Wednesday, January 24, 2024

 


Drowning in Blue



Ever had one of those moments when you flip down the sunvisor and a huntsman drops into your lap? Guess who I bumped into today? Charlie Cravino.”

You’re kidding me” says Marg, “must be out of clink.”

That’s what I said to him”.

Course you would Gus...”

He said to me ‘I’ve done me time, paid me debt to Society. Straight from now on.’ Yeah, straight as a judge I thought. Remember when he tried to involve me in that pyramid scheme? All that Yankee razzmatazz, balloons and ‘Everything Is Beautiful’ loud over the speakers. Everyone singing it. I walked out.”

Course you did.”

Never saw him after that, until today, what 40 years later? Heard he got done for fraud. Anyway he’s talking about investing in AI.”

Kidding.”

Nah, straight up. Reckons we can make heaps.”

We..? Gus… Gus!”

Gus quickly made his way out the back door. “Gotta check the chooks Marg.”

Here girls. Chooky chooky chook.” He topped up the water, filled the feed and scattered some greens. Then checked the egg laying area again. Mmm, not laying much lately. A worry. Something’s amiss. I’m thinking that maybe your chook is like the budgie in the mines. This happened once before, when the bushfires came. They stopped laying...

I just love being out here, communing with these birds, it’s a special place, something about the smell of chooks and poo under the bluest of skies. We're drowning in blue, me and my girls. It’s comforting. Marg knows she’s not to disturb me. Uh Oh. I expected it. She’s getting slow.

Gus, did you read about those hundreds of scientists who said that AI could be an existential threat? And you want to invest in it?”

Just business Marg. We’re on the ground floor of something great. The world will be a different place very soon, a decade or so. The cat’s out of the cradle. We can make oodles if we jump on this thing before the horse bolts.”

Our existence Gus. And what about our kids and grandkids, how will they cope?”

Marg, all will be good for humanity. You know that they can beat us at chess? And take the Rooskies and Ukrainians, it’ll be AI vs AI. Robots vs robots, with AI weapons. No human was hurt in the making of this. I was just thinking that maybe chooks are a primitive form of AI. I mean, they’re quite happy to peck and scratch but still provide us with eggs. Simple but effective. Whoever invented the chook deserves a medal.”

Gus, get real. You say they can beat us at chess. You think they’ll be happy to stop there? No way, if they have the imagination to do that, they’ll be taking over. They can be programmed to have a competitive nature, to solve problems. Not just machines vs machines. They have intelligence. They will develop personalities and egos, whatever it takes to get on top. Worse, they might become autonomous, one of the points the scientists make. And there will be no way to tell the difference between a robot and a human. Those scientists, people with scientific knowledge, years of training, they fear the worst.”

Marg, Marg, you take it to extremes. Those people deal in possibilities and probabilities. They work at a desk with a graph. The world is greater than that. Look. Maybe they’ll invent a dumbed down AI so we’re not threatened.”

Like the chooks Gus?”

Marg, humanity is millions of years old. We’ve got this far. Q.E.D. What’s your problem?

Gus, the problem is that we’re going to be the chooks. Peck, scratch and plop. Pretty much what you do now, come to think of it...”

Marg, you know I love it when you get sarky.”















Thursday, November 23, 2023

Lucia Joyce was the daughter of Nora Barnacle and James Joyce. Her story is fascinating and tragic. I wrote this bit of a poem after reading a fictionalised biography, The Joyce Girl by Annabel Abbs and checking more details in Richard Ellmann's James Joyce and online. Some explanatory notes follow the poem.




Lucia


Lucia Joyce the die was cast

A jealous mother a doting Babbo

Mia bella bambina.


In dance she could fly, pirouette

and forget her squinting eye, forget

her love’s unrequited passions


lost like dear Samuel Beckett, her one

true love, never mind the others

she was besotted with Sam


but Sam was besotted with Jim

the genius of James Joyce

it bound him like the song of sirens


those sounds calling down the wine

dark seas to lure and entice

to tempt and truss a tender soul.


Jim loved to watch his child at dance

‘Father dear’ she called him fondly

so innocent and pretty she was


so gifted with a genius for dance

and choreography, ‘transfigured’

according to Jim as he was


transfixed but he perceived envy

and jealousy in Nora his wife

and Lucia understood that as


she recognised her Babbo to

be fixated by Nora’s raw ripe

rose with kisses intoxicated,


her hull appeased of barnacle

abandonment in Abaddon

what had it all meant? So long ago.


I have been confined to the

nuthouse these thirty five years.

Not long to go. I have The Sight.


Visits from Babbo were many.

