Only a fool tests the depth of the water with both feet

I'm not happy with these colours, but Henry insisted that we give a Henry-eyed view of the fountain in Salamanca Square. I get the impression that it is in some way a magical fountain, because it always seems to draw children (and drunks) to climb in for a swim. After seeing dozens of mangy pigeon bathing in there however, I would advise against it.

No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine

I COULD wax lyrical about how everybody is linked to everybody else in some small way, and how we're all dependent on each other yaddah yaddah yaddah BUT I'M NOT because I CAN'T BE BOTHERED.

What I will say is that I quite like this photograph. I like how the reflection plays off the water and I like how the colours are all a bit grimy and most off all I like the tension is quite evident when you look at the rope. And it should be. This flimsy little rope is all that's mooring a catamaran not much smaller than this one here.

There is something terribly impressive about that!

There is always a poignancy in little tragedies

You may have figured out by now that I enjoy odd comics. I have linked to a few in the past, and now want to share a new one that I've found and am enjoying.

This one is called Pictures for sad children, and is written and drawn by John Campbell.

He describes his work as "pretty okay" and "about a bad feeling you get when you are feeling good, or a good feeling you get when you are feeling bad".

Thus, these comics may not be appropriate for sad children.

Have a look, you'll probably like them.

Madarat lehet vele fogatni

Just a quick one this evening, I'm so tired I could eat a horse (that's how tired I am!)

Here is a picture taken on my way home from one of my favourite shops in town Spice World. As a fan of all manner of cuisine, this is one of the best places to go to find ingredients from all over the world. As a particular fan of Hungarian food, I always like to browse the wide range of paprika available here.

As always, I am on the lookout for tasty recipes for Henry and I to try from all over the world, so if anyone cares to help us out, links in the comments page would be much appreciated.

Over and out!

Don't h8 the playa, h8 the game

I have been disturbed by the amount of anti-Elmo propaganda that I have encountered over the past few weeks. I have heard him variously described as “too mainstream”, “Sesame Street’s version of Jah-Jah Binks”, “F&*#$@g annoying”, and most commonly, “Elmo has been the ruination of Sesame Street.”

Intrigued by other people’s apparent loathing of the furry red monster, I naively Googled “I hate Elmo” and got three hundred and twenty-nine thousand responses. There is even a group who have organised an International "I Hate Elmo" Week!

Having a look at most commentaries, people seem to feel that Elmo is somewhat low in IQ compared to the other Muppets on Sesame Street. But my understanding is that Elmo's character is three-and-a-half, and his development was designed to introduce a character with the mentality of a toddler, someone the really little ones could relate to while their older siblings enjoyed other aspects of the show.

When contacted by this blog, Elmo declined comment

Elmo wasn’t a character back when I watched Sesame Street, and wouldn’t have been present in the memories of the show in most of his critics (that I know). They appear to hate him because his reasoning is simplistic, he has an annoying voice and that he is repetitive activities are annoying. They also comment on how he compares unfavourably to other, more fondly-remembered characters.

All I can say is, err, what? Maybe because Elmo is fresher to me, I find him less boring than all of the characters I know. Really, The Count? Telly? The Cookie Monster? Bert and Ernie? Big Bird? Snuffie? They’ve been doing the same old stale act for over forty years! God, Telly grates with me in a way that Elmo never could. He’s so damned stupid. At least Elmo is a toddler.

Anyway, I just wanted to publicly say “I have no problem with Elmo”. And it has nothing at all to do with the fact that he is a sure fire way to distract Henry from assaulting me.

Slow news day...

I am all for encouraging people's hobbies, but there clearly cannot be a better example of a slow news day than this here from the ABC here in Australia!

Freedom in a commons brings ruin to all

A number of days ago I spoke about a concept often used in teaching political science called The Tragedy of the Commons. To illustrate, I used one of my stock examples, that of whaling. Today, I could not help but photograph another of my hoard of examples to demonstrate public policy problems, which may be more readily apparent to people the world over.

