Fiji Congratulates David!

It's not just me. My entire country's got in on it!  From Mary Rautu in The Fiji Times:

 FIJI 'WINS' OSCAR

David Seidler

 DAVID Seidler (pictured), a former journalist and speech writer to Fiji's first prime minister and late Tui Nayau, Ratu Sir Kamisese Mara, scooped the award of a lifetime.

Yesterday, the former adviser to Ratu Mara won an Oscar for best scriptwriter in The King's Speech.

A former colleague and close friend, Matt Wilson described the Oscar as a fitting accolade for a gifted person. 

"That's fantastic," he said. "That's great news. I'm very happy that he's won fame as one of the world's best screenwriters. He was a gifted writer with a very unique perspective and quickly developed an understanding of the complexities of Fiji's political situation. He had a keen mind."

The King's Speech, which received 12 Academy nominations, was based on the lengths King George IV of England would go through to overcome his stammer.

In accepting the award, Mr Seidler, 73, who had a stammer as a child said, "I accept on behalf of all the stutterers throughout the world. We have a voice thanks to you, the Academy."

He beat writers of four other movies namely Another Year, The Fighter, Inception and The Kids Are All Right.

Mr Wilson said Mr Seidler spoke in a deliberate manner. "I've seen the movie and it was a brilliant and very moving story," he said. "He spoke in a very precise and deliberate manner, probably a way of overcoming his speech disabilities. You never would have known that he had a stutter."

Mr Wilson shared fond memories of Mr Seidler, saying the latter was recruited by Ratu Mara, who was then leader of the Alliance Party.

"The Alliance became very concerned about details of the constitutional negotiations being leaked to Len Usher and myself and ending up in The Fiji Times the next day so they decided they wouldn't speak to us," he said. "We walked into a reception where all the Alliance politicians were present and it was very noticeable that they were giving us the cold shoulder.

"It was David, who sidled up to me and murmured in an embarrassed fashion that they weren't allowed to have any contact with us, however, the leaks continued."

Ratu Mara's daughter and now First Lady, Adi Koila Nailatikau recalled Mr Seidler's years in Fiji.

She said Mr Seidler was recruited by Ratu Mara to write his speeches on pre and post independence.

"I would like to say on behalf of my family we are grateful, privileged and honoured to have been associated with him through my late father, the Turage na Tui Nayau," she said. "We are proud and elated that he has won this award because he really deserved it. It goes to show that my father saw the great talent that David Seidler had because it's very rare for someone to write speeches, but he wrote great speeches for one of Fiji's great leaders."

"He was able to articulate the issues that my father the late Tui Nayau wanted to express and if the Tui Nayau was here he would be so proud and elated," Adi Koila said.

The King's Speech also won best picture, best actor and best director awards.

Fiji's Very Own Oscar!

As a sign of my Jingoistic bellicose patriotism, I'm claiming David Seidler's Oscar for "Best Original Screenplay" in the name of Fiji!

 Go Fiji Go!

It would be Fiji's second Oscar, although no one remembers the name of the woman who won our first.

It's a strange story, so I'm putting it out there hoping someone will say "Oh, that's so-and-so!" because it's something that should be known.  In fact, should be widely known and boasted about at every single opportunity!  The lady deserves that!

What happened was that, when I was about 11 years old (if we want to put a date on this, it was while they were putting in the new Record Bar on the Narsey's side of the building, and you had to go through the scaffolding to get to the toilets) I went into the loo at Morris Hedstrom's department store, in downtown Suva, and found a middle-aged Fijian woman lying on the lounge in there, draped dramatically the full length, and bawling her eyes out.  Naturally, I asked her what was wrong and, almost prostrate with grief and not really able to talk, she pulled Uncle Oscar himself out of her handbag and handed him to me! 

Yup, I have actually held a real live Oscar in my very own hands.

As I've said many times, I've had a lifetime of totally unexpected 'from left-field' events, but this still ranks high among them. And if you want to know what it feels like to carry one, Oscar's heavier than he looks, feels like quality and has a really nice aerodynamic heft to it that makes you long to swing it in the air.  Two of them and you'd have really good equipment for building upper body strength.

Anyway, I was awestruck and, because she was so upset, didn't immediately practice my very own Oscar acceptance speech in the mirror, although I really, really wanted to.  "How did you get this?" I asked her instead.  "Best Editing!" she told me.

She told me the story: "I left Fiji 22 years ago, determined not to return until I was a great success.  But nothing I did seemed big enough, so I waited and waited ... but I left it too late.  Last week, I won this Oscar so I came home to boast, but everyone I wanted to show off to, they've all gone.  And no one else seems to know what a great honour it is to win one of these, so they don't care." 

"I care!" I said to her.  "In fact, I'm genuinely and deeply impressed!"

"But you don't count." she said.  "I don't have any beef with you." and then she looked at me hard. "Who are your parents?" she asked.

I told her.  "Oh my god, I knew Dr Murphy.  He wasn't married.  Who did he end up marrying?"

I told her that too. "I know your mother. My goodness, she was a lecturer when I was doing my nursing training.  Gosh, she married Dr Murphy! That is news to me. Well, I have no beef with her, but will you please tell her I won an Oscar."

She said she won under her married name, but my mother would know her by her maiden name and since it was one of those impossibly long Fijian surnames I knew I'd never remember it so I wrote it down on my wrist ...

... and I recall writing something like like Buladrokodrokodrove or Bainimanukunuku or something else long and impossible starting with a B.  Yup, I'd almost be prepared to swear I wrote a capital B at the start ...

... and when I got home I asked my mother if she remembered one of her old nurses called Something Bainima-so-and-so or whatever it was, but, alas, she said she didn't.  Nevertheless, I passed on the message and "That's nice, dear!" my mother said but with the greatest indifference imaginable.

So David's Oscar is really Fiji's second, but who on earth was the lady who won the first? Who would she have been and how can we possibly find out?  Merlyne?

Dame Mary Meets The Fox Goddess!

I am having the worst time trying to download a newspaper clipping into here. I'll have get Keith to insert it later. And no, I'm not being smutty.  I mean that he can do those computer-nerd sort of things that are always beyond me.

Anne sent me a newspaper clipping from 1987 issue of The Fiji Times containing an interview with Dame Mary Edwell-Burke, published to coincide with the 1987 Retrospective Exhibition of her work: 

"FIJI'S GAUGUIN STILL GOING STRONG AT 93" 

This article contained many important details I've included in my yet-to-be-posted Wikipedia article, (gosh, those other Wiki-writers can be so cruel about submissions, you have to be so careful) but something that I won't be writing is so very strange that, when reading it, the hair stood up on the back of my neck!

Without knowing it, it would seem that Dame Mary Edwell-Burke met the Himalayan Fox Goddess!

It's so odd, let's say it again:

Dame Mary Edwell-Burke met the Himalayan Fox Goddess!

