Thinking Outside of the Idiot Box.

Over the past few years, quality television has been dying down in New Zealand. Rodney Hide has stopped awkwardly gyrating in a puddle of perspiration, the entire population of the country has by now experienced a home makeover of some kind, and since the French decided to resume their nuclear testing in the Pacific, Treasure Island has tragically been sunk.

What we need now are fresh ideas -- creative ways to breathe new life into this moribund art form. If TVNZ takes the following suggestions on board, this fine country may be in for a new golden age in public broadcasting.

1) Dancing With The Stars: Bollywood Edition.
In this exciting new series, New Zealand celebrities are thrown onto a low-budget Bollywood set without any prior instructions. Which contestant will break cultural barriers, remember their choreography, and survive on the mean streets of Delhi at night in order to earn the title of 'International Disgrace'?
More importantly, will they earn enough money for the flight back?

2) Who Wants To Be A Giant Donut?
Combining the thrilling action of Survivor with a modern flavour, every episode of this 'The Biggest Loser' crossover show features a new contestant being forced to dress up as their favourite pastry item before being locked in a room with the Biggest Loser cast for an indefinite period of time.
Season Two features drug-induced hallucinations which effectively blur the line between fiction and reality for the participants. Is the donut real?
Is anything real? Dude.

3) The Biggest Douchebag.
From the makers of The Biggest Loser comes a riveting new tale of arrogance, treachery, and general despicability.
Twelve of the most loathsome members of society are forced to share a house with one beautiful woman whose heart they must capture by lying, cheating, and possibly stealing. The first episode requires all participants to form a futile 'alliance' with everyone, including the camera crew, in order to get ahead in the game. In a revolutionary twist, however, there is no voting system. To eliminate a contestant, the enraged viewer(s) must travel to the aforementioned house and forcibly remove a subject of their choice.


4) The Unnecessarily Complicated Life.
Cashing in on the success of hit show 'The Simple Life', this new series revolves around the reactions of Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie when faced with preposterously complicated situations. The pilot episode will feature the two celebrities struggling to come to terms with postmodern literature, as they are required to write a structural analysis of Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon. The Unnecessarily Complicated Life uses an all-new 'Catch 22 System', making it absolutely impossible for either of the two girls to complete any of their assigned tasks without being sent back directly to where they started from.
The first season ends with a cliffhanger as the stars stand in the same spot they have been in since day one, in what appears to be an existential crisis.


5) This Isn't Your Life.
This Isn't Your Life is very similar to This Is Your Life, with one key difference: The chosen subject for every episode is a mundane and unremarkable citizen who is shown the high points of another, more successful, individual's life. After having been exposed to 30 to 60 minutes of glowing testimonials and a seemingly endless list of accomplishments, the subject is given time to openly reflect during the "Where did I go wrong?" section at the end of every show.

Area Locals Exposed to Terrifying Force of Nature: Government Refuses to Help.

--Dunedin, New Zealand.--
In a shocking turn of events, the residents of Dunedin have been subjected to a highly dangerous spectrum of electromagnetic radiation.
Upon first impact, locals experienced temporary blindness and primal terror at the sight, which has inevitably scarred the hearts and minds of the young and old alike.

"It was like nothing I'd ever experienced before in my life", said local man Michael Lamb, "I stepped outside and it felt like I was being burned alive. I couldn't see anything, but I could hear everyone around me hissing and weeping in agony."

It is unknown where this crisis originated, but speculation has implicated multiple terrorist organisations, the French rugby team, and George Bush.
According to lifetime Dunedin resident and grandfather of four Isaac Bernhardt, this is not the first time it has happened in his life:

"When I was still a lad, I remember going outside despite my mother telling me not to. All I remember is a blinding flash of light, and waking up a few hours later. My skin was incredibly sensitive and its colour had changed into a violent red hue. Oh, that horrible, horrible light. I thought I would never see it again."

Experts are concerned about the long-term implications of exposure to this inexplicable source of terror, but the majority of these unfortunate victims feel they need swift government intervention in order to carry on with their lives as they would normally. Residents of Dunedin and surrounding towns have demanded outside help as they continue to suffer from these pulsating beams of heat.