Dead now he amuses the

Congregation of Immortals with


his chat his rambles of the tongue

if ever they understand him

We held our own language you see


not a fellow could follow ha ha.

He visited one time with Georgio

‘Che bello’ I screamed, my brother


departed in haste. I had told

him that his secret was safe, yet

he and mia madre prosecuted


my permanent interment, silenced

in this loony bin. Babbo fought it, his

own sanity sanctorum dolorum.


He died my Babbo. His words

his salve to my condition muted.

How I miss him. Not long now. No.


Some notes:

Italian was Lucia's first language thus 'Babbo' - Dad, 'mia bella bambina' - 'my beautiful child' 'Che bello' - 'How beautiful'.

She also spoke French and German and her English had a 'guttural European' accent, 'not the Irish lilt.'  Her photos are plentiful but show a serious face apart from one or two. Yet she was described as having a humorous side with a great wit, her father's daughter.

She was a very talented dancer. The Paris Times reviewing a performance stated "Lucia Joyce is her father’s daughter. She has James Joyce’s enthusiasm, energy, and a not-yet-determined amount of his genius. When she reaches her full capacity for rhythmic dancing, James Joyce may yet be known as his daughter’s father." 

Lucia had her father's blue eyes but with a slight cast/squint. She had operations to remove it, to no avail. This may well have had a psychological effect, in fact she was psychoanalysed by Carl Jung for her depression, prior to admission to a series of mental asylums where she remained until her death in 1983. His notes were later destroyed. Why indeed? 

Sadly her letters to and from her family were all burned by her nephew, brother Georgio's son, Stephen Joyce.  Some incriminating words? Also her letters from Samuel Beckett. 

Nora Barnacle’s ‘blue’ love letters to Jim, (to keep him from the Dublin brothels - theory) were also destroyed. Jim’s erotic letters to Nora are available online and are quite explicit, ‘steamy’ is a euphemism. A recent article proposes that his later medical problems were caused by syphilis, a reminder to him of his ‘iniquities’.

Samuel Beckett donated proceeds from one of his publications in support of Lucia's

hospitalisation.

He visited her once at St Andrew's Northumberland and maintained written communication with her until her death in 1982 on the eve of St Lucia's Day. 

A picture of Lucia in her mermaid's costume which she designed and made for an international dance competition, was found in his personal possessions after he died.

There has been suggestion of incest in the Joyce family (contested by some scholars), possibly between Georgio and the younger Lucia, which may be why her letters were destroyed by Georgio's son. 

There is a YouTube of James Joyce reading a section from Finnegan's Wake in a thick Irish accent. It is a wonderful insight to his rhythmic language. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8kFqiv8Vww


The biographer of Nora, Brenda Maddox and the biographer of Lucia, Carol Shloss battle it out in the press   

https://arlindo-correia.com/lucia_joyce.html














Monday, July 25, 2022

 


This is the second article on our recent Bali trip which I wrote for the U3A Photography Group newsletter in June 2022.

Bali Photography, Menjangan snorkelling, a poem excerpt and some pics plus links.

To recap on camera gear for the trip to Bali, I decided to travel light and took my Fuji XT30 with the XF18-55 and XC55-230 lenses, both providing excellent images. Also my Oppo phone has taken many a fine shot. For the snorkelling trip our daughter Cara lent me her Olympus ToughTG6 which proved to be very effective.



The interior of Bali is quite mountainous and with persistent rain it slows up a journey. So we had to stop for lunch at a fine sheltered restaurant somewhere on the side of a mountain - delicious barbecued whole fish for each of us with accompanying spicy aromatic side dishes; a welcome break. The cost was AUD40 all up (3 fish, rice, side dishes and two beers, two coffees).



Our daughter had organised a snorkelling trip and resort accommodation on the NW Bali Coast, close to Java. All went well until we arrived at the resort. The booking couldn't be found. What?? And the place was chokkers, Ocker with o/s tourists. But... 'perhaps the spare accommodation might be available?' suggested The Manager to his minions. And thankfully it was and it turned out to be an upgrade, three houses plus swimming pool and gazebo inside a walled garden. 'Stick with me...' Cara said.

The resort had its own beach, and offshore was what looked like a hut on a raft. The area in front and around the raft is adorned with underwater sculptures, temples, Buddhas, bicycles etc. as part of a successful coral reef regeneration project. It's ideal for snorkelling over, so Cara informed us. Great, we'll do that in a couple of days. Bad decision. Once a year a large swell stirs the sand...


The boat trip to Menjangan Island and its reefs from Pemuteran took about 45 minutes, The west coast of Java with its primitive, mysterious volcanos loomed closer. We were fortunate, the coral had rejuvenated because tourism had dropped off since Covid asserted itself.


