washing machine from hell

Just a quick note - if you are feeling depressed and need something to cheer you up:

GO TO THIS LINK.

Actually, go to it even if you're already happy. It made my WEEK.

Make sure you read all the comments.

Update: This whole story has gotten pretty crazy - it's been on national news, so far almost 150,000 hits on the page, and a range of t-shirts have come out based on the illustrations. All over the last 24 hours. Crazy! The illustrations are now being sold for charity.

am I the antichrist?

I always get very irritable when the US elections come around again - no offence to American readers but if I have to read about politics every time I open a newspaper or magazine or watch the news, I prefer to be force-fed my own country's politics, which I actually have some say in.

But then I came across a Ship of Fools article. Ship of Fools is my favourite online Christian magazine, being subtitled "the magazine of Christian unrest", with its tongue firmly in cheek, and willing to laugh at the nuttier/scarier adherents to our faith out there.

This article asks the pertinent question: "Is Obama, like, the Antichrist?" Writer Steve Tomkins has done the rounds on a whole heap of blogs, which offer compelling evidence that Barack Obama is, in fact, the spawn of the Devil.

The Damning Evidence:
- "On the very day Obama became frontrunner in the election, we are told, the statue of Christ the Redeemer in Rio de Janeiro was struck by lightning."
- "Obama hails from Chicago whose zip code is 60606" - that's three sixes in a row!
- "Nostradamus prophesized the name of the antichrist is 'Mabus.' If you write obama+bush, you end up with obamabush. Do you spot 'mabus' in the middle? Bingo."
- "Obama could very well be the anti-christ, because he was born the year sodomy was decriminalized."
- Obama is left-handed, and "the Bible says that the Devil is left handed?" Yup. Sure.
- "The famous apocalyptic phrase 'Abomination of desolation' is an anagram of 'Obama in Sion, tool of end'."
- "Obama has said he hates Israel and Jews. Admires Hitler, Osama etc."

This was a huge shock for me. Not only had I believed Obama was no Satanist, I had also believed I had quite a good chance of being a Christian. How wrong I was!

For:
- in the year 1986, when I was born, the first PC virus started to spread. There were earthquakes, fatal fires, and plane crashes. The Cold War was ongoing!
- on the 30th October, which is my birthday, Antioch surrendered to Muslim forces in AD 637!! Likewise, the day I was born is also known as "Devil's Night" in Michigan.
- My name, when rearranged, can also read "Satan Reclaimed Song" or "Satan Genocidal Rems"!!!
- My zip code, when multiplied by my driver's license number, divided by my street number, and then multiplied by 2.3479, becomes 666!!!!
Isn't that evidence enough?!

if you read this post (and give me a million bucks) I'll give you free chocolate

Driving down Blenheim Road on the way home from university, I pass a certain shop which has put up a sign that says this:
*contented sigh* I would like to thank that shop from the bottom of my heart for lightening my evenings and putting a smile on my face.

just too cool...

So, I'm in a small group that does Bible studies every week, and every now and then we organise daytrips or weekends away for the group. Because everyone's pretty busy this year, we decided to just have a daytrip/fun-activity, which was last Tuesday, and this is pretty much how we decided on a destination...

Let's go to Willowbank! [sarcastic] (Willowbank is a small zoo in Christchurch)
Hahaha! Yes! Let's go to the zoo! [sarcastic]
....
Well, why not?
[General consensus - we are going to the zoo]
Hahaha! Let's go dressed up as animals!
Hahahahahaha! [snorting] Yes, that would be funny!
...
Really, let's!
Yeah, it would be funny!

Only five of us ended up going; the rest couldn't get off work for the day, or, I suspect, were a little too insecure in their coolness to go to the zoo dressed up as animals. We, however, are so insanely cool that verily I believe we have started a trend. At least, all the mums and dads and little kids seemed to like us. And the zookeepers. The animals didn't really seem to care. Although I have a theory - in the kiwi house the cheetah and I were treated to a demonstration of kiwi procreation techniques. Surely they wouldn't feel comfortable enough to do that in front of normal people? A cheetah and a tiger, however...

Just so you can see with your own two eyes how cool we are:

Our cheetah poses. Look closely at the picture; I painted her face and I am very proud of it.
The bumblebee and the peacock. You cannot see it here, but our peacock had six peacock feathers stuck into the back of her belt. Very styly.
Our zebra.
Aaaaaand, me. To be honest, I'm not sure how cool this photo really is. But I am willing to risk humiliation for this blog.

Speaking of wildlife, I came across this white-tail spider in our kitchen last night...
Eeeeek! I don't like killing ones that big because you can feel them crunch. So I kept him in that glass, drove ten minutes away and let him go in a big field.

things to do before I shuffle off this mortal coil

This is my list, inspired by Stacy's recent and wonderful one.

