Oh yes, and a recap...

Tight match, but Pakistan won. They earned it, and it leaves the series 1-1 going into the next.

So I got a good-humoured reminder lecture about not returning to a pattern of drunkenness from Kim last night, and my sister's worried "You shouldn't drink, I don't like it when you do" thing that was resolved when I explained to her that I long ago abandoned my steady slide towards alcoholism, and that this was just a rather unusual indulgence for me.

I did do my first ever tequila slammer last night. Probably my last ever, too, but they're far less awful than I expected.

In other news, I've been needing a new fandom for a while. I'm flirting with Andromeda, but I need to source more episodes of that, and considering watching Smallville when it starts here.

It's an interesting thing that I can still touchtype with accuracy and fluency (although somewhat less quickly) when drunk.

Which I am right now. Only lightly drunk, because I have the ability to get mildly drunk and stay at that point rather than go beyond, since my self-control (rigid as it is) persists sufficiently to moderate my behaviour when blasted. And it was a long car-ride home from my sister's birthday party.

(That's an interesting note, at that. There's little I'm likely to do drunk that I won't do sober; although perhaps my inhibitions are lessened. Hence doing things like telling my sister I love her, which I don't tend to do sober.)

Anyway. Arwen's birthday party, good. Getting drunk, highly unusual for me, but fun. I drank a fair number of cups of Tenille's "rocket punch" - although three of them were drunk for Kim, who can't drink alcohol herself, so those obviously wouldn't be affecting me. Seeing some people I haven't seen for a while, good. All in all I had a great evening celebrating my only sibling's birthday, so that was all good. And I got to remind myself that while I don't usually drink, I'm still a fairly stable person while drunk. I know how to moderate.

And, dude, got some great photos, some of which will be excellent blackmail material, and some of which are just plain excellent shots of some of my favourite people. Also interesting: Tonight was the first time my parents have ever seen me drunk.

This entry written in TextPad just after arrival home, will be updated tomorrow, because right now I'd far rather sleep than go online.

Today (Saturday)'s UberCool is shared:

- my sister, because it was her birthday party, and because I love her. More than I love most people, because for all that's gone between us in our lives, she's still my one and only blood sister. She annoys me more than anyone else can when she's trying to annoy me because she's known me longer than anyone else. And despite it all, I know she loves me. (And she'll always love me, no matter what, because she's my sister.)

- Tenille, for being the sister I never had. (That's how I used to think of Tenille, when Arwen and I didn't get on.) And for being a truly cool, wonderful, lovable and beautiful person. (And for being nice to me anyway when I was sixteen and had a huge crush on her.)

They can share it easily enough, they live together.

Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run
Go give the farmer his fun, fun, fun.

Home a long long long way away from home.

I'm suddenly depressed to think that it's pretty much a given that this is the only planet I will ever walk upon.

Still. This one has beauty, and diversity, and distinctiveness I haven't begun to explore. Tonight I was reflecting on just how amazing even the dusk is, how everything looks so familiar, and yet so different.

Pakistan 6/130.

A moral dilemma has been resolved.

You see, at Cape to Cairo last night we acquired two items of headgear. One, a cap that says "S.A. CRICKET" and has a South African flag and a stylised protea on it. The other, a beanie that says "S.A. RUGBY" and has a springbok (and a protea - well, covering their bases) on it. I took the cap, Mum the beanie, but tonight we swapped. See, not only did I not previously have a beanie, but also - when it comes to cricket, I support Australia. In rugby I do indeed support the Bokke over the Wallabies.

A couple of things I hate about television news. One: It's always several days behind reality, as I discovered once I started getting my news online - generally the "major events" they cover are things I've known about for two to three days.

Two: The fact that coverage can go like this: "A suicide bomber puts Australia's tour of Pakistan in doubt."

Yes. The important thing about a suicide bombing in Pakistan at a time when they and India are on the brink of war is, indeed, whether a cricket tour will go there. Nothing else matters. </sarcasm>

Speaking of Pakistan, they're 5/100 in over 31.5. I'm hoping Australia knocks them off - for less than their target of 168 - before I have to leave for the party tonight.

The reason why I finally got into blogging is that I like the things it shows me. Via Viridian we have an interesting article on the modern anti-hero.

I'm presently watching Australia vs Pakistan. Australia aren't doing so well - but this is only the first innings. Since the Aussies caned Pakistan in the last match, it remains to be seen if our bowlers can manage as much with the pitch. Present score: 7/143. Woof.

Forcibly alters my brain chemistry... It's all so beautifully good!

So by the time I was heading home tonight, I was depressed, irritable, and generally annoyed at the world, and specific people in it. (Despite the fact that bits of today were quite a lot of fun.)

Today's UberCool, while I think of it, is A/Prof Rob Stuart, for being the rockingest coolest lecturer/tutor I've had in some time.

Anyway, while we were on our way home, I was sitting being tired and cranky and then suddenly realised: Hey, this road we're driving down is Cambridge Street. We're going right past Cape to Cairo. I wonder if they're open?

