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Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle

~ The Home Pub of the Famous Pink Drinks and Trotter's Ale

Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle

Monthly Archives: April 2012

One Step Beyond

22 Sunday Apr 2012

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Algernon, Bands at the Pig's Arms, Entertainment Upstairs

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Madness, SKA, Skatelites

Playlist by Algernon

Following on from Do the Reggay, perhaps some SKA.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WQg_t8NYfvo

One step Beyond – Prince Buster

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VTGemShG6Q0

On My Radio – The Selector

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XJOLwy7un3U

Baggy Trousers – Madness

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N-uyWAe0NhQ

One step beyond – Madness

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Shq4U27Ieo

King of Kings – Prince Buster and the Skatalies

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FbxQqtkcx6E

Oil in my lamp – Eric “Monty’Morris

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nxHcx7FO8nI

Too Much too young – The Specials

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EPKOT6P3OXA

Montego Bay –Allnighters

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F6fQnTyEniM

Lip up Fatty – Bad Manners

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d31TBNubY6w

Perfect Teeth – The Porkers

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NIGMUAMevH0

The impression that I get – The Mighty Mighty Bosstones

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0bM0wVjU2-k

Save it for later – The English Beat

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9DFTxdGzQkM

Train to Skaville – The Ethiopians

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O9HyXc4e7Qc

Simmer Down – The Skatalites

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AR7n2zILQCA

The tide is high – The Paragons

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2JicW0JeiSQ

Do rock steady  – The Bodysnatchers

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqZ8428GSrI

Ghost Town – The Specials

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=netBTEHQYWM

Too Much pressure – The Selector

A present Of IPod for Grandson

20 Friday Apr 2012

Posted by gerard oosterman in Uncategorized

≈ 26 Comments

A present of IPod for Grandson

April 20, 2012

 

The promise was rock-solid. The nine year old grandson was to get an IPod which he had saved up for with the help of grandparents who lived in self- denial. The denial was to do with unselfishly depositing money in little carton boxes at regular intervals so the grandkids could buy electronic things with buttons and batteries. The carton money boxes had names on them were well hidden especially when one of the boxes had been found with less money than before. After this discovery one of the grandsons was unusual emotional and getting very teary. He wasn’t the one who had less money in the box. He seemed all of a sudden full of goodwill and even made his bed and picked flowers for his Oma. Where did all this benevolence come from?

We held council and instead of holding an inquisition decided not to push the matter. The one whose carton box had been pillaged had become unusual philosophical and somewhat sanguine. We felt that the little brothers had come to a satisfactory financial agreement between themselves and with harmony and order returning between each other felt that our intervention would indeed have been superfluous.

The next stage for buying the IPod was to investigate all available options. I had heard of different IPod/Pad but as with most of those fashion items was totally an ignoramus of what they entailed or indeed what they did. I know that the grandson with a Pod was forever flicking the screen and clearly things were moving on the screen. They could play games, if pushing or touching a small screen can be called a game.

In my days we would lay small incendiary devices on tram-rails made of match heads and hollow metal pipes. My younger brothers had burnt down a disused town-hall in The Hague and another one had whacked frail old ladies with an even older umbrella while riding pillion on the bicycle. They were the games of former times. We were made of so much sterner stuff.

We thought a fair start would be to go and pay a visit to Dick Smith. He was after all the man of ‘buy Australian’. Didn’t he try and safe vegemite from being taken over?  Even though, personally, I was never enthusiastic about smearing brown stuff over a piece of white Tip Top, I was patriotic enough and supportive of Dick in trying to safe this iconic true Australian delicacy.

The blond girl at Dick Smith wasn’t too helpful and decided to; rightly so, put me in the geriatric section of IPod buyers. She kind of looked me up and down. I retaliated by staring over her shoulders at the same movie that was being played on about twenty screens against the back wall. Twenty green monsters, deep in a forest, were all blowing smoke from their nostrils, all in perfect time. I asked her earnestly if an IPod would support a shopping list and if it had a smoke alarm in case of forgetting about the pizza in the oven.  I think she got the hint that her sales service was somewhat lacking.