The New Zealand Minister of Weather-Related Affairs has since released a disgruntled press statement after continued pressure on him to do so, saying "It's just the sun. What more can I say?"
It remains unknown whether or not he will issue a public apology, though civil rights groups are up in arms about his apparent apathy towards the population of the Otago area.

Left: The prime suspect.

Parliament V2.0 - Now with added violence.

New Zealand's Senior Cabinet Minister Trevor Mallard may have just unwittingly changed the future of politics in this country.
National party member Tau Henare said Mr. Mallard "lost his rag" after he directed a "very short, three-word, comment" at him in the House about his personal life. How did he do this?
He punched him.
He punched him right in the face.

This is the latest event in a series of odd displays by the House of Representatives, but it is certainly the most interesting. Trevor Mallard has finally taken this ministerial trash-talking to another level, and has now incorporated what the vast majority of us want to see: high-ranking public figures engaged in embarrassingly ineffective combat.

For the first time in the history of New Zealand, representatives of the two main political parties in the country have joined together in order to make politics more interesting to an otherwise disaffected audience.
The entire nation has suddenly woken up to the fact that politics isn't all about legislation, debates, and endless campaigning -- it's also about petty name-calling, childish taunts, and blind rage.

It may not have been the most intelligent thing to do on Trevor Mallard's behalf, but somewhere inbetween angrily pouncing on Tau Henare and being dragged away by several bystanders he did something that most politicians can only dream of: He made a large amount of people smile.
He did not achieve this by making forced jokes, he didn't comment on Australia, and he certainly didn't mention the policies of other political parties, and I believe that is a very rare thing in politics. Personally, I don't think Mr. Mallard should face any serious punishment for what he did.
Many other people do, however.
As a working compromise, my suggestion is that we outsource his current duties to someone else, and make him our representative at all future international meetings. Why?

New Zealand is a very small country with a minimal influence on global politics. I think we should change that.
If our representative had a reputation for being 'that guy' -- the one who can snap at any minute and launch himself at you -- we may be able to play a more important role at summits.
I'm not advocating the use of bullying in order to have sanctions imposed on countries that finished ahead of New Zealand in the Rugby World Cup, I'm just saying that it's a possibility we shouldn't be ruling out without serious consideration.

Fractals - Part 3: Too much spare time.

Click on the images to view them in full size (as they should be viewed).
Please ignore the silly names -- I'm always in a mad rush to save the images, and usually settle for the first thing that comes into my mind.

Terrorist plot uncovered, covered.

Recently there has been a nationwide controversy as the New Zealand police carried out several raids on the homes of and training grounds of 'terrorists'.
The search warrants were carried out under the Firearms Act and the Terrorism Suppression Act.
No-one was physically hurt in these raids, but 17 men (mainly Maori political activists) were arrested with some of them facing serious firearms charges.

This issue has absolutely torn up any pretense of a comfortably multi-cultural society in New Zealand, as racial divisions are clearly being shown by all sides. Parliament has erupted, but instead of burning lava and ash there are personal feuds and gargantuan clashes of ego creeping downwards to the unsuspecting population (and possibly a sleeping minister or two) below.

Newstalk ZB (http://nz.news.yahoo.com/071023/2/256u.html#) says:

"Tempers have frayed in Parliament, with Maori Party MP Hone Harawira claiming police are ignorant towards Maori.

Mr Harawira used a speech in Parliament this afternoon to continue his party's attacks on police following last weeks terror raids. He laid into police, attacking them for the way the raids were carried out. Mr Harawira likened their actions to those used by the US to invade Iraq and find the supposed weapons of mass destruction.

"And a readiness to brutalise Tuhoe in exactly the same way they did a hundred years ago, even using 70 armed constabulary like they did back then."

The speech infuriated Peter Dunne, who labelled it disgusting.

"It becomes the dignity of that member and this house no good at all, to behave in that manner on a matter of this type. I intend to waste no more time on the member because frankly he doesn't deserve it."

The Maori Party also highlighted criticism from the Montreal Maori Solidarity Committee, which describes last week's arrests as suppression of the legitimate right to dissent.

Maori Affairs Minister Parekura Horomia responded saying New Zealand has one of the best records for race relations, and while there may be tensions, they are not new. He says if the country is serious about nationhood people should not be trying to pull it asunder. Mr Horomia says "a lot of rubbish" is being talked about the issue at the moment."