The Olympus TG6 is a 'tough' camera, well suited to rugged use, inclement weather and underwater shots. There are a number of settings which provide photographic control. The daughter said to use the fish symbol, which I did. As a wise person once noted, the 'P' in PASM stands for Professional. This is my 12 year old grand daughter Eloise in yoga lotus position alongside the cliff face drop to the depths.




                                                 Snorkelling on the reef of Menjangan Island,

40 minutes off shore. Java is close

with its primitive mysterious mist

shrouded volcanos. Fish and reef, the absolute

splendour of this other universe.


The variety of shape and colour,

the shift of motion. You are astounded

as you float with the current over reef

gardens then out over the shelf with its

vertical cliff and cold flow from below.

You drift into a shoal of electric

blue sparks and suddenly they are spooked

into a comet trail. You wish you could

speak fish and understand the murmurings

and coughing of coral.


Our guide dives down and assumes a yoga

position then blows a perfect circle

of bubbles which rises, widening.




On the return journey we visit Penestanan outside Ubud, an artistic area where our son in law has built an eco village. All houses are now sold both here and in the second eco village at Sibang, but anyone interested in seeing what has been achieved can click here:

https://www.desaalamindah.com/

Covid has hit tourism heavily in Bali which is now gradually returning to some semblance of normal. Artistic Penestanan villagers used their time well in this quiet period by carving the rock face in a ravine behind the village. The amazing thing is that the atmosphere has created moss covered sculptures which now look as though they've been there for hundreds of years.



Daughter Cara was interviewed for an online Bali magazine. It's interesting for her family's experience and insights. There are photos here too.


https://ouryearinbali.com/australian-family-building-an-inspiring-eco-village-in-ubud/









Thursday, July 21, 2022

Bali, Photography and Equipment

 

This is an article written for the Canberra U3A Photography Group newsletter in June 2022.

I've published it here to add an appropriate number of photos. 



                                            Bali, Photography and Equipment

In early May we visited our family in Bali, our daughter Cara, her husband Greg and our two gorgeous grand daughters Safia and Eloise. Greg has built/managed two eco villages and is now in the process of building individual houses. This was our fifth visit, Cara and Greg have resided in Ubud, an artistic town in the higher midlands close to Greg's work and now his work has taken them to the coast in Canggu, about 1.5 hours from Denpassar Airport.

The holiday was varied and rich in experience, locals and airport staff welcomed us back with typically friendly smiling faces. It was lovely to be there and experiencing again the soul of a place we have loved for many years. Overseas trips are great for photographic pursuits in fact I travel for that, and our cultural/ epicurean adventures. So, what equipment to take?

I decided to travel light, while recognising that landscape, portrait, sports and macro needed to be covered. I have previously taken Canon, but I find that my D80 and lenses are too bulky now.

I mulled over taking the Olympus EM5 mk 2 with the excellent 12-40 pro and the very capable 75-300, plus the mighty Oly 60mm macro, or the Fuji XT30.

This time I chose the Fuji which I bought in December 2020. The XT30 uses the same 26mp sensor as the more expensive XT3 and XT4 and is far more wallet friendly, as is the XC50-230 mk11 zoom (75-345 equiv.) with OIS which provides 3.5 stops and can produce good macro images. I also took the XF18-55 OIS for general purpose shots, and the Oppo phone which has a pretty good camera. Our daughter Cara had booked a boat to take us 40 minutes off the North West coast to Menjangan Island, adjacent to the mysterious imposing volcanos of Java, to snorkle the reefs. Did she have an underwater camera? Yes the renowned Olympus TG6, and I could borrow it. Perfect!

First morning an early Bali coffee at Echo Beach with the daughter to view surfboard riders.






Bali attracts many skilled surfers from around the world and locals are also getting into this sport.

I noticed at least six photographers, many with serious looking equipment, tripods and big bazooka lenses but I thought that a combination of OIS and a fast speed should suffice, it was a sunny day.

The surf was running at about 2-3 metres breaking around 150/200 metres off shore. So, my XC50-230 zoom should do it. I've been encouraged by bird shots, the SOOC 'straight out of the camera' JPEGS large/fine have been very good. So, snap a couple, magnify them in the LCD, looking good. I set the speed at 1000, and let the camera determine ISO and the aperture. Checking the data later, the aperture varied between 6.4 and 6.7, and the ISO between 160 and 320, but around 200 for most. My focal length was between 120 and the max 230 (350 equivalent), most were close to the maximum due to the distance.


