much more relaxed day and consequently less argumentative all round. I suspect our dastardly EDoD is more of an empath than I give her credit for (I give her credit for being an autistic paranoid sociopath with a hair fetish, so she'd have to be, really) because she always picks up our stress levels and bounces them back.

Tomorrow it's off to Port Huon. We love this place! If only there were such a thing as a job market...

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Living In The Future: An Occasional Series

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 22:18:25 GMT

My personal communicator woke me at 6 this morning, and I gathered up the world-wide navigation speech-synthesiser and portable super-computer and drove our long-range transporter down the Hill Of Doom, whereupon I got a lift with the co-owner of the retreat into Hobart. Consulting my network-linked navigation system I found a car rental place. It was only when I went to sign up that I found I'd left my license behind! Fortunately, I spoke instantaneously at great distance to my Beloved, who was able to send a perfect facsimile directly to the office. While I waited, I sat in a cafe and ate food pills and Romulan ale until they called to let me know everything was in order, during which time I also published my experience to a world-wide network-linked audience.

The car, regrettably, does not fly. But you can't have everything.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

I Think You Could Call That A Memorable First Day

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 08:24:47 GMT

Here I sit, in the reception area of Huon Bush Retreat. We're all moved in to our cabin (we forewent the opportunity to camp yet again in our tent, because meh) and all is well... except that our car appears to have celebrated the trip to the top of the hill by dying. The radiator exploded. The RAC guy said we won't get anyone to look at it before Monday, and it may take a couple of days to find a replacement radiator. Way to enforce a getting-away-from-it-all ethos, Chaos Gods!

So if we have any readers in the area of Huonville who want to pop up to the Huon Bush Retreats with a care package of a take-away Chinese meal for five + yourselves, we'll welcome you and do our best to entertain you (and pay you for your trouble). Meanwhile, it looks like I'm about to make a taxi company and a hire car firm very happy...

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Travellers' Tales

Thu, 12 Nov 2009 11:38:32 GMT

We avoided much of the navigation stress today by the deceptively simple trick of giving up on our plans. Instead of aiming to be at X at 09:00 and at Y at 09:45, we just packed our stuff (while it rained! Canberra people may need to look that up on Wikipedia) and headed off to Hobart. There were assorted random blow-ups, including a delightful attack of the bullying bullshit from the EDoD just when we needed her and the Boy to shut the frak up for some complex city-traffic farnarkling, but that was a minor hiccup in an otherwise pleasant day.

We're now camped out in the living room of thelancrewitch's friends L. and O. and their daughters X.¹ and A. X. and the BatPup got on like a house on fire² and were dressing up as ballerinas and being quite lovely. A. latched on to the EDoD and followed her around happily. The Boy Wonder just tagged along and occasionally climbed furniture, ate wax fruit and generally did Boy Wonder things. Once they got a bit rowdy, we stuck them in the bath then the Beloved did her energy (ie meditation) trick and got them to calm down, and then I told the BatPup a story and they went cheerfully off to bed.

I've been telling the BatPup a complicated multi-part epic at the moment. See, she has several story-worlds, in approximate order of creation:

the Three [BatPup]s, a story of an alternate-universe family like ours but with triplets, all called the same name as the BatPup; their Daddy is a bit of a dabbler in weird technology, so they have a space-time rift that wanders about the farm they now live on, and three friends (also triplets) who are alien shape-shifters;
the Household Gods, a story of a little girl named Chloe who can talk to the various Pratchettian Small Gods who do things like create earworms and blow lightbulbs;
the Planetary Society, kind of a Famous Five version of Ellis's Snow, Wagner and Drummer, which is still finding its feet as a story and hasn't really gelled yet, but so far there's also a were-dragon named Miriam and a very grumpy computer named Orac (yes, that Orac);
Lilliam and the Zoo, a tale of a little girl whose parents own a zoo that contains, hidden among the normal animals, a lot of mythical and magical monsters, like a family of TV-obsessed sasquatches and a terribly under-confident boogyman; and
Flea, a little girl who lives in a caravan park with her mother and has just discovered that she can talk to animals.

They're all Magical Realism stories, because that's the formula she seems to like -- the Three [BatPup]s started out just mundane, but the storytelling engine just worked naturally in the direction of universe-hopping space ships and suchlike. So anyhow, I was telling her a Flea story, and the two pairs of triplets just kind of showed up, and then they went to a zoo and met Lilliam, and I think tomorrow night they're going to meet Chloe as well. I can't see the Planetary team mixing in very significantly, though they may get a cameo just for laughs. It's Crisis On Infinite BatPups around here!