The likening of the raids to the American invasion of Iraq for weapons of mass destruction strikes me as being somewhat off-the-mark for several reasons.
What I feel Mr. Harawira neglects to mention is that in this case, the weapons they were searching for were actually there.
I don't think this is a blatant case of anti-Maori racism - I think the police heard something very close to what we did. A large group of armed men (not Maori, not 'Pakeha', but unidentified men with guns) were running around in a forest wearing camouflage gear, and upon further inspection many were found to have illegal weaponry including Molotov cocktails.

None of the arrested men were terrorists, and I feel calling them that is part of the reason why this issue is escalating out of control.
Terrorism in the modern sense is "violence or other harmful acts committed (or threatened) against civilians for political or other ideological goals."
There is no evidence whatsoever of these men plotting against civilians, or seeking to cause any kind of terror. The only party which has even come close to inspiring terror in this case is the police, by arresting several men on firearms charges and claiming they had just prevented a malicious terrorist plot.

I do feel that the Terrorism Suppression Act was misused in this case.
At best it was an overreaction (much like everything else that has been said regarding this matter), and at worst it was a deliberate decision made to justify the persecution of several minority groups.
However, many are demanding the immediate release of all activists placed under arrest. While I would support this if they had done nothing that could be considered illegal, they are currently in court for serious firearms charges, not for being 'terrorists'.
One of the accused has been released on bail already, and the rest are expected to be able to do so within the coming few days.
Molotov cocktails aren't for drinking, despite what your arch-nemesis told you, and if the police find several of them in your house after searching it under the Firearms Act I believe they have every right to ask you a few questions.

This issue, among others, has found itself proving once more that racial relations in New Zealand are not as comfortable as we're often told they are.
Laws set in place to combat terror have been misused for the first time in our country, and a large military-style operation has single-handedly managed to fiercely reignite lingering racial tension, cause a public outcry, and confiscate a few guns.
I think that the way this issue is resolved (or not) will make the difference between whether or not these men will be remembered as criminals or martyrs several years from now.
The way I see it, there's a good chance they'll still be considered as both.

It all started with the All Blacks losing.

A Spoonful of Caribou & More.

Warning: The following post contains the result of too much spare time spent on Wikipedia, a sense of simultaneous delight and dismay at the English language, and a boogle of weasels.
Continue at your own discretion.

We all know the commonly-cited inconsistencies in the English language.
At some point, you may have wondered what the deal was with goose/geese, sheep/sheep, and moose/moose - however, in the haze of confusion that can often surround the plurals of animals, the collective nouns used to describe them are often neglected.
This is probably a good thing, if you take some of these into consideration:

• A romp of otters.

• A gaggle of geese (when not in flight).

• A skein of geese (when in flight).

• A boogle of weasels.

• A bask of crocodiles.

• A knot of frogs.

• A creep of tortoises.

• A turn of turtles.

• A lodge of beavers.

• A sounder of boars.

• A kukpowder of bullfinches.

• A dormobile of camels.

• A spoonful of caribou.

• A gang of elk.

• A rake of mules.

• A nye of pheasants.

• A parcel of hogs.

• A waltz of piglets.

And last but not least:

• A pile of platypi.

I wish some of these were fictional.
I really do.

The Platypus: Nature's mistake or the harbinger of suffering?

The platypus.
This ignoble creature is often regarded as a fluke of nature rivalled only by the likes of axolotls and The Backstreet Boys. It is frequently mocked for its appearance, which lends itself to the belief that it is a dimwitted and generally useless animal.
However, I think that the humble platypus can teach us a very valuable lesson:
Stay far away from the damned things.


"I AM A PLATYPUS."

At first glance, one notices a bizarre otter/beaver/duck hybrid, seemingly incapable of causing any harm.
This couldn't be further from the truth.
Platypi (trust me, I've looked it up) are finely-tuned combat machines, born to hunt and kill unsuspecting prey using electroreception, expert camouflage, and powerful venom.

A male platypus is able to produce 250 different chemicals in its crural gland, with four of them being major toxins. Out of these four, three are unique to the platypus!
This means that they are very capable of hurting you, and they even have their own special venom to do it with.