The building in which my office is located houses a number of businesses. Each floor of the converted warehouse has a small kitchenette, shared between offices. There are just three offices on the top floor, ours; a barrister/solicitor office; and an IT crowd who seems to do some sort of animation.

As one might expect, the barrister and staff are all very neat and tidy, and for the most part our lot buy their lunch and don’t really use the kitchenette. I do, however, enjoy an instant coffee on a cold morning, so regularly use the kettle. That is generally the extent of my usage.

The IT crowd, predictably, consists of a group of young, socially introverted men who happen to subsist on hot chocolate, toasted sandwiches, microwavable meals et cetera. As with many people these days (not just men), their notion of cleanliness is [ahem] somewhat different to mine.

While I am happy to fill their dirty cups and wine glasses with warm water in an endeavour to make washing them a less laborious task, I stop short of the actions of our Finance and Administration Officer, who has been known to wash all the dirty dishes completely. In a sense, this illustrates a public policy concept that will be familiar to everybody: the free rider problem.

“Free riders” are best understood as those who consume more than their fair share of a resource, or shoulder less than a fair share of the costs of its production. The free rider problem is the question of how to prevent free riding from taking place, or at least limit its negative effects.

I would argue that Vernon washing the dishes enables the IT crowd’s free riding, and that by simply leaving the dishes they will eventually notice the costs of their free riding, and take action themselves. Of course, the community (floor three of the building) must also bear such costs at the same time.

The solution? Well, similar to the 'tragedy of the commons', “freedom in a commons brings ruin to all”. While we would all like it to be that everybody should be unconstrained to act in whatever way they feel, a laissez faire approach will inevitably end up like the picture above.

Now, we might find the solution in one of, or a combination of, a number of responses. Broadly, political science undergrads are introduced to the concepts of market, bureaucratic and community models of regulation.

A ‘market’ response might be to attach a monetary cost to negative behaviour. Thus, any office that leaves dirty dishes in the sink for (say) one day would have to pay a five dollar fine. If the dishes remain there, raise the fine to twenty dollars. Think of it as a polluter’s tax.

Of course, we will need a structure to enforce the fine. This is where ‘bureaucratic’ mechanisms come in handy. In this way, one response would be the building manager drafting a constitution that outlines the rights and responsibilities of tenants, and establishing some sort of authority to enforce the rules. If there is no authority to enforce, then the rules are a waste of time.

One response that I have tried (and failed to make headway) would fall under the broad heading of ‘community’. That is, I have tried to engender a sense of shame or guilt for leaving the kitchenette in such a state. Suffice to say that the IT crowd don’t appear to share the same sort of embarrassment or remorse as I would if I left the area in a similar state. Tut-tutting or a mournful shake of the head at the mess does not seem to have any effect.

Inevitably, most logical solutions will feature all three models. Tariffs on bad behaviour will not work without a culture that recognises the behaviour as such. Similarly, without some mechanism to enforce these sorts of tariffs, individuals and groups will continue their poor conduct.

If we somehow manage to find a solution, there will inevitably be new, unforeseen problems, let alone the expected issues that will emerge over free riding.

Lecture over, but if anyone has a solution to this particular problem, let me know, the stench is overwhelming!

Qu'ils mangent de la brioche

Personally, I don't think that the lady was likely to have uttered the above phrase, but the distance between her lifestyle and that of the wretched masses did not win her any sympathy. Pay heed, residents of the Silo Apartments!

The cake featured above is a little strawberry tea cake that Henry and I managed to cook this afternoon. I knocked off early today as Jen had an obstetrician appointment today. Well... at least Jen thinks that it was an obstetrician that she saw, they don't really introduce themselves, part of an obnoxiously superior [ahem] socially dysfunctional interesting manner whereby the patient appears a mere obstacle to a big fat paycheck a secondary concern.

But enough doctor baiting! I was talking cake, and today in order to satisfy the eager el duce I opened up the cupboard, grabbed the flour and had a think about what we could whip up.

