Stay on the ground, Tony

What with trucks on the highway and quad bikes in the desert, Mr Abbott’s campaign strategy should not include skydiving or bungee jumping.


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A mouse by any other name (please! … )

“Mighty Mouse” as a name for Apple’s previous desktop rodent really didn’t do it for me. But as it came bundled with my last computer, who was I to complain? But at any rate, it scarcely lived up to the jingle I remember from my prehistoric black & white television days in short pants. Unlike his erstwhile namesake, this mousey – for all his undeniable cuteness – had not “come to save the day”. He was (well, still is actually) sore afflicted, like his many cousins, with fluff constipation. The treatment for this condition was never an exact science, despite the widely documented search for a rolled gold cure. Forget the ‘gold’ bit. A mouse thus ailing did very little rolling at all, which was far from ‘mighty’ for him or indeed anyone else.

Well now Apple has released MM’s nephew, and in the process demonstrated that the great originators of the winsome initial lowercase “i-” for every data-bearing device under the sun, just don’t have any creative baby-naming pizzazz left for digital rodents. “Magic Mouse” just doesn’t … Well heck, I’m not sure that it doesn’t make “Mighty Mouse” seem almost poetic. And that’s quite apart from recycling the same initials – a deed destined to frustrate forum junkies no end.

However what the younger and marginally more diminutive MM lacks in naming, he more than makes up for in .. well, doing what rodents of the digital age are supposed to do on one’s desk (or indeed, lap or chair arm in the case of this little critter).

He does take some getting used to. Initially, having just parted with the cash, I was inclined to agree with some unfavourable reviews suggesting gross ergonomic misfortune. I could feel my larger-than-average hands beginning to ache already. But after a few more days’ adjustment, I reckon I’m hooked. In fact I’d now go so far as to rate this bluetooth mouse as the most satisfying mouse I’ve ever used. (And I’ve been through many of numerous shapes and sizes – some with ‘tails’, some without, and the latter both RF and bluetooth.) And this despite it being one of the smallest and with precious little to grab onto.

The secret, I’ve now decided, is to abandon any idea of actually wrapping one’s hand around the critter, in favour of holding it lightly between thumb and ring finger. (Perhaps little finger as well if you have a smaller hand, but I’m only guessing there.) Doing it that way, it glides around beautifully. I’m used to bluetooth mice these days. But my usual gripe is that the device becomes horribly sluggish and inaccurate, if not downright unuseable, when something even slightly intensive is happening. With this mouse however, tracking is smoother and pointing more accurate than any mouse I’ve used, except at those times when there are some processor-hungry things happening. But then nothing works well at those times anyway. Mind you, I must mention that I’ve used it almost exclusively on a one of those recent design optical mousepads. It seemed to do OK on my thigh too, but I didn’t really try that at length.

Perhaps the most pleasing bit is when using it to scroll a page (vertically and/or horizontally). You just sit it on the desk, release the thumb and ring finger, and gently glide the tip of the index finger over the shiny surface. Pure rodent heaven.

Some thoughtful person has already developed a freeware utility called MagicPrefs which adds some great functionality, and one suspects that can only get better. I have picked up a few rumours about hacks enabling the MM to work with a Windoze PC, but that’s not officially supported. So just another reason to get a mac, guys.

Happy mousing Christmas!


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Praying Liberally

A “broad church”, led by an Abbott and a Bishop, cloistered from reality, preaching to the choir, praying for a miracle.


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Separating fact from fiction

Most of those who invoke the doctrine of the “separation of church and state” in political discourse these days evidence little grasp of it’s actual meaning. It’s become a kind of popular Dawkinsian rallying cry for the “new” atheism. Peter Pelzer (Letters, 20/11) is but the latest of many, with his call for greater financial “separation”. The common idea seems to be that religious faith has no rightful place in public life or policy.

In fact the historic principle of church-state separation has little directly to do either with any person’s belief system or with the modern phenomenon of tax exemptions or deductibility. Rather, it’s about whether a particular religious institution is an organ of the state. Unlike Britain, Australia is not and has never been a country where the state is constitutionally enmeshed with any religious body, to the great relief of Christians and secularists alike.

The Australian taxation system makes special provision for religious bodies, not because of anything they believe, but in recognition of their contribution to the well-being of society generally and the marginalised in particular. The emphasis is on their non-profit charitable status. Anyone objecting to that might try envisioning a health or welfare system without them.


