Torchwood - I have an issue

Been watching a couple of episodes of Torchwood - the one with the fairies at the bottom of the garden (liked it), and the one set in the Brecon Beacons (a desolate place that I've mentioned before on this blog someplace - it's the Welsh equivalent of the Desert Road, complete with army manoeuvres, and that episode was so-so.).

Anyway, here's my issue:

If Capt Jack is invulnerable & immortal, how come he lets Gwen crash through the farm door first, so that she collects a shotgun blast? Doesn't it make sense to send the unkillable one in?

Sheesh. It's little things like this that can ruin a show. Aside from that & the feeling that a couple of the cast at least can't do action to save themselves, I like it.

BBC - Torchwood - Homepage

Meet the Governor.

Republican Vice Presidential candidate, Gov. Sarah Palin of Alaska reclines on the carcass of a Kodiak bear she has just killed with her bare hands & dragged in from the backyard after the luckless beast wandered into the Gubernatorial mansion looking for salmon in the fish pond.

A weary but satisfied Gov Palin then tucked into a King Crab lunch prepared by her staff.

Next issue: Old Youtube footage of a bikini clad Gov. Palin machine-gunning elks.

Brian Lochore on Political correctness

It may well be the reporting to blame, but can anyone make sense of what Sir Brian is saying?

Brian Lochore: Political correctness destroying NZ - Stuff.co.nz

"We are living in a PC world which is destroying us, where you actually can't put the hard word on people when they have digressed and committed bad blunders," he said.

Um... Just let us know who's transgressed (I presume that's what you mean) Brian, and we'll send a few of the boys around. No sweat.

He said his daughters went to a rugby game at three weeks old, and later played in the mud while their dad downed a jug in the bar after a game.

"In the evenings we went to the rugby parties with the kids, who slept in the back of the car. We can't do that any more because we haven't got rid of the perpetrators that actually destroy our society."

Say what? I kind of get the first bit: people are no longer free to get pissed while the kids play outside in the mud (was the motorway not handy?) and later sleep in the car, bacause the olds are STILL in the club pissing up large. I'm not quite sure who he's blaming for this state of affairs though. Unless by "perpetrators" he means the Gummint.

"The one thing I believe is important in life is respect. They respected authority, they respected teachers, I respected the teachers. We lack a great deal of respect for authority nowadays, there's always someone protesting."

He says that like it's a bad thing. I have little doubt that protesters protested in his day too. But hey, he's free to state his opinion, even if he thinks others shouldn't.

Sir Brian admitted to smacking his children, "but I've never hit them".

"Yes, I smacked other people's children, but I never hit them. But we are not allowed to do that any more in this PC world."

Dear me. And good.

So to summarise:

NZ is being destroyed because people who respect authority are no longer allowed to take vigilante action against those who may have transgressed, parents can't leave their kids unsupervised while they get pissed somewhere else, we can no longer physically "discipline" our & others' children, and too many people are protesting.

It's a disgrace I tell you!

The F-All Plan Diet. And Labradors.

The Kelburn Vet Clinic rang me the other day to remind me (I hadn't forgotten) that Wilma was due for her 12 monthly checkup and vaccinations.

Actually, I had been a bit remiss, I got the reminder a month ago, and only last week I found lump on her side that I thought should be checked out promptly.

My reservation was that Wilma is clearly a little... stout at present, and could do to lose a few kilos before coming under the watchful eye of one of the vets (they seem obsessed with weight & teeth - of your pets of course, although just as an aside, the two primary vets are very svelte and attractive, and have exceptional teeth, so maybe this is some sort of unconscious projection.)

The clinic is a few houses along from our place, but a few houses in the opposite direction to that which Wilma & I take on our daily walks. So she was apprehensive the moment I corrected her trajectory with a breezy "This way." She knows that means to change direction.

She started to get really worried when I shortened the lead as we approached the vet's, she's used to taking a very wide berth past their doorway.

And in we swooped! Wilma spinning slightly as she settled to patiently, and rather optimistically, face the exit.

While no-one was looking, I coaxed her onto the scales. 34.4 kg. Bugger. Fat Bitch. A receptionist appeared at the computer terminal & enquired as to her weight. I was entirely honest.

And I was slightly gladdened in one way, to see that we were to be attended by a new vet who wasn't familiar with Wilma's history. And slightly disappointed that we weren't to see the hot female vet (not that I make a habit of channeling Jon Arbuckle or anything). And then totally disappointed to discover the new guy had a printout of her history.

"ooh. She's put on some weight!"
"Um. Yes."