So I mentioned this to my parents, and we stopped there, and I bought:

- biltong (spiced, dried meat, a delicacy of the land of my birth)
- Appletiser (the champagne of fruit juices - although if you ask me, champagne is the Appletiser of wines)
- Simba Tomato Sauce Flavored chips (these are beautiful things, tasting rather like chips dipped in sauce, with this lurid pinkish-red flavour dust stuff that stains your fingers and tongue red)

And many other things that can only be acquired there. But it was the chips I ate on the way home, combined with the Peppermint Crisp we also bought that filtered into my bloodstream and forcibly altered my brain chemistry to put me in a better mood. Mmm, that preservative goodness.

Cape to Cairo, in case it isn't obvious, is an import shop specialising in assorted goods from southern Africa. (Mostly South Africa, but that whole end of the continent, really.) It's run by an elderly expat couple, and is truly delightful for those of us who remember these things fondly.

We discovered the place about three or four years ago, and I nearly passed out with joy to find they offered Appletiser. You see, I fell in love with the stuff in South Africa, and spent the intervening years searching wistfully for something that was as good as the gift from a loving God that is Appletiser. Without even bringing up the additional beauty that is Grapetiser.

Updates, including actual informational content, will gradually be resuming pattern now that my essay is done. It won't be including my general whining or as much UniSFA-oriented content, because I have a new place to put all that.

Coming soon: UCCJournals! It's one of my Holiday Projects to start making these things happen. (Of course, I also have Terracon to help organise.)

When stress dissolves...

This essay is going to come together. I now know what I'm going to write, because I have a quote that I can build the whole damn thing upon. The EEC's 1985 Committee of Inquiry into the Rise of Fascism and Racism in Europe produced the following working definition of fascism:

A nationalistic attitude essentially hostile to the principles of democracy, to the rule of law and to the fundamental rights and freedoms, as well as the irrational exaltation of a particular community, in relation to which people outside it are systematically excluded. [Evrigenis, 1986, Part A, pp.17-8.]

Of course, the wankwords king who wrote the book came up with this definition:

Fascism is a genus of political ideology whose mythic core in its various permutations is a palingenetic form of populist ultra-nationalism. [Roger Griffin, The Nature of Fascism, ( Pinter Publishers, Great Britain, 1991.)]

As I said. Wank. I know what it means, I just think it's really appallingly bad phrasing.

Anyway, now that I can pin this essay together and all, a huge load has been lifted from my mind. Yay. All I have to do now is write it.

You know, true love shows itself in the little things.

My girlfriend gave me cherry flavour lifesavers.

If that's not love, then I don't know what loving is. And God didn't make lidded Greenacres, and it don't rain little green apples in the summertime. (Yeah, yeah. That's how I heard it as a kid.)

Referrer hits continue to rock my world. I got one via Yahoo for "fascist economics" (whoever you are: Yes, I've been talking about fascism a lot lately; no, I don't have any actual informational content on it here). And link backtracking from The Fine Art of Being Come Out To: The Straight Person's Guide to Gay Etiquette, which I think everyone should read.

Mind you, looking at what Yahoo offers, I'm not surprised they clicked through. I'm #5, and if you look at the bit it quotes, damn, I look useful:

... Hitler. Unfortunately, though, fascist economics tend to drive the country they're operating in inevitably towards war. After a ...

I think I should restrict myself to one-line fragments of text that make me look erudite.

Lately I've been (re)reading Venus Envy, by Rita Mae Brown. To those who've read it: Yes, I know. The setup is contrived, the conclusion is really contrived, and bits in between suck and some of the good bits are strangely familiar if you've read other, better books of Rita's, but there are chunks of Venus Envy I nonetheless do like, and I just skim or skip the rest.

And I've been reading waaaay too many books on the subject of fascism, and right-wing politics.

Music of the moment: Lili Fatale - Tomber.

I'd like to take a moment to praise artificial cherry flavour.

Artificial cherry flavour is good. Artificial cherry flavour has a wild, chemical beauty, a taste like nothing occurring naturally on God's earth. Artificial cherry flavour is a pinnacle of human achievement, a masterpiece of the confectioner's art. And it makes you want to hop around.

One thing I'm finding very curious about meeting Jen's sister Pam, having known Jen for quite some time.

I'm starting to understand why my sister's friends were occasionally disconcerted by me when they'd recently met me, because I reminded them of Arwen at odd moments. Pam and Jen are very different, and for the most part they are simply Pam and Jen, two women I know.

But occasionally Pam (and it's Pam who becomes derivative, even though she's older, because we met Jen first) will say something and sound just like Jen, or make a very Jen face. And it will throw me.

So now I understand why it freaked out my sister's friends. It is, of course, a long-association thing.

A memorable instance is the time I was talking to my sister's friend Tenille on IRC, and Arwen was at Tenille's house. Arwen was reading over her shoulder; she and I responded to something at the exact same time, I in channel, she out loud, with the exact same words.

Sisters.

A commentary on "The Owl and the Pussy-Cat".

I can't decide how I feel about it. Sure, it's pretentious, over-literate, and silly. But then, so was Lear. Is it beautiful, or just bad?