Wikipedia says: "Although powerful enough to kill smaller animals, the venom is not lethal to humans. However, it produces excruciating pain which may be intense enough to incapacitate the victim. Swelling rapidly develops around the entry wound and gradually spreads outwards. Information obtained from case studies and anecdotal evidence show that the pain develops into a long-lasting hyperalgesia that can persist for months."

Another thing to note is the stealthy manner in which this vicious beast conceals its weapon.
The male platypus has a venomous spur on the inside of each hind limb, and will not hesitate to dig these into you if it feels threatened or frustrated.

Imagine the following scenario:
You're a platypus (don't try to argue), lying blissfully on the bank of a river.
Suddenly a lumbering bipedal giant crashes through the bushes, stares directly at you, and begins to make loud guffawing noises whilst pointing its claw-like finger in your direction.
You're going to feel extremely frustrated.

As you may have gathered by now, the only thing that matches the platypus' odd appearance is its insatiable desire for the pain and anguish of others.
When you combine its powerful venom with the fact that it is nearly invisible in water, you have a creature capable of haunting the nightmares of small children for years to follow.



"I am here to eat your soul."

This week in the news:

- Current All Black captain Richie McCaw does stuff.

- Is Doug Howlett injured? No, but that doesn't stop us from running a 3-minute article on it.

- We only won that international game by a 95 point margin: who do we blame?

- The next match is going to be even better than the last one. Trust us.

- Did we mention that we have a good chance of winning the World Cup?

- We could win the World Cup, you know.

- We won the World Cup in 1987.
Here's a highlight reel.

- Coming up: We search for a comfortable bandwagon to jump in order to capitalise on popular opinion.

- What do you think of Britney Spears? We'll tell you after the break.

- Italy managed to score two tries against us in our resounding 76 -14 victory. Should the Italian team be tested for illegal steroids, and was that a forward pass?
Yes on both counts.

- Next up is 'Dobbo' with sports news.

I'm still alive.

It has been a while since this page has been updated, but I have two very good excuses:
1) I was told about 'the sun' - an elusive concept at first, which soon proved to be quite pleasurable.
2) I underwent major surgery on Friday.

While I would also enjoy learning more about this mysterious "Sun", I will use this blog entry to tell you the gory details relating to my operation.
First of all, let me say that the surgery was successful.
I feel a lot more agile, and I now have the ability to move my head without any difficulty. However, this freedom of movement has come at a cost; the sharp tools used to free me from my restricting fetters have also altered my appearance greatly.

Some of you may not be able to recognise me, as even my dearest friend found himself at a loss for words.
It took me some time to come to terms with my new countenance, but ultimately I think it's for the best. It was a choice that I had to make at some point, and I decided that it would ultimately be more beneficial to do it sooner rather than later:

I had a haircut.

Insomnia.

A lot of people think counting sheep is a good way to fall asleep.
A lot of people are wrong.
Last night, after individually naming and assigning characteristics to every single sheep in New Zealand (there are a lot), I gave up.
I turned on my television, and gazed at the horror that had waited for me so patiently:
Infomercials.

After trying to find something I could watch without losing a little bit of faith in humanity, I became aware that this was impossible.
Over the course of several minutes, I learned:

• I can make millions in real estate without leaving my bed if I follow a set of five simple instructions.

• For a mere $3.50 per message, quasi-attractive girls may send me a text such as "Hi" or "Hello". If I'm lucky I will be asked if I enjoy Thai cuisine.

• I can be the proud owner of a 'Bowflex body' by exercising three times every week.

• Having a Bowflex body will instantly make me a professional volleyball player at age 41.

• Being a middle-aged man and playing volleyball for a living is the very apex of human success.

• Never trust anyone.

• No matter how tired you are, Fox News will never seem like a fair and balanced news source.

• If there was a medieval battle between 65,400 infantrymen armed with brooms, and 65,400 brooms armed with infantrymen, the fate of the world would ultimately depend on how fast a polar bear can run when put under mild stress.
(I began hallucinating due to sleep deprivation at this point.)

• Most of all, hallucinations involving anthropomorphic brooms and polar bear protagonists are often more realistic/truthful than anything aired on television after midnight.