As you know, when I first arrived in HK eight years ago, I immediately read my way through HK Library's Asian Mythology section - every single book they had in English - including a book, published in Singapore, called "Chinese Ghost Stories" wherein person after person recounted first-hand accounts of meeting the Fox Goddess.

All these stories were so alike, I wondered why they had bothered to publish more than one of them.

And the basic story goes like this:  "I was hiking alone through the Himalayas when a strange woman suddenly appeared in front of me.  She was oddly dressed and wore red high-heeled shoes, which seemed strange in the mountains. I spoke to her but she didn't reply, instead she looked deep into my eyes and then vanished.  I ran away screaming to the nearest house/inn/shelter/town where I told what had happened but no one knew what I was talking about and everyone got angry with me. However, I was lucky I was there, in shelter, because a snow storm hit and this apparition turned out to have saved my life. But, in the following days/weeks/months/years, I started to lose weight.  I got thinner and thinner, sicker and sicker, until doctors feared for my life.  Then, in a fever, the apparition visited me and said I was to honour her in gratitude for saving my life, and so I agreed to do so and instantly got well again."

I'm trying to find references to The Fox Goddess for you, but there are only articles on Kitsune, the Japanese Fox Goddess, and nothing whatsoever on the Tibetan one.

However, I'm telling you all this because this story is exactly - but without the screaming - what Dame Mary told in this interview while talking about the highlights of her life, which is particularly strange because Dame Mary obviously didn't know the first thing about Himalayan Fox Goddesses. I mean, she didn't even mention the red shoes, which is probably the first thing someone who DID know about Himalayan Fox Goddesses would have mentioned.

Anyway, in Mary's story she was 20 - which would make this about 1914 - and traveling alone through the more out-of-the-way places of the world and by the time she reached the slow-boat-to-Dubai in the Middle East section of her journey, she was so thin and sick, the ship's doctor was so worried about her the chef in First Class was sending wonderful food down to Third Class to tempt her appetite.

But then, just before reaching Dubai, she got feverish and, yes, had her apparition and told The Fox Goddess that she would honour her by painting her portrait from memory ... and immediately got well again and was able to eat those wonderful French dishes being sent down to her; food so delicious she said she'd remember them until the day she died.

The painting Mary did of The Fox Goddess was simply titled "Woman" and it was her first major sale - to the Australian National Gallery - and it would appear that this set her on her path for the rest of her life.

When I told Anne this story, she promptly wrote to the Australian National Gallery asking if it were possible to see the image ... and was told they didn't have it anymore; that it was sold off some unknown time in the long-distant past.

So somewhere out there, in some unknown part of the world, there is an actual portrait of The Himalayan Fox Goddess ... so there's yet another painting of hers - the other being of Fiji's Founding Father, Ratu Sir Lala Sukuna - that we're going to HAVE to track down.

I mean, who doesn't want to see the actual face of the goddess! Any goddess!  But a Tibetan Fox Goddess?  It doesn't get any better than that, does it!

Marianne Faithful Concert!

Marianne Faithful is in concert here in HK on March 7 and 8.  I can't wait.

In fact, when I read it was happening, I put it to Keith in the most simple terms I could think of: "We are going to this concert or you will be killed in your sleep.  The choice is yours!"

I have long adored Our Patron Saint Marianne. Could that BE any more Emo of me?

I mean, "Broken English" WAS the early 80s for me.  Andrea and I, driving around Brisbane at night, Marianne on the car stereo playing LOUD!!!  Happy, happy times!  Nice nice memories!

In fact, let me find something for you ... well, actually for ME.  I feel like a bit of Saint Marianne right now:



Now, while listening to this, just imagine you're 19 and driving through a warm night in an old "practically a wreck" blue car, windows down, warm wind through your hair, one of a bunch of goth-dressed, proto-Emo Chicks, singing this at the top of your lungs.  That how I recall it!

And if you too want to relive a little of your past too, you can order tickets at www.urbtix.hk or 852-21115999.  Details at: www.hk.artsfestival.org

Merrill Linch!

Look at how cool this is!  Our friend Paul is in the latest ad for American banking firm Merrill Linch!  Have a look!



I won't tell you which one he is, but I will tell you that he appears lots!

This is so cool. In fact, it's almost as cool as seeing our friend Pete do that sinister 'evil scientist' laugh in Jackie Chan's film "The Myth" ...



You can't see Pete in this trailer, 
so you have to see the film!

... only not quite.  That sinister laugh of Pete's was seriously cool, so I think Paul should have also done a sinister laugh in this Merrill Linch ad.  I mean, given everything that's happening in banking these days, it would hardly be inappropriate, now would it?

Christchurch Round-up!

The Australian Network here in HK has gone back to regular programing, so I now have to wait for the midday news to find out if they've found Hysterical Yugoslav Guy's daughter, pretty Chinese girl's best friend, Grey-Hoodie Guy's girlfriend, Red-Hoodie Guy's brother, and the mother of that gorgeous tiny little boy who brought his dog into the city, trying to hand it over to the police saying his dog was so clever it could easily sniff out his mum.


Talk about tear-your-heart out!

Gosh, live-to-air coverage is an involving experience, isn't it! You may not know anyone's names but you get so caught up in these folks lives and emotions.

Like, I'm finding it very frustrating we only saw a few of these stories finished. Red-Parker Guy's was ...

I think this is Ann.  

Footage just now up on youtube.

No identification.
Later: No, just  found out that
this is Rosemary,
whose siblings were also
standing vigil in the park, talking about how
she had just that day started working 
in that building.

... however since Ann was, as you know, rescued and her charming and articulate husband - aka Red-Parker guy - was beaming with such quiet and profound joy, it made you cry for ages, so that was nice, and Pretty Maori Nurse found her son - who was such a hunk of drop-dead gorgeousness we were so pleased he wasn't hurt ... and all that wonderful machismo and "Aw, shucks, mum. Stop embarrassing me!" attitude and how he turned away from the camera so you couldn't see him cry, made you cry all the more ... but all these other stories that also grabbed our hearts, it's just so annoying we're not seeing more in-depth coverage because we really want to know how these other stories ended.


We? Yes, Baby Jane was home sick and watching it too, over in Australia, so we chatted for hours on the phone about all these people and just how heartbreaking they were, all standing there in parks near the collapsed buildings, just waiting so quietly and patiently - apart from Hysterical Yugoslav Guy, who was on the phone and claiming he was actually talking to his daughter trapped under her desk, and so was naturally upset Search and Rescue had deemed that building too unstable to enter - all showing such to-the-bone anguish, you just wanted to race over to Christchurch to comfort them personally, or to tear into those buildings yourself to save the person they were in vigil for. (Yes, Lyn, I do indeed end sentences with prepositions, but I have Strunk and White's authority to do so on this matter!) 


