It is alleged that the fastest selling nostalagia album in Australia in the last 12 months has been :
"Captain Bombastic and the Brown Shirt Cowboys".
Also picked up recently:
"What a silly, boring little man. His only function is to let you know what Harry Potter's going to look like when he's old."
British comedian Billy Connolly on Prime Minister John Howard.
23.2.06
15.2.06
Pink Elephants And Needles Of Ice
Things certainly are cold here and getting colder all the time. Yesterday the wind was howling and driving blankets of wet snow along with it. Horizontal blizzard. I looked up as I got off the tram and my face was smattered with big wet flakes of snow that instantly melted and ran down my front. With a 40 kmh wind in your face it then becomes absolutely freeeeezing!!
As for Moscow, wow are they suffering the wildest extremes ever. We have a saying here, " Kannst du den Wodka von Ostwind her riechen?" or "Can you smell the vodka on the wind from the east?" When the wind blows hard out of the East from Russia, the temperatures here absolutely plummet like a stone a few days later.
It was -26 celsius in Moscow yesterday and 2 weeks ago it was down to -37 celsius. Out at the oil fields in Siberia it went down to -63 celsius. People in Moscow were being rushed to hospital with frozen eyeballs. Now that's what I call a very cold stare. They are enduring some of the coldest weather since 1927 and the death toll is steadily mounting.
A Russian circus resorted to giant vodka cocktails in an attempt to protect performing elephants from extreme cold. One of the animals got so drunk it nearly destroyed the circus. The clear liquor was added to the animals’ water buckets as they began to feel the chill of temperatures as low as minus 30 degrees Celsius. The elephant trainer was quoted as saying, "“Yesterday we gave one of the elephants a bucket and the circus lost its heater — the elephant just tore it off.” Zookeepers are taking a similar approach in the town of Lipetsk, south of Moscow, keeping macaque monkeys warm with sweet wine which is dispensed to them three times per day. I have heard of pink gins so maybe this is where pink elephants come from. He he he.
Last week we had 2 days of blanketing fog in Darmstadt. A real pea souper.
When I first awoke in the morning I thought it had snowed over night but as my eyes slowly peeled back with the dawn light I realised that it was not really snow white but more a very pale shade of grey. I though I was seeing things and after some eye rubbing I went out the back door and realised that everything was needled in ice which was allowing the colours from underneath to taint the colour of the ice.
The droplets of moisture in the fog froze to everything and produced these needle fine crystals, like cactus spines, in clumps along every outdoor surface. It was bizarrely pretty. The trees, the grass, the fences and even the cars which looked liked hedgehogs, were coated in it.
My friend Lynne took this picture on the same morning where she lives across town.
It really was just so beautiful and other worldly. I have never seen the likes of it before. A new highlight of life in a very cold Germany.
As for Moscow, wow are they suffering the wildest extremes ever. We have a saying here, " Kannst du den Wodka von Ostwind her riechen?" or "Can you smell the vodka on the wind from the east?" When the wind blows hard out of the East from Russia, the temperatures here absolutely plummet like a stone a few days later.
It was -26 celsius in Moscow yesterday and 2 weeks ago it was down to -37 celsius. Out at the oil fields in Siberia it went down to -63 celsius. People in Moscow were being rushed to hospital with frozen eyeballs. Now that's what I call a very cold stare. They are enduring some of the coldest weather since 1927 and the death toll is steadily mounting.
A Russian circus resorted to giant vodka cocktails in an attempt to protect performing elephants from extreme cold. One of the animals got so drunk it nearly destroyed the circus. The clear liquor was added to the animals’ water buckets as they began to feel the chill of temperatures as low as minus 30 degrees Celsius. The elephant trainer was quoted as saying, "“Yesterday we gave one of the elephants a bucket and the circus lost its heater — the elephant just tore it off.” Zookeepers are taking a similar approach in the town of Lipetsk, south of Moscow, keeping macaque monkeys warm with sweet wine which is dispensed to them three times per day. I have heard of pink gins so maybe this is where pink elephants come from. He he he.
Last week we had 2 days of blanketing fog in Darmstadt. A real pea souper.
When I first awoke in the morning I thought it had snowed over night but as my eyes slowly peeled back with the dawn light I realised that it was not really snow white but more a very pale shade of grey. I though I was seeing things and after some eye rubbing I went out the back door and realised that everything was needled in ice which was allowing the colours from underneath to taint the colour of the ice.
