Bon voyage, Mom.

Mom left for the States yesterday morning, ending her nearly 10-week visit to Australia. Hope she enjoyed her stay. Aradhna and I will miss her.

Sick, sick f*cks ...

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Osama bin Laden Needs to Attack America
thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Jason Jones in Iran

It's left to Jon Stewart to blast the latest murderous rhetoric courtesy of right-wing demagogues:

SCHEUER: The only chance we have as a country right now is for Osama bin Laden to deploy and detonate a major weapon in the United States....only Osama can execute an attack which will force Americans to demand that their government protect them.

Exactly what could be more disloyal, more unpatriotic, more treasonous, than this?

Imagine a pair of progressive commentators espousing the slaughter of US citizens. They'd be hounded night & day by the cretinous Malkin/O'Reilly/Limbaugh/Hannity militias. How -- HOW?? -- are right-wing haters of true democracy like these two piles of excrement allowed to titillate the lunatic fringe this way?

Meet the new Senator.

Senator-elect Al Franken and wife Franni wave to supporters after Republican Norm Coleman ended his court fight over the Senate seat he held for one term, conceding to the former 'Saturday Night Live' and 'Air America' mainstay after the Minnesota Supreme Court ruled in Franken's favor. His victory gives the Democrats 60 votes in the Senate, enough to override Republican filibusters and (however unlikely) presidential vetoes.

When Franken published Rush Limbaugh Is a Big Fat Idiot in 1996 it was a lone voice in an arena dominated by right-wing gasbags cashing in on the enmity caused by Bill Clinton's wildly successful Democratic presidency (Blowjobgate notwithstanding). His follow-up -- a brilliant excoriation of Bill O'Reilly and the right-wing bullshit brigade behind Fox News in Lying Liars and the Liars Who Tell Them -- made him a hero with 'lefties' and solidified his credentials as a liberal spokesperson.

I remember listening to the debut of Air America and 'The O'Franken Factor' in April 2004 in the midst of The Miserable Failure's reign. It was a dollop of hope in a massive Bush/Cheney/Rumsfeld shitpile. Let's hope his ascension into the US Senate fulfills that hope -- and drives right-wing haters bonkers!

It's a roos' life.

After getting a tip from friends at Wildlife Victoria, mom and I made the 90-minute drive to Ballarat Wildlife Park on Friday to see their impressive mob of roos (above).

Per Narelle at Wildlife Victoria, most of roos here have been rescued and transported from Western Australia. They've obviously become comfortable with humans -- as my mom discovered, when one came up behind her and began gnawing on her paper bag of roo food.
Mom makes a 'buh-dey', as she would say.
Like every other warm-blooded creature, roos enjoy a hearty neck rub.
Most of the roos were enjoying a siesta in mid-afternoon sunshine (below). Only a few, like this guy, approached us food-bearing humans.

A joey surveys the sunny scene from mama's pouch.
Another joey burrows into mama's pouch. His legs don't quite fit.
Other animals roam the park's grounds ... we'll have a look at them in a future post.

The Fox News Clown Show rolls on.

Another Republican conservative admits he's a flaming bag of hypocrisy -- this time a South Carolina governor who's been mentioned as a possible Republican presidential candidate caught cheating on his wife -- and the clowns at Fox News do what they do best: 'Mistakenly' label this latest Republican disgrace a Democrat.

Accident? Not when it's part of a pattern, as shown by Crooks & Liars. Fox News clearly perceives its audience as simpletons. How it's become a mouthpiece for the very people it treats with such contempt is a mystery to me.

Lunch in the Dandenongs.

Mom and I took a 30-minute ride to Sassafras in the Dandenong Ranges yesterday. A short walk through ferntrees (above) and a couple curio shops preceded meeting Sassafras resident Emily at the very popular Miss Marple's Tea Rooms for lunch.

Miss Marple's Tea Rooms.
Mom and Emily behold a pair of daunting desserts.
Looking west on a winter afternoon.

This morning's view.

Sunrise view from the Bean Counter Cafe, across from the Fairfield train station.