We then walked across the usual parking dessert of a major shopping centers, through a food court in full swing with dozens of hungry shoppers bent over their Big Macs and slurping slushies and walked into a BigW store. Now, there was a service. A sharp young man of about 17 explained very crisply the how’s and why’s of an IPod. It turns out it is an Apple product and that there are other similar products which are different and have different names. He was resolute in his explanations and ,above all, kept the information simple and precise.

This coming Sunday we will return with our grandson and his carton money box and buy him the Apple IPod.

There is hope for all of us.

Tags: Apple, BigW, Dick Smith, IPod, Vegemite Posted in Gerard Oosterman | Edit |   Leave a Comment »

Not Going There, Done That.

20 Friday Apr 2012

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

Apple, Champs Elysees, Eiffel Tower, Paris, retail

Champs de Retail

Travel Yes and No – A Reply for Gez and Helvi.

Three weeks in Paris with FM.  I had this planned for some time but it took an eternity to work up the courage and find the cash to make the commitment.

Although she has travelled the world many times before Tim the Cabin Boy was born, this is her first trip to the city of light and my fourth – in 30 years.  Two years ago I came here with Emmlet II and her old school pal – for five days only – but it was the trip before that in 2004 with the whole tribe – for 10 days over Easter that put Paris in my “must go every now and then” list.

In every visit I always had that “I wish I had seen ……..” feeling when I came home.  There is simply too much to experience in perhaps even a year or two.  And in every case I learnt things that I should avoid or find some way around.

The first thing was that it is so far away that the trip can be exhausting – so we spent a bit more cash and flew premium economy (where your nose just misses the passenger in front’s head instead of touching it).  The second distance buster was breaking the trip at Singapore for a couple of days.  Both of these proved to be good ideas but stole time and cash.  Always the trade-off.

Luck out #1 was an upgrade to business class – free champagne and a “reclining bed”, no crowd and delightful QANTAS cabin service for the ten hours to Singapore.

Less wonderful event #1 back to premium economy for the Singapore to Paris leg – departing at 23:30 and flying all night – which means three or four movies and no cabin service and no reclining bed when you could really benefit from it.

Getting from Charles de Gaulle into Paris can be a nightmare for the language challenged.  Solution: I booked a great hotel in an ideal location (for just two nights to get over the trip and because the cost was frightening) and a car to pick us up – avoiding jetlag on the peak hour metro plus navigation on and off the thing with bags. This proved to be very good thinking and the hotel people were great.

After that we moved to an apartment I found on the internet through the massive TripAdvisor site – which had used in the last two visits – TripAdvisor that is, not the same apartment.  First it was only five minutes walk away from the hotel – easy.  Second it was very economical and proved to be huge and modern by Paris standards (like 55 square metres huge) – close to three metro stations (ideal), shops, the twice a week giant open air markets at Boulevard Richard Lenoir near Bastille.  Food there is cheap and excellent – even in this early Spring (cold, by our standards and unreliable weather like Sydney in October).

Echoing your sentiments, visiting monuments, galleries, churches and museums has been an interesting event for us.  FM loves art, but is easily put off by giant queues – and so I confess, am I.  So whereas I kind of expected to line up at Musee D’Orsay and the Louvre, we have decided to give them a miss.  Just too hard and big wasters of time.  Everyone goes to the Eiffel Tower.  But not us, this trip.  The Parisian engineers had carefully ensured that on the Easter public holidays, one of the lifts was broken down and the massive queues (in biting cold wind and light rain) were advised that the wait was over two hours.  To get a birds eye view of three or four landmarks and what is a beautiful but rather homogenous Paris central skyline.

