So That Was 2010?

Well how about that? 2010 has come and gone. It has been a long year, it's seen many ups and downs for many people, more than I could possibly do justice in a post like this. Suffice it to say we will all remember the year for our own reasons, and that's the most important thing. Let me just take the opportunity to remember those who will not be with us in 2010, they will be missed. Here's to them, long may they last in our memories!

As for 2011, I cannot say what it may hold. If it is anything like this last year, we are set for another fun ride- make the most of it folks! Hopefully there will be plenty more blog posts from me here, and maybe one or two people to read them! To those of you who do read this, have a safe, fun  and happy new years!

Here's a classic to finish off the year:

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 

And never brought to mind? 

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 

And auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear, 

For auld lang syne, 

We'll take a cup of kindness yet, 

For auld lang syne.

 Happy 2011!!!!

Christmas Comes This Time Each Year..

Well it's that 'most magical time of year,' the home of some of the most inspired song lyrics of all time- such as 'Christmas comes this time each year' and 'there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas time.' Anyway, this year sees me travel abroad for the festive season, a first in my life. Of course this means a little blogging holiday! 
(cue wailing and gnashing of teeth)

I just thought I would publish a post wishing everyone a very safe and happy Christmas period. Whether you're with friends, family, loved ones or even the best of company, a.k.a yourself, make sure it's an extra special Christmas for yourself and everyone else. Don't forget it's a time of giving as well as receiving, and there is ostensibly still some religious significance to the occasion! Ok enough of that, have a great one and we'll see you next year!

 Ben (and the Dishwasher) 

 

Souvenir

As the year draws to a close, this song becomes more and more meaningful. It's a real gem from an early Billy Joel album. Short, sweet and very much to the point. Follow the link and enjoy!

Souvenir 

A picture postcard 
A folded stub 
A program of the play 
File away your photographs 
Of your holiday 

And your mementos 
Will turn to dust 
But that's the price you pay 
For every year's a souvenir 
That slowly fades away 
Every year's a souvenir 
That slowly fades away 

Half An Hour On Google, And I'm Convinced I Have A Third Nipple

This is a true story. Earlier this year I was watching the James Bond film The Man With The Golden Gun, with Roger Moore of course. As you may know, the villain Scaramanga supposedly has a 'third nipple,' which you get to see in due course. You even get to see Bond putting on a fake one to impersonate him. Anyway, I was somewhat interested by this whole idea and decided to look it up- I say somewhat interested, because it would sound weird if I were fascinated by this sort of thing!!

Anyway, onto the computer went I and Google supplied me with everything I needed, and quite a deal more for that matter. The Wikipedia article on the Supernumerary Nipple provided me with a lot of information; I soon discovered that the placement of the extra nipple in the film was incorrect, because apparently it was in a anatomically incorrect place. Obviously the people making the film weren't as interested to know about all this as I was! So that lead me to look for the correct biological positioning, of course.

I soon learned that these things mainly occur along the 'milk lines,' for which it is difficult to find a PG diagram. Anyway they basically run from lower arm to lower leg, in a shape like a parabola. And it is along these lines that third nipples are normally found. If you've ever had a cat or a dog, you would probably have noticed theirs at some stage, which follow similar lines. Furthermore, I was surprised to find out that unlike in the movie, which simply had an entire new nipple, a 'supernumerary nipple' need not be the whole shebang, and can simply be little more than a spot. 

This was dangerous information. What it means is that something you thought was just a mole could in fact be... a third nipple! Or at least that's what the internet told me. And I shamelessly admit that at this stage, I did in fact check- just to make sure that I didn't have one of these things. Then I looked and saw not one, but two 'moles' on my left side, quite near to these 'milk lines.' Very interesting indeed. I had to know whether or not these things were just moles, or whether I could have the distinction of claiming a third (and fourth) nipple. 

Further searches of the internet were not too helpful; in fact some were completely misleading and others rather inappropriate. At any rate, it seems that there can be different types of these things, which are detailed in the article above. Some of them may indeed look like nothing more than a spot. I was pretty sure that I did in fact have one of these, but I thought I would have my opinion validated. I'm not very scientific so don't take anything I write here as gospel either- this is just what I got out of searching the internet.

I decided I would consult the resident biologist in our household; she laughed at the idea. Not very helpful. No one else seemed to believe me either. So that left me in the lurch a bit and I sort of gave up on the idea. Maybe one day I will ask a doctor, although it's not the sort of thing you really want to slip into a conversation when you're having a check-up. It could be a funny story to tell people, though of course if they asked to see it, it would be rather anti-climactic. 

