Two out of three ain't bad

It was easy enough to catch up with my mates GH and AP as they live only a few blocks apart in the CBD and are always looking for stuff to do.

On Wednesday, after seeing "Eragon", the three of us visited another old friend, AG, his partner A. and baby girl B. (and menagerie of dogs, rabbits and fish) at their new house in Merewether. Readers who know AG may not know he's on the verge of entering the police force.

Yesterday, GH, AP and I took a trip to that most relaxing of places, the farmhouse of PG and DG, to talk fanboy stuff, eat and play games. There was no time for any multiplayer Xboxing as our HeroClix battle royale was still going when it was time to skedaddle for the bus. I was declared the probable winner, thanks to the ranged-combat expertise of Klaw, the perfect rooftop sniper :-)

Today, the untouchable trio was supposed to trek out to Charlestown to see JH and his partner S. Unfortunately for us, but fortunately for him, J. has scored a week's fill-in work with a government department that he'd like to be employed by on a permanent basis. A big, black boot in the door?

Instead, I stayed home and caught up on some reading. I've devoured everything Jay McInerney has written (even his wine guide "Bacchus & Me") and "The Good Life" reminded me why. It's a complex portrait of two New York marriages altered and reconsidered in the aftermath of 9/11. There's more to it than that, though. The characters have rich backgrounds and McInerney slips in much trivia relating to the clean-up effort that I hadn't heard before.

I'm now sailing into Tim Powers' historical fantasy "On Stranger Tides" (pirates! voodoo! puppetry!). Also hope to break the paperback of the new Le Carre ("The Mission Song") before this holiday ends.

Dead good

Merry Chrimbo to all!

Hope you're enjoying lashings of food (and ginger beer) in the company of family.

Most of my December 25 was spent watching season one of the HBO series "Deadwood" with Dad and my bro'-in-law VK. We managed to get through six eps between lunch and dinner, then another 4.5 before eyelids began to droop.

Needless to say, it's an addictive show. As long as you can handle the constant swearing and extreme violence (used only where it adds to the story), it has a dirty realism and a depth unmatched by any other western I've seen.

The secret diary of Addster's mole, aged ?

I'm at my parents' place in Newcastle for a week.

Before I left Sydney, I went for my seasonal snip: a "number four" shave all over, including my beard and mo'.

Part way through the operation, my barber nicked a mole on my neck. I felt a sting, but didn't think anything of it until I heard him say, quietly, "God help us."

I then watched the normally unflappable fellow struggle to staunch the blood flow using a combination of cotton wool with disinfectant and a hairdryer.

Looking in the mirror, I saw the next bloke in line for a haircut put his head in his hands. I don't think he was laughing.

My barber was extremely apologetic, but also urged me to get the mole removed in the new year. He'd had six cut out with only minimal pain.

I wasn't too worried until I got home and checked the mole in the mirror. It looked awful; kinda hanging off, black with dried blood and sporting wisps of cotton wool.

The weird thing is, one shower later it was back to normal. I guess it can stay a little longer.

Attack of the Ladyboys!

After our last-day-of-the-working-year lunch - a Chinese banquet at BBQ King at the company's expense - the plan had been to adjourn to the bohemian decay of the Hollywood Hotel, there to enjoy a drink known as a Ladyboy.

As it happened, there was a switch and a hitch. We ended up at a pub called the Civic, which is closer, though prone to yuppie infestation. And due to my currently being on medication, I was unable to indulge in said bevvy and could only provide immoral support for DL, CM and SC.

The Ladyboy is the invention of TV personality Alan Partridge (who in turn is the invention of British comedian Steve Coogan). It was created when, in an attempt to bond with a couple of blokey blokes in a bar, Alan came up with what he hoped was an impressive drink.

It consists of: a pint of beer, a gin'n'tonic and a small glass of Baileys Irish Cream. The trick is that you can't down them one at a time - you have to sip the beer, then the Baileys, then the g'n't. Then repeat.

From the facial expressions I witnessed and the comments uttered by my three colleagues, it's a vile combination. The lads found the Baileys ran out long before the other two brews, but CM and SC kept things nice and silly by pouring their remaining g'n't into their beers.

Unlike Mr Partridge, all three survived their Ladyboys without falling asleep on the bar or wandering into the kitchen to be sick. Well, they hadn't when I left.

"Union" rep

"Union" was the first Yes album I ever bought, back when I'd just crossed the border into the fantastic land of prog rock, and it remains my fave - a joyous journey of unexpected twists that never loses its ability to uplift.