You might recall that I expressed disappointment with the Picasso exhibition visiting Sydney recently.  Our apartment manager lunched with us on the first day and asked me what I thought of the Picassos – still on travelling exhibition while their Paris digs are under renovation.  I was honest.  She beamed and almost shook my hand.  She said that the story behind the collection is that the heirs to the Picasso legacy were facing a huge tax bill when he died – which, under French law they could “pay” in kind.  So they took all of the crap that was still in the paintings shed and gave it to the people de la Republic.  She thought they got the unsaleable rubbish – which I feel reflected a certain slight anti-Spanish sentiment as much as it did a major disapproving artistic judgment.

But to be fair to Paris, the exhibition in the Musee Marmotan (many smaller Monets and other impressionist and post-impressionist artists ) was on a human scale and excellent to visit.  Musee Carnavalet (Museum of the History of Paris) was also a good experience – FM said she thought it might be better going two or three times.

But perhaps the most significant difference was in our views about what is important and therefore should be the focus of spending our time.  FM is a fashionista – hard core and many of her favourite designers are here and in London.  So shopping – the real exchange of serious wads of cash and the indolent wandering – flaneur-style around the cities are her priority.  My kind of Y chromosome carrier detests shopping in all its forms – so we have trod a careful compromise of DIY.  More Shakespeare and Co for me than any number of designers.  And more time to take it easy, read, drink wine and coffee and eat (oh, my fat and growing torso) for me.

Getting back to your reluctance to travel as sightseers, I think the internet and international security and all the hassles of travel are speaking loudly in support of your view.  If you want – for some reason – to see monuments, they are only as far away as google.

But shopping is apparently not like that.  I cannot imagine anyone being a monument-viewing-aholic.  Stuff from precisely the same designers in Paris is different in exclusive shops all over the world – and surprisingly little choice is available in Australia – relative to what you can see wandering (with intent) in Paris.  So for FM, the London and Paris designer-specific shops have been a real eye-opener.  And so too were the shops in Singapore.  You really (apparently) do have to be there to feel the width.

A tiny snip of the Orchard Rd Retail Megatropolis

Australians have for years spoken of Singapore as a Mecca of shopping.  It was incredible in terms of the scale of the retail universe there.  But perplexing too.  There was shop after shop after shop all selling the same “exclusive” brands.  Exclusive by cost, not by availability, believe me.  I’m surprised that a Zegna suit failed to attach itself to me just through repeated exposure.  for reasons of personal financial safety, I’m OK about not returning to the Asian capital of retail.

As a person somewhat interested in information technology, I paid a special visit to the “Can’t Remember Jalan Centre”.  A tired and dilapidated, if not downright grubby octagonal building of six stories each with a double ring of mainly small one man stores, many temporarily closed or just plain dead, met my countenance.  Hundreds of little businesses all selling much of a muchness with a little specialisation in communications, security or whatever, here and there.  Things have clearly moved on from the cowboy PC with everything days.  The Apple stores are nowhere to be seen in this retail backwater.  They are amongst the high fashion stores.  And they are packed to the raffles with products and customers clamouring for today’s and tomorrow’s IT.

This is in itself surprising, because anyone with a quid can buy any Apple product from the comfort of their own house without ever having to step outside.  But Apple have made their technology and their retail palaces cool places to be and to be seen.

So maybe that’s where the 21st century monuments will be found.  Not in the expensive real estate of major cities far away, but on the desk in the spare bedroom – now called “the home office”.  And since the internet can usually provide us with a picture of just about anything, I think it will be OK to pull down the Eiffel tower and build a few more Apple and Big Mac stores – and save us the cost and hassle of the trip and the bother of the retail zone.  It’ll be locals only – but then, we are all locals anyway, are we not ?

Alternatively, perhaps we can take a leaf from Lehan’s book and send a hologram of ourselves to visit a hologram of the Eiffel tower – just so we can, with some confidence, say “yeah, haven’t been there, done that.”