Hamsterism vs. Existentialism.

In Business Communication today, we discussed impediments to our success.
As usual, we got slightly side-tracked.
The amount of involvement that was shown when the topic of faith and spirituality came up was surprising, and the idea of personal fulfillment from belief was given great importance.

I'm a firm believer in freedom of religion in the purest sense of the term.
If you were to tell me that you worshipped your pet hamster as an omnipotent being, I would acknowledge that as your right.
(However, I would certainly question the amount of introspection and thought that went into this decision.)
It can be difficult to respect the beliefs of others sometimes, regardless of what spiritual category you fall under; acknowledging that someone else's view may be equally as valid as yours can be challenging when the arguments are polar opposites.
The views of others can also be useful to you, however.

I feel that in order to be genuinely valuable, your belief has to be questioned.
If you find yourself believing (or refusing to believe) in something, ask yourself why on a regular basis.
Better yet, discuss the subject with someone who has a different take on it.
I think the best way to reach a conclusion on life is not to reach it at all - once someone considers their view as a final 'conclusion', they are essentially becoming a vessel for that idea rather than the idea being an accurate projection of their true thoughts.
What we once saw as being correct can, and probably will, eventually develop into an adapted version of itself - sometimes in an almost unrecognisable form.

It is easy to say you are a Christian, Muslim, Atheist, or Hamsterist at heart.
It is not so easy to actually be one.

On life and meaning, I find myself agreeing with the likes of Sartre and Camus in their existential views.
I believe in the idea that existence precedes essence, and that universal meaning is not an inherent component of life.
With that being said, their work should not be misinterpreted as an indication that life is 'meaningless'; rather that meaning can be derived from existence in itself.

Dream exceeds expectation - Mother suspected of witchcraft.

--Dunedin, New Zealand
Last night, local boy Billy Carragher, 10, found himself sleeping peacefully after a hard day's work.

"I had been to soccer and stuff and was getting sort of tired, so I went to bed early. My mom said 'sweet dreams' I think - I didn't really pay much attention. I wanted to sleep and she's always saying stuff like that anyway."

What happened next would amaze even the most skeptical of readers:
The mother's command became a reality, as Billy suddenly began experiencing an increase in brain activity. His cholinergic PGO waves began to stimulate his mid and fore-brain sections, as he found himself trapped in a state which is scientifically known as 'Rapid Eye Movement' (REM) sleep.

"It was totally sweet - there were even racecars and flying dogs and stuff! When mom said 'sweet dreams' I was all like 'yeah right' but dude, this was so sweet."

While this may seem harmless to some, critics of the mother (Mrs. Alice Carragher, a 34 year-old homemaker) have demanded a public debate on whether her magical powers could be used for the purpose of evil.
James Witford, chairman of the Dunedin Association for Concerned Citizens (DACC) has called for the immediate capture of Alice Carragher for interrogation purposes.

"Sure, she can make her own kid have a 'sweet' dream, but what if she decides to make you suffer night terrors? Dreams can influence the way we think subconsciously. Trust me, I have a friend who has a PhD in this kind of thing.
She's a menace, and must be stopped if we want to protect our society! Vote Witford for Chairman '08."

Alice Carragher has refused to make herself available for any comment regarding this matter, but has been rumoured to have a history of suspicious behaviour.
Carragher's neighbour, Joyce Bartlett, has stated:

"I heard this really strange noise a few nights ago - it was like a plate or a glass breaking in the middle of the night. I got up to see what it was, and surely enough I saw a black cat in my living room. It must have come in through the window. I started calmly telling it to get out, but all it did was look at me in the same way that Alice does sometimes. It was this odd mixture of curiosity and empathy. Please, Alice, if you're reading this - let us help you. This isn't your fault."

The local population remains divided over this issue, as the situation continues to escalate.
Billy's father has openly displayed dismay at the public outcry:

"What's wrong with you people? Is this a joke or something?
The only thing Alice did was tell our child to have a good night, and if that's a crime, consider her guilty."