In the presence of greatness.

It's been 3 days since fellow Wildlife Victoria volunteers and I were called to rescue this kangaroo in Diamond Creek in Melbourne's northwest, roughly 25 kms from the CBD. Three days, and I've thought of little else.

Here's the tale.

I'd dropped my mom off at Melbourne Airport -- she's in Alice Springs on a 3-day tour of Australia's 'Red Centre' -- and was having coffee at a cafe in Fairfield when Narelle from Wildlife Victoria called. She was heading to Bundoora to check on what I thought she said was a 'downed kangaroo' and wondered if I could help. I finished my coffee and rendezvoused with her and 3 volunteers an hour later. We drove the fenced perimeter of LaTrobe University in search of a kangaroo that had escaped the animal sanctuary within. It was soon spotted, and we herded it through a perimeter gate. While we filled gaps beneath the fence Narelle received a call about a roo in Diamond Creek. We were soon back on the road.

View from the property we were called to in Diamond Creek.
Look closely: Those grey specks on the hillside comprise a mob of roos sunning themselves.
Unfortunately, this roo had tangled itself in the remains of carelessly strewn wire fencing that stretched around this property with the same destructive potential of glass shards on a beach promenade. He was standing when we arrived. Six-feet-tall, rippling with muscle, unable to flee but unafraid. Proud. Us newbies hung back while Narelle, probably Wildlife Victoria's most experienced, skilled and compassionate member, and another colleague assessed the situation. I was afforded a closer look at this tall, hulking creature through the viewfinder of a camcorder. It's that image I carry in my mind.

Narelle determined the roo would be impossible to free if conscious, so a few of us drove to a Wildlife Victoria-friendly vet in Coburg to purchase the dose required to knock out a 6-foot roo. Narelle and her experienced colleague used a long pole to inject him.

We waited for the drug to take effect before approaching him. I crouched about 10 metres away, watching him closely. The double dose Narelle had given him was working fast. He shook his head slowly from side to side, like a stoned hippie pondering the everyday cruelty of this world. Or, hopefully, reliving the joys of bounding through the bush without a care in the f*cking world.
A fellow newbie volunteer approached him in a non-threatening manner -- slowly and low to the ground. As soon as she'd covered his head with a blanket, decreasing his stress, the rest of us approached. I was 'assigned' the task of keeping his hips from moving, but he was mostly incapacitated by the injections. He was warm, heavy, furry. We lifted his massive upper-body and slipped it into a 'roo bag', in case he woke up and began flailing.
Narelle inspected his wounds. Sadly -- tragically -- the wire had wrapped itself around his right leg up to the hip, cutting into flesh, exposing bone. Narelle used a wire cutter while I pulled back the skin. Along with the bulk of his right leg, the lower portion of his left leg had gotten entangled, resulting in terrible wounds and major soft tissue damage, a result of at least (but mostly likely more than) 24-hours of trying to escape this awful fate.

I'm actually getting upset writing this so I'm going to keep the rest short. After we removed the wire, Narelle washed his wounds and put on a brave face about his potential recovery. We wrapped his wounds in clean towels and lifted him completely into the roo bag. We carried him to Narelle's ute, where he slept peacefully. He was brought to a vet, but his wounds were too grave. He was euthanised.

I feel lucky to help such dedicated volunteers but am shattered by the senselessness of this animal's death. Please ... if you're a landowner, clear your property of unnecessary wires. So a story like this doesn't need to be written.

Hypocrisy is funny!

Today:

Sen. John Ensign today acknowledged an extramarital affair with a member of his campaign staff.

In 2004:

"Marriage recognizes the ideal of a father and mother living together to raise their children," Ensign said. "Marriage is the cornerstone on which our society was founded. For those who say that the Constitution is so sacred that we cannot or should not adopt the Federal Marriage Amendment, I would simply point out that marriage, and the sanctity of that institution, predates the American Constitution and the founding of our nation. Marriage, as a social institution, predates every other institution on which ordered society in America has relied."