Come and See the Real Thing

19 Thursday Apr 2012

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Uncategorized

≈ 22 Comments

Peach Buns

Painting and Story by Lehan Winifred Ramsay

Long long ago, we had trouble with our Tobacco Machines. They got a little ambitious, a little entrepreneurial. Started to think they could play with reality;  mix in other nice things with our tobacco – make it sweeter, more fragrant, mature, sexy. Started to think that if they could just get us interested younger, we’d be theirs for life. They forgot that the reason we liked smoking was to give us a warm relaxed feeling. Cancer doesn’t do that, nor do the reproaches from those around us. It wasn’t until the financial burden of medical treatment outgrew the tax windfall that governments chose to listen to what Cancer had been telling us for some time. Cigarettes might just be good for taking the edge off life, but perhaps not so good for edging life out the window and onto a ledge. There were people who needed some relief, but the Tobacco Machines made cancer where none was needed.

But we have new Smoke Machines. They seem the same innocent product peddlers that our Tobacco Machines did in their youth. Now they’re peddling the picture, rather than the product. Because they’re Middle Men – Middle Mad Men. They sell the image (cool young men and women, in love, stop for a cigarette, he with the match, she with the lips). But the product? We don’t produce product any more, it’s expensive, it’s tiring, it’s third-world. The problems of the Tobacco Machines and the Asbestos Machines and the Nuclear Machines have made us a little averse to liability, too.

The new Smoke Machines make us augmented reality. Reality augmented with product. Down the sides of our newspapers, augmented news. Down the sides of our entertainment videos, augmented entertainment. Down the sides of our real estate sites, augmented real estate. It’s all property; unlimited property.

Down the sides of my reality now, online or off, is a stream of virtuality. Not-real people, dancing in hologram, invade my real life, and real links to my real stream of online browsing invade my newspapers. I do not any longer know if I read news because it is there or because it is being put there for me, cunning infomercials. But the newspaper world online leaks into the real world, it doesn’t stay where it belongs. Is my reality being augmented? Or is my data – my new DNA – being corrupted.

People don’t know, when they fall into mental illness, that that is the new world they inhabit. They think it’s the world they’ve always occupied. When the page on the computer starts to talk to them – only them – and the world in the computer starts to mirror the world inside their heads, it seems real enough. Perhaps it is? The image producers and online real estate peddlers – our new Smoke Machines – are peddling something that approximates mental illness.

I had a dream: a vision. I saw myself dancing, performing in Coachella, on stage. Was that me? I thought it was me, they were my tattoos, it was my body.Or was it someone else? Or a delusion, a hologram, a fake.

Travel adventures behind the Computer

16 Monday Apr 2012

Posted by gerard oosterman in Uncategorized

≈ 14 Comments

Travel adventures behind the Computer.

April 15, 2012

It’s almost two years since our departure from our lovely farm. We have nestled down very nicely. The books have found their place on the shelves, knives and forks in the right trays and chairs’ restless rotating around different spots have calmed as well.

It is strange how with age one seems to find domestic permanency a much more pressing need than when young. Moving around comes with youth. I was looking at the travel section of the Herald yesterday. “Fancy fourteen days on a Rhine cruise” I asked H? “I don’t know”, “depends on the company that we might have to share the dining table with”, answered H.

Too right, just imagine the horrors of some pro-Hanson or anti boat people sharing the lasagna with, or, leaning over the railing surveying yet another Castle perched on a rocky outcrop at Karlsruhe, a remark “ I wonder how Mavis is going with her divorce from that bastard Jason at Wollongong?”

We have perused many travel options and all seem to have lost the appeal of exploration or sight-seeing. I am and was never one to visit ‘sights’ and the Niagara Falls or Machu Picchu will have to forget the Oostermans ever visiting them. The ‘Mother Temple’ in Bali might have to be included as well. We never managed to go there despite having visited that island of magic many times. Walt Disney’s fun parks, oh no never. Never even been a fan of comic strips except ‘Eric the Norseman’,  which my dear old Aunt Agnes would cut out of her Amsterdam newspaper and sent it by post to me in The Hague. I remember one episode whereby a man’s head was chopped off by a large and evil man lifting his sword. I dwelled on that for months. I read yesterday, that children are naturally drawn to stories that include much sadness. Chopping a head off is a sad thing, very permanently sad.