The droplets of moisture in the fog froze to everything and produced these needle fine crystals, like cactus spines, in clumps along every outdoor surface. It was bizarrely pretty. The trees, the grass, the fences and even the cars which looked liked hedgehogs, were coated in it.
My friend Lynne took this picture on the same morning where she lives across town.
It really was just so beautiful and other worldly. I have never seen the likes of it before. A new highlight of life in a very cold Germany.
10.2.06
What's In A Name?
I came across this map the other day highlighting some of Germanies more unusual town and city names. Every single marked town on this map translates into something bizarre. I include here some of the basic translations and I will let you be the judge. Nothing is sacred. He he he! I do love Germany and its people but where do they get these names from? Mein Gott! I will find out. I feel I must travel to these enclaves of deepest and darkest Germanic heritage in search of the truth. Possibly when visiting Kuhbier we can chew the fat with the locals and eventually end up back in Wixhausen for prolonged mastication of the facts.
Here are those names........
Kotzen - Vomit
Pissen - Urinate
Gammelshausen- Hippie Houses
Wixhausen - Wankers Houses
Fickmühlen - F**k Mills
Blödesheim - Stupid-ville
Affendorf - Village of Apes
Venusberg- Mount of Venus
Tuntenhausen - Transvestite - ville
Böß Gesäß - Bad Ass
Fickingen - F**king
Kuhbier - Cow beer
Bussenberg - Breast Mountain
Faulebutter- Rancid Butter
Drogen - Drugs
Oberkotzen - Vomit over
Mückenloch - Dirty Hole
8.2.06
What Goes Up Must Come Down.
An interesting question that I came across the other day.
“ We often see images of crowds of people firing hundreds of rounds of bullets into the air in celebration. What happens to those bullets? Surely they cannot keep heading into space forever? When gravity finally takes over, why aren’t they falling and killing the people that fired them?”
A great answer by Dr Karl S. Kruszelnicki.
“I’ve never been in such a crowd, but I would guess that most of these revellers think their bullets can’t hurt them. They’d be wrong.
The first thing to realise is that what goes up must come down – albeit, in the case of a bullet, more slowly. A bullet is fired with a typical muzzle velocity of about 3,000 kmh. Once gases stop pushing it, and it has well and truly left the barrel of the gun, it begins to slow. When it is fired upwards, two forces are acting to slow it – the resistance of the air and the downward suck of gravity. Typically a bullet takes about 30 seconds to climb to a height of around three kilometres. Eventually it will come to a dead halt, then begin its descent.
The suck of gravity is not nearly as powerful as the explosive gases that first fired the bullet from the barrel, so the plummeting projectile will only accelerate to a speed of somewhere between 330and 770 kmh – depending on the weight and the shape of the bullet.
A speed of 770kmh may be much slower than 3000kmh, but it is still more than enough for a bullet to penetrate a human skull (you need only 220kmh to do that). Most people who have been hit by bullets falling from the sky are struck on their upper back, the top of their head or their shoulders.
After the end of the Gulf War, Kuwaitis celebrated by firing weapons into the air and 20 died from falling bullets.
In Los Angeles between 1985 and 1992, doctors at the King/Drew Medical Centre treated 118 people for random falling-bullet injuries. Thirty eight died. Practically all of the injuries were caused by holiday-wekend party-goers discharging weapons.
Unfortunately, there have been instances in Australia where bullets have been fired into the air during celebrations. A few years back, a nine year old girl (in Belfield, Sydney) was watching New Year’s Eve fireworks with her parents in their driveway. At 12.05am, January 1st, 2002, a bullet fell out of the sky and lodged in her upper arm. If she had been standing a few centimetres to one side, she could have been killed.”
“ We often see images of crowds of people firing hundreds of rounds of bullets into the air in celebration. What happens to those bullets? Surely they cannot keep heading into space forever? When gravity finally takes over, why aren’t they falling and killing the people that fired them?”
A great answer by Dr Karl S. Kruszelnicki.
“I’ve never been in such a crowd, but I would guess that most of these revellers think their bullets can’t hurt them. They’d be wrong.