Wilma was pretty much dragged across the polished floor into the consultation room. Every time she was urged to stand up to be examined, she kind of slid down with her back to the ground, a puzzling but highly effective manoeuvre

Her teeth checked out - we've been keeping her from the macadamia nuts this year. She was led out the back & had a biopsy performed on her slightly worrying lump (fat deposit, nothing to worry about). She took her vaccinations like a brave little dog should.

And then I took the lecture about fat pets. Although this was from the new guy & not so bad as usual, the Fat Pet Lecture from the boss is infamous around Kelburn. You should hear the guy whose lab is 47kg moan about it.

And I learned that avocados are poisonous to dogs.

"They can't be that poisonous!?" I queried, "Wilma has eaten LOADS!"

But anyway, in the interests of regaining her waist, and her preferred upper limit of 30kg, she's now on the avocado-less diet. And the carbo-free diet (aside from whatever is in dog food naturally). And reduced rations of the labrador specific dog food I only bought the day before yesterday. Whatever will they think of next to part me from my money? Although to be fair, I bought it because it came with a free doggy travel bed. They have cool free stuff with dog & cat food now & then.

And it won't take that long to get her down to 30kg, we've done it before.

Phil Lewin

It's fair to say that the death of my sister in March has cast a pall over this year. The pain from the loss of someone close never really goes away, but it does get easier to bear. However, it may be a while before I regain the spontaneous inspiration to post that I used to enjoy. Somehow this year hasn't been as funny as others. That happens, I guess.

And onwards...

Early in 1973, a skinny kid with an angry scar on his face & a funny accent was introduced to his new school and classmates. Among them was a guy with a permanent grin & an irrepressible wit, his name was Phil Lewin & he befriended me.

Phil would march between classes with a merry "Ta ra ra boomteyay, I'll take your pants away, and while you're standing there, I'll steal your underwear." or a version of John Denver's Country Road, into which various gynaecological terms had been seamlessly integrated.

I knew almost no-one, but Phil knew everyone. Like most conservative old schools, it had something of an underground bully culture, there were some kids you just steered clear of. Not Phil though, on spying one particularly feared hulk (who looked for all the world like the bully character in the Dennis the Menace cartoons), Phil would bellow "Duuuuh! MacPhee you moron!". For some reason MacPhee would merely curse & walk away.

I was only at that school for half a year or so, before my family moved into deepest Hutt Valley & I changed college. But as chance would have it, we moved to a place just around the corner from Phil's grandmother & so as the years passed, I'd often see him & other family members on their way to visit.

Later, we caught up at University, he was studying English Lit & French. He told me he took French because there were 300 in the class, of whom 296 were women, whilst the other 3 guys were gay.

A clever guy, he appeared on University Challenge, was a Rhodes Scholar, career diplomat and business lobbyist. I heard rumours that he was being urged to enter politics. He would have been a dream Wellington Central candidate.

It's been a few years since we last spoke, probably shortly after he returned from a posting in Moscow. I always figured we'd catch up one day again. I was wrong.

My sympathies go to his family, his wife & kids, his sister, and his mother. Mothers shouldn't have to farewell their children like that, but it happens.

So long Phil. You went far too soon.

Apostro-catastrophic tornado

Have they outsourced the sub editors already?

"There's only one wall standing at the woolshed and our garage roof was ripped off so it's pretty much a right off."

The family home also suffered extensive roof damage and the Bell's believe the tornado lifted their house off its footings.

Family terrified as tornado rips through home - New Zealand news on Stuff.co.nz

Chainsaw Frenzy

I was starting to get a bit worried about firewood this winter. I mean, we've enough for this year, but it's been getting near time to sort out next year's woodpile. The options were:

1. Cut down a few expendable trees which aren't particularly great burning wood, but which are free, or

2. Buy some macracarpa in, but winter isn't really the best time to be buying firewood.

Anyway, last Wednesday's storm has solved the problem. When we arrived, there were bits of beech all over the front garden & I thought "Cool! Firewood!". It wasn't till an hour or so later that I looked in the orchard... needless to say, I haven't even got to the front garden to clean up the beech yet.







Another metre & the berry house would have been totalled.









There used to be a young macadamia tree here. Oh well, we had too many anyway.



The neighbourhood was without power for 36 hours. We weren't there, but if we had been, our biggest problem would have been water, we have gas & gas water heating, but we're on bore water & the pump is powered by electricity.

Every time the rain eased this weekend, the peace in the neighbourhood was disturbed by the sound of chainsaws firing up. Not least at SunnyO. There's now a large woodpile weathering away in the orchard, and I should have the fence upright by the end of next weekend - when I get the last of the stump from the big pine tree off it.

I need to think of a back up solution for the water, but I'm sorted for firewood.

Curiously sad.

This has done the rounds before, but I came across it again today & it really is a most curious thing - remove Garfield from the cartoons & the strip oozes pathos.