And (yes, Lyn, I'm starting a sentence with a conjunction, but Stephen King says that's a rule worth breaking for the vitality it gives a sentence) Baby Jane and I both decided that Christchurch mayor, Bob Parker, was impressing the bejeez out of us, what with his articulate confident fluency and his ability to effortlessly come up with quotable quotes.  And that Kiwi fireman who said "If you're praying folk, please pray for us.  These things work, you know."


Ah, midday!  News! See you later!


Later: Regular news just doesn't do it for me with this disaster.  I want that in-depth coverage, not short little news grabs. Especially since the big story is now Libya and not chucking out Gaddafi, which really is such a slam-dunk it's only the when and how that's even marginally interesting.


Keith and I were discussing this last night and he's predicting Gaddafi won't go until there's a great deal of death and destruction, believing he'll destroy his country rather than surrender, whereas I think Gaddafi's such a braggart and boaster that he'll fold in a heartbeat.  Bullies always do.


Let's see which one of us is right.  


By the way, before I change the subject entirely, I must tell you I have an intimate, insider story about his son-and-heir, Seif - or Safi, as we call him in Townsville - but I won't tell you because everyone involved signed confidentiality agreements, but let's just say that I know for a FACT that this fellow is unbelievably and profoundly evil and someone who you sincerely don't want running any country anywhere in the world, so please cheer for anyone and everyone who's trying to stop that happening.


But heartening as that Libya news is, it is hardly what you want to watch when you desperately want to know if they've found Hysterical Yugoslav Guy's daughter, pretty Chinese girl's best friend, Grey Hoodie Guy's girlfriend, Red Hoodie Guy's brother, and the mother of that gorgeous tiny little boy who brought his dog into the city, trying to hand it over to the police saying his dog was so clever it could easily sniff out his mum.


And this very unsatisfying news grab simply says that they've cordoned off the CBD - so no more vigils -and only one more person has been found alive, although they aren't saying who. (Please, Kwan Yin, let it be the mum of the little boy with the clever dog!) And it also says that the Australian Search and Rescue Teams have been given the too-dangerous-to-enter buildings, so let's hope against all hope that they aren't injured while rescuing the loved ones of all those folk who are so in our hearts and prayers.

Christchurch!

Just to break your heart, have a look at what is lost:



Sad, isn't it!  That Christchurch Catherdral was so beautiful and so iconic, and a Kiwi National Treasure too. And I can't get my head around those Canadian tourists who were in the building when it collapsed and, because they managed to escape, were saying "God was looking after us." which made me wonder why god would look after Canadians while allowing such a beautiful structure to be brought down that way.

And it's a little concerning about how many brand new buildings have pan-caked.  It's a little like the Sichuan earthquake where everyone was saying "How come all the buildings that were built by Hong Kong contractors are still standing strong, while the buildings put up with Mainland contractors have all been reduced to rubble?"

Things that make you go "Mmmmmm!"

But it seems wrong to mourn for buildings when there are 75 confirmed dead and reports of over a 300 people still missing in the rubble. And did you know there's even talk that several of the buildings are too unsafe, including the local CTV station, and so they will stop searching for the people known to be in there? And these are well-known TV personalities too that they're leaving behind - news anchorpeople and life-style show presenters - as well as camera crews and such! And already they are showing their faces as dead even while their still-hopeful families wait in the park outside, in the rain, lighting candles and praying.

This is something else I can't get my head around.  Kiwis these days just leaving people trapped!  They did it with those miners at Pike River last year too.  It's so wrong and certainly isn't the Kiwi way!  We from the Antipodes never used to do these sorts of callous and pragmatic things, and that was why I always loved us so much; was always so proud of us; thought we were the ones showing the rest of the world how everyone righteous should behave.

And those righteous folks who are continuing with this tradition are being arrested by the Civil Defense and the NZ police. Yes, they are actually arresting people who are going ahead with their own searches. I can't see any successful prosecutions there, however, so I hope they don't take any of these folks to court for these "crimes", because it will definitely unleash a cyclone of public anger.

But what a strange year it's been so far for we Antipodeans.  ABC here in Hong Kong seems to have turned into the Live-to-Air Disaster Channel, and three times so far this year I've had the TV on all day, doing vigil and lighting candles, giving my Kwan Yin a good workout.

Who once said "The life of this planet is like the life of a soldier.  Long, long periods where nothing happens, followed by moments of screaming terror."

There's talk naturally.  Mainly it's about how the CIA is at Weather War with the Southern Hemisphere, using "haarp" technology to cause these series of disasters.  Me, personally, I'm thinking Gaia.  But none of this helps, does it, when people are trapped inside buildings.

Honestly, this is one of those occasions when "watching your budget" is not recommendable.  All those spendthrift folk who went out to buy lunch are right as rain, whereas those folks who saved their money by "lunchbagging" at their desks, are now, hopefully, still trapped beneath those desks, hoping they will be rescued ... which won't happen if the NZ Search and Rescue continues with this ridiculous pragmatic attitude.

Hey, and what's the bet New Zealand is now really, really, REALLY regretting that they got rid of their Army, seeing it as an unnecessary burden on tax payers!  They didn't realise that Armies do more than just kill people.

The "Miss Mary" Controversy

Anne Smith is currently tracking down what happened to drive Dame Mary Edwell-Burke, then known as Mary Edwards, out of Australia back in 1944.  Here's an extract that she found in the history of the Archibald Prize and what they had to say about it:

 William Dobell's 

"Joshua Smith: Portrait of an Artist."

"It was William Dobell's prize winning portrait of fellow artist Joshua Smith in 1943, which finally broke with the conventions that had been established with the Archibald. Hunt describes the portrait as being 'haunted with vivid expressive colours, linear distortion and almost mannerist attenuation of form'.

Opposition to the win was intense and two Royal Art Society members, Joseph Wolinski and Mary Edwards, took legal action against Dobell and the Trustees, alleging that Joshua Smith was 'a distorted and caricatured form' and therefore not a portrait. In contrast, the supporters of Dobell described the portrait as both 'a likeness or resemblance of the sitter and a work of art', which allowed for distortion for the purpose of art.

In response to critics Dobell said that when he painted a portrait he was '... trying to create something, instead of copying something. To me, a sincere artist is not one who makes a faithful attempt to put on canvas what is in front of him, but one who tries to create something which is living in itself, regardless of its subject. So long as people expect paintings to be simply coloured photographs they get no individuality and in the case of portraits, no characterisation. The real artist is striving to depict his subject's character and to stress the caricature, but at least it is art which is alive.'