1. See the Northern Lights.

2. See a musical at West End, London. Preferably Les Miserables.

3. Ski on the advanced slope. This doesn't seem exactly major, I know, but I've only gone skiing once - crazy, since I live near the mountains - and I want to go again!

4. Take part in some sort of covert operation.

5. Do a Jane Austen pilgrimage in the UK.

6. Walk the Milford Track, Fiordland, New Zealand.

7. Ride a camel through the desert.

8. Learn how to play bagpipes.

9. See a volcano go up (preferably without getting killed).

10. See Shakespeare at the Globe. Preferably Othello or Macbeth.

11. Learn at least two languages other than English fluently.

12. Float in the Dead Sea.

13. Meet Bono, Edge, Adam and Larry. Discuss poetry. Be cool. Avoid hysterical meltdown consisting of "Oh. My. Gosh!"s.

14. Go to the Antarctic.

15. Swim with dolphins.

16. Be the first person to notice a spelling/grammar mistake in a major bestselling novel.

17. Have a baby.

18. Invent a chocolate that is good for your hips.

19. Go to the Metropolitan Opera in New York.

20. Find some natural hot springs somewhere in the wild in New Zealand and go for a dip.

21. Learn to dance.

22. Prove them wrong. Anyone.

23. Go to the British Museum and gain access to the non-public parts.

24. Work up the courage to hold one of these snakes in Bangkok. This is my sister-in-law and my niece about six years ago. I chickened out and took the photo instead of actually holding the snake. Always regretted it.

25. Take part in a major historical incident.

26. Have a "moment" across a crowded bar with someone famous, who afterwards talks about the mysterious girl they had a moment with across a crowded bar and who then disappeared forever. Preferably someone interesting/handsome.

27. Sit in a Parisian café wearing a beret discussing existentialism reading Waiting for Godot. I would say smoking a cigarette but there I draw the line.

28. Write a (good) novel.

29. Ride an elephant.

30. Go to an outdoor performance of Aida in Rome.

31. Have my own carrier pigeon.

32. Do a Sound of Music pilgrimage in Salzburg.

33. Go to Israel.

And that's about It, so far!

revolution simmering in the suburbs

Okay, so it's a long story, but about a week ago in New Zealand a Christian peace activist group called Anzac Ploughshares "attacked" the Waihopai spy base in Blenheim and deflated one of two huge satellite dishes, or at least, one of the covers that protect them from the weather. What followed: big hoohaa about NZ supporting US military interests; "yay for activism" versus "they're evil and delusional"; the three men making bail; protests in Blenheim at their arrest. The works. That's not so much my point.

What I wanted to write about: Among the protesters holding up signs in Blenheim was a group of women from Christchurch called the Addington Women's Revolutionary Craft Circle.

Cooooooooooooooool.

Apparently they started out as just a craft circle and got gradually more and more radical and left-leaning. Now they knit or sew or embroider Maori sovereignty flags, protest banners, and more. To be honest I find it hard to believe anyone would still think Communism is a good idea but I still think this is absolutely hilarious.

Do you ever get annoyed enough with the world that you want to become a revolutionary hockey player? a radically socialist flautist? an anarchist librarian? I can totally see myself doing this one day.

audience input needed

Because I am doing a sort of mini-thesis this year, I get to have a supervisor. My particular supervisor is wonderful, an incredibly helpful, funny and interesting Welshman whose speciality is in postwar Germany but who also has a soft spot for Soviet history, which is my area for this particular project. Because he's so great, he has four other Honours students as supervisees (is that a word?!). Today, however, me and another student (let's call her Mandy) started talking about the questions he asks us. As happened to her today, we walk into his office, all ready with our difficult questions and filled up to the ears with Soviet Russia, Social Darwinism, or whatever our particular topics happen to be. As Mandy said today, we say something like, "I just have three questions for you," and he replies something like this.

"Well, I have three questions for you."

Okaaaay. Uh-oh, he's going to ask us some incredibly difficult historically relevant questions that we will probably look like utter prats answering.

Actually, no.

"Do you like: tea or coffee after dinner? Cats or dogs? Friends or Sex and the City?"

On other occasions, it could be something like "Tell me three things you like doing in your spare time."

The other day, he asked me how things were going, I said "up and down", and he asked me to tell him one example of up, and one example of down.

So, one of the things I like about him is that he actually does take an interest in us. But when he puts you on the spot like that, especially when you've got three incredibly difficult history questions on the tip of your tongue, it can be very embarrassing. Personally, my mind goes entirely blank. One time, he said to me, "tell me something about you that I don't already know", and I stood in the doorway going "Um.... um.... um.... um..." and of course came off looking like an incredibly boring and inarticulate person.