Extra bonus hypocrisy!:

Ensign is considered a leading voice among social conservatives in the GOP. In 1998, as a House member running against Reid, he called on President Bill Clinton to resign after revelations about his affair with a White House intern. "He sent taxpayer-paid staff out to lie for him, and that is a misuse of office," Ensign said, adding that the president had "no credibility left."

C'mon, right wingers ... speak up! Get on the record! It brings us sinful, heathen liberals so much JOY when you prove what lying, two-faced, Bible-thumping, homophobic, self-righteous tools you are!

Before & after.

Good thing we visited the Twelve Apostles when we did. I took the photo above during our trip; the photo below appeared in a local paper this morning.

Racism doesn't dissipate. It metastasizes.

F*cking racists ... an 88-year-old white supremacist has shot and killed a security guard at the National Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC.

At this moment, at the front window of hopscotch espresso cafe in Elsternwick, I'm literally around the corner from the Jewish Holocaust Center. It sits on a quiet side street off busy Glenhuntly Rd. An eternal flame burns outside. I've passed it dozens of times.

Today, I'll pay it a visit.

Indian outrage in Melbourne.

Australia's most multi-cultural city has made international headlines recently, for a very wrong reason. Indian students, fed up with getting bashed and mugged in Melbourne's western suburbs, have protested en masse (photo left), formed vigilante 'guard groups' outside at least one train station, and taken their case to Indian news outlets, who've splashed the racial abuse of Indians in Melbourne across front pages for several days now.

Thousands of Indian students attend university in Australia. Many desire to live here permanently, providing Australia with desperately needed skilled labour. While Australia's reputation as a tolerant nation is taking a PR hit, this crisis will only be acted upon when students return to India and future students begin paying exorbitant tuition payments to universities outside of Australia.

I don't think Australia is more racist than any other majority Caucasian country. Like most urban areas, the further you get from Melbourne's inner city, the more you're likely to encounter ignorance, prejudice and uneducated fools. Indians are seen as soft targets: They carry cool gadgets and don't have a reputation for fighting back. They're victimized by cowards with small knives and screwdrivers. The major problem -- besides a moronic mentality that considers beating on brown-skinned people as sport -- is alcohol. A night out for Aussie teens invariably involves getting blasted. Not drunk -- blasted, blotto, beyond bombed. Of course it's not an excuse -- I'd love to confront a pack of drunken Aussies hellbent on abusing a person of color and crack each of their skulls with a baseball bat.

But that's what cops should be doing. And they're not. THAT's what's got the Indian community up in arms. They know justice shouldn't be tethered to a major withdrawal of Indian money from the Aussie economy. It should be meted before someone ends up dead.

Great Ocean Road, pt II

The highlight of our trip along the Great Ocean Road was the Twelve Apostles. We arrived late in the afternoon, leaving the most famous view of the 'stacks' in shadow but, by traveling a bit further down the road, offering wonderfully bright views from the west (above).

Even in shadow, the stacks are a marvel.





Just south of the Twelve Apostles are tiny inlets ringed by massive walls. This one's called Loch Ard.


The Great Ocean Road leaves the coastline shortly after the Twelve Apostles and back into cattle country. We headed into the barest hint of a pink sunset on our way to Warrnambool, where we spent the night.

25 years burnin' down the road ...

Jeff sent me an email. Thought I'd reprint it here:

June 4, 1984 Born in the USA was released. My memories (as I am sure I shared in a 20th Anniversary email). Riding to the Morris County Mall around 2 pm or so, buying the casette version. I forgot the name of the record store there, isn't that too bad. But, I remember all the records I bought there, actually mainly cassettes in those years.

Driving back towards Parsippany, listening to the record. Songs that immediately stood out, especially 'Working on the Highway'.

Back to your place where we had a listening party barbecue, with I believe Rich and Ed stopping by. I remember 'I'm On Fire' for some reason sticking in my head during this listening, which at that point, was the second listening of that album.

It was a nice warm day, unlike today here in NJ, the trees were in full bloom, our youth was in springtime bloom and our dreams were as of then unfulfilled.