The case stimulated massive press coverage and public comment - by those both familiar and totally unfamiliar with art. Ultimately, the Dobell case became a lively debate about Modernism. The question of whether the painting was portraiture or caricature equally asked the questions of what constituted a portrait and what was the relationship of realism to art in general. Justice Roper upheld Dobell's award on the grounds that the painting, 'although characterised by some startling exaggeration and distortion... nevertheless bore a strong degree of likeness to the subject and undoubtedly was a pictorial representation of him.'"

Gosh, there's something very convoluted in this entire argument, isn't there!  On one hand they're saying he wasn't trying to do a representational portrait, and on the other hand they're saying Joshua Smith was a very distorted-looking person so this is a representational portrait.

Mmmm, imagine being Joshua Smith with folks in court claiming you do indeed look like that portrait.

Thanks so much for this, Anne.

Grave Matters!

It's all happening so fast on the Dame Mary Edwell-Burke front, I keep thinking about "The Emptiness Sutra" hidden in the forest behind the Po Lin Monastery at The Big Buddha in Ngong Ping in Hong Kong.

You may recall "The Emptiness Sutra" which I wrote about this time last year.  In that post I talk about how, try as I might, I simply couldn't get my head around what it was on about, however I never told you that days later I had an epiphany wherein I realised that it simply means that ...
 
... when the Heavens want something done, it happens very easily on earth.

It's part of the Buddhist creed "Desire Nothing!" because things will happen if and when they're meant to happen.

And the reason The Emptiness Sutra is hidden there in the forests of Ngong Ping is because building the Big Buddha all happened so very, very easily. In 1992, Po Lin on Lantau Island was an old, decrepit and impoverished monastery with only several elderly monks remaining and not a single novice, but then the Head Monk, while in prayer, had a sudden flash of a vision wherein he saw a giant seated Buddha on a particular hill, and a voice in his head said "There has been no giant seated Buddha image of me built in exactly 1000 years".  It was all so strange he told people about it ... and everyone he told immediately leapt on board saying "Here's the money.", "Here's the materials." "I'm an architect." etc, etc, etc, so in only a few months the project was underway and within a year the Big Buddha was seated there for all to see; the only giant seated Buddha built in 1000 years.

But what does this have to do with Dame Mary's gravestone?

Everything!  

 Dame Mary Edwell-Burke.

"Self portrait with Hibiscus."

Ms Sagale Buadromo, Director of The Fiji Museum, got in touch the other day saying she'd read my blog post and, after thanking me for pointing out the omission, said the Fiji Museum would erect a headstone for her.  It was such good news but I panicked because already there were so many people who'd come aboard and who definitely wanted a say and I was so worried it would be taken away from them, so I thanked Ms Buadromo profusely for her offer but said she should talk to them first.

What was already in play was that Anne Smith had applied for permission to erect something at Dame Mary's grave, Fiji artists Warrick and Craig Marlow, who knew Dame Mary well, already were getting their heads around what to design for an appropriate monument, everyone was mooting Renu, the exceptionally talented stonemason at Fiji's Beautiful Monuments, as the person with the appropriate passion, talent, skill and artistry to manufacture the eventual design ... and now I hear the very exciting news that Ms Buadromo has come aboard and The Fiji Museum will pay for the finished product.

How "Emptiness Sutra" is that?

So that's the plan as it currently stands, and everyone is saying that it should all be done by Dame Mary's birthday on June 19th, which we all hope will be the day of the dedication ceremony.

And they're all saying I have to be there because I was the one who started it with all this agitation. LOL!

However, the news isn't so good on the other fronts.  I have signed up as a Wikipedia writer for the simple purpose of giving her a cyber-presence, and have an item on Dame Mary ready to roll, only bloody QANTAS is holding it up.

In our research, we discovered QANTAS owns copyright to all her images.  Apparently they took them in exchange for letting Dame Mary have free air-travel on their planes and for allowing free travels for any of her paintings.  So we can't do anything on Dame Mary's art without their say-so.  But they're not saying.  All the letters and phone calls, and I'm simply drawing a blank. Everyone says they'll get back to me but no one is.

Maybe I should put it up anyway and force them to deal with me!

Hey, do you recall those halcyon days when QANTAS was a great airline?  These days?  Phsaw!  Bah humbug!!!  Remember how they lost Keith's luggage and he had to spend days down in Sydney with no winter clothing ... and they didn't even apologise!  Honestly, it's like they're no longer Australians, the way they now behave! 

And do you too find it rather sinister and suspect that they're not leaping at the prospect of someone putting the name Dame Mary Edwell-Burke out there?  It's almost like they don't want it to happen.  And when you couple that with the Australian Embassy in Fiji saying they no longer have the catalogs they made - that have photographs of the 90 of her paintings that are now in private hands - that were in their 1987 Exhibition, that we were hoping to turn into a slide-show to be shown at an event we're planning to co-incide with her grave-stone dedication ceremony, it almost begins to feel like Australia is trying to STOP anyone from remembering her.

Normally I love conspiracy theories, but the idea of this being one just makes me feel rather ill! Surely the Australian Art Scene isn't powerful enough to continue their right screwing-over nearly 70 years after she offended them by daring to question their judgement?  But since any part of this plan that involves Australia suddenly becomes so very difficult, it really does make you wonder, doesn't it?

But if The Emptiness Sutra teaches us anything, it's that Heaven wants a gravestone for Dame Mary, and so that is definitely, definitely, DEFINITELY going to happen, and all the rest of it may not be so Heaven-sent and as such may take a much greater struggle. 

Are we up for that one too?

In Praise of Youtube

I know I'm always going on about how amazing youtube is, but I must say with the greatest sincerity that it really has everything.

Like, Kelly was talking just now about how much the film "Avatar" reminded her of the Australian film "Fern Gully" and I disagreed and said it reminded me so much more of "Pocahontas".

Well, and I was in youtube just now and came across this:



And moments later, I came across this:



Really, youtube is a continual source of wonder to me.  There is practically nothing you can think nor an opinion you can have, without finding it already on youtube.

Great Leadership!

Yesterday, I was talking about Ratu Mara, the role of true leadership and how Alan Paton's lovely novel "Cry, the Beloved Country" proposed the idea that a Great Leader has three qualities: The Heart, The Voice and The Presence.

Then late last night I recalled something  rather astonishing: 

Back in our high school, St Joseph's, back in maybe 1972, while we were reading Alan Paton's book, in class one day Sister Francis showed us an old 20 minute long black-and-white film taken by a Catholic priest in a kitchen of an unnamed member of South Africa's then newly outlawed ANC.

This short film was simply four men sitting around a kitchen table talking about the future leadership of South Africa, and Sister Francis told us three of these men were the ones Alan Paton's characters talked about in the book; the three possible future leaders once South Africans had won the war on Apartheid.

I forget who these three were, but in this film there was a fourth man, quite small in stature, who just sat there listening but who still owned that room.  He had the most remarkable charisma and such intelligent loving eyes that none of us could look away from him.  And then, right at the end, he spoke and it was beautiful. In the most intelligent way, he summed up and countered each of the other three arguments, and then came up with his own viewpoint.