So Mandy and I have been talking. We have decided next time we see him to turn this whole situation around on him, ask him the random questions before the meeting as such starts, and so we just need some seemingly random but interesting, non-history related questions to ask him. This is where you guys come in. Any suggestions will be much appreciated! Remember, we want to leave him at a loss for words.

voices

In the words of Freddie Mercury, I think I'm going slightly mad. Suddenly I've started noticing myself whispering to imaginary persons all the time. I imagine people I know or made-up people in conversation with me and come up with all these incredibly interesting answers. So I have been at home alone for a week, but most of my time is spent at university where I see other honours students even if no other human life crosses my path and I sit inside shrivelling into a little pile of Vitamin D-deprived caffeine-overloaded skin. Okay, moving on from that disgusting choice of self-description. The point is, it's not like I don't see people.

Besides this, I am happier than I've been in a while, being back at uni. Despite feeling completely overwhelmed. I'm excited and busy and I'm learning so much, besides finally being able to walk properly again. I get on so well with the rest of the honours class. I have my own desk with line of textbooks, map of Russia, Cyrillic alphabet chart, and family photos, and let's not forget the swivelly chair. A home away from home! (And that's nothing compared to the guy across from me who has a fruit bowl and a guitar!) Even my part-time job is so much fun right now, and I've just had a pay rise. Church is a blast and tomorrow it's Good Friday. I have to work at uni over Easter weekend (taking Sunday off) but we're all going to bring Easter eggs and hot cross buns so it really won't be that bad. My favourite tea is in good supply and I have a 6-pack of V in the fridge (my favourite energy drink). My sister sent me an incredibly cute photo by cellphone of my niece Ruby playing the piano today. I have learnt how to play the coolest Tchaikovsky piece ever on the piano. My siblings and I are organising a REALLY, wickedly awesome birthday present for my father's birthday which I know he'll love and about which I'm very excited.

So why have I started talking to myself?!?!

news?

My hometown newspaper - the Christchurch Press - has a reputation for being parochial, especially among my siblings. I would like to point out that over half of my siblings live in cities with infinitely worse newspapers (the Otago Daily Times, and The Worst, oops, West Australian, and Penang's newspaper which basically exists as a government advertisement), and to point out that the World News section in the Press is not bad at all and that the movie reviews are very good.

Today, however, my opinion of the Press has been drastically altered when I saw the front page article: "Who stole this blind boy's bike?"

The article starts, "A near-blind Christchurch albino boy is appealing to thieves to return his bike, which was stolen the first time he took it to school." This article, plus a huge picture of the little boy, takes up about half the front page.

There is something about these type of articles that makes me want to throw up. Yes, it's unfortunate, but hello? It's a bike! And he left it unlocked! As sad as it may be for him to lose it, I think page three or four at best, with maybe a small photo, would be sufficient. It's shameless use of someone's personal problems to generate media points and to sell a newspaper by pity. If that makes sense. It's almost as bad as the Australian current affairs show I saw which featured a "special guest invalid".

Meanwhile, in the rest of the world, rioters in Serbia have just set fire to the American Embassy, inflation in Zimbabwe has risen to over 100,580% and floods and landslides in Indonesia have killed eleven and displaced 3500. And a boy in Christchurch who happens to be partially blind has lost his bike.

perfection

I have just turned the television off. There was a documentary, called "Under the Knife", with Louis Theroux. Basically he spent a few weeks in Beverly Hills visiting a few plastic surgeons and following a few of their patients. For me, the worst part was the 50 year old male who looked like a sunburnt mannequin with moobs, or perhaps the woman who wanted her breasts to look just that little bit more symmetrical where they already looked like bulbous plastic balloons - actually the worst was a cute girl with a nice body who went under the knife quite radically and was so happy when her ex agreed that yes, she did look more beautiful and he'd quite like to get back with her. Each and every patient this reporter spoke with talked about the inner change their outer change brought, and how much happier and more confident they were.

Over the last year I'm sure I've put on weight. Not heaps, luckily. But since I broke my heel, I have been restricted from all normal exercise, and have been feeling just a bit worse than usual about it. I've been trying to cut out less healthy food while I can't do much exercise - but here's some advice: if you must have that sort of injury which restricts you from exercise, try not to do it just before Christmas. So basically Allie has been a little bit depressed about body image recently.