The first thing to realise is that what goes up must come down – albeit, in the case of a bullet, more slowly. A bullet is fired with a typical muzzle velocity of about 3,000 kmh. Once gases stop pushing it, and it has well and truly left the barrel of the gun, it begins to slow. When it is fired upwards, two forces are acting to slow it – the resistance of the air and the downward suck of gravity. Typically a bullet takes about 30 seconds to climb to a height of around three kilometres. Eventually it will come to a dead halt, then begin its descent.
The suck of gravity is not nearly as powerful as the explosive gases that first fired the bullet from the barrel, so the plummeting projectile will only accelerate to a speed of somewhere between 330and 770 kmh – depending on the weight and the shape of the bullet.
A speed of 770kmh may be much slower than 3000kmh, but it is still more than enough for a bullet to penetrate a human skull (you need only 220kmh to do that). Most people who have been hit by bullets falling from the sky are struck on their upper back, the top of their head or their shoulders.
After the end of the Gulf War, Kuwaitis celebrated by firing weapons into the air and 20 died from falling bullets.
In Los Angeles between 1985 and 1992, doctors at the King/Drew Medical Centre treated 118 people for random falling-bullet injuries. Thirty eight died. Practically all of the injuries were caused by holiday-wekend party-goers discharging weapons.
Unfortunately, there have been instances in Australia where bullets have been fired into the air during celebrations. A few years back, a nine year old girl (in Belfield, Sydney) was watching New Year’s Eve fireworks with her parents in their driveway. At 12.05am, January 1st, 2002, a bullet fell out of the sky and lodged in her upper arm. If she had been standing a few centimetres to one side, she could have been killed.”
3.2.06
Things That Go Bump In The Night.
I realise this has nothing what so ever to do Europe and my time here but I was recounting it to another person and I thought I should share it. The things we dooooooo!
We had a young Scottish guy who was working with us on a minerals exploration drilling program up in the far north of Australia on the Gulf of Carpentaria. We were camping out in an abandonded homestead about 300km north of the nearest town. Coming from central Scotland, Donald firmly believed in ghosties and ghouls and all things that go bump in the night.
A couple of us got together before Donald arrived at the camp and made a cassette tape with about 15 min of silence at the start and then we had people clanking lengths of chain, murmuring and laughing in deep spooky voices. This would go for about 20 seconds and then there would be a pause of about a minute or so before starting up again and so forth for about a total of 10 minutes.
On the night of his arrival, as we sat around the camp fire, we all told him tales of a group of murdered stockmen that were ambushed by aboriginies over 100 years before in the dry river bed below the homestead. Having sufficiently spooked him, we declared it a night, turned off the portable diesel generator that was running the lights and crawled into our swags / sleeping bags.
Behind the rusty old water tank about 30 meters away, we had placed the cassette player running on batteries and turned it on. Everyone said good night to each other and pretended to be fast asleep within minutes.
About 15 minutes later it began and Donald sat straight up and yelled, "Fook did you hear that???" We took it in turns in the dark to respond to him telling him to shut up and go to sleep and that there were no sounds and that he was dreaming. Of course we were all lying there quaking in stifled laughter as Donald rapidly progressed towards complete nervous hysteria. After about the 4th round of ghostly noises he bolted out of bed, ran outside and started up the portable generator, flooding the camp in lights. He stood with his back to the dying embers of the camp fire and a long handled shovel braced across his chest, staring wildly into the night.
We left him standing there to enjoy the sounds of a blissfully quiet evening in the bush whilst we all turned over and went to sleep.
Even to this day he has never been told the truth. I mean to say what are mates for.
We had a young Scottish guy who was working with us on a minerals exploration drilling program up in the far north of Australia on the Gulf of Carpentaria. We were camping out in an abandonded homestead about 300km north of the nearest town. Coming from central Scotland, Donald firmly believed in ghosties and ghouls and all things that go bump in the night.
A couple of us got together before Donald arrived at the camp and made a cassette tape with about 15 min of silence at the start and then we had people clanking lengths of chain, murmuring and laughing in deep spooky voices. This would go for about 20 seconds and then there would be a pause of about a minute or so before starting up again and so forth for about a total of 10 minutes.
On the night of his arrival, as we sat around the camp fire, we all told him tales of a group of murdered stockmen that were ambushed by aboriginies over 100 years before in the dry river bed below the homestead. Having sufficiently spooked him, we declared it a night, turned off the portable diesel generator that was running the lights and crawled into our swags / sleeping bags.