I prefer to take single shots using a small focus point. The Fuji has three convenient dials on top, retro style, one of which provides rapid burst continuous at two speeds as well as various other functions including video, the other dials are shutter speed and exposure compensation. I remember meeting an American couple in the ANBG and he'd spied a Tawny Frogmouth sitting stationary in a tree hole up above. He blasted it with machine gun fire from his camera, quite loud, and he was obviously proud of it. I drily commented 'well, there'd have to be a good one somewhere in that lot...' We left on amiable terms, my irony flew up in the tree and the Frogmouth had a chuckle.




Continuous shooting can be advantageous, particularly in sports' photography but I didn't use it with the surfing. However I did come away with almost all successful images, so it was an excellent result. On a previous trip I'd used my Olympus with the 75-300 (150-600mm equivalent) and also had many successful images but the Fuji was better – I'd had to denoise a couple of the RAW Oly images, not so the Fuji JPEGs. Also, Fuji's 26MP allows you to drill in and maintain excellent definition, as can be seen above. There's no imperative to use RAW files for standard goals, although the camera provides both. I did tweak images slightly in post processing. I use ON1, check the effect separately of each of the two 'auto' buttons and adjust if needed, back to manual adjustment perhaps, plus add a bit of 'structure' and 'haze' which are ON1's equivalent of Adobe's 'Clarity and 'Vibrance'.


This is the first of a two part article. Next month we check out the colourful reefs and fish at Menjangan Island, the trip over the mountains, the Covid project of the Penestanan villagers,

and son-in-law Greg's village creations.








Saturday, April 02, 2022

Curse of the Ukrainian Woman


This is the Ukrainian National Choir. They start singing just prior to the 25th minute. These people are us,

they are you. It is heartbreaking.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lAUhxD4eQLs




Curse of the Ukrainian Woman


I shall rain curses on all of Russia

mothers, fathers, sons and daughters

on babies forming in womb and crib

on its lands, its skies, its crops and rivers

never to be raised until the debt

to Ukraine is paid, in full.


I shriek and I shriek the sacred

maledictions to the impassive eye.

I will wake You. I will wake You.

You shall listen.


My people are no less than Russians.

Would you inflict these horrors upon yourselves?

Your humanity dangles in this web

of affliction, silver with bloody dew

it drips and sinks into our sweet land.


Our song will swell in tides of blood

our harmonies will surge and flow

alive, alive - one mute can hum melody,

and the song shall survive.


Putin, damn him, is the neighbourhood

bully. He slits your lover's throat

and now jackboots this dying body.

Have you forgotten the Nazi assault

just yesterday? The tragic slaughter?

You do the same to us.

In Mariupol a wife reaches for her man.

In Kiev a mother searches for her child.


Putin, you putrid black Deceiver

this is no religious war

there is no such speck in the eye

of Eternity. Where is compassion

empathy, love and forgiveness?


There shall be no forgiveness for you.

You shall die by your own hand

the relentless whispers of the dead

in your head, following you.


God hides not in buildings

nor in missile warheads

delivering hate, fear, death

and destruction and the billowing

black smoke of dismay.


I shriek and I shriek the sacred

maledictions to the impassive eye

I will wake You. I will wake You.

You shall listen.



On Putin's religious affiliation/affliction check Tim Costello's article in The Guardian. Quite fascinating.

Link below.


https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2022/mar/06/vladimir-putin-a-miracle-defender-of-christianity-or-the-most-evil-man


Saturday, July 17, 2021

 


Asylum Island Video

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oQ0LmxSh1I8


Our country Australia was a welcoming country when our family arrived

decades ago. Aussies were happy to greet you and have you belong.

These poor boat people sought to escape inhumane political regimes in their own country

yet have been greeted by similar treatment here ie. inhumane. Many are now certified refugees

yet have been placed in detention, some in excess of 7 years, and for what?

Seeking solace. Seeking humanity's embrace. And love.

You wouldn't treat a rabid dog like this.

They have become political footballs.

Is this who we are?


The song, based upon an old Irish rebel song which my cousin Chris McGloin and I performed

many years back, I rewrote about seven years ago. Sadly it remains true today.

Many thanks to Oblique Productions, The Big O for a magnificent job.