The one travel option we are still dwelling over is the possibility of going to France or Italy and just rent an apartment and live a bit like the locals, observe all the going ons of a ‘normal life’ but set in a different country with different language and cultural habits. I’ll just have to Google all the available apartments in Rome or Paris.

I’ll put on the coffee now, can’t wait to go and travel around on the Internet.

Tags: Paris, Rome. Posted in Gerard Oosterman | Edit |   Leave a Comment »

Poodling on the Ritz

15 Sunday Apr 2012

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay, Entertainment Upstairs

≈ 21 Comments

Tags

Poodle, Ritz, Taco

She moved as might a monarch approaching the opening of some great show,  preceded by a minion leading a miniature poodle.

She stopped, surveying her realm left and right, squatted and delicately placed three perfectly formed turds on the satin granite pavement.  No hurry.

Her minion waited ahead, indifferent to the Ritz doormen who feigned not noticing her indiscretion.

The standard poodle rose like a filling spinnaker, full of self-importance and padded on with careless graceful steps deigning to look neither left or right.

One white-gloved doorman withdrew to the telephone in arrears and delegated the unpleasantness to the Mairie – who delegated the job to a north African more appropriately positioned for the actual removal of the faecal treasures now adorning the forecourt.

This girl knew social ordure.  She knew her place – elevated by the wealth of her owner; above the niceties and social graces of polite company.  She was Canus aristocraticus and that was that.  Her minion knew his place too.  Minions of lesser beings – perhaps the bourgeoisie would be expected to scoop, bag and withdraw everything except their dignity – the ghost of which would remain there on the pavement.   But not this chap.  He was not a groveller to mere doormen, Ritz or no Ritz.  They were just draft stoppers in plush uniforms they didn’t even own, (but for which they paid their own laundry costs) and he was not obligated to treat them with anything greater than the poodle’s disdain.

The doormen were practiced nose downlookers and they adored exercising their imagined status by applying their stonewalling indifference on rubber necked passers-by.  Even Dolce and Gabbana-clad bling monsters.  No, particularly D&G bling monsters.  Gold was not class and bling was certainly not class.  You may park your Maserati momentarily here sir.  I’m sorry sir, but we just don’t have the space for sir’s BMW.

It was not their job to doff a white glove, don a rubber glove and abduct a Richard the Third.  But they were growing concerned at the time being taken by the Mairie’s man to appear.  They conferred.  There were discrete utterances from corners of mouths, cheesy smiling at residents entering and leaving the hotel and subtle body language suggesting that sir and madame might prefer an upwind route for the moment.

It was decided.  The youngest doorman – perhaps a doorboy was despatched and returned at a clip with an empty poubelle which he gently placed upended over the still steaming pile.  This had the effect not so much of warding passers by off or preventing them from stepping in the offending ordure, but it seemed to create a kind of public exhibit.  Passers by gathered to see the Ritz’s latest piece of installation art.

The Mairie’s  emergency van arrived.  Out sprang two men in blackface in overalls with brooms.  The tall one approached the upturned bin with due caution.  The short one pushed back the growing crowd.

The tall man carefully lifted the upturned bin, placed it on his head – helmet like, tapped the ground twice with the end of his broom stick.  The short man stood next to him and eyed the doormen.  He tapped his broomstick twice on the ground … and sang “If you’re blue and you don’t know where to go to, Why don’t you go to where fashion shits ?  Put one on the Ritz…….”

Editor’s Note:  The Ritz is a fine organisation and no way does Emmjay or anyone vaguely resembling Emmjay have any hard feelings just because they closed the Hemingway Bar and denied him a nostalgia dry martini.  But some of this story is true.  We are led to believe that the faecal matter was removed but according to Emmjay, not while he was there.