I believe the tour was announced shortly after that, and we at some point drove up to the Rockaway Mall in the Orange Bobcat (later to become a shed), on a then grass medianed Rt. 80. I know our trip to get tix at the mall was in vain, and we never did get tix, at least then.

Now, 25 years later, a couple of marriages for us both (1 for you, 1 for me), a couple of kids later (I have you beat there 2-0), here we are.

How lucky we were to be young, safe and yes, even Born in the USA.

Great Ocean Road pt I

Aradhna, mom and I took a weekend trip to Warrnambool along perhaps Australia's most beloved stretch of macadam: The Great Ocean Road. Built between 1918-32 by returned WWI servicemen, the road does little to obscure the landscape as it winds its way along Victoria's spectacular coastline.

The Great Ocean Road begins in Torquay, birthplace of Victoria's surf culture.
Bells Beach, another renowned stretch of surf.
Great Ocean Road hugging the coast.

We passed a handful of villages that are dormant in winter but packed to the gills in summer. Apollo Bay sits roughly at the mid-point of Great Ocean Road.
Just outside Apollo Bay.

R.I.P. Jay Bennett

Seems like yesterday Janine and I were following Wilco around. Seeing 'I Am Trying To Break Your Heart' at a tiny theatre in the Village the week it came out. Listening to records like 'Being There', 'Summerteeth', 'Yankee Hotel Foxtrot' and the collaborations with Billy Bragg over and over again.

Jay Bennett was a huge part of Wilco then. Jeff Tweedy threw him out after recording 'Yankee Hotel Foxtrot' and, for me, the band quickly lost its appeal.

Bennett died in his sleep over the weekend. He was only 45.

NPR's Bob Boilen posted a remarkable MySpace entry Bennett made last month that described his struggle to scrape up the cash and fortitude to have hip replacement surgery. Inconceivable that a man who brought such joy to so many people could die alone after years of pain -- pain that could have been remedied if health care was a universal commodity in the US. But ... it's not, and never will be.

Here's Bennett playing with Wilco back in the '90s:

Mom visits the MCG.

Mom attended her first footy game at the MCG on Saturday night, but even her full-throated cheering for the Tigers couldn't effect their inevitable 2nd-half collapse against the Essendon Bombers. Still, it was a fun evening, as we were met by Craig and his lovely wife Megan, shown smiling above.

Unseasonably warm weather made it a perfect night for footy.
Sadly, Richmond's record fell to a woeful 1-8 after losing a lead in the 3rd quarter and eventually falling by 40 points.

Mallacoota

After driving through country and coastal NSW on Sunday, mom and I stayed a night in isolated Mallacoota, just over the Victorian border. How isolated? It's bordered on 3 sides by a national park; the other is the picture postcard inlet shown above. Mostly deserted in winter, one can imagine it thronged with caravans in summertime.

Pelicans perch on Mallacoota's quiet foreshore.
This inlet was 'discovered' by white settlers in 1840.
Though a long day of driving to Melbourne awaited, mom and I spent a few hours wandering along Mallacoota's serene waterfront.
Eastern grey kangaroos outnumber Mallacoota's winter human population.
Mom stands in front of a magnificent, 400-year-old Mallacoota Blue Gum. A dying species, there's only a few dozen left in the world.
Locals of nearby Gipsy Point (that's how they spell it, even though the village was named for a 19th-century schooner named 'Gypsy') enjoy a lovely morning ...
... as does this mob of 'roos.

Cultural cavemen.

Sad but powerful column in today's normally hard-right Herald Sun opinion section. Rebecca Wilson details the "misogynism, the bullying, the victimisation and the personal attacks" she's endured after offering support for the victim of an NRL gang bang.

The victim's story was broadcast last week on an ABC program that revealed the participation of a high-profile former NRL player named Matthew Johns in the grotesquely degrading use of the then 19-year-old New Zealand waitress by a pack of Cronulla Sharks players in 2002. Fallout from the show resulted in Johns' sacking from the league's weekly TV show -- and for predictable 'But she consented!' wailing from male commentators that helped explain how a tradition of using women for gang bang 'team bonding' sessions over the years could be tolerated.