It feels strange then, that after seeing these "perfect" specimens of humanity onscreen, I suddenly feel like this weight has been lifted off my shoulders. These people, with all their imperfections observed, identified, marked on with a Sharpie, and treated - these people look abnormal, even bizarre, or at best unnatural. They have lost their natural contour, their identifying features. They are still unhappy with themselves; although they say they're not, they still think they just need a bit of a touch-up in future. Right now (I'm sure it won't last but I want to document this) I feel almost delirious with joy that I am a very, very normal person, that I have a lot of external imperfections, and that I am aware of the person inside me who is independent of what people see. And that I don't live in Beverly Hills.

ten of the mostest

Here is it; my random pick of ten of the mostest.

1) Most Inane Hymn Verse:

God holds the key of all unknown, and I am glad,
If other hands should hold the key,
Or if he trusted it to me,
I might be sad (I might be sad).
We sung this at church last night and really! What a pointless verse! What is it trying to say? Absolutely nothing! It seems to me that those elderly people who complain about modern church music lacking thoughtfulness have forgotten about the existence of hymns like this. Besides that, the rhyming is dreadful.

2) Most Beautiful Bride:

Grace Kelly wedding Prince Rainier of Monaco. I was flicking through a book about this couple today at the library, saw a couple of photos of their wedding, and decided that if I looked one sixteenth as good as Princess Grace looked on my wedding day, I would be ecstatic.

3) Most Ridiculous Place Name:

This is a New Zealand one (wait for it...):
Tetaumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateapokaiwhenuakitanatahu.
How's that for a tongue twister!
It means: "The hilltop where Tamatea, with big knees, conqueror of mountains, eater of land, traveller over land and sea, played his Koauau (Maori flute) to his beloved".

4) Most Liked Objects in my Bedroom (clockwise from top left):

- Palm tree coat hanger which my sister Viv gave me for Christmas. I have a very small room so I've never had space for my numerous bags (Allie's favourite accessories) except on the floor. Now, problem solved! I love it!
- Bookcase. There's nothing special about the actual bookcase, but it's tall and imposing, full to bursting of my favourite books, and has a pretty paper chain I made hanging down the side.
- My lantern, which my sister Rachel gave me for Christmas. This is made out of scrap metal and came with a collection of different coloured tealights to go inside.
- My U2 concert ticket from 2006, framed. :)
- A watercolour painting of Penang, from when I went to Malaysia last year. This time I went I decided I'd like to bring home something durable and attractive, instead of just pirated DVDs and fake label clothing. When I got home I framed it, and I love it!
- Posters. One is a photo of Edvard Grieg, my favourite composer - I found it at a second hand bookshop and intend to frame it eventually. The other is the front cover of my programme from a Jacques Loussier Trio concert, with their autographs.

5) Most Amazing Photo:

I did a course at university last year called "Resistance and Conformity in Nazi Germany". Our lecturer showed us this photo, a crowd of workers doing the Nazi salute. You may need to click on it to get a larger version, but there is one man in the crowd (circled) standing with his arms folded. For all we know he may just have been scratching his elbow or something, but it looks very much as if he was making a stand. Brave, brave person. I keep this photo stuck up on my wardrobe door because if there's one thing I learnt in this course, it would be very, very easy and likely for me to be everyone else in the photo, and I would much rather be that man.

6) Most Disliked Habits of Other People:

Pressing books on me to borrow that I don't want to read. Anecdote competitions, where someone has to one-up every other person on interesting anecdotes. When driving, indicating for corners far too early (- Dad). Eating too fast or too noisily. And so on. All of which I occasionally succumb to.

7) Most Enjoyed Recent Purchase:

As I have mentioned before, my friend Jane Doe is getting married this Saturday, and it has been decided that the bridesmaids will wear silver jewellery - of which I lack anything nice. So today I went shopping at a proper jeweller's instead of my usual cheapo not-quite-so-good-quality shops. The result was this necklace; only a silver chain and silver cross, but so nice, and I loved the atmosphere of the shop with the realness and expensiveness all around me. Mmm... I think I've been hooked...

8) Most Successfully Eccentric Song:

Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. I lurve this song.

9) Most Magical Place in New Zealand:

Mount Cook National Park. There's something about staring at the mountain over the crystal blue waters of Lake Pukaki. And then driving round the lake to the mountains; everything's so BIG, bewitching.

However, stiff competition is put up by the place pictured below, Bealey Valley (in Arthur's Pass National Park). Evenings like this one, in 2006, are not easily forgotten.

10) Most Wasteful Use of My Time:

Playing with photo software on my computer. This is supposed to be a charcoal version of me and Jane Doe. It's fun but really quite pointless.

This isn't precisely a meme as I made it up entirely by myself, but I tag anyone who wants to create their own random list of the mostest!