Do the Reggay

13 Friday Apr 2012

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Algernon, Bands at the Pig's Arms, Entertainment Upstairs

≈ 39 Comments

Tags

Bob Marley, Jimmy Cliff, Peter Tosh, Reggae, Toots and the Maytals

Playlist by Algernon

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fchEBChUkck

Do the reggae – Toots and the Maytals

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LanCLS_hIo4

Three Little Birds – Bob Marley & The Wailers

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1SN7Pko_jCM&feature=fvwrel

Equal rights – Peter Tosh

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ERiTX9Pa23c

Funky Kingston – Toots and the Maytals

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=83Y2hv-3UCM

Israelites – Desmond Dekker

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxNsRJrRJ9k

You can get it if you really want – Desmond Dekker

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xGE4dnrPPZQ

The harder they come – Jimmy Cliff

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gGFiYRKVQsc

Dreamland – Bunny Wailer

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E0353JkFk7Y&feature=fvwrel

No woman no cry – Bob Marley & The wailers

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z8lCT8WZAH0

Reggee Fever – Steel Pulse

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lOhBOdxO6Hg&feature=related

Slavery Days – Burning Spear

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q8VLlVU7En4

Now that we’ve found love – Third World

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZC6Ot1MLP0

Madness – Prince Buster

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JPk2Q-AZyT0

Silver words  – Ken Boothe

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WQriZQbTcjk

Police & Thieves – Junior Murvin

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXt56MB-3vc

Red Red Wine – UB40

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nv584jRwh0s

Exodus – Bob Marley & the Wailers

 

The Mini Wi-Fi amongst the Hebes

12 Thursday Apr 2012

Posted by gerard oosterman in Gerard Oosterman

≈ 18 Comments

The mini Wi-Fi amongst the Hebes

April 11, 2012

We remain amazed that the second largest Internet-Phone provider would advise a long time customer to try and put the mini wi-fi in the garden. After almost 2 years being bound to an E960 wireless system combining Internet and free phone we increasingly were dropping out and were advised to go for the mini wi-fi. We duly received this new device and were originally ecstatic that finally our problems would be solved

. Of course, after so many years of having survived life in general, we ought to by now have grown up with enough savoir sine qua non to know that problems are a permanent part of life just like the annual weeds popping up on the foot-path or having to cut ones toenails. The problem with all businesses is that they want to sell and make profits, and in the process all honesty and morals are chucked aside.

We always wondered why they did not advice us just to get a cable connection, surely that should have been a first option. ? No, all the time, hour after hour, day after day, we dealt with heavily accented technical Philippine or Chinese experts who inevitably advised us to try this and click on that, upgrade to something else.

Finally after years of wrangling we were ready to throw in all and hurl ourselves into the local creek, when it finally came out that a normal cable connect telephone service wasn’t available from that provider in our street or area. That’s what it was all about. They did not want to lose out on a customer.

In the meantime, as if Internet and phone services had not got us into enough trouble already, I signed up with a Friendly Aussie Phone Co on a mouth watering touch-screen free phone with $ 100.- free credit every month. I could not loose, especially when I don’t use the mobile service much at all. For some reason, getting older involves getting less calls and also making less calls. Perhaps many of similar age(d) by then have given up or are dozing off somewhere in a park or library pretending to brush up on Patrick White literature or a foreign language…

I get my first account from the friendly Aussie  Phone Co for $79. – And a horrendous list of numbers with extraordinary charges per second. I kept getting ‘missed calls’ necessitating me ringing back on this ‘free mobile’. It transpires that reception or ‘coverage’ as they like to call it isn’t very good here. This results in calls being listed as ‘missed calls’ whenever someone has the temerity to call us. I drive somewhere were ‘coverage’ is normal and I get this list of missed calls. I phone back ‘on the ‘free mobile’, and get charged per second. I am now ‘locked’ in with this friendly provider for two years, can’t even get another mobile service without a court case or a new mobile number. A blind rage is sometimes welling up now.

It’s all so hopelessly complicated. Remember when a phone was something hanging from the wall? Now, almost everyone is hooked on fiddling with a device with tiny knobs or, in case of a touch screen, swiping and splaying fingers across a little square. All eye contact is avoided and conversation stifled. Six out of every eight pedestrians meet up with cars while fiddling with a device. We truly are connected.