"Union" was almost spoiled for me, though. I gave my copy to a girl I went out with a few times. I realised she didn't appreciate it (indie chick), but there are no take-backs with gifts. And pride wouldn't let me buy a replacement.

"Union" was an embarrassment, regret and hole in my collection until I recounted my pathetic tale to my friend PG, who produced a new copy on our next meeting. Now it's back where it oughta be - in my CD player, on repeat!

AA Gill is...problematic

Most of me wants to rave about the collection of travel writing "AA Gill Is Away". The British columnist/critic roams everywhere from the Kalahari (he sacrifices a goat and angers the gods) to the undead city of Kaliningrad. He writes with equal parts insight and irreverence. His so-wrong-they-work metaphors are of Martin Amis standard - describing Patagonia: "The beauty never lets up, it's like ocular tinnitus, a repetitive deafening of the eye." AA doesn't skimp on the cultural backstory or statistical realities, either. He even buddies up with "Top Gear"'s Jeremy Clarkson for comedy road trips (one of which leads to him judging Miss Iceland). The problem is that when he gets a place wrong - as in the case of Japan, which he loathes in its entirety - he can leave you royally miffed. Buy the book and skip that chapter. And maybe those on Milan Fashion Week...and Germany...and the Royal Agricultural Show...

Neversummer days

According to the weather forecast, it'll be 21 (celsius) and raining in Sydney tomorrow, ie. much the same as it was today.

It seems absurd that more than halfway through the first month of summer there've only been two genuinely hot days (around 30).

Any wonder every second person has a sniffle or a bark - and every first person (myself included) is hoping not to catch it.

Construction time again

Sporadically, I feel the need to craft something. I've never been good with my hands (no sniggering at the back) and like to watch telly at the same time, so it can't be anything too difficult. Past examples - painting/decorating a squad of Space Marines for "Warhammer 40K", making a LEGO model of the Red Baron's triplane, assembling fleets of little plastic sailing ships for the "Pirates" constructible strategy game (which I don't play, but they look great on a shelf).

This weekend, in between watching the cricket, reading the Saturday papers, solving the non-cryptic crosswords and cooking (if my efforts in the kitchen can be called that), I've been working on a "Dungeons & Dragons" accessory called "Map Folio 3-D". Despite the sucky name, it's a cool product (released in 2004 for about $20, if memory serves and volleys) that lets you build cardboard replicas of a medieval city wall, outbuilding, tower, cottage, smithy and tavern.

Given that it's Sunday arvo and I'm only on the second building, I don't see this village being open for inspection until early 2007.

Movie review: "Bobby"

This film is a tribute to Senator Robert F. Kennedy, who was assassinated by a madman on June 5, 1968, just when he looked set to win the presidency and reform America for the better. It took Emilio Estevez seven years to make, but he got it right.

Rather than attempting to recreate history, "Bobby" places 22 fictional characters in LA’s Ambassador Hotel on the night of the shooting and shows how it affects their lives. The casting is beyond impressive, with the actors working not for big bucks but because they believe.

Lindsay Lohan is a teenager marrying a boy she hardly knows (Elijah Wood), against her family’s wishes, so the army will send him to Germany not Vietnam. Styling her up for the wedding’s Sharon Stone, in an Oscar-worthy turn as a motherly, mistreated beautician.

Her hubby William H. Macy is the hotel manager, whose tough standards don’t apply to his own affair with switchboard girl Heather Graham. Then there’s the doorman too devoted to retire (Anthony Hopkins), the alcoholic lounge singer (Demi Moore), the hippie drug dealer (Ashton Kutcher), the philosophical chef (Laurence Fishburne)...

No-one portrays RFK – he appears only in news footage. Whether this was done out of respect or the belief he should be allowed to speak for himself, it works. His passionate pleas for social equality and an end to poverty and war live on.

[Australian cinema release date: February 22, 2007]

Shield of protection from fire

On May 1 this year, it became compulsory for every building in NSW _in which people sleep_ to have a smoke alarm. As of November 1, anyone not in compliance was liable for a fine of up to $550.

My smoke alarm was installed yesterday. Exactly the sort of service I've come to expect from my real estate agency, whose motto seems to be, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it. And if it is broke, we don't wanna know."

No offence to the tradesman they sent round. He was a lovely old bloke who cheerfully embedded the device in the ceiling and wired it up in under an hour.

Now, when I walk from by bedroom to the bathroom at night, I look up at the little green light and feel a new sense of safety. I just hope it doesn't start beeping the next time I sizzle sausages.

Finally finished!

Testing the theme decks from Magic: The Gathering's Time Spiral expansion took longer than I expected.