Wilson writes:

We have dared to publicly claim that Matthew Johns did the wrong thing -- that it was not about infidelity but about something far more sinister.

The gang-bang culture relates to male power and domination, rather than to issues of love and sex.

It is endemic to rugby league and it is foul behaviour by most sensible standards.

Yet because a naive 19-year-old said yes, and because Matthew Johns is a megastar, he should have been allowed to get away with it.

Rugby league is one of the last bastions of macho sporting culture in Australia.

It lives in a time warp because so many of its club bosses, coaches and administrators did exactly what their charges are doing now when they were players.

It took one female journalist, who doesn't normally work in sport, to rip the guts out of it and expose it to all Australians.

For her trouble, she has also uncovered an underbelly of vitriol within the sport that is shameful and has to be changed if the game is to survive in a modern world.

Along the NSW coast.

Two-day drive from Sydney along the Princes Highway meant brushing up against the coast in between long stretches of fertile pastureland (below). Photo above was taken in Kiama, about 120 km south of Sydney.

Mom waits in the car as I snap away at the scenery.
In Bega Valley -- Australian cheese country.

You know you're back in Melbourne ...

... when the front page of the paper is dedicated to a former footy player rejecting a 'Lifetime Achievement' award from the AFL because he believes he should receive 'Legend' status instead.

Front page news. At least the coffee's better here ......

Doom with a view.

Memories of high school basketball rushed back yesterday morning as I crumpled to the ground after tearing up my ankle. Aradhna, mom, sasuma and I had just parked beside the international passenger terminal in The Rocks. They were heading towards Sydney Tower and I was walking towards the harbour when 'CRACK', my right foot caught the smallest edge of a pothole and I went down like an unpoled circus tent. Two very sweet Aussie ladies offered assistance, as did a kindly cook from a nearby restaurant, who brought me a bag of ice. I sat in the sunshine with a panoramic view of The Rocks, Harbour Bridge, Sydney Opera House and Circular Quay and wondered if I'd finally broken something after multiple ligament tears suffered as a Parsippany Hills High School Viking basketball player. X-rays last night showed no fractures.

This'll teach me to leave Melbourne .....

Melbourne to Sydney

Mom and I headed to Sydney last Friday. The photo above was taken in the Blue Mountains, roughly 40 kms west of the Sydney CBD.

I took an inland route for the ride north (we'll follow the sublime southeast coast for the ride back to Melbourne). This route took us through a variety of charming Aussie towns, including Beechworth (above) and its seriously retro main street.
Fall colors were abundant in higher elevations.
The road to Wagga Wagga was a straight line -- literally -- treating us to a sunset on the left and moonrise (above) on the right.
Mom awaits hitting the road for Day 2. We stayed in Wagga Wagga, NSW for the night.
We wandered among Wagga's many shops on a perfect autumn morning.
Wagga's main drag.
A sign hanging within an organic licorice factory in the tiny NSW town of Junee.
We drove for several hours through 'country' NSW.
Mom didn't venture as close to this Blue Mountains ledge as I did -- she's either got more sense, or was worried I'd shove her over the edge after 2 days of driving!
A last look at the glorious Blue Mountains.

Strathewen

As noted in yesterday's post, recent wombat rescue calls to St Andrews and Strathewen have made real the devastation of February's Black Saturday. Strathewen is a tiny community tucked several kilometres from any main road. Amidst rolling hills and green paddocks it's staggering to consider that 27 people from this bucolic village of only 200 were killed. I arrived in Strathewen as a grey sky dissolved into the blackness of the scorched, silent terrain (above).

Driving to Strathewen I passed this paddock full of resting 'roos.
The road turned from green to brown, then black (below).


There may be nothing more beautiful than bright green spreading over black.
Remains of a large Strathewen home.
Just beside the roadside sat the remains of this small house. These photos were taken and are posted here with the utmost respect for the people of Strathewen who lost everything but hopefully did not lose their lives. The victims of that terrible day should never be forgotten.