I sometimes feel like joining the mini wi-fi underneath the Hebes or go out and strangle a sheep…

Tags: Internet.Aussie, WiFi Posted in Gerard Oosterman | Edit |

A p p L E D

11 Wednesday Apr 2012

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Lehan Winifred Ramsay

≈ 37 Comments

Tags

Apple, Education, LED, School, Technology

Our Lady

Painting and Story by Lehan Winifred Ramsay

Where does education come from? The shop. The shop where the applications come from, the tablet comes from. But not where the school comes from, nor the teachers. We might say that the technological corporations will become the institution, and the teachers and schools will become the software and hardware for distributing them.

Technology’s best trick is always to change the way we understand things to be. An invisible cloak? This does not mean that it is invisible, it just means that we can’t see it. The same trick with education, which is getting pushed and pummelled over a degree or too until it means “access”. Is it such a big difference, that while access used to be the ability to get into a school, it now means the ability to have an internet connection and a device for looking? Is it possible for me too to change my thinking about this, to consider that schools have for too long had control of education, that freeing it up might just give us something new?

But I find education about technology to be a little shallow, more of a review than a critique, more instruction than reflection, and I wonder if education through technology will be more of the same. Not surprising then, that RMIT is leading the way in Teacher re-education by introducing its new Behaviour Capability Framework; guidelines for the way one should present oneself as an RMIT employee. But can we really blame short-attention-spanned HR/PR practices for this? Surely we could have foreseen the moment that technology took on education and won?

We are all heading for the clouds. Up in the clouds is everything we do, deliberately and absentmindedly, and that everything is becoming us. We don’t need to know everything any more. We just need to know how to find it. We can review it, we can critique it and it’s not even possible any more to edit it. Soon it will be difficult to critique it too, as criticism turns itself ever-so-slightly and becomes a negative behaviour, and we will stop that, forgetting we ever had the power to do so. Technology’s second best trick, after all, is to quickly replicate itself, removing a feature here or there, that we quickly forget we ever had.

Education is heading toward becoming a search engine. Not, though, until search engines are superseded by the next big data retrieval system. Leaving us always a little behind in our capabilities. We need to know how to find things. Technology needs to know what we can find. So sadly, though we might dream of education breaking from its archaic bonds and becoming a revolutionary force, it’s unlikely to happen.

I don’t dream of that. Education breaking from its archaic bonds. I like technology. I like it because it babysits me when I am bored and at the boundaries of my physical environment. I like to read, and write, and think. Technology gives me crayons and scraps of paper, and when I am bored, something pink or flashing. It helps me to remember that I am a Lifelong Learner, and it tells me where and how to get my education. This education is very nice to me, it encourages me to start and doesn’t get strict with me when I stop. Oh, that’s okay. Pick it up when you feel like it. It lets me pick and choose and move on if I’m bored, and best of all it lets me feel like I am really smart. Not like education used to be. I found it difficult! Even, at times, a struggle!

But we have a good relationship now, technology and me, and I can be who I am. Who I am is a little limited, of course. I am a dilettante, a dabbler, a jack-of-all-trades. I now have a motivational quotation for everything. A bit like a specialist in HR/PR, I now have at my fingertips the wisdom of the world’s greatest thinkers. And what did Einstein say about that? Something inspirational, I’ll just go look it up.

I don’t have to rely on myself any more. I think that has made me a better person. Other people seem to have done and said things that where much smarter than I would. So it makes sense to draw upon their experience, instead of having to do whatever I am doing again. And again, till I get it right. And again, till I bloody understand it.

I like those tablets. I am hoping that they will soon make one that I can swallow. Pictures of cheap shoes will appear in my eyeballs, and my fingers will twitch to touch something, shooting sensory memory-like data back into my nerve endings which I will recognize only as inherent knowledge – my own wisdom, my own intuitions. Isn’t that where we’re going with tablets? Or have I got the technology industry confused with the medical industry? I’ll just check. Oh. It’s Moses. Not Pfizer. Anyway I like them, though I wish they would make them as small as my Smart Phone, so I can hang them both around my neck.