The Planetary stories are very popular, as it turns out, but I'm having trouble getting a handle on them, which is why I've been throwing more elements in to see what sticks. It's a tricky business, designing a storytelling engine. Having them all in a shared world with a lot of unspoken back-story also helps, because it means I know why those shape-shifters can do what they do, and I also have some idea why Flea and her mother live alone in a caravan park. It may or may not come out in the stories, but just having the underlying knowledge makes it easier to tell stories.

Anyhow: off to Huonville tomorrow, then back to Hobart later. Plenty of time to iron the bugs out of a few storytelling engines and set them up for the long run. I rather enjoy this particular parental task, and I'm sure the Boy Wonder will like it too, once he's old enough.

¹ And don't I feel silly abbreviating that, since there's really only one name it could be unless you're a Lucy Lawless fan.
² Apologies for that metaphor to anyone living on the Australian mainland at the moment.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Travel, Lunch, Whinging, Also Echidnas.

Wed, 11 Nov 2009 12:15:01 GMT

The grubby-but-adequate caravan park turned out to be less adequate once the reality of camping a hundred metres from a busy highway became clear to us. I have no idea why the fuck there need to be that many trucks in all of Tasmania, let alone on one piddly little highway. So we gave up and went off to find a motel; the one we found is clean, comfortable and quiet, so we are well pleased. Granted the WiFiZone internet is $8 for two hours or 100Mb, but you take what you can get.

We went and saw the platypuses and the seahorses, as advised by assorted commenters. The highlight was definitely the echidnas, by which the Boy Wonder was mesmerised. Especially their long licky tongues. We also had yet another gorgeous cafe lunch, and spent most of the day being whinged at by a Boy, a BatPup and an EDoD as we drove from place to place. This Family Does Not Travel Well. We need to take some time out to fix the bugs in our plans so we can fix that: perhaps we would benefit from some stricter enforcement of mealtimes, particularly in the area of forcing the Boy to at least eat SOMETHING that isn't fruit.

We had dinner with friends of the Beloved, who are still trying to convince us to live here. Apart from the Dickensian architecture and the complete lack of jobs, it's almost tempting. Wait until we've checked out Hobart first though.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Happy Boyday!

Tue, 10 Nov 2009 10:57:46 GMT

Almost forgot: two years ago today, our living room contained a wading pool full of water, a nessbrain and incidentally also a Boy Wonder. Second birthdays being the last ones that aren't a big deal for the guest of honour, we didn't make a huge fuss, but after using up all our summer clothes in the recent heat, we were very glad of the cute little t-shirt and shorts from his Grand Moogi. I even got some photos before he commenced filthifying them, but they'll have to wait for a net cafe.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Chill

Tue, 10 Nov 2009 10:46:12 GMT

I'm cold!

WOOOHOOOOO!!!

Oh yeah; start at the beginning. Right.

The dinghy docked in Davenport before we woke up. By the time the pleasant little voice interrupted our air-conditioned slumber, it was already parked happily in its place, and we were ready to... wait. For about two hours, half of that in a car queue waiting for quarantine inspection. In the fullness of (yawn) time, we made it out and had a suitable breakfast, before heading off to Launceston and the slightly grubby caravan park.

With our palatial Tent Mahal erected, we had a relaxed day. We went to the Gorge, where the Beloved, the BatPup and the EDoD took a ride on the chairlift while their male relatives stayed sanely on terra firma. Then we went and had a "light lunch" at the "cafe", which is apparently Launcestonian slang for a wallopping huge meal at a gorgeous top-class restaurant, after which we could only waddle.

This evening we had a BBQ (again!) with thelancrewitch's local friends, who apparently think we should move here immediately and are starting a bidding war with her Hobartian friends who think the same regarding their town. It's certainly tempting; apart from an apparent love affair a century ago with the ugliest red-brick architecture you've ever gouged your eyeballs out rather than gaze upon, it's certainly a lovely place, and even when we get completely lost it's much less stressful to navigate. (Navigation stress is the theme of this holiday so far; we gave in yesterday and bought a map, so it should get better now.) But there remains the small matter of needing a job to keep myself supplied with food, comics and wonglepongs, so it remains a pipe dream at this stage.

Anyhow, that gets us to now. The weather has been mild all day, although warm enough that there were a lot of swimmers and sunbathers at the Gorge, and now it's deliciously cool. I like it! Here's hoping it stays that way, so we can really enjoy the transition back to Canberra's filthy heat when we get home...