Behind the rusty old water tank about 30 meters away, we had placed the cassette player running on batteries and turned it on. Everyone said good night to each other and pretended to be fast asleep within minutes.
About 15 minutes later it began and Donald sat straight up and yelled, "Fook did you hear that???" We took it in turns in the dark to respond to him telling him to shut up and go to sleep and that there were no sounds and that he was dreaming. Of course we were all lying there quaking in stifled laughter as Donald rapidly progressed towards complete nervous hysteria. After about the 4th round of ghostly noises he bolted out of bed, ran outside and started up the portable generator, flooding the camp in lights. He stood with his back to the dying embers of the camp fire and a long handled shovel braced across his chest, staring wildly into the night.
We left him standing there to enjoy the sounds of a blissfully quiet evening in the bush whilst we all turned over and went to sleep.
Even to this day he has never been told the truth. I mean to say what are mates for.
2.2.06
Awwww You've Surrendered !!!
My brother and his family recently travelled to South Africa and regaled me with this story.
Whilst in Nairobi they visited a rather unique open air meat speciality restaurant aptly named, “Carnivore”, which serves a host of various animals grilled to perfection and is widely regarded as one of 'Africa's Greatest Eating Experiences'.
After being seated by a large African waiter they were given an array of bowls with various dipping sauces and a small pennant flag on a stand which read “Carnivore”. When they enquired into the reason for the flag they were told in his booming barritone, “ Dis is your flag, when it is up we will keep coming with the food and when it is lying over it means you have surrendered but I hope you do not surrender!”
Skewered upon converted masai spears over a centrally located char grill were a host of meats including lamb, pork, venison, rump and sirloin beef, lamb, spare ribs, chicken wings, sausages and local specialities including zebra, ostrich, crocodile, giraffe, impala and hartebeest.
The waiting chefs appeared table side and proceeded to carve meat direct from the skewers onto the cast iron plates on the table. Everytime the plates were even beginning to show signs of depletion the servers would reappear and slice another plate full of whatever you desired.
Plate upon plate arrived and hence it was not overly long before my brother and family were slowly turning green at the gills and despite the urge to sample as much as possible of the offered fare, the sheer physics of abdominal expansion eventually won out.
My brother laid the flag on it its side and out of nowhere the large African waiter appeared once more and said with a look of disappointment, “Awwww you have surrendered, what a shame!”. The guy obviously had a wild sense of humour although I think the diners were to full to laugh themselves without risking an unwanted physical reaction.
There is a vegetarian menu available with salads and vegetable side dishes but it goes without saying that you would probably find the ambience upsetting on moral grounds if you were a vegetarian.
If you are headed to Nairobi then all I can say is, “Bon apetit!”
Whilst in Nairobi they visited a rather unique open air meat speciality restaurant aptly named, “Carnivore”, which serves a host of various animals grilled to perfection and is widely regarded as one of 'Africa's Greatest Eating Experiences'.
After being seated by a large African waiter they were given an array of bowls with various dipping sauces and a small pennant flag on a stand which read “Carnivore”. When they enquired into the reason for the flag they were told in his booming barritone, “ Dis is your flag, when it is up we will keep coming with the food and when it is lying over it means you have surrendered but I hope you do not surrender!”
Skewered upon converted masai spears over a centrally located char grill were a host of meats including lamb, pork, venison, rump and sirloin beef, lamb, spare ribs, chicken wings, sausages and local specialities including zebra, ostrich, crocodile, giraffe, impala and hartebeest.
The waiting chefs appeared table side and proceeded to carve meat direct from the skewers onto the cast iron plates on the table. Everytime the plates were even beginning to show signs of depletion the servers would reappear and slice another plate full of whatever you desired.
Plate upon plate arrived and hence it was not overly long before my brother and family were slowly turning green at the gills and despite the urge to sample as much as possible of the offered fare, the sheer physics of abdominal expansion eventually won out.
My brother laid the flag on it its side and out of nowhere the large African waiter appeared once more and said with a look of disappointment, “Awwww you have surrendered, what a shame!”. The guy obviously had a wild sense of humour although I think the diners were to full to laugh themselves without risking an unwanted physical reaction.
There is a vegetarian menu available with salads and vegetable side dishes but it goes without saying that you would probably find the ambience upsetting on moral grounds if you were a vegetarian.
If you are headed to Nairobi then all I can say is, “Bon apetit!”