With an admission of her guilt from someone so close to Mrs. Carragher, Detective Constable James Myers of the Dunedin police force claimed he had 'no choice' but to issue a warrant for her arrest.
An open witch-hunt has been declared, but the crafty mother seems to have disappeared.
If anyone has any leads regarding the whereabouts of Alice Carragher, please contact your local police station.

LEFT - An artist's rendering of Alice Carragher.

I finally get to use the word 'sesquipedalian' without being punched in the face.

In this blog entry, I shall attempt to bring to light some of the more chthonic depths of the English language. I am referring to words such as milquetoast, which serve very little practical purpose, but may get you a date with a librarian.

While some of these are fungible and serve only to increase your ostentatious grandiloquence, they will enhance your vocabulary with a certain salient quality.
Inevitably subject to solecism, they come fully endowed with hyperlinks which elucidate upon their context and general usage.

Using these words in common conversation will inevitably exalt you above the plebeian mire of mediocrity, whether they be used in an extended paroxysm or as a mere scintilla in a sentence.

Possible negative repercussions of using these words include, but are not limited to:
-The common public flouting you for your sesquipedalian excess.
-Experienced philomaths discovering that you only use these words to disguise the fact that you have very little to add to a discussion.
-A flaneur harassing you because he took offense to you calling him a flaneur. (Seriously, what's your problem?)
-A particularly shifty hobbledehoy mugging you, because anyone who uses the word 'hobbledehoy' truly deserves it.
-An attractive member of the opposite sex falls madly in love with you due to the misconception that you are a multifarious member of the intelligentsia.
When she discovers that you are but a lowly neophyte, she savagely assails you with a ballpoint pen.
-Your hubris enrages Zeus, as he unleashes a cataract of fire and thunder upon you.

Now that you have been warned of the intransigent punishments that may await you, be free!
Share your coruscant knowledge with the world, and may you be added to the glorious hagiography of eloquence!

Just try not to get hit.

Fractals - Part 2.

As previously requested.
Click on the pictures to view them in full-size:

Cosmic horror unleashed on Dunedin: Locals mildly affected.

At approximately 9 P.M. last night, Dunedin was the victim of what is now considered to be the most horrifying experience known to mankind.
This incredulous event has baffled both local and international scientists, and has single-handedly reshaped the laws of physics as we previously knew them.
It began with several hours of heavy rain, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
There had been no warnings, causing mild discomfort among those away from the comfort of their homes.

Soon, however, even those inside of their residences were affected.
In what can only be described as a supernatural phenomenon, the sky was peeled back by thousands of writhing tentacles - each the size of a large apartment block.
A copious amount of acidic slime began dripping from these, burning through rooftops, trees, and reacting with water to form an anthropomorphic entity comprised solely of mucus and pure hatred.

"At this point I thought something wasn't quite right", said local area man Peter Murray. He continued: "I know the weather in Dunedin can be unpredictable, but I've never seen any giant tentacles of death descending upon humanity. Ah well, she'll be right mate."

Mike Wilson, a Dunedin teenager, tells us how his life was affected by this terrifying spectacle:

"Well, at first they crashed through the roof - the tentacles I mean. The acid was everywhere. My dog was barking frantically, and we just didn't know what to do.
The whole room was a mess, I didn't know what the rest of the house was like before we got out through one of the giant holes in the wall, and I saw that one of the tentacles had plunged straight into my room, destroying pretty much everything I owned.
They were all around us, and we were trapped. I watched as my entire house began disintegrating, and there was nothing I could do to stop it."

At this point I had heard enough.
I asked if I could do anything to help, to which he replied (whilst nurturing the small stump which served as a reminder of his right leg):

"Nah, she'll be fine mate. She'll be fine eh.
Just needs a wee bit of time."