The set's a mixture of completely new cards, new cards utilising old concepts and some classics I never wishfully thought would be reprinted (Psionic Blast, anyone?).

The decks are:
* "Fun With Fungus" - black and green spells aimed at cultivating an army of saprolings that can be sacrificed for all sorts of benefits or simply used to overrun the opponent.
* "Hope's Crusaders" - white spells only. A core of knights possessing the flanking ability from Mirage, aided by fliers, instant "flash" blockers, healing and cards that tap your enemies.
* "Reality Fracture" - blue and red spells that can be either (a) cast cheaply with delayed results ("suspend"), (b) returned to your hand for reuse ("buyback" from Tempest) or (c) duplicated for every spell that's previously taken effect in the turn ("storm" from Scourge).
* "Sliver Evolution" - green, red and white spells. Slivers are also from Tempest. While in play, they pass on their abilities to other creatures of the same type, thus becoming exponentially powerful in groups.

The results were:
1st - "Fun With Fungus" (3 match wins, 10 game wins)
2nd - "Sliver Evolution" (2 matches, 8 games)
3rd - "Hope's Crusaders" (1 match, 6 games)
4th - "Reality Fracture" (0 matches, 6 games)

I don't have to tell you "F/W/F" is the strongest deck. All it has to do is survive the early game and it generally has superior numbers - if not total board control.

"R/F" was kinda unlucky to finish last as, given the right draw, it can generate some amazing 20-to-0 kills. This doesn't happen often enough, though.

Helping keep me entertained while I staged these 30 battles - many of them protracted - were the album "Rise" by Irish rockers The Answer (thanks, LA) and some bootlegs of English comedian Daniel Kitson (cheers, PG).

Movie review: "Babel"

Two Moroccan boys, whose family’s survival depends on the herd of goats they tend, are given a rifle and told to kill any jackals they see.

An American couple (played by Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett) choose that same country as a holiday destination, in an attempt to mend their marriage...and suffer a freak accident near a village where there’s no hospital and the only doctor’s a vet.

A Mexican nanny working in San Diego, unable to get the day off to attend her son’s wedding, decides to go anyway, taking her two young charges with her across the border.

In Japan, a deaf-mute teenage girl struggles to express her sexuality. She continually throws herself at the wrong men, only to be rejected and grow increasingly desperate.

Some of the connections between these groups are obvious; others are revealed in the course of the film. But, just like the characters, we never get the full story.

As the name suggests, "Babel" is about lack of understanding – due to language barriers, cultural differences, prejudice and fear. It’s long and harrowing, but it needs to be for us to identify with those to whom no-one will listen.

[Australian cinema release date: December 26]

And I ran, I ran so far away

Our first attempt at the 3.5 edition D&D module "Scourge Of The Howling Horde" (DMed with fairness but no rolls fudged by TC) didn't end well...

After maybe five hours of real time (I never glanced at my watch), the Dwarven mage Sifaka (SC) sprinted from the dungeon entrance, fleeing for his life back to the town of Barrow's Edge.

Not far behind him, hitching up his brown robe, came the Human cleric Brother Brian (yours truly), who'd only just managed to evade his monstrous pursuers.

Deep inside the complex, the Human paladin Lotty (LC) and Dwarven warrior Rexar (LPO) lay dead on a cold stone floor, surrounded by four hobgoblins - two warriors and, attracted by a frickin' shrieker mushroom, what we guessed to be a shaman and a chieftain.

Rest assured, there'll be another assault on the horde as soon as Sifaka and BB can recruit two new comrades...and we five gamers have an arvo or evening free.

The sport of Kings

At the end of last basketball season, the NBL chucked out my team, the Hunter Pirates, for being too poor, playing too poorly, or both. This season, they admitted two new franchises - the South Melbourne Dragons and the Singapore Slingers.

When I learnt a number of staff and players from the Pirates were involved in the latter, I thought about switching my allegiance to them. But, realistically, the chances of me making a home game were nil - dreams of sipping a Singapore Sling in the Long Bar at Raffles Hotel notwithstanding.

I opted instead to become a Sydney Kings supporter. Some might say I should have done so long ago, on account of having lived in this city almost eight years, attending their games whenever I'm in need of a b-ball fix.

All I can say is: Newcastle blood runs deep :-)

But the decision had been made, and on Friday night I rocked up to the Entertainment Centre to watch my new team take on the Adelaide 36ers (the South Oz capital was settled in 1836). While the outcome was disappointing, the game was closer than Siamese twins in a sleeping bag.