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Reinventing Copenhagen

Global climate change treaty looking doubtful? Well not to worry. The seas will eventually reclaim all the world’s industrial sites, and then it won’t matter. But Copenhagen needn’t go down as another week of happy snaps and silly clothes. I propose an alternate agenda:

  • sport: some swimming lessons wouldn’t go astray. And how about a water polo world cup?
  • trade: a global exchange in rubber life rafts, fishing rods and mosquito repellant.
  • construction: relocate UN headquarters to Quito, Ecuador (altitude 2850 m)
  • military: strengthen naval defences. 3 or 4 life rafts per continent should do it.

Or failing agreement:

  • a new age of discovery: if NASA get their skates on maybe we can find another planet somewhere and start again. (Yeah I know – we’ll wreck that one too, but at least it buys us some time … )


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To wit, to who?

I’m trying to decide whether to be more grateful to Greg Craven (Opinion, 4/11) for injecting some balancing wit into current public debate on the merits of theism, or to his respondents (Letters, 5/11) for demonstrating that we Christians are not the only folks who take ourselves too seriously at times. In this AD (After Dawkins) era, when it’s become standard literary fare to laugh off all religious believers as simpletons with “an imaginary friend”, it’s a little bemusing to have non-believers taking offence at the occasional bit of Aussie repartee coming the other way.

Time to lighten up, guys … or we might start praying for you.


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More or less

I’m rather confused about numbers just now. The PM apparently wants fewer asylum seekers and more people whilst his critics want more asylum seekers and fewer people. Is it just me and my arithmetic incapacity, or … ?


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Glass houses

The Rudd government is under heavy fire from it’s own constituency on many fronts, most prominently asylum seekers and climate change. Ultimately the two are united by the question of lifestyle. How thinly can a finite pool of resources be spread before the general populace considers itself deprived and cries foul? And as day follows night, any such discontent will surely find its fullest voice on election day.

And there’s the rub, not just for the government but for all Australians. It’s easy to label the PM as “Howard lite” and charge Government and Opposition alike with gross moral relativism, driven by electoral self-interest. “Vote buying!” cry some. “In bed with the coal industry!” say others.

But at least some of the righteous protesters might well live in glass condominiums. Compassionate largesse and serious community action to slow climate change must eventually cost us all in lifestyle, reducing all our options at home, at work, and in leisure.

Our politicians may be vote-driven. But with 3-year terms and a very comfortable electorate, who’d be surprised?


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Mark 10:46-52

Jesus is always more than you’ve yet realised he is. And following him is always more than you realised it was.

Whoever you are, however much or little you know about Christianity or the church, or remember from Sunday School; however active you are in the life of the church, however hard you’ve worked in the church, however well you sing or read or pray, however well-read you are, however quiet or outgoing you are, however talented you are .. There’s so much you still don’t know about the perfections of Jesus’ character, his kingdom purposes, his supremacy, how much he has achieved in his death and resurrection – for you and for the world, and therefore about what an abundance of mercy he stands ready to pour out into your open and empty hands and heart.

To one degree or another, you are blind and you need to see more clearly who this Jesus is, and you need him to be oh so much more your chosen king, and your merciful shepherd.

So when you come to him, and whenever you read or hear again his saving words,won’t you cry out to him for mercy to wipe away your sin? (That’s what Bartimaeus did: “Son of David, have mercy on me.”) And won’t you beg him to open your eyes that you may see in ways you haven’t before, just how glorious he is, just how perfect he is, just how thoroughly he can wash away your sin, and just how deeply, deeply satisfying he is and wants to be for you.


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It doesn’t work

I’m a film dork, if there’s such a thing. (And if there isn’t, there will be when you’ve met me.) When I’m with a bunch of people who are talking movies, I try to grunt intelligently but my answer to every question is “No, I didn’t actually.” After giving that answer six times, the room knows there’s a cinematic philistine in its midst. (I do occasionally see it on DVD when the world’s moved on, but no one’s asking by then.)

So it was truly out of character that, with a nearly empty evening beckoning, I spent last night in a nearly empty cinema. On the screen was the latest Woody Allen directed flick Whatever Works. It was nearly empty too. I picked it because it was in a timeslot that worked and because I don’t mind some of Woody Allen’s one-liners.

Whatever it was it didn’t quite work for me, but I’m glad I saw it to remind me of the senseless futility of the world viewed through the prism of nihilistic agnosticism. I knew Allen was a bit of a nihilist, penning classic lines like “Life is divided into the horrible and the miserable.” But I’d forgotten just how truly empty and purposeless that world is. From a quick google about Woody Allen, a spiritual drifter from an orthodox Jewish background, he strikes me as a man running from God – and making hard running of it too.

To watch this film is to take a crash course in the brand of ancient gnosticism which, predicated on the ultimate meaninglessness of pretty much everything, advocates the worship of today’s erotic pleasure ahead of yesterday’s covenant.

Will someone please pass me a Bex …


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