Next up: How To Speak Like Me (requested by Sarakastic and Jenkneebee).

the Christmas spirit

Some photos from Phi Phi Island in Thailand: My brother and family on the long tail boat at the Phi Phi Islands
A long tail boat from outside
Around the coast of Phi Phi Ley, a smaller island, and near where we snorkelled. The island itself was just beautiful - it felt like we were in a mini-fjord at times, with those big rocky walls, except the water wasn't very deep.
The beach outside the place we stayed on Koh Phi Phi. The restaurant was right by the beach, and the swimming was amazing - right by our doorstep.
The sunset on, funnily enough, the night I broke my heel.

Guess what? I'm going home next week. The insurance company just rang to check flight details with me. Leaving here on the 12th, arriving on the 13th. I will have been away from Christchurch for exactly five months. I'm so excited! Anyway - onto the main blog business:

It is December, which means I'm feeling Christmassy - of course. I know it's possible to get a bit silly about Christmas, but I love it too much to be sensible. I can't wait to start wrapping up presents and decorating and cooking etc - almost all of which will be, of course, very difficult on my gammy leg but I'm sure to try! This morning I spent a long time on iTunes going through carols and buying a selection for my listening pleasure - carols are almost my favourite thing about Christmas. I bought:

- Good King Wenceslas

- Joy to the World

- God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen

- Es ist ein' Ros' entsprungen

- Ding Dong Merrily on High

- For unto us a son is born (from Messiah)

- The Coventry Carol

- O Come, O Come Emmanuel

- Stille Nacht

- What Child Is This?

- Fairytale of New York (okay, so a little different to the others, but this is almost the only modern Christmas song I actually like)

- Away in a Manger (with the alternate, less common tune, and sung by Ella Fitzgerald)

Favourite carols, anyone? Any recommendations?

Also, all this dwelling on Christmas made me remember an email my sister sent me last Christmas which I have probably shared on here before - but it always cracks me up, so here it is:

"It is that time of year and we better get ingredients this weekend and start baking our Christmas cakes, if you have not done so already. Thought I would pass on this wonderful recipe to all of you. Read it, you will be inspired to get baking!

CHRISTMAS CAKE

Ingredients:

1 cup of water

1 tsp baking soda

1 cup of sugar

1 tsp salt

1 cup of brown sugar

lemon juice

4 large eggs

nuts

1 bottle Vodka

2 cups of dried fruit

Instructions:

Sample the vodka to check quality. To be sure it is of the highest quality, pour one level cup and drink.

Take a large bowl, check the vodka again.

Turn on the electric mixer.

Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl.

Add one teaspoon of sugar.

Beat again.

At this point it\'s best to make sure the vodka is shtill OK.

Try another cup .... just in case.

Turn off the mixerer.

Break 2 leggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.

Pick fruit off floor.

Mix on the turner.

If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers pry it loose with a drewscriver.

Sample the vodka to check for tonsisticity.

Next, sift two cups of salt. Or something. Who giveshz a ***.

Check the vodka.

Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.

Add one table.

Add a spoon of sugar, or somefink. Whatever you can find.

Greash the oven.

Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over.

Don't forget to beat off the turner.

Finally, throw the bowl through the window, finish the vodka and kick the cat.

CHERRY MISTMAS"

bizarrity

For the last few weeks I have been going through books on Soviet Russian history, motivated by a slight panic that next year isn't that far away and I need to find useful books for History Honours. My motivation has slowly turned into real interest as I read anecdotes and information that are almost too bizarre to be believed. I'd like to share some with you - but before I do, here's as small a summary as I can write for the uninitiated:

From the mid-twenties to the early-fifties, Stalin was the dictator who ravaged Russia and surrounding nations. The thirties in particular were drenched with blood and one of the major things that happened in them is referred to as the Purges, in which Stalin systematically exterminated and exiled anyone who could possibly have anything against him and even those who obviously didn't, using the NKVD, the Russian police force who later became the KGB. They were given labels such as Trotskyist (Trotsky was another Communist leader who had opposed Stalin and eventually fled the country) or saboteur etc. Prisoners would be forced to confess to ridiculous crimes, and then to denounce others.

Here's some of the stranger stories that come out of this period.

- A 65-year-old woman from a collective farm near Moscow who met Evgeniya Ginzburg was somehow denounced as a trotskistka (Trotskyist), a term she was so far from understanding that she confused it with traktoristka (tractor driver), and said to cellmates in prison, “I don't understand, they don’t put old women like me on tractors.” Having received a ten-year sentence for Trotskyist terrorism, she asked Ginzburg, “Are you one of those traktoritski too, dearie?”

- A war game in the army had a marshal simulating attacking Russia from the west. "General Lukirsky concluded that the Red Army would have to retreat to the east, but they would stabilize their line just outside Moscow. He was arrested and shot for “letting the enemy get to the gates of Moscow”.