Syntax under siege pt. V

Call it shallow, but the preponderance of poor and/or incorrect writing on the web never fails to crack me up. Here's a line from a pretentious job ad for a Copywriter:

Only true creative talent will be considered for ths position. Eligible candidates must show experience/flare for targeting a female audience.

Yes, only true creative talent would drop the 'i' in 'this' and mistake a device for signaling with instinctive talent.

Kinglake

Wombat rescue calls in St Andrews and Strathewen brought me to some of the areas hardest hit by the bushfires of February's Black Saturday. The photo above was taken along Heidelberg Kinglake Rd, which winds its way from St Andrews to Kinglake. Thirty-eight people perished in Kinglake, a devastating number for a community of 1500.

Welcome to Kinglake.

Remains of a business in Kinglake's former charming downtown.
This photo was taken from the front gate of what was once an idyllic mountain home.
One can only pray its inhabitants escaped to safety.
Many trees are covered with green shoots, a harbinger of resiliency.
Entire hillsides were scorched.
Just south of Kinglake it's majesty as usual in country Victoria.

This morning's view.

From a booth within Cafe No.5, tucked along a CBD laneway.

Healesville Sanctuary

Took a trip to Healesville Sanctuary on Saturday where mom met her first koala (above) and a menagerie of others.

A pair of 'roos enjoy afternoon sun.
Emus.
Echidnas.
Lyrebird.
Aradhna & mom await a birds of prey presentation.
One of the featured birds of prey -- a falcon. Note the people ducking their heads in front of me.
Koala.
Aradhna & mom debate the feasibility of kidnapping a 'roo.
More 'roos.

You can take the lady out of Tennessee ...

... but you can't take the desire for a box of Krispy Kremes out of the Tennessee lady.

Let's waterboard the neocons!

The specter of neocons rationalizing the indefensible would be funny if their rule hadn't brought about the ruination of the United States' standing as a nation of laws. WaPo's Dan Froomkin succinctly obliterates one such neocon's cowardly argument that torture is evil ... except when it isn't.

Mom's in Oz!

Took mom into the CBD for the first time yesterday. That's her in Treasury Gardens, above.
Mom beside the Fairies Tree in Fitzroy Gardens.
Skyline view from Treasury Gardens.
GPO's clock tower on Elizabeth Street in the CBD.

Massive news from America's heartland: 'Do You Realize??' by Oklahoma weirdos The Flaming Lips has been declared that state's official rock song. From Oklahoma Gov. Brad Henry:

The people voted for this, a song that most of all describes the people and the spirit of Oklahoma, and that best conveys the finite and sacred moments we have with those we love.

While a rock song wears an 'official' badge of any sort like a Hell's Angel wears French cuffs, it's still remarkable to see a band as odd and adventurous as the Flaming Lips recognized in a part of the U.S. normally associated with Very. Small. Thinking.

A Springsteen Incident

Anecdotal majesty from the always spectacular Janice Davidson:

So, Springsteen fan. Check this.

My brother takes his daughter (age 16) to see Springsteen two nights ago in Atlanta. She has become a fan despite, as a small child, pretending to throw up when he would play Bruce in the car. She brings a sign she made that says 'Incident' -- Bruce doesn't take it when he's collecting all of the song signs the first time around. At the end of 'Promised Land', with harmonica wailing, he reaches out -- takes her sign -- and tosses her his harmonica, freshly used. Plays 'Incident', Clarence does a little dance with her, Bruce keeps pointing at her. She's so ridiculously excited, they call me from the show, yelling what I could barely understand. I of course was so pumped up, but so secretly jealous that they were at the show without me. Anyway, had to share.

Envy all around, Janice. This photo says it all:Wonder if she's released her grip on the harmonica yet?

E-dissonance.

Headline & blurb atop today's Yahoo homepage:

U.S. Warns Mexico Travelers
Due to the swine flu outbreak, officials are advising against non-essential trips to Mexico.

Ad headline just below and to the right of this frightening blurb:
Escape to Mexico