At the end of the first quarter, we were down 17-19.
Half-time: 44-43.
Third quarter: 70-64.
Full-time: 97-99.

Our number of fouls really caught up with us in the final quarter, but it was also one of those occasions when players missed two-pointers, panicked and went for three-pointers which they shouldn't have.

Still, the Kings fought hard till the buzzer and made up for things tonight with a 93-90 away win over the Razorbacks, which sounds like it was another exciting game.

They always are when you've got a side to care about.

Annual-us horribilis

"Doctor Who The Official Annual 2007" isn't worth wasting your time on...unless you're eight years old.

Let me explain.

Originally, these books contained prose and comic strips of varying quality, and a smattering of science fact. For all their faults (including many ghastly illos and layouts), they allowed us, over the course of several sittings, to join our favourite hero on non-televised adventures.

I believe they began in 1964 and continued until 1986.

Thanks to the success of the new series, the tradition was revived late last year with a tome titled "Doctor Who Annual 2006". It had plenty of fiction - and surprising hints at future possibilities.

"Doctor Who The Official Annual 2007" doesn't.

Apart from two crappy comics and some unenlightening character summaries, it's composed of generic puzzles and children's party games.

At eight, I would have thought this awesome - solving all the brain teasers (cheating where necessary), undertaking every activity and re-reading until the corners were worn through to the grey cardboard beneath.

As an adult, it provided only a 20-minute skim before being consigned to one of the storage boxes under my bed.

I'm all for nurturing new fans, but it seems almost cruel to have had "Doctor Who" annuals as I knew them brought back briefly...then reduced to this.

Coming clean

I don't often mention my work interviews on this blog as most of them are with amateur models and even the "big names" would only be familiar to avid followers of tabloids or lads' magazines. Occasionally, though, I get to talk to someone a tad more mainstream.

Like today, when I did a phoner with Pritchard from the MTV TV series/movie "Dirty Sanchez". I expected our discussion to centre on dangerous stunts and painful pranks, but he turns out to have two whole other lives.

Pritch has been a pro skater for the past 15 years and now has his own line of products, including, he tells me, the most popular model of skating shoe in Oz.

He's also a trained chef whose hobbies, when he's not body-battering or board-riding for the camera, are cooking and visiting good restaurants with his girlfriend.

So it turns out he's not a nutter at all - just someone with a high tolerance to pain who's always enjoyed taking risks and managed to luck into a job where doing so brought him cred and cashola. One of the last things he said to me was, "I wanna be a kid till I die."

Recommended viewing

"An Aussie Goes Barmy" - Fox8, Mondays, 8.30pm.

Doco series about an Australian named Gus who's hanging out with the Barmy Army for the duration of the Ashes - which, as you can imagine, involves vast quantities of cricket, beer and ribbing (both spoken and sung).

The twist is this bloke's so confident of a home victory, he's agreed that if we lose, he'll support England for the rest of his life.

I was only planning to watch the start due to several chores that needed doing. Next thing I knew, the credits were rolling and I was left wanting more.

This isn't an attempt to expose the Brit supporters as a bunch of hooligans. It's a celebration of their all-weather fandom and general good nature - as demonstrated by their willingness to allow Gus into their midst.

You find out the level of sacrifice and commitment needed to follow a sporting team overseas for 2-3 months, as well as the activities that happen between the Tests, eg. the Fanatics vs Barmy Army cricket match (they won).

Then there are the jokers who liven things up by pretending to copulate with an inflatable kangaroo, playing the theme from "Neighbours" on a trumpet or dressing up as the Queen and giving the locals a royal wave...

Like I said, recommended viewing.

Retro racing

The last time I visited Sydney's Eastern Creek Raceway was for the first-ever Aussie leg of the fledgling A1 Grand Prix competition. It was scorchingly hot, the crowd was massive and you were very limited in where you could venture around the circuit (even the grandstand cost extra!).

Today, I returned - in the company of CM, AM, Mr M and a picnic lunch courtesy of Mrs M - for the 1960s Tasman Revival (that decade supposedly being the golden age of Aussie racing). It was overcast and cool, the crowd was modest and you could wander almost anywhere - including the pits.

Arriving a bit after 11am and staying until the end, we saw the following races:

* Formula Vee (X2 - both demonstration only. So named for the cars' Volkswagen engines)
* Vintage and PVT (X2 - a handicap event plus a scratch race later in the day)
* Tasman Cup (The main event)
* Touring cars
* Sports racing cars
* Racing cars division 2
* Formula One (Demonstration. The field of six included four real beauties, but I liked the striking black'n'gold John Player Special Lotus best), AND
* Marque sports cars.