- Both arrests and charges operated according to a quota system. A cellmate of Evgeniya Ginzburg: “as a Tartar it was simpler to put down ‘bourgeois nationalist’. Actually they had me down as a Trotskyite first, but they sent the file back saying they had exceeded the quota for Trotskyites but were short on nationalists.”

- Made-up confessions were encouraged to be dramatic. "A workman from Kiev gave a detailed account of attempts to blow up a bridge a kilometer long with several kilos of arsenic. Another explained his activities in an organisation aiming at the construction of a number of artificial volcanoes in order to explode the entire Soviet Union. Another prisoner admitted that he had informed the Polish consul of the weather as shown in a forecast put up regularly in a public park."

- The Arctic explorer Papanin was trapped on an ice floe in the Arctic circle for weeks with three associates, one of which was a NKVD man, and a dog. His diary was later published, but censored. In the uncensored version, he writes that the explorers and the dog celebrated Stalin’s birthday and the other Communist festivals by holding demonstrations on the ice, marching up and down with banners, since none of the quartet would dare suggest that the activity was preposterous.

- From Solzhenitsyn’s Gulag Archipelago: At the conclusion of a conference in Moscow, a tribute to Comrade Stalin was called for. Of course, everyone leapt to his feet, and the small hall echoed with stormy applause… for three, then four, then five minutes. The NKVD was standing in the hall watching to see who quit first! After eleven minutes of applause, the director of the local paper factory sat down – and everyone else stopped with a sigh of relief. That same night the factory director was arrested and given ten years.

- 'The NKVD built a case against a young man who was the champion stamp collector in the north Caucasion town of Kholodnogorsk, on the grounds that his collection contained a German stamp with Hitler on it as well as an English one with Queen Victoria that was worth more than its Soviet one with Lenin. The young man was forced to confess that he “led a counterrevolutionary organization masked as a stamp collector society”. '

- Prisoners in independent parts of the country independently devised large-scale denouncing, reasoning that this would drive the system to such grotesque extremes that society would collapse unless it was halted. One imprisoned doctor from Kharkov pleaded guilty at once and listed on paper the several hundred doctors of Kharkov, all of whom he knew by name, as enemies whom he had recruited. His interrogator balked at arresting all Kharkov’s doctors, and so the prisoner reported him for shielding members of a counterrevolutionary organisation.

- One cabdriver’s interrogator wanted him to confess to his crimes without being told what they were. Eventually, after a long night of interrogation, he finally confessed, and was hit in the face for crimes he did not even know he had confessed to.

- There was a lack of hay or fodder for livestock – so Soviet agronomists created a new form of silage called ‘twig fodder’, officially proving that small branches of pine and fir trees were rich in calories and vitamins, assuming that horses and cattle would eat them. Anyone who disagreed was sent to a concentration camp. The result: starving and dying horses, and officials too scared to report what was actually happening.

Though the entire history of this time in Russia is tragic, there are other stories which I will not repeat that are absolutely heartrending. You may remember that sometimes I have written posts about becoming a tyrannical dictator and sending people to the gulag - well, I want to announce that further study of history has totally killed that joke for me and I will no longer be mentioning it.

If you are interested in reading the most well-written and amazing memoirs on this subject, look up Evgeniya Ginzburg's two books Journey Into The Whirlwind and Within the Whirlwind. Gripping and bizarre yet moving reading.

[These stories were taken from Stalin and the Shaping of the Soviet Union, by Alex de Jonge; chapter four Soviet Politics 1917-1991, by Mary McAuley; and chapter seventeen Stalin in Power, by Robert C. Tucker.]

lost in Austen

I have just made my very first purchase from Amazon (bear in mind that I do not live in the States and in so doing regulate your astonishment), which arrived today, O excitement of excitements! I saw this book talked about on the fantastic Austen fansite Tilneys and Trapdoors, and immediately knew I had to have it, whatever the cost (within reason, I suppose). To my delight, even with postage this was very reasonably priced, and I got stuck into it as soon as it arrived.

Lost in Austen: Create your own Jane Austen Adventure, by Emma Campbell Webster. This is a lot like those great Create Your Own Adventure books that I used to read at age ten, but obviously written for psycho, immature Austen fans such as myself. You can follow through with the major Pride and Prejudice storyline, or pick little offshoots which may introduce Elizabeth Bennet to Mr Knightley of Emma or other Austen characters, or which introduce an alternate ending to P&P. On the way, you collect points for Intelligence, Confidence and Fortune, and also Connections (both Superior and Inferior), Accomplishments and Failings. Depending on how many you get, this may affect your ability in the end to make a happy and successful marriage.

