(no subject)
I know I had more to say about the things that went on last week at work, but I think I'll just sum it up with the words "relatively stressful". The project I'm working on is all a bit behind because the guy doing the backend is really very slow. Java isn't really his thing, just as Laszlo isn't mine. But how his unit tests have passed all this time I don't know. It's just one of the things buggering up my sleep. That being said, the other things buggering up my sleep aren't nearly so annoying.
I've been battling intense cynicism this weekend, particularly when it came to this whole ANZAC Day phenomenon. I'm sure if I were to look at this date in previous years on this journal I'd have the usual "thank you for dying and giving us a day off" thing. This year I feel I've moved beyond that and instead have a distinct feeling of asininity, particularly when I see the news reporting of the day. It seems that broad generalisations, faux patriotism and hyperbole are what pass for the true meaning of ANZAC Day and therefore what it means to be Australian. Bah!
We drove up to Marysville today, and I've gotta say it's not looking that swish. There's plenty of black tree trunks along The Black Spur, but it at least is still looking magnificent. Marysville still looks like a disaster area, with huge swathes of nothing. Perhaps I don't quite understand its significance and size, but the place was teaming with people. Where did they all come from? What keeps them there? (Playing devil's advocate? Me?) I think it was just as well we stopped for scones and tea in Healesville rather than hold out. Patience isn't high on some people's skill list, but once again it paid off. There seems to be many redeeming features in this philosophy of life, and I'm wondering what it takes to become a convert.
I've been battling intense cynicism this weekend, particularly when it came to this whole ANZAC Day phenomenon. I'm sure if I were to look at this date in previous years on this journal I'd have the usual "thank you for dying and giving us a day off" thing. This year I feel I've moved beyond that and instead have a distinct feeling of asininity, particularly when I see the news reporting of the day. It seems that broad generalisations, faux patriotism and hyperbole are what pass for the true meaning of ANZAC Day and therefore what it means to be Australian. Bah!
We drove up to Marysville today, and I've gotta say it's not looking that swish. There's plenty of black tree trunks along The Black Spur, but it at least is still looking magnificent. Marysville still looks like a disaster area, with huge swathes of nothing. Perhaps I don't quite understand its significance and size, but the place was teaming with people. Where did they all come from? What keeps them there? (Playing devil's advocate? Me?) I think it was just as well we stopped for scones and tea in Healesville rather than hold out. Patience isn't high on some people's skill list, but once again it paid off. There seems to be many redeeming features in this philosophy of life, and I'm wondering what it takes to become a convert.