Click for bigger image.

garfield minus garfield

Talking of dogs...

Last Saturday, we were a bit too late to take Wilma down to the beach for a run, so I walked her a kilometre or so to a local public park. This park is bordered by State Highway 1 & used to be home to a couple of horses. In the last few years, it's been converted into a lovely little park area, with native trees, grasses & a couple of streams running through it.

Occasionally I come across other dogs & their owners, but not often.

This night though, as I arrived, there was a lanky character ahead of me, black jeans, tatty jersey, leather jacket, a beanie & white gumboots - he looked like a gang member out without his patch (that sounds judgemental, but bear with me a moment). He was with a dog that looked like it had some Staffordshire Bull Terrier in it.

As we approached, his dog came running up to Wilma, and so I let her off her lead. She & the staffy roamed ahead of the guy & as she passed, Wilma gave him a big smile.

The guy was still ahead of me, he'd looked around, but otherwise ignored us, and as he crossed the rickety bridge over one of the streams, he slipped. Turning, he gestured to me to be careful. I said "Thanks, I noticed you nearly slipped."

Over the bridge, the dogs played for a few moments, the Wilma went off looking for the other stream to splash in mud.

The guy approached, and as he did I noticed that he was bearded & had a droopy eye.

He asked me "Are you from SunnyO? I said that "yes, sometimes I'm from SunnyO, why do you ask?"

He said "Most people keep their dogs away from mine. For some reason they're scared of him."

I had to laugh to myself, because I'm quite sure people are more nervous about him, than his dog. I might have been myself, but Wilma giving him a big smile, when she'd take a wide berth around anyone posing a threat convinced me he was almost certainly harmless. As was his dog, which tellingly, was called "Ricky" rather than "Vengeance" or "Satan". A dead giveaway.

Give a dog a home.

Abused pup marks one year at SPCA - Stuff.co.nz

A missed opportunity

So Brad & Angelina have produced twins. They've given them relatively normal names - a boy called Knox Leon and girl called Vivienne Marcheline.

I tend to agree with the first commenter at the bottom of the story:

How disappointing, these two could have used their superstar status to really push the boundaries of ridiculous celebrity baby names.
#1 Posted by housemonkey — 09:14 AM | Monday , 14 July 2008

Should further superstar issue ensue, and presuming the surname will be "Pitt", may I humbly offer the obvious choices:

Bear
Olive
Cherry
Peach.

I'm sure there are more.

Jolie's newborn twins named (+pics, video) - on Stuff.co.nz

Whoop whoop - train wreck alert!

Sacha Baron Cohen & Will Ferrell to play Sherlock Holmes & Dr Watson, in a new spoof of the Arthur Conan Doyle super sleuth.

Seriously, no Sherlock Holmes spoof has ever been remotely funny, not the one starring Pete & Dud, nor the John Cleese one, and especially not the Roger Moore one. Additionally, almost nothing with Will Ferrell in it has been remotely funny either.

Just the idea of Sacha and Will as Sherlock Holmes and Watson makes us laugh," Columbia Pictures co-president Matt Tolmach said in a statement.

Ha ha ha! Just the idea of some smug, ignorant prat saying this makes me laugh. Muahahaha!

Did someone say "Bewitched?". Jeez Matt, just announce these two are in a new remake of Casablanca & be done with it. And your career.

Borat to wear Sherlock Holmes' hat - New Zealand - Stuff.co.nz

Myth Busters - Population and Sustainable Development

Fascinating stuff - while searching the website of the Dept of Statistics (that's what I call fun), I came across this page examining a number of myths associated with the New Zealand population - the "Brain Drain", the "browning" of New Zealand, and more.

Worth a look.

Myth Busters - Population and Sustainable Development

I wonder if the Dept of Justice have one on crime spiralling out of control?

I'm enjoying the new Terminator series

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles takes place immediately after the events of Terminator 2: Judgement Day. Lena Headey plays Sarah Connor, Thomas Dekker is her son John, the soon-to-be saviour of humankind.

In the pilot episode, John's laying low in a school in New Mexico, in 1999, when a new teacher reveals himself to be a terminator sent back in time to kill him.

Luckily the weird girl in his class also reveals herself to be a terminator (they're all over the place in this series) sent to replace the T-Arnie model destroyed at the end of the 2nd movie. This terminator, Cameron, is played straightfaced, by the awesome Summer Glau (NB: this photo is absolutely not from the series).

Forget Terminator 3: The Terminatrix (or whatever it was called), that didn't happen. Because what the T-Summer does, is transport Sarah & John 7 years into the future (thus, avoiding for the time being, Sarah's death from cancer that was reported in T3), to 2006.

The game's still the same, protect John from a legion of robots sent back to eliminate him, and try to find the origins of Skynet (now a prototype chess playing computer called The Turk).