Emma Campbell Webster does a great job at paraphrasing Austen in second person, and it is written and developed with tongue firmly in cheek, not trying too hard to sound nineteenth century all the time (as this is obviously written for a twenty-first century audience) but also maintaining the feel of the narrative and of Jane Austen's spirit. There are no ghastly mistakes that make me grit my teeth and wonder if she's read the original more than twice. Some of the alternate endings are hilarious, although I haven't read them all yet, with the result that you don't actually mind dying alone in abject poverty because it's really funny. She has also managed to get Jasper Fforde to endorse the book, which I think is fantastic, as he has done some really creative and amusing fiddling with Austen and literature in general.

This book is so much fun. I highly recommend it. This will be on my list of official government-sanctioned books when I am a tyrannical dictator.

advertisements

Perhaps I just need to get out more. Every time I've watched TV over the last week or so, I've been mentally summing up the message of each advert in one sentence, an exercise that may sound a bit lame but made me laugh, for one.

My sister started me off with this one: "If you use Solagard solar heating, cute little frogs will come and live in your bathroom."

Schick Quattro razors for men: "Whenever you use this razor, women will fall off treadmills."

My favourite so far was advertised on the rural Australian channel while I was in the countryside, for Statewide Steel. Basically, "at Statewide Steel, we employ hot girls wearing next to nothing, because steel is sexy and manly".

V50 shampoo: "Bad hair is just as much a medical emergency as a coma or heart attack."

Lamb: "If you can only find a partner who loves eating lamb as much as you do, you will live happily ever after."

Sleepyhead beds: "If you wake up in the morning looking fresh, well-rested and fabulous, immediately go and purchase a new Sleepyhead bed."

Particularly sentimental ads in New Zealand tend to come from insurance companies, such as State: "Buying insurance at State means you will have a very long, fulfilled and balanced life."
or AMI: "At AMI, we are responsible for every smile that passes from one person to another in New Zealand."

Special K breakfast cereal: "If you are one of those annoying freaks who must needs take part in every health food fad, we are the cereal for you."
or...
"If you eat Special K [and exercise and diet and have lipo] you could lose 1kg every week! Miraculous!"

Telecom Broadband: "If you don't get your children highspeed broadband internet with Telecom, you are failing them in their educational needs, and they will never get to university."

Well, I'm sure you've got the picture after that and have seen basically the same ads for many different products, many different times. What else do the ads on your television channels tell you?

living the good life

Yesterday my sister, Ruby and I drove down south a couple of hours to Bunbury, a town that apparently doesn't really have any special about it but which I am disposed to like because it has the same name as the fictitious invalid in The Importance of Being Earnest. We are staying at the Sanctuary Golf Resort at which my sister is taking a refresher course in some aspect of paediatric medicine and I am doing the babysitting during the day. It's SO much nicer than a backpackers with squeaky bunk beds - instead, I have my own room and my own bathroom - phwoar! There's a pool and a spa (as in, Jacuzzi) and a golf course. I could get used to this.

And recently in Australian news (and world news so it’s quite likely you’ve already heard this): in Sydney at the moment the APEC conference has just finished. Security has been very, very high, as there are 25 world leaders there such as the Chinese President and Vladimir Putin and none other than George W. Bush. (And New Zealand’s Helen Clark, who is, naturally, just as much a security priority as any of those. Perhaps.) There happens to be this show called The Chaser on Australian TV which I have become thoroughly addicted to since I got here. The show is presented by five comedians who target other TV shows or politicians or just ordinary people, and is – not to exaggerate at all – the most hilarious show on television. Last week on the show they spent some time trying to get past APEC security, but on the news this week we found out what was planned for Wednesday’s episode. On Thursday, the boys from The Chaser got themselves a motorcade, put some Canadian and American flags on the limousine (note that Canada is not even an APEC country), got past about three or four security checkpoints, and finally managed to get somewhere near George Bush, when one jumped out of the car dressed as Osama bin Laden.

It was inevitable that they get arrested, all five comedians and six other people in their crew. But it really makes the whole APEC thing a lot more fun, don’t you think? And of course the television shows which have been targeted in the past by The Chaser are having a field day, with great headlines such as "This time The Chaser goes TOO FAR!!!" in deathly serious voices. Personally, I think that perhaps instead of blaming The Chaser for being irresponsible, they should instead look at how somehow some pranksters managed to get through that many checkpoints that were touted as being so high in security without being stopped.

beware - SPOILERS!!!