"That's him! That's him!" we  all called out.  "He's South Africa's rightful future leader." 

Naturally, yes, we'd all identified Nelson Mandela, because we could all see he was the one who had it all: The Heart, The Voice, and The Presence.

Gosh, who knew back then what was about to slowly unfold in that far away country!  Actually, it would seem that an entire class of St Joseph Form 4 girls already knew.  No, I'm not claiming we were all psychic, just that, yup, it was that obvious!

Go Fiji GO!

Just heard some very exciting news.  David Seidler, the fellow who wrote "The King's Speech", used to live and work in Fiji where his job was ... Ratu Mara's speechwriter.

Surely I don't have to tell you that for over forty years Fiji's Ratu Mara was the most amazing leader; a giant among men; definitely in the Big League of truly great leaders of the world.  He was the most achingly beautiful soul: all so noblesse oblige and elegant and erudite and so tall and handsome - 6 foot 9 inches tall - and always so wise and fair and right.

But, being brutally honest here, it was when he went out into the world he really came into his own for us because he towered over all other world leaders making them look like very little people indeed, and so we Fijians were all so very very proud of him ... but also of ourselves because he was us; that at a transcendental level he was our presence out there in the world and dammit if that wasn't a very fine presence for us all to have.

Big Brother Gerald once, as a young boy, wrote a letter from his boarding school in England, saying he'd just seen Ratu Mara on the BBC news, with the Queen, and all the other boys had turned to him and said "That's your Prime Minister? Wow!" and Gerald remarked that he too suddenly felt 6'9" tall and so immensely proud to be Fijian.

GO FIJI! We may have been a tiny little country in the middle of nowhere, but, boy oh boy, could we ACE the world in all the ways that really counted.

When I was growing up, and possibly even today, in all Fiji high schools, Alan Paton's magnificent novel "Cry, The Beloved Country" was compulsory reading, and when you take everything else away, this book is fundamentally about the role of leadership and what it takes to make a Great Leader. While reading this novel, we used to discuss this in class, and decided the conclusions the books reached was that to be a true leader in any country you need The Heart, The Voice, and The Presence.

And when a leader has these, so does the country.

And when we had Mara, Fiji also had these things.

So this is something I grew up knowing: that at a transcendental level the Leader of any country IS that country, is the heart, the voice and the presence of the country. I guess David Seidler learned it from him as well because Ratu Mara was always very aware of that.

And it is because of Ratu Mara,  I have always expected no less from any Leader I've ever had and so I usually end up being most disappointed.  What a sniveling bunch of nobodies, with no real value whatsoever, they've all turned out to be!  Yes, I've known a truly great leader in Ratu Mara and so I KNOW what is is to be truly led.

And this great transcendental truth is something made so clear in the film "The King's Speech".  Have you seen it yet?  If you haven't, here's the trailer:



I am speculating here that David Seidler discovered through knowing Ratu Mara, the true role of great leadership, so I am proudly crediting FIJI with what is the true greatness of this film.

And I'm very serious about this! Do you recall back in 2001, during that fraught Tampa affair, when the Norwegian Prime Minister looked straight down into the international cameras and lied!  Yes, he actually LIED straight-faced to the international media like this was a perfectly acceptable thing for a leader to do.  I was so very furious, I couldn't stop ranting and fulminating about it, saying "If the Norwegians let that pass, I will forever think they are all a bunch of lying, cheating, vile scumbags!" so I was joyous when only about a fortnight later the Norwegians threw him out, letting him know that it wasn't OK for him to be this person, because THEY were not this person! Yayyy!!  GO NORWAY!

You know, what I have always loved about my Vanua Loma, Fiji, is that it always turns out that whenever true greatness happens anywhere in the world, there is always - ALWAYS - a Fiji connection!

So kudos to Fiji for once again showing the world the way it should be! And let's take a bow for whatever "The King's Speech" achieves in the upcoming Oscars!

GO FIJI!!!!

Resurrection!

.

A photo taken yesterday and sent from Townsville.

A week post-cyclone!  How wonderful is Mother Nature!  Thank you so much, Sylvia.

Or looking at our Townsville house as it was yesterday, shouldn't I be thinking that:

Our place! 

Photo also from Sylvia!

Notice how all our fruit trees 

have been Yasi-ed!

Sad! Sad! Sad!  See that big gap there? Those were once several of my healing trees: those trees especially identified as having all sorts of miraculous healing properties and since these were particularly slow-growing ones, I planted them early, about 10 years ago, so they'd be fruiting in about 20 years time, with the intention of making jams etc from the fruit and thereby escaping all the nasties that usually accompany the aging process.

So they were about half way through their maturation ... and now this! Mother Nature can be very cruel, can't she!

Dame Mary's Grave!

I thought I'd be angry.  I thought I'd be screaming "What an abomination!" but instead I just feel so deeply deeply sad.

As I mentioned yesterday, Anne Smith and Craig Marlow went to Nasinu Cemetery just outside Suva in Fiji to establish if it was true that Dame Mary Edwell-Burke was buried in an unmarked grave and ...

... it's not good news because, yes, it's true. This brilliant, eccentric, wonderfully accomplished world-class artist indeed has no gravestone; nothing to let anyone know that this mighty, magnificent and masterful lady lies below. Nothing to visit. Nothing to honour.  It's just a number stuck into the ground.

 Dame Mary's grave!

Just one more unmarked grave among many unmarked graves.

 Mary's grave!

In the forefront of this picture!

This is just so wrong, isn't it!  Dame Mary was a lady who had it all.  The outstanding talent, the quirky Bohemian personality, the Gauguin-esque adventure-filled biography, the studio in Paris back in the 20s, the laurels, blessings and honours of the London art community, the blinding drive to dedicate her life to The Muse of Art, and the vast body of stunningly accomplished work ... yet one fight with the Australian Art Community back in 1943 - calling into question their support of the artist Dobell - calling him a 'caricaturist' and not an artist - and she was banished from the Art Scene, seemingly forever!

I mean, just look at the painting she criticised as 'a caricature':

Dobell's "Joshua Smith: 

Portrait of an Artist!"

How is she wrong?

I mean, what IS this?  You're forbidden to knock an Art-Scene Darling!  Question The Almighty Art Critics and you're forever thrown into some dark limbo-like never-never-land where no one even acknowledges you exist anymore?

How can they be allowed to do this?

Powerful men!  One little lady!  One pale, ethereal, achingly talented little lady!  She dared to question them and so they stomped her into the ground! AND unmarked ground for that matter! They couldn't even allow her that!

It's just so very sad. I really wish I was angry about this because I want to say more.  I want to fulminate and castigate and throw great big hissy-fits and dive deep into mean-spirited trouble-making and agitate to guilt-out anyone and everyone into doing something to put this to rights!