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Row, Row, Row Your Bloody Enormous Floating Hotel

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 10:14:53 GMT

I am sitting on a large throbbing cast iron dinghy, heading south. The fact that it's possible to write this blog entry and even post it via wireless intarwobs is quite boggling, but that's what you get for living in the future.

Navigating in Melbourne was like living in the future, too – 1984 perhaps, or Brazil, or one of the earlier Mad Max movies. A large part of the problem was Nokia's excremental Maps program, which should be grounds for the summary executation by genital nailgunning of every person involved in its design and implementation and all of their immediate family as well. Eventually I downloaded Google Maps, and was greatly pleased. This didn't immediately make navigation a joy, but it improved it to the point where we only wanted to die in a nuclear explosion rather than take every denizen of Melbourne with us.

We went to ScienceWorks for most of the day, in between interminable navigating, and had a lovely time in the air conditioning, watching our munchkins playing. Then we queued for ages and drove onto the abovementioned dinghy, and just like that we were on our way to ~~another country~~Tasmania. Woot!

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Too Damn Hot, Also More On Regrettable Official Decisions And The Precise Resting Place Of The Buck

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 13:06:18 GMT

Twenty minutes left to post an entry! Where did the time go?

Hmmm, actually I know where it went: in wrangling a stupidly overtired BatPup:

She would not, could not go to bed.
She would not, could not lay her head.
She will not lie down on a mat.
She will not lie down near a cat.
She will not doze off near the wall.
She will not doze off here at all.
She does not want to sleep tonight...
She may be dead before first light.

But let's take it backwards. The Beloved is presently soothing her and singing her to sleep, having now also done the same for the Boy Wonder on our airbed in mr_bassman and mrsbrown's back room. I took the EDoD out for a walk down to the local Coles to get some stuff, which had the benefit of soothing her too.

We had some assorted friends over for a BBQ and general natter, so I have now finally properly met catsidhe and mimdancer. In between wrangling small people I got to chat a bit with bar_barra and actrealdon and meet his and pezzae's very tiny Small Person, who is gorgeous. mr_bassman, who is a lovely man despite his cruelty to his own toes (don't ask), took me to Tullamarine to pick up the EDoD from her flight; it turns out she missed out on Pony Club due to a fractious horse, so she could have come with us after all... but I think we're glad she didn't because it would have been hellish with the weather we're having.

We got to the home of mr_bassman et al (I'm getting REALLY tired of writing out all those angle brackets by now) around 4pm, having left Albury in plenty of time to get there an hour earlier; the delay was mainly due to the BatPup and the Boy Wonder being grumpy and requiring an awful lot of stops. I managed to get enough sleep, despite being bloody angry at the news I received last night, which those who know me can read between the lines enough to calculate.

And on that topic, it was pointed out to me that blaming the Royalty for the actions of the Peers is not always appropriate. I can accept that. However, there are times when merely holding one's nose and deciding to treat it all a learning experiences is not the best option. This, I'm quite sure, is one of those times. Wherever the buck really stops, nobody has impressed me. A stupid decision was made and was allowed to be realised. That's not good. Take this as my "time-out" warning; beyond continuing in my mostly on-line obligations, I will have nothing further to do with the SCA for the foreseeable future, at least until a few more people will admit to what I already know regarding certain people and their fitness for office.

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.

Albury and Stupid Royalty

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 11:39:49 GMT

We've arrived at Aunty Debbie and Uncle Greg's place in Albury. The trip down was relatively painless, apart from the glare off the roads that made it bloody painful. Must get wrap-around sunglasses! The Boy Wonder slept for about half the trip, but the BatPup stayed awake and complained about being bored (silly monkey).

We've introduced the monkeys to their Graunts and Gruncles (Great Aunts and Great Uncles), plus some Grousins (ie first cousins once removed) and one Scousin (second cousin). Having a pleasant time, especially now that the monkeys are all asleep. It's bloody hot of course, because Albury is a very silly place. Looking forward to Tassie weather even more now.

Meanwhile, I've just heard the news from the SCA: the Kingdom of Lochac has officially jumped the shark. The peerage system, specifically the Order of the Pelican, no longer has any credibility, and anyone here who tries to stand up for them will be laughed at. Bitterly. And then I'll spit in their faces. The best I can hope is that they'll never offer me a peerage, because a punch in the face often offends...

Originally posted at my Dreamwidth account. Comment there for preference, or here.