I have successfully penetrated the security surrounding the release of Harry Potter #7 tomorrow, and it is with sadistic pleasure that I announce I know what happens! And I will reveal it to the world! [wicked laugh]

This is it - the ending of Harry Potter #7 (brace yourselves) -

Voldemort realises the error of his ways and repents. He opens a school for difficult children and compensates all his victims, or their families, in a billion-Galleon settlement. He and Harry join hands on the front cover of the Daily Prophet, and make a joint statement that violence never pays. For the rest of his life he will atone for his sins, volunteering in pet rescue homes, appearing alongside Bob Geldof and Angelina Jolie as a hero of the oppressed, and write his own self-help book.

world domination

The World Domination Meme, thanks to Stacy:

You are offered one superhero power to help you take over the world (or the country of your choice). What would your superpower be and why?

My superpower would be the power to appear to each person as their greatest ideal, eg to be a sort of reverse Boggart. This would make everyone vote for me and think that I was democratically elected rather than a tyrannical dictator, and if I was careful, it would prohibit all forms of resistance.

Where will you establish your capital and why?

Unfortunately, I believe local domination is too small an aim; world domination alone can satisfy. Therefore, Christchurch is just too small and far away from everywhere to be the capital of my global empire as it is. All the same, I don't want to have it anywhere else because that would be an insult to the glory that is Christchurch. Therefore, I will have the South Island of New Zealand dug up, and towed to a more convenient location.

What would be your first official decree as a brand new dictator? Why?

I would announce a ban on rogaine, because it is a fallacy of a sport and a crime.

As a Great and Fearsome Leader, you will need to have the best people working for you. Who would work for you? (Feel free to use famous people, fictional characters, friends and family, or other people from the blogosphere in your answer.) What would their jobs be?

My Deputy will be Stacy, because she is obviously adept in handling minions and dominating the world. She will also understand that I am ruthless, can read minds, and that the moment she starts considering usurping me, being sent to the gulag will be the least of her worries.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh from Pride and Prejudice will be my Chief of Police because she is a seriously scary and ruthless old woman.

My entire family will be given high-paying jobs in government departments which involve hardly any work, because what is the use of dominating the world if you can't be a nepotist?

My niece Ruby will be my PR person because she is so cute that everyone will take one look at her and forget about the thousands toiling in the gulag that they had come to complain about.

Henry Tilney from Northanger Abbey will be the chaplain, because he's the coolest clergyman that has yet been seen in a novel.

Peter Jackson will be in charge of Propaganda. Bono and the Edge will set pro-Allie rhymes to music. Rachmaninov, Grieg and Mendelssohn will collaborate on pro-Allie symphonies and operas.

If you could make one annoying habit illegal in your empire, what would it be?

Wearing those condom-like hats that rappers wear in music videos.

emancipation

The other night, in the ad breaks of another programme, I started watching a debate on Maori TV. It was in the Maori language, which I don't understand except for sporadic words, but it had subtitles, and I ended up jotting down some quotes because it was so what you would not see (or get away with) on any other TV channel!

The topic for debate was: A tribe's survival depends on a woman with balls.

Starting right there, I knew I was in for something special. And as the leader of the affirmative team (is that what you call it? I can't rememeber) said, confirming all my hopes: "I believe for a woman to be strong she must have balls. I can prove women have balls."

The other team, on the other hand, had a few gems up their sleeves:
"Women are the hair on men's legs."
"I know of matriarchs with balls, and they're crafty, crafty."
"If women stood on my marae*, my balls would drop."
"Women, there is a place for you, in the kitchen, looking after the tamariki."**
"A woman is a queen, a man is a god."
"Without balls, we wouldn't be here."

And my personal favourite insult directed towards the affirmative team - "You're all drunkards."

Persuasive, right?!

* A marae is a Maori meeting house. Certain tribes have quite strict etiquette restricting women from specific roles in a marae or in ceremonies.
** No points for guessing what tamariki means.

The other night, in the ad breaks of another programme, I started watching a debate on Maori TV. It was in the Maori language, which I don't understand except for sporadic words, but it had subtitles, and I ended up jotting down some quotes because it was so what you would not see (or get away with) on any other TV channel!

The topic for debate was: A tribe's survival depends on a woman with balls.

Starting right there, I knew I was in for something special. And as the leader of the affirmative team (is that what you call it? I can't rememeber) said, confirming all my hopes: "I believe for a woman to be strong she must have balls. I can prove women have balls."

The other team, on the other hand, had a few gems up their sleeves:

"Women are the hair on men's legs."

"I know of matriarchs with balls, and they're crafty, crafty."

"If women stood on my marae*, my balls would drop."

"Women, there is a place for you, in the kitchen, looking after the tamariki." No points for guessing what tamariki means.

"A woman is a queen, a man is a god."

"Without balls, we wouldn't be here."

And my personal favourite insult directed towards the affirmative team - "You're all drunkards."

Persuasive, right?!