For those who've never experienced live motorsport, it's much louder than you expect and you really can smell the melting tyres and fuming exhausts as the cars zoom past. Those aren't just commentator cliches.

I'm not the person to explain the differences between the above categories, but they all featured beautifully restored/maintained vehicles driven by enthusiasts - some who'd travelled here from the US and UK.

The highlights of the day for me were the Tasman Cup and the touring cars as they were the most closely contested groups. Every race had its tussles, though.

Thankfully, there were no serious accidents, but we did see plenty of racers spin off the track, stall or conk out completely.

Where the A1 GP pits were off-limits to spectators, at the Tasman Revival they were open for inspection and most "teams" had gone to the trouble of creating a display about their car and its history.

Nobody minded you taking photos with their auto pride'n'joys and the car park was full of classics. CM snapped my picture next to an immaculate burgundy Jaguar Mk II like the one from "Inspector Morse". Drool.

Finally, a bit of trivia. Anyone remember 80s reality TV show "Sylvania Waters", about the Donaher family? Mick was there today, racing a Chevy Camaro (he finished third). I'm pretty sure I spotted Laurie and Noeline, too.

Game boy

Last weekend, while in Newcastle, I played Indy HeroClix with PG and GH. We used an Asian temple map. I was the kick-arse chicks from David Mack's "Kabuki" comic, defending their home turf against inter-dimensional interlopers. These consisted of an alliance of good guys from 2000AD's "Judge Dredd" and "Strontium Dog" (PG), who were battling the four dark judges from "J/D" (GH). The first game was over in minutes as GH easily achieved his objective of eliminating a wounded and isolated Dredd. After we'd tweaked a few parameters, the second went for more than an hour - maybe closer to two. Victory could have been anyone's, but I was lucky enough to pass all of my crucial dice rolls and wipe out the unholy quartet of Death, Fear, Fire and Mortis. The remainder of the arvo we spent cooperatively playing "Hunter: The Reckoning" on Xbox, which ain't bad.

Through the week, I started one of my solo round-robin tourney's using the four theme decks from the new Magic: The Gathering expansion, Time Spiral. At this stage, "Fun With Fungus" (thallids) and "Sliver Evolution" (slivers, obviously) seem the strongest. Full results whenever I finish.

Last night, I met up with my gaming buddies SC, LC, TC and LPO. We began with the boardgame "Nexus Ops", in which you play factions competing to mine "rubium" on a distant moon, using the proceeds to buy more human and alien troops* with which to expand and enforce your claim. The game ends as soon as one player achieves 12 victory points (by winning battles and/or completing secret missions). That person was TC (I placed last on 4 points). We moved on to the card classic "Munchkin", but by this time the beer and red wine was starting to take its toll. I think we gave up on it before there was a result. "Runebound" we barely even started, which I now regret as it looked really good (like "D&D" compressed into a boardgame). When the others crashed out or drove home**, LPO and I went to a pub to play pool, then to an 80s party.

It's not often you can go space mining and dance to Toto in the one night :-)

*These are some of the coolest pieces I've seen, thanks to great designs and fluoro colours. The lava leapers remind me of squigs from "Warhammer".

**I'm referring to the one sober person here.

Go on, try a little – you’ll like it…

"Pusher"
Rated MA, out now on DVD

If this tale of drug dealers, henchmen and hookers had been produced in America, the actors would all be rappers and second-string tough guys, and chances are you’d be bored with it halfway through.
Good thing it was made in Denmark, then, with a convincing cast and compelling storyline that doesn’t waste time on posturing or one-liners.
So let’s get into it.
Frank (Kim Bodnia) is a small-time dealer who owes his supplier Miro (Zlatko Buric) 50 grand after getting short-changed on a sale.
He convinces Miro to advance him more product, then sets up an even bigger deal to clear his debt. But when the police intervene, Frank’s forced to do a runner and manages to lose the heroin, the dough and 24 hours while in lock-up.
Now he’s desperate. The crime boss has started adding interest and it won’t be long before the heavies stop playing nice.
The only people on Frank’s side are his mate Tonny (Mads Mikkelsen), who may have blabbed to the cops, and his sort-of girlfriend Vic (Laura Drasbaek), a prostitute who seems more concerned for her sick dog.
They’re no help, but Frank’s biggest enemy’s himself. When he’s not in total denial and clubbing the night away, he’s frantically hustling, doing someone over or double-crossing in pursuit of the cash.
It’s a riveting ride. Just don’t expect to see everything resolved by the end of the movie as "Pusher"’s the first part in a trilogy.