It's violent, it's funny & it captures the same atmosphere as T2 - plenty of juxtaposing the petite Ms Glau with all manner of mechanical objects, and the same sort of humour is derived as the benign terminator learns to pass as human. It's worth watching the series just for the magnificently perfunctory "grief counselling" Cameron suffers after being the last "person" to speak (surreally) to a suicidal student. Emo, she's not.

There are also some nice nods to the earlier films, for instance, Cameron patrols LA in police uniform, rayban aviators (in the dead of night) and a motorbike. Sarah quips "Somewhere there's a naked policeman bleeding in an alley".

Oh, and that guy that always stuck me as a martian in Beverly Hills 90210 - Brian Austin Green, is also in it - he's Kyle Reese's brother (John's uncle).

Glau's a trained ballerina & one episode has her undercover at a ballet school. Later, a character muses that once machines learn to appreciate art, they may not feel the need to wipe out humanity - and cut to: Cameron alone in her room practising her ballet moves in the mirror.

Smart, violent, funny, and not unimportantly, a talented & attractive cast.

Series 2 has just been commissioned. Yay.

More Summer Glau photos (SFW) for your entertainment.

summer glau terminator - Google Image Search

One good reason for not allowing free access through farms

Woman trampled by cows sues farmer for £1 million damages - Telegraph

A better one can be summed up in 4 words: Foot and Mouth Disease.

Auckland 'needs mini-government' - Stuff.co.nz

No sweat, they can have our old one later this year when we've finished with it.

Auckland 'needs mini-government' on Stuff.co.nz

Can't they?

Lookout Daniel Radcliffe

I've yet to see a film featuring Sienna Millar, so I'm not qualified to comment on her acting talents. But I can put 2 & 2 together & divine that Ms Miller has top class talents in other areas.

Consider - if you happen to be a young, presentable actor, and especially if you're British, it's probably only a matter of time before Sienna will get around to you.

SO look out Daniel! (Or perhaps more likely, Rupert Grint.)

Rhys Ifans throws phone tantrum after Sienna split - Stuff.co.nz

The Dark is Rising - now a major film!

Actually, given it jettisons most of the original plot & changes everything else, it's more like the "major" film that they made out of The Wizard of Earthsea. A steaming heap, in other words.

The Seeker (film) - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Why do they bother?

Winter Harvest

Winter Harvest has commenced. That’s the harvest of 4 of the macadamia trees that are ready in the middle of the year. In Winter, in fact. There’s another harvest later in the year, we call that one the “Not the Winter Harvest”.

Some macadamia trees drop their nuts. These are the Winter Harvest trees. The nuts on the other trees hang tight until Not Winter.

Last year, we harvested 49.9kg from all 4 Winter Harvest trees. That seemed like a lot at the time. This weekend, we harvested 62.5kg from two of the trees (not counting some 20kg of windfalls picked earlier in the month). That was two trailer loads (ok, small trailer). We only had time for two of the trees because as soon as they’re picked they have to be run through the smelly & noisy de-husking machine, or the husks will taint the nuts.

De-husking is a long & tedious task. My arms hurt today from hours & hours of cajoling & wrestling nuts through a tiny opening. But there’s something satisfying about the 6 sacks hanging in the drying room now. They’ll hang for 3 months, before being given a bit of a booster drying through the ovens (very low temperature). I expect them, at that stage, to weigh about 45kg.

Harvesting any kind of home grown produce is satisfying, Mrs Llew managed to find time this weekend to finish picking the granny smiths, about 5 20 litre buckets full, she’s given a fair few away, and stewed & frozen what she’s kept. We enjoyed apple crumble the other night, first apple crumble in decades for me.

We’ve also now got a pantry well stocked with quince jam, quince paste, quince & apple jelly, crab-apple jelly. Mrs Llew bought herself a stainless steel preserving pan which sits proudly on the stove top (because we don’t have a cupboard big enough to put it away.)

I remember my mum doing all this stuff when I was a kid (she still does, actually), but I was still staggered at how much sugar goes into preserves... I can see we'll be buying it by the sackload next year.

Aside from processing our own produce, the other old worldey sort of thing we do is make our own stock – in fact, there is a large stainless steel stock pot sitting proudly beside the preserving pan, every few weeks I simmer the collection of chicken carcasses that we keep in the freezer, along with whatever else I can find to chuck in – leeks, celery, herbs , carrots, onions, salt & pepper. I simmer the whole lot for a day or two, before straining the stock off (the sludge gets fed to the dog, by now any chicken bones are the consistency of chalk.)

The stock will set to the consistency of jelly. We freeze it for later.

Best headline of the week.

Gillian Anderson pregnant, no aliens involved - Stuff.co.nz