But I can't.  I'm just too sad.

It's not a lot to ask, is it!  A gravestone!  Some marker to show that she once lived! Once created! Once existed among us!  There, in the forefront of the photo above. Can you see it?

Miss Mary.  

Dame Mary Edwell-Burke. 

1894 - 1988.  

Artist.

It is NOT a lot to ask, is it!  So please, can we all start asking?

The Hunt for Dame Mary!

The search for the lost Dame Mary Edwell-Burke's portrait of Fiji's Founding Father - Ratu Sir Lala Sukuna - may have reached an exciting point as there is now word on Fiji's "coconut wireless"  of a recent sighting which means we now could have a lead as to where it is today.

Vinaka vaka levu, Joweli!

Naturally I will let you know if this lead pans out.  And I will definitely post image of it in here as soon as I'm able.  However, in the meantime, I'll post this one again:

 

 "Self-portrait with Hibiscus"!

Dame Mary Edwell-Burke.

NOT the missing painting!

Do you know about The Coconut Wireless?  If you don't, it's this amazing and seemingly preternatural phenomena found throughout the Pacific Islands, where certain things - usually the barest skeleton of a fact - turn into a Mexican-wave-like tide of talk which grows as it travels with more and more people adding what they know, until this skeletal fact gains muscle, sinew, flesh and skin and comes back to you fully filled in and richly detailed.

And when it happens there is nothing more useful. It was the New Zealand Maori's coconut wireless that discovered the movements, identities and current whereabouts of The Rainbow Warrior bombers, did you know, and how great is that!  Those dastardly French scumbags didn't know how we in the Pacific work and that was their downfall.  Kinda!

However, when you try to explain the coconut wireless to non-Pacific folk they always say "But that's just what gossip is!" and "Gossip works that way." which is such a misunderstanding. It isn't the same as gossip because gossip is coloured with judgment, slant and malice so invariably skews off away from fact and into sheer nastiness and stupidity, whereas the coconut wireless doesn't add judgment, emotion or slant; it always remains an emotion-free, bias-free tsunami thundering along at an astonishing pace just accumulating fact and evidence.

And that's the major difference: gossip is part of the forces of life-destroying harm and evil while the coconut wireless remains a life-enhancing force of goodness that most usually ends with word reaching exactly the right person who invariably says something like "Oh yes, the Ark of Covenant!  You'll find that at the back of Harry Charman's shed right next to the Holy Grail and the remains of Amelia Earhart!"

Throughout the Pacific, with the creeping loss of our oral culture, growing modernisation and sophistication, people are now noticing that our coconut wireless doesn't work so often anymore and are finally beginning to mourn the impending demise of something so unique and valuable ... but what this Hunt for Dame Mary is now demonstrating is that there's still life in this phenomenon because it's still there and, yes, that it's still working.

So we are most fortunate that the lost portrait has gone-coconut-wireless and thus on a journey that may end with us actually finding it.

So what are we already hearing back on the coconut wireless? Filler-talk mainly! Talk about her other paintings and those lucky folk whose parents were Dame Mary patrons and supporters during her 50 years in Fiji and who, over the years, put together serious collections of Dame Mary's work, and stories about other families who own a single cherished portrait of a family member. There's also word that this self-same Ratu Sukuna portrait is on a cover of a 1980s book about modern Fiji history, which means the image won't be lost even if the portrait is, and we're hearing back talk from folk who have seen other paintings by her in London and in other parts of England where they are kept in places of honour, considered great masterpieces.

There's also talk that the Australian High Commission has already had two Retrospectives of her Fiji work: one after she died in 1988, and a second in 2003 ...

Oh lordy!!! What an idiot I am!  I never thought to ask The Australian High Commission if they know where this Ratu Sukuna painting is.  In 1988, when they had the first Retrospective, it was pre-lost and so would have still, logically, been in the lobby of The Grand Pacific Hotel, (I actually saw it still there in June 1987!)  and so, as a major Dame Mary Fiji piece, it undoubtedly would have been in this exhibit. And so they'd know if it was included in the 2003 retrospective or if, by then, it was already lost!

But what is happening on the solidly-material front? Well, this afternoon Anne and Craig have an appointment with the head of Nasinu Cemetery in Suva, Fiji, on a mission to track down her grave, so by tonight we will know for sure whether or not she has a headstone, and if she doesn't, I will naturally be agitating and trouble-making and generally making appeals here, there and every other place I can think of, that we put this abomination square to rights.

Dame Mary Edwell-Burke in an unmarked grave!!!  OOOOHHHH! just the thought makes me so cross! However, I really should know that for sure before I whack on the warpaint and sharpen my swords and go All-Out-Xena on the world, shouldn't I!

Hey, here's a thought. Maybe, maybe, just maybe we could counter this dastardly Dame-Mary-Forgotten-By-History by somehow putting into play the idea of a major coffee table book of her works.  Oh, what a shame we don't know anyone at, say, Random House ... or that we don't know anyone who knows a great many people at Random House ... who can moot this suggestion in the right places!

"Oh, Robert!!!!"

What Kills Us This Week!

Everyone is talking about this guy.  It's really, really sad because he's so passionate and doing it everywhere and it's just so ... so ... so ...

No, check it out and supply your own adverb.

THIEF ALERT!!! AMC Cinema!

Twice so far this year - the first time on 1st Feb and second time, yesterday 8th Feb - I've had items stolen from my handbag while it's been under my seat at AMC Cinema at Pacific Place.

So far I've lost my lucky crystal pendent, my reading glasses and my sunglasses, which is a particular shame because they're the first pair of sunglasses I've ever owned that look fabulous with a beret. 

I'm so cross with my Chanel 2.5 bag, which is, as you know, open at the top, which means that when it's on the ground, pickpocket sneak-thieves can just reach in and help themselves.

But to have it happen TWICE in one week!  That can't just be a co-incidence, can it? And when I crossly informed the manager of AMC yesterday that their Pacific Place cinema appeared to be targeted by sneak-thieving pickpockets, he got most snitty and said "Go to the police then!!!" like it was my business alone to do something about it!

Anyway, this post is just a general alert that it appears this is going on right now so you MUST swop your Chanel 2.5 for something that locks if you're planning to put your bag under your chair at AMC Cinemas over this Chinese New Year holiday this year!

And to end on a happier note, both "Shaolin" and "The Green Hornet" were fabulous films that I highly recommend ... only if you go to see them you need to watch out for your belongings!

Note to Cardwell, NQ, Australia!

The very pretty little town of Cardwell was hit by a storm surge during last week's Cyclone Yasi.  The photos of the damage shocked us.  Since they're copyrighted, I'm afraid they won't download into here but you really should hunt them up for yourself.  Not only has the beach completely gone, so has the sea wall, the park and half the road.  Completely washed away!