The indomitable spirit of Dunedin residents remains intact, despite the continuous havoc wreaked by these giant antediluvian abominations of nature.
It's almost contagious, as I find myself thinking that maybe it will all be "right."
Maybe it doesn't matter how many tentacles are trying to end human existence, or just how painful their acid is - as long as we remain positive in thinking tha-OH GOD THEY'RE COMING FOR M-

Hedgehogs join the B.A.P.'s 'Protection List.'

kk so hetchhawgz r n0w protekted spaces meenin that u cann0t undah ne circumcistances kill or eet dem dey are protkected bbc said so and now deze guuys called BAP (burea of amportant people) are like "OOOHHHH YOU CANT TAKE OUR HETCHHAWGZ"
maybe some guyz are like 'ah man u burn the hawgsters homes' but that is probly rong ae.
we mite not burn the hawgsters homes
and hawgsters are very endangred nowadays they are not strong as an ox.
they are very small
not oxes

there was some stuff bout other aminals like birds snakes and rattlefish too but i didnt read i dont enjoy i only like teh hawgs

IN TRANSLATION:

The new Biodiversity Action Plan (B.A.P.) has recently released an updated list of species in need of conservation and greater protection.
To the surprise of many concerned readers, hedgehogs were found to be on this list.
There are multiple theories surrounding the addition of these small mammals, with many experts claiming that the key factor in this discovery is wider research into the lives of hedgehogs, rather than a significant decrease in their available habitat.

Considering the nature of this beloved animal, the hedgehog could be faced with serious issues standing in the way of its survival as a species.
The United Kingdom's Biological Diversity minister, Joan Ruddock, has been quoted as saying the key to sustaining a healthy environment for generations to come is biological diversity, which is something she believes we should consider more frequently.

Other animals added to the B.A.P.'s list include the grass snake and the garden tiger moth, who now join bottlenose dolphins and red squirrels as species in need of further habitat protection.

Fractals.

I haven't created any new images for a few weeks, but I thought I'd post some of my better ones here.
I have around 200 more of these sitting around, so if anyone wants to see them feel free to send me an e-mail.
Click on the images to view them in full-size.

The great thing about fractal drawings is that they can be resized to any resolution, so assuming I had a giant plotter of some kind I could turn these into 500m by 500m flags.
You know.
In case anyone ever needs a really huge flag.
It could happen.

Childhood dreams come true: How to cheat at Minesweeper and more.

Microsoft Games.
Everyone has played them at least once, with varying results.
Some claim to be masters of Solitaire, some take great pride in their advanced status on Minesweeper, and some may even venture a boast in regards to their Pinball score. However, there will always be those who are absolutely hopeless.
Maybe it's due to a lack of lateral thinking, luck, or perhaps some of the games don't seem to actually make any sense (I'm looking at you, Freecell).
Regardless, this post is for you.

Let's begin with a childhood favourite: Minesweeper.
It doesn't matter who you are, where you come from, or how great you think you are at games: if you have ever played Minesweeper, you have lost at least once.
The deceased smiling face now wears a frown, and you know that you are directly responsible for his brutal demise.

After reading this, there is no need to worry further.
Here's a fool-proof way to keep him smiling/alive:

1) Minimize or close all running applications.
2) Open Minesweeper.
3) Type xyzzy
4) Press Shift.
5) Now when you move your cursor over a square in the game, keep an eye out on the top-left part of your desktop screen. You should see a white pixel.
This white pixel means that a square is safe to click - if the pixel is black, it is a mine.
Congratulations, you'll never lose at Minesweeper again.
You're also a shameless cheater.

Next up is Pinball - A favourite among those looking for flashing lights and sounds.
Whatever your motives for cheating are, the next hint will prove to be very useful if you have an ongoing pinball rivalry with a sibling, friend, or mortal foe.
At the start of your game, type hidden test.
You may not think anything has happened - you're wrong.
Click and hold the left mouse button, dragging the cursor across the pinball screen.
Surely enough, the ball follows your every movement.
While this is exciting at first, you will soon realise that you're cheating at Microsoft Pinball. You have reached a new low.

The final part of this post is devoted to Solitaire.
Perhaps the most well-known of all standard Microsoft Games, Solitaire has managed to take playing card games by yourself to a whole new level.
It's easy to play but involves quite a significant amount of time, making it even more satisfying when you win a game.
The next cheat will remove that genuine sense of achievement, and replace it with an absolutely hollow victory.
Press Alt + Shift + 2 to instantly win.
There. That's it.
Way to go, champ.

Apostrophe Madness '07!

1) Who's the party's candidate for vice president this year?

2) The fox had its right foreleg securely in the trap's jaws.

3) Our neighbours' car is an old Chrysler, and it's just about to fall apart.
(Presuming that we have several neighbours rather than a single individual.)