Pacific Solution Revisited - Asylum Island

To the tune of the Irish rebel song,  “Join The British Army” (Trad. ArrBarry McGloin)

AM

Well I was young and proud and free

G

They took my home and family

AM

And now you see a refugee

C G AM

Searching for asylum


Too ra loo ra loo ra loo

They’re looking for monkeys up in the zoo

Said one if I had a face like you

I’d stick you on an island


Australians all let us rejoice

We have a hope we have a choice

We have a vote we have a voice

Not searching for asylum

 

Too ra loo ra loo ra lee

We'll process youse eventually

We'll stamp your bum and test your pee

While checking on your history…


Ah don’t complain this ain’t the Ritz

It’s Alcatraz not St Moritz

If you can swim out to the ships

The sharks can be relied on

 

Too ra loo ra loo ra lie

A pat on the back and a poke in the eye

They're looking for monkeys in disguise

Out upon the island


The privileged and the disposed

One is cursed and one is blessed

Which one are you, I bet you've guessed

Out upon the island


Too ra loo ra loo ra loo

Not Sanctuary Point, nor Woolloomooloo

They’re looking for monkeys up in the zoo

To stick upon an island


The privileged and the disposed

One is cursed and one is blessed

You have fuck all, well now it’s less

Out upon the island


Too ra loo ra loo ra loo

This government will do for you

They'll scrub your face and change you to

A number on an island


Well I was young and proud and free

I loved my home and family

But now you see a refugee

Searching for asylum


Too ra loo ra loo ra loo

They’re looking for monkeys up in the zoo

Said one if I had a face like you

I’d stick you on an island



Saturday, May 15, 2021

Autumn

 


The old chap, he stood in the laneway on this side of the gate listening to the young girl say ' I'm on an adventure' and his eyes, bright and alight said Can I, can I? But he couldn't say it. 

She knew, she reached up and took his hand, and they slowly walked down the laneway, the old chap and the young girl. 'Adventure,' said the old chap.

It was an Autumn mid morning, crisp and bright with a clear blue sky, and trees festooned with magical colours hung over the laneway and dropped a carpet of leaves in yellow, orange, gold and various shades of red.

The smell of bacon and eggs came from behind a fence.

'Yum' said the young girl, 'but we're on an adventure...'

'An adventure', repeated the old chap with a chuckle, 'yes, an adventure.'


Loud voices came from a house.

' And if you think you will ever make an idiot of yourself and a fool of me again...'

'I swear on my mother's grave that I'm off it for good from now on, you'll see... I'm reformed...'

'You are a prime fool, there are times I regret marrying you.'

'Bad boy' said the old chap.


They rounded a corner and a dog barked and tried to leap

the fence. It jumped a number of times scrabbling for a footing, and finally

managed to haul itself over, fall on its back and grogily came to an upright

stance. It made as though to bark.


'Oh my!' said the young girl 'Good boy. And such a good guard dog!'

The old chap had frozen. The dog barked once, half heartedly, then again.

'Such a good boy' said the young girl. The dog wagged its tail.

'Wife' said the old chap. 'Annie.'


A voice yelled 'Rufus! Rufus! Where's that bloody dog?'

A gate opened. 'There you are. Come here you useless mutt.'

Rufus put his tail between his legs and cowered.

'Get your arse back in here. Now!'

'We're on an adventure,' said the young girl.

'Not with my bloody dog. Come here, I won't tell you again.' And he went to

grab the dog collar but the dog bit him.

'Bloody bastard, it's bleeding! It's all your fault!' he yelled at the girl.

And suddenly he dropped to the ground.

The young girl and the old chap peered over him. The dog whimpered and backed away.

'You shouldn't yell at people,' she said.

'Bad boy!' said the old chap.

'Can't move...' replied the man.

'You'll be fine in a while,' she said.

'Adventure' the old chap chuckled. And the young girl and the old chap hand in hand again walked on, followed by the dog and warmed by the sun in the crisp Autumn air.


'Rufus' said the old chap. And the dog nudged his hand, looked up and smiled, as dogs do.

And the old chap smiled back.

An elderly woman scurried along the laneway and came to the prostrate man.

'Oh dear, oh dear are you well?'

'Can't move.'

'Oh dear what to do? Have you seen an old man, I've lost my husband?'

'Can't move.'

'I can't stay here, I must find my husband. I told him not to open the gate...

Not the river, not now, not the river.'


The young girl, the old chap and the dog walked slowly down to the willows

on the banks of the wide river. The flowing water sparkled its warm welcome

and the dog barked twice in excitement.


'Ah, here we are,' said the young girl, walking towards a boat on the bank under a willow tree.

Between the two of them they managed to ease the boat into the river, leaving the grass flattened at that spot. Once aboard, the current pulled them out and the dancing light lit their eyes and reflected on their faces. The young girl slipped a coin into the water.

'Adventure, Annie.' said the old chap 'Adventure Rufus.' And the dog barked again.





  Drowning in Blue “ Ever had one of those moments when you flip down the sunvisor and a huntsman drops into your lap? Guess who I bum...