However, because it looks so desperately grim, I went to Pui-O beach yesterday to photograph it so Cardwell can see and take consolation from it.

Four years ago (I expect Aussie Christine will send me a cross message saying "It was five years ago!" and I'll go with that), Pui-O was hit by a savage storm surge that completely took the entire beach and deposited it on Ham Tin Village. Not an inch of sand was left anyplace other than in people's houses and gardens.

Yet here is Pui-O Beach today:

And that's without any reconstruction work.  It took a couple of years but everything is now the way it used to be.

If you want another look, here's a view to the left:

And the view to the right:

Yeah, yeah, that's just an excuse for yet another gratuitous sunset shot!

Townsville's 18 metre tidal wave!!

This is glorious!  You may have heard on the international news that Cyclone Yasi had sent an 18 metre tidal wave straight towards the small North Queensland city of Townsville!

We got that story here in HK and in among all that horrible impending disaster news it was a moment of lightness.  If there's one natural disaster you know CAN'T happen in NQ is a giant tsunami!  It's not possible! And there's a big reason for that.  It's called The Great Barrier Reef!

Anyway, here in HK we get that news and know from the get-go that it's unmitigated crap and were cross that anyone could have made up such a huge and outright LIE!

However Fiji-David now writes and it's hilarious:

"On the night the radio reports said we had 18 mtr tidal waves 

off Townsville. An hour later they said to scrap that report, 

because the beacon that measures the waves had tipped over in 

the cyclone and was giving a reading of the ocean bottom. 

Thank #0*# they got that wrong."

LOVE? 

Lucky Buddha Beer

This is so hilarious, I must share:

Currently found at Hong Kong bars as a promotion for Chinese New Year is something called "Lucky Beer".

 A just-this-minute emptied bottle. 

Not a bad drop!

The bottle is just gorgeous.  Have a look in close-up:

 It's Smiling Buddha of Abundance.  Can you imagine anything more Chinese?  Buddha on a beer bottle?

However, turn it over and what do you see?

MADE IN AUSTRALIA!!!

Love?

Sik Sik Yeun Sin Temple "Fortune Stick" News!

You've all been hanging out for it, right? Did the Chinese Communist Party hijack the Sik Sik Yuen Sin Temple "Fortune Stick" Action this year?

All I can tell you is that it's a maybe!

As per usual, the PLUS 10,000 went in at midnight on Chinese New Year to watch Big Red Hat Sifu stick the Sacred Windmill on his head, and, along with the thousands of monks, "omm" his way into a holy trance and bless the fortune sticks ... before an "unnamed V.I.P." drew out Hong Kong's annual fortune stick ... and it was ...

Number 11 

"Unity and Stability for Hong Kong AFTER a fellow from the North descends to rule HK to the city's great advantage!" we are told.

Since Our Venerable Leader, Donald Tsang, has done his time and is about to be replaced, everyone immediately saw sinister moves afoot in all this - a way of CCP breaking the awful news that our next leader will NOT be either a local or even Cantonese -  so there was a great deal of collective eye-rolling and a winsy snitty "Tsk tsk! Beijing IS naughty!" before the population turned to people who actually DO know this stuff to ask what it really meant, who all said "Mmmm, with #11 fortune stick, that's a distinct possibility that's what it means." and "It isn't NOT the meaning!"

And those folks who DO know this fortune stick business all say that #11 relates immediately to an ancient, obscure and venerable poem "The Battle of Baideng" and that we all have to hunt up that poem and analyse it for stick's the true meaning!

Naturally, there's nothing HK likes better than in-depth analysis of hoo-ha - their favourite topic of conversation after food - so everyone is digging out their "The Battle of Baideng" and looking in it for clues for what is in store for 2011.

Of course and naturally, I do not have a copy of "The Battle of Baideng" immediately to hand, but from everything I've read, it's an account of the battle (circa 200BC) between the emerging Han Empire and marauding Xiongnu horsemen from the Mongolian steppes; a battle which is best remembered because the arrogant Han were too confident of their natural superiority and so were soundly and roundly defeated and entirely devastated (tee hee).

However, what this poem also talks about is that the Xiongnu weren't too interested in rule as such, so eventually released the Han Emperor after an enormous ransom was paid - which included marrying off his daughters to Xiongnu's own Warlords ... and so, in a move known to history as The Strategic Predicment, the Han were allowed to continue to rule in the devastated, decimated country AND ...

... because a lowly Han of enormous genius arose from the people, a fellow called Zhang Liang, to take over as First Minister, Strategist and Organiser, the country was gently lead back into harmony, wealth and prosperity.

So in there somewhere is the meaning of 2011's Year of the Rabbit's #11 fortune stick, and so it's giving everyone a great deal to talk about. Mostly however it's about The New Zhang Liang and how this Venerable Fellow MUST be found in order to become Hong Kong's next Chief Executive!

And since the original Zhang Liang was a Han, they're all saying that maybe this next one will be too and thus the Great 900 who get to vote on behalf of HK's 7 million population will have to look very fondly on whichever candidate Beijing sends to us for our ... perusal?

Of course, no one really went into those fortune sticks afterwards to check that they all weren't #11s, or that the "unnamed V.I.P." didn't have a handy #11 up his sleeve to pull out at the appropriate moment ... which would mean that this year's Sik Sik Yeun Sin Temple "Fortune Stick" action was indeed a cynical way of CCP breaking the awful news that our next leader will NOT be either a local or even Cantonese, and that the CCP THIS year is certainly a great deal cleverer than they were LAST year.

Mt Isa Fish!

Look at that: thanks to Cyclone Yasi, it's raining in Mt Isa.  So exciting, isn't it!

And if you don't think so too, that's because you don't know about Mt Isa fish. Since these critters are the strangest thing I have EVER come across, I'll tell you about them so you can be excited too.

Mt Isa, a town in the middle of the Australian Outback desert, was once - many millennium ago - in the middle of a great inland sea, and it's a testament to the fact that sea dried very slowly that the fish made the strangest adaption that has ever boggled my mind. 

You won't believe it but I'll tell you anyway: whenever it rains, which is usually only a couple of times a decade, within an hour every puddle has about a dozen of these little silver fingerlings and you think "Those are fish!! How on earth did they get in there?"  But the bizareness has barely started because, over the next five days, these puddles dry up but the fish are still there and you can actually watch as they grow into these monstrous creatures, some nearly as long as my forearm ...

... and if that's not too completely off-the-planet bizarre, the very minute they reach full size, the mad frantic rutting starts and it goes on and on and on for many hours. And this isn't in water because the water has long since dried away; this is right in the rust red dust.

Yup, right across the red dust desert, as far as the eye can see, there's a scrambling orgy of fish sex ... all flashing silver ... and then after mating there's an ocean of writhing flashing silver death throes ... and then you're stuck for days and days of everything reeking with the most brutal dead fish stench.