But it's amazing how powerful the internet is; within half an hour, it had me convinced that I had a third nipple. Another time I came across a list of skin conditions, and was soon convinced I suffered from dermatillomania! So I advise you now- be careful what you search for!!

Bored Games

I've always loved playing board games, but unfortunately for me I have rarely had the opportunity to do so. Growing up, my family rarely played board games and the like; when we did it was only because we had nothing else to do. In this way they became 'bored games' because we wouldn't ever play them until we had nothing better to do. In a world with tv, that was difficult to achieve!

That's not to say that we didn't have any games to play. On the contrary, we had and still have hundreds of them- I exaggerate slightly. But we had all sorts of games that I always wanted to play, though finding the time and a willing partner was just too difficult. Trying to get the four members of my family to civilly engage in an activity in which three of them would lose was never going to be an easy task. I didn't have any friends to play them with either, so no luck there. My brother, bless his soul, doesn't cope well with losing. I'm not saying I'm exceptionally good at these games, but let's just say that he didn't like playing me very much. Attempts to play a new game would often result in frustration, shouting and the occasional bout of fisticuffs. 

Trivial Pursuit was about the only game my family could play together in a civil fashion. However, the outcome of these games invariably came down to whose team my father was on. He knows more than the rest of us put together; how useful that knowledge is, is another question. We would also play Mahjong, with a nice old set that we have, though we were very slow at it indeed. It would normally end when my father gave up in frustration at yet another unnecessary attempt to make some elaborate and complicated hand. My experience of board games therefore was often one of disappointment, either that I didn't win or, more usually,  that I hadn't even got to finish the game. 

So it is with much regret that I reflect on a childhood in which I very rarely played board games, and when I did they weren't always enjoyable.  I can't think of the last time I played a game of Monopoly and actually got to the end of it. As a result, I can't say that I am as good as I would like to be at these games. But I do love board games; I've even designed a few of them, though they weren't any good. I've even come to the point where I play versions of them against a computer, which is never really that satisfying. I'm not trying to sound sad and pathetic; rather I am simply reflecting on one of the regrets of my younger years. Then again, you're probably never too old to play them!

The Odd One Out

"Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer, and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donder and Blitzen!"

Wait, what? Think about those names for a second. I can understand Dasher, Dancer and Prancer, there's a theme to that as well as a nice internal rhyme. Comet and Cupid have a bit of flying imagery as well as  alliteration, also seen in the first two of the previous line. Donder and Blitzen are of course German for thunder and lightning; while not directly related, you can see where he's going with it. Which of course leaves us with the odd one out. No, I am most definitely not talking about Rudolph.

Vixen. Vixen? It doesn't even rhyme properly with Blitzen. Sure, it's probably the closest thing the writer could think of, but that's no excuse. Vixen. This is of course the name for a female fox. That doesn't particularly help does it?  We all know the other meaning it has come to assume; my dictionary states it is a "spiteful or quarrelsome woman." Others add malicious, fiery tempered and, my favourite, 'shrewish.' Of course the word takes on different connotations when it is used for a band, a film or a store. It has even come to be the female form of villain when comparing the two. But there is of course the other popular meaning of the word.

The temptress; the femme fatale; the seductive yet dangerous damsel; in an ironic return to its roots, a 'foxy' lady. The word seems to be migrating increasingly towards this meaning, even if the dictionaries are slow to pick up on it. On mention of a 'vixen,' one can't help but recall images like the Devil in that terrible Brendan Fraser version of Bedazzled. It says a lot (or not very much) about men that this word could go from a term of derision to one describing irresistibleness. But that shouldn't surprise you; it is just further embodiment of the weakness of men and the power of women. 

So when you come back to Santa's sleigh and you see Vixen lined up in front with her flying chums, it's rather striking. You certainly hope this isn't some sly insinuation of a little predilection for bestiality on Santa's part! Mrs Claus would be mortified. So next time you see Santa and his reindeer, keep a very close eye on the fat man and make sure he's not getting to cosy with his own little vixen!

Bad Journalism Is Embarrassing

As a lover of many sports, one of the few downsides to this is having to put up with sports television coverage. Yes, there are some stations that provide very good sports coverage but these are in the minority. I have often wondered why this is, when you have the same people putting out decent quality news and other shows. A lot of it is to do with personnel; many presenters and commentators for sports are former players or figures in the game. Unfortunately, time has shown again and again that being a good player does not equate to being a good commentator. No way. But these shows persist in bringing out these old, balding and chubby ex-icons whenever the season comes along.