In FACT I want to be able to hook them together, my tablet and my Smart Phone. If you put them together, they would give you TWICE the screen size! That would be very, very cool. Perhaps I could get them to argue with each other about what I should do next. Though probably only if they were products from each of the two rival groups. Being Smart, though they would probably resort to trickery, an attempt to discredit each other’s information, until I was well and truly confused. What would I do then? I would put them on the ground, take a stick, stand it up, and choose the device it fell toward.

Education comes from the shop. It has always come from the shop. It’s not a small thing, to remember that. Shops are nothing new. All those pithy quotes by our world leaders are Shop Talk of old. Nothing new there, HR/PR people.

Safer Chinese Umbrella

10 Tuesday Apr 2012

Posted by gerard oosterman in Gerard Oosterman

≈ 3 Comments

The safer Chinese Umbrella

April 2, 2012

It is rather intriguing why we would feel so happy to have America’s defense force positioning itself inside Australia’s territory. It seems bizarre and frightening to have a nation’s armed forces, much better known for guns, warring and fighting than for peace, within our borders. I have yet to learn about China’s involvement in any wars around the globe. Where is the rationale that we should fear the East, while America’s drones are flying around bombing terrorist suspects at random?

I am surprised that no article has a yet appeared on the ABC’s Drum questioning the wisdom to do so. There almost seemed to be an air of jubilant acceptance about it. A nice strip on a Cocos Island has been eyed off for drones to be used. It was all taken in our stride. Could we not have stayed out of this alliance involving troops and drones on our soil? What will our neighbors think of us? They might well close the curtains even tighter.

I know that China is economically invading the world but we are not against that at all, in fact we love to sell them anything we can dig up. No probs. There seems to be an accepted belief that America will forever be the savior of the world, a kind of almost omnipotent force of good and benevolence. The evidence coming from the locals in Afghanistan is less lofty in their praise for America’s spreading of sweetness and goodness…

Surely, the best option is not to have any foreign troops on our soil. But…, if we must, would it not be more logical to invite the Chinese to grace our shores with their presence. Surely, with their proven record not to get involved so easily into the world’s trouble spots it would serve us much better. There would be less chance of us getting involved in useless fighting at the drop of a hat.

America has an obsession with safeguarding the world from itself, and at the same time ensuring that our soldiers continue risking their lives in areas too far for our own good. What threat has Iraq or Afghanistan ever posed to Australia?

We now are almost incapable of looking after the casualties of all that fighting. A report on our treatment on refugees could not be starker in how we failed even in providing the most basic care. Over five hundred children in detention. What have they done? We are lucky that no one has mentioned ‘The Hague’ yet. There is still time though.

The UNHCR has often mentioned our inhumane treatment of refugees and the indigenous. Last week Chris Bowen was trying to bumble his way through Emma Alberici questioning of our appalling and dreadful treatment of refugees. He was still defending it. Even Asio admitted that identity checks can be done in most cases within a few days. So, why detention for over a year?

The reason it seems: so that the message will go back to those refugee countries. “Think twice before coming here”. “We will detain you and treat you so badly that you’ll rue the day your leaky boat ever landed near Australia.

Australia has now achieved that dubious distinction. It is the last country of choice by refugees. Some distinction, isn’t it? We finally achieved it. How utterly devoid of humanity we have become.

No, I think we should invite our friendly China to consider landing to our North. I am sure they would in no time develop it into a very lively, friendly and prosperous part of our continent. With all that water about, the NT would soon be a food basket for the hundreds of millions surrounding us. That’s right; we could, with Chinese ingenuity become the bread basket of Asia.

Food instead of drones.

Tags: afghanistan, America, Asio, Australia, Boat People, China, Cocos Islands, drones, the Hague

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