OK, I'm making it sound more dramatic than it actually is, but nonetheless, it is wondrous strange, I'm telling you, but all around you locals go "What are you fussing about?  Isn't this what fish usually do?" 

Ummm, NO!!!!

And if you're wondering about whether these fish make good eating, everyone laughs at the suggestion.  They are transparent, not unlike jellyfish, and it's obvious they don't have the time to make edible flesh so, despite their tempting size and the fact they're right there for the grabbing, there is no point thinking about them sizzling away in the frying pan.

So that's what happens with Mt Isa fish.  Amazing, huh!!!  It only happens very very rarely ...

 ... but it'll be happening right now.  

Can you visualise it?  If you can't, I'm counting on someone putting this up on youtube so you can see it with your own eyes. Even though it's days away, let me see if there's anything up there yet:

Nope, not really, just this:



Don't bother to watch it unless you have a high tolerance for teenage stupidity!  It's two very silly teenage boys - Jair Garret and William Wright - while babysitting little sister Crystal, reporting on Cyclone Yasi in Mt Isa!  Actually, they're rather charming in a "wouldn't-wish-them-on-my-worst-enemy's-classroom" sort of way.

And they clearly aren't all that bright because they haven't realised that what is beginning to happen all around them is something something truly newsworthy! I just want to shout at them "Start recording those fish, boys, start recording those fish!"

Anyway, I'll keep an eye out and if I find anyone HAS recorded those fish, I'll put it up here for you.

But I tell you, it's so amazing you HAVE to try to see it for yourself for real and with your own eyes one day!

Kung Hei Fat Choi!

Given the current situation, here's my Chinese New Year "Kung Hei Fat Choi" greeting for 2011 Year of the Rabbit: 

You will no doubt have noticed that "Good Fortune" is reversed.  That's deliberate.  This way it means "Reverse Bad Fortune to Make Way for Good Fortune" ... and somehow that made a lot more sense.

The Yasi Round-up!

It's now morning and I'm trying to find out what's happening with everybody in the path of Cyclone Yasi.

ABC news says there's no dead, which is great news and an immediate "Phheww!", but I'm am now phoning and e-mailing around for updates from family, friends and loved ones.

So far I've just heard from Baby Jane. She is fine, although I haven't any more news than a quickly dashed off e-mail at first light saying she's alive and not traumatised although "the cyclone's roar shudders at your core." and is yet to see how her house fared.   As you know, she spent the night at The Old Folks Home, in the mattress-filled chapel with all the sweet old folk while Peter and two German WOOFERS defended her house for her.  The poor honey didn't know where to be while Innisfail faced down "the worst cyclone ever to hit our coast." and, in the end, decided that The Captain Goes Down With The Ship and so chose to be at work!

Hopefully I'll get an e-mail from her soon filling in all the details.

As for her kiddies?  Well, now that they're both driving and both have cars, they went ALL-RAT on her!  Naturally, Ella gleefully RATTED and was out of there the minute she heard what was heading their way.  Talei however had to be gently cajoled into RATTERY because she's not someone who finds it easy to betray anyone, let alone in a crisis.

Both kiddies went down to Townsville, which was still in the path, but much less likely to get a direct hit, so I got lots of texts from Ella last night saying "Your house is sooo destroyed!" which, because it was Ella, I didn't take seriously but which did mean, because I couldn't be sure, I was unnecessarily concerned about our place back in Australia.

Still don't know how our house fared. I've just now got one reply to my messages saying it was still standing and appeared to have no structural damage, but that I had a great many trees uprooted and even more at a dangerous slant.

Mmmm, that will make Keith very happy.  He hates my trees and this will be a true joy for him to order them to be axed into pieces and hauled out of there.  He doesn't seem to be aware that those trees laid down their lives to protect our house and that he should stop being so creepy about their demise!

Apart from that, it seems there is still a storm surge in progress in Townsville, although not the 7 metres in height predicted, so I can't yet know how it's all turned out. Fingers crossed it didn't go under!  I love my furniture and really don't want to toss it out because of flood damage ...

... I've justnow written to Big Brother, back from Japan, asking him to use his google earth program to find out how we're coping!  Haven't heard back yet!  Fingers crossed!

As for everyone else, news is coming in: Julie C. says her kids phoned and they're fine.  Alex and Rick W. had a very rough night listening to the very pretty park opposite their house being devastated - and woke to see the entire place flattened without a single tree left standing - but who didn't go under.  Lyn in Cairns said she's fine but very tired because it was a terrible night.  Everyone else, I have yet to hear from.

Hey, guys, LET US KNOW.  We're worried!

What Kills Us This Week!

Chinese are saying that The Great Duke of Jupiter, the very mean god Tai Sui, will arrive at midnight tonight for a year-long reign of terror where "No woe is the only blessing."

And with  midnight being the projected E.T.A. of Cyclone Yasi - "Bigger than Tracey and More Deadly than Larry!" -  and with so many friends and family members in North Queensland, and including my own house, currently staring down the barrel of this gun ...

... and the previous arrival of Tai Sui co-inciding with the bombing of Pearl Harbour, Tarawa and Hong Kong (undoubtedly deliberate) ...
 
... this week I'M NOT LAUGHING!!!

However, the way to go to spare ourselves any horror, so we're being told, is to greet midnight wearing RED!!!  This is a message to Tai Sui to spare you!  The other way, so we're also being told, is to go to your local Tai Sui Temple, write your own name and d.o.b. plus the names and d.o.b.s of your loved ones on different pieces of paper, put them in a red bag, light incense, talk to Tai Sui asking him to spare you and yours and then you burn the bits of paper so he knows who to spare.

If you too have loved ones in North Queensland and want to know what's happening, here's the link:

CYCLONE YASI

So there we are, in the taxi today, going down to the R.H.K.Y.C. for lunch, and I'm reading this out of the Communist Party newspaper and I say to the others, who are all laughing at the absurdity, "Where would you even find a Tai Sui Temple?" and the taxi driver snaps at us ... but in his barrage of angry words all I caught was that the temple in question was the one in Hollywood Road ...

... which is in Central just off The Soho Escalators and thus very easy to find ...

... so now I have to make a choice ...

... do I greet Chinese New Year down at the Harbour watching the fireworks with all the sane-ish people (and given the millions who've poured down from China for the occasion surely choosing to be trapped among them at the waterfront would hardly count as completely sane) or should midnight find me in Hollywood Road in the Tai Sui Temple burning the names and d.o.b.s of everyone I know who will be there in North Queensland, all battened down and expecting the imminent arrival of "Bigger than Tracey and More Deadly than Larry!" Cyclone Yasi?

So that will have to be my choice for this week:

THREATDOWN

Being in Hong Kong so long,

you start to take it all far too seriously!