Recipes? Pfft! Amateur hour. Working off an apple tea cake variation that I know well, we got some strawberries, quartered them and had ourselves a decent little cake. As someone who doesn't like any kind of icing, I throw on the streusel as a concession to the sweet toothed members of the clan (that is, everybody but me).

Thankfully, the experiment paid off and we had half the cake knocked off by bedtime. If I am lucky, there may be a few crumbs left for me to lick up when I get home from work tomorrow. No matter, cake exists to be eaten, that's my philosophy. It has served me well for many years.

Social Networking

In order to celebrate what is the FOUR HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-THIRD post of this here website thingamabob, I thought that I should alert you to the fact that it now has its own Facebook page.

How terribly exciting!

So if you do the Facebook thing, feel free to add the blog networks application and tick me off. Even better, if you have your own page, you can whack it up there with little effort.

A rich man is nothing but a poor man with money

Here we have the homes of the some of the Hobartian elite [which must be pronounced AY-leet in order to convey the full effect that I'm aiming for].

As with many cities the world over, the former docklands of Hobart – once home to the worst sort of filth, disease and moral depravity that one expects among the lowest rungs of society – has now been transformed into la-de-da apartments, and once grimy and slummy terrace-housing have become “semi-detached town houses” fit for the sort of urban living now desirable to the privileged upper-classes.

For over half a century, the Hobart silos were used for storing grain destined for export. As the utility of Hobart as a working port declined, and the global competitiveness of Tasmanian grain dwindled, the future of the silos looked bleak.

Cue urban regeneration, and today they house thirty luxury residential apartments, and have become amongst the most lusted-after addresses in Hobart. The powerful and famous can be spotted each morning power-walking their way to the gym with boutique canines, then stop for a weak soy decaf cafe-latte while they moan about global poverty and the preservation of old growth forests.

Come the revolution though, I expect to see the silo apartments as Hobart’s very own Bastille!

Dolly Downer is exiting the building...

I can’t really be bothered to enter too much into Alexander Downer’s latest theatrical outburst as he exits Australian politics, as I am more than aware that he's playing the same old kind of politics that he always has. That said, it is nice to see him go out as big a hypocrite as he has been throughout. His quote:

"If Mr Rudd doesn't run a candidate in Mayo, well then he's slinking away in a cowardly way and he should be prepared to face up to the judgement of the people of Australia whenever that judgement is called to be made.

I think they're treating the people of Mayo with contempt if they're not prepared to run a candidate when they're the Government of Australia."

So let me get this straight, the guy who contested (and won) the seat of Mayo in the 2007 election, but whose party lost miserably and looks set for a good stretch in opposition. Perhaps understandably, he doesn’t like the taste of opposition so he bails out early, forcing a by-election that is going to cost taxpayers well into the hundreds of thousands of dollars.

And this guy thinks that he had the moral high ground when he talks about treating the people of Mayo with contempt?

No bloody wonder they were booted out!

CRIKEY! Just over there is a very rare Tasmanian crocodile...

I understand that when many people think of Australia, they think crocodiles. Generally speaking though, crocodiles like warm weather, and thus can't be found here in Tasmania (nor Victoria, New South Wales, South Australia or the ACT).

That is, all crocodiles except for the Extreme Antarctic Show Tunes Saltwater Crocodile. We happen to keep one of these very rare and dangerous beasts as a pet, to encourage a mentality of caution and safety.

Like the giant saltwater crocs that you can find in the north of Australia, the Antarctic croc is an aggressive and robust animal. They tend to congregate in rivers, lakes, wetlands and sometimes in toy chests. They feed mostly on vertebrates like fish, reptiles, and mammals, and occasionally on English muffins, raisons and dried cranberries. It tends to be an 'ambush hunter', that is, it waits for fish or land animals to come close, then rushes out to attack.

The most unique feature of the Tasmanian sub-species of the Antarctic croc is the combined xylophone/keyboard-like scaling across its back. It is this feature, coupled with wheels and nose rope, that makes it desirable to toddlers.