There are a few possible reasons for this; some former players have proved to be excellent commentators without a doubt, and it's easy to see how a misconceived causal link can form there. Also, once players realised that there was a niche for them after their playing days were over, it attracted those who still did not want to get a real job. This was convenient because proper journalists don't really aspire to be sports broadcasters when they write their wish lists. Rightly so, too. So the market essentially creates itself. Unfortunately it can be very, very hairy on the fringes. And you don't get much closer to the fringe than in New Zealand.

Some of our sports journalism is atrocious. It says a lot that Mark Richardson is one of the best in the country. Sure the Rugby guys have a lot of cred, but why on earth do we have Ian Smith standing on the sideline of a game he never played, telling us where the wind is coming from (apart from out of his behind)? Why do we have Grant Nisbett stumbling his way through a Cricket test match? It's just the way it is, and we don't know any better. New Zealand's pool of sports journalists is quite limited, and the quality across the board is not that high. This is particularly important to me because I have always seen this as a back-up career if all my others fall through; and also because a good friend of mine is starting out what seems destined to be a very successful career in the industry.

Anyway, as the title suggests, the end result is embarrassment. I couldn't count the times I have had to change channels or mute the sound during a sports game because I could no longer cope. If you are going to do something, do it right or not at all. One of the best examples of this is when these people start interviewing players on air. Unfortunately for us, the interviewers actually have no idea of what they should be doing and the result is an awkward and bumbling conversation that serves no utility whatsoever. The best part is when you can tell that both people want to wrap it up. One of the more recent developments in this area is the rugby interview, where the commentator asks a question which is really just a statement of what they think, and basically invite the player to say what they think about anything they like. This is not an interview; it's not even a proper conversation. All it is is embarrassing.

Some of the best television commentators are those who have experience on the radio; they know what it's all about. Once they know the basics of commentating, then they can add the personal elements and make their broadcast effective. One of my favourite games to watch is an NRL game covered by Channel 9 in Australia. The likes of Ray Warren and co really, really know what it's all about. Their Cricket coverage is also excellent; messrs Benauds, Lawry, Greig and Chappell have been commentary institutions for many years. But the upcoming bunch, the likes of Healy, Slater and co are less convincing. Some of the worst coverage comes with the 'international' cricket coverage guys, who fill in for all the series where the home teams don't have their own coverage. With the likes of Danny Morrison and co serenading us with utter tripe, it is very hard to watch. Especially when the games are pretty rubbish too.

So that's my rant about sports coverage, though it really does extend to all journalism in general. When it's good, it's good; but when it's bad, it is truly horrible! Back to New Zealand again, compare the Prime News coverage with either TV One or Three. You can't; it's so rubbish, it's not funny. You can tell when they don't have the resources and the commitment; it sticks out. News teams work very hard to get a professional look to their broadcast- or at least the good ones do. When you can see that there just isn't as much effort being put in, it is truly embarrassing. As for the written media, the same can be said for the presentation and accuracy of the work. No one likes to find mistakes (unless you're like me, then it's fun) and they reflect very poorly. As a lover of the written word, it is painful to see grammatical atrocities perpetuated by these daily institutions. 

Anyway, that's enough complaining for now. I sure hope I haven't made any mistakes in this! 

My Cats!

Many people in the world can be separated into two camps: cat people and dog people. Granted, there are other popular pets and some people like both; but more often that not, liking cats puts you off dogs, and vice versa. My family is a cat family and my mother in particular loves cats. Consequently I have grown up with cats and I am well and truly a cat person. It doesn't help that I have had bad experiences with dogs in the past, but I think I always would have been a cat person regardless.

Anyway, our family currently has four cats, the most we have ever had at any one time. I thought it would be nice to share a few photos of them, along with a little biography of each. Before I do that, I decided I would introduce them all to you and then give each one their own post later on.  It only takes a cursory glance at our cats' names to realise there is a theme behind them. My father was in charge of the feline nomenclature department and decided that ordinary names would not do. As a result, those familiar with ancient history and mythology will recognise their names; those not familiar will wonder how we cope with them. But rest assured, they have nicknames. So without further ado, here they are!

Agamemnon

Antigone

Clytemnestra

Nefertiti

 

 

 

These are our four beautiful cats, watch this space for a special post on each one! 

They're Up To Something...

There has been another twist in the tale of my Private war. Or perhaps in this case, a twist in the tail. I was very much minding my own business the other night, when I walked into the bathroom to see this:

There was something very suspicious about the way the cats were acting. It seemed as though they were colluding with my nemeses and I had caught them in the act. You can clearly see one on the right talking to the hot water tap, one top left conspiring with the dryer and the other waiting to talk to the washing machine. I was very lucky to take this photo, because they all quickly dispersed as if nothing had been going on. But I'm on to them. It seems my enemies are recruiting, so I had better be on the lookout. Stay tuned!

Shower Etiquette

Contrary to your expectation, this post isn't about shower etiquette. Well it is, but it isn't. That's a bit confusing so maybe I should stop explaining and just start talking!

The point is, you won't find much literature about things like shower or lavatory etiquette, because it's just not the done thing! I don't plan on breaking that trend, rather I thought I would explore why that is. Obviously it comes down to content; these are the sorts of things we do a lot but normally in private. And we know that other people do too, so what is the point in sharing our experiences? 

Obviously when we first start out in life, these things aren't ingrained in us and we need a degree of input from those raising us. There are even books on toilet training for children, however kitsch they may be. But we reach a point where we break away and a for the rest of our lives we are free to do what we want in our private time. We develop our own personal rituals, which we don't really want to share. I'm sure that parents will say that they have to go through all of this when raising kids, but it's not quite the same. You don't generally get people chatting with peers about how they go about their intimate rituals. It's just not the done thing.

But it's more than that- throw into the mix all those insecurities we develop during our formative years and the subject becomes embarrassing. Obviously our bodies are extremely personal and some more than others find it very difficult to share things about them. As a young upstart I can't speak for older people, but I get the feeling that people tend to get over this sooner or later in life. Obviously many people also come to find someone they can share personal things with, though I don't think this would be a common topic of conversation. 

Anyway, the end result is that these things become a bit taboo, so to speak. Ironically, they are probably more taboo than certain more intimate acts which some people seem to love to talk about. But the thought occurred to me the other day, if you do something in private for so long that you forget being taught to do it, how can you be sure you're doing it right? It sounds silly I know, but for someone with my mind the idea is certainly intriguing. 

This whole line of thought struck me once when someone at school was doing a survey, asking whether people flushed the toilet sitting down or standing up. My first reaction was disbelief that anyone did it any other way than the way I did- a natural response. Then I realised that I wouldn't know what anyone else did, because you just don't talk about it. And then I noticed how difficult the person making the survey was finding it to ask people and get answers. When I thought about how straightforward a question it was, it surprised me but I soon reached the conclusions I mentioned above.

So when you have someone remark, "that was a long shower" or "you weren't in there long," stop for a moment and look behind what they are saying. Perhaps you have different rituals or one of you is naturally slower- or maybe one of you is doing something wrong!! Haha it's unlikely but you never know!

Not Quite The Da Vinci Code

Ok guys, here's a code for you all to crack- no tricks, it's in the numbers. Simply post the answer in a comment!

12x2
86x4
1,964x9
48x4
12x4
11x3
13x5
21x5
77x4
42x3
56x2
26x7
123x2
10x2
69x3
81x5
79x2
15x3
?

Enjoy! hahahahaha

30 Days Has November

Despite being the second-equal shortest month of the year, November has proved to be very long indeed! I can say that I have safely made it out the other side and am now on holiday. Unfortunately that doesn't mean I'm not busy; I've got a heap of work and other stuff to keep my time occupied, so much so I have started to use a diary to keep track of engagements and the like. Anyway, this has meant a rather slow month of blogging and many things I have wanted to write have been put off for another day. But let's have a quick look at what November had in store on Quod Erat Demonstrosity...

We started with quite literally a car-toon and even ventured into the forest for a story which was most definitely not an allegory. There were some general reflections on life, around memoires and impressions, living and sleeping properly to improve your uptime and even a narcissistic look at dressing up. The dishwasher story developed into a full scale war and soon the mastermind was revealed, and my life in sport had another instalment in the form of what apparently passes for running. But I'm sure you've read them all!

So, as with last month, I will give you some funny links to satiate your unfulfilled need for cutting-edge humour. For sports fans, check out these:
League commentator fail
Football commentator fail

For all the nerds out there:
Darth Vader is a smartass
Spelling bee hijinks

And for the rest of you:
Sesame Street like you've never seen it before
Funny TV bloopers 

Hope you had a great November, enjoy December and roll on Christmas!