4) In three weeks' time we'll have to begin school again.

5) Didn't you hear that they're leaving tomorrow?

6) Whenever I think of the stories I read as a child, I remember Cinderella's glass slipper and Snow White's wicked stepmother.

7) We claimed the picnic table was ours, but the Smiths children looked so disappointed that we found another spot.
(Presuming that the family in question is called Smiths.)

8) It's important that the kitten learns to find its way home.

9) She did not hear her children's cries.

10) My address has three sevens, and Tim's phone number has four twos.

11) Didn't he say when he would arrive at Arnie's house?

12) It's such a beautiful day that I've decided to take a sunbath.

13) She said the watch Jack found was hers, but she couldn't identify the manufacturer's name on it.

14) Little girls' clothing is on the first floor, and the mens department is on the second.

15) The dog's bark was far worse than its bite.

16) The moon's rays shone feebly on the path, and I heard the insects' chirpings and whistlings.

17) They're not afraid to go ahead with the plans, though the choice is not theirs.

18) The man whose face was tan said that he had spent his two weeks' vacation in the mountains.

19) I found myself constantly putting two Cs in the word process.

20) John's 69 Ford is his proudest possession.

A New Hope indeed.

It's no secret that Star Wars has shaped the lives of nerds worldwide.
The original Episode Four not only marked a new epoch in the somewhat esoteric culture of geeks; its fanbase also included a surprisingly large amount of "Normal People".
Rest assured that not a single well-adjusted, socially adept person was involved in the making of:

STAR WARS EPISODE FOUR - ASCII VERSION.

In my Operating Systems class, we've recently been looking at command lines.
For any of my classmates currently reading this, here's a chance to put your newly-acquired skills to the test:

1) Open the Run menu. (Access through Start > Run or just press Windows Key + R)
2) Type in "telnet". (No quotation marks)
3) If you did this correctly, you should be faced with something resembling this:

4) Type in "o towel.blinkenlights.nl". (Once again, no quotation marks)
5) Press Enter.
6) Sit back and enjoy.

Outtakes from key scenes:





May the Force be with you.

How small can you feel?

I've been interested in astronomy for a while now, and discoveries like this continue to completely puzzle me.

"WASHINGTON (Reuters) - A giant hole in the Universe is devoid of galaxies, stars and even lacks dark matter, astronomers said on Thursday.

The team at the University of Minnesota said the void is nearly a billion light-years across and they have no idea why it is there.

"Not only has no one ever found a void this big, but we never even expected to find one this size," said astronomy professor Lawrence Rudnick.

Writing in the Astrophysical Journal, Rudnick and colleagues Shea Brown and Liliya Williams said they were examining a cold spot using the Wilkinson Microwave Anisotropy Probe satellite, and found the giant hole.

"We already knew there was something different about this spot in the sky," Rudnick said. The region stood out as being colder in a survey of the Cosmic Microwave Background -- the faint radio buzz left over from the Big Bang that gave birth to the Universe.

"What we've found is not normal, based on either observational studies or on computer simulations of the large-scale evolution of the Universe," Williams said in a statement.

The astronomers said the region even appeared to lack dark matter, which cannot be seen directly but is usually detected by measuring gravitational forces.

The void is in a region of sky in the constellation Eridanus, southwest of Orion."

The fact that there is no dark matter in this void is completely mind-boggling.
Dark matter is hypothetical matter of unknown composition that does not emit or reflect enough electromagnetic radiation to be observed directly, but its presence can be inferred from gravitational effects on visible matter.
Dark matter accounts for the vast majority of mass in the observable universe.
The lack of dark matter means that there is literally nothing in this area.

To clarify just how big this void is:
A light-year is approximately equal to 9,460,730,472,580.8 km.
It takes one billion light-years to cross the void.
So:

1000,000,000 x ,460,730,472,580.8 = 460730472580800000000

The mean circumference of Earth is 40,041.47 km.
Now imagine 460,730,472,580,800,000,000 km of absolute nothingness.
It's enough to make you feel more than a little uncomfortable.

As someone once said, what we can observe of the Universe is like trying to see an elephant by standing two inches from it with a magnifying glass.
Standing two inches away from this elephant and looking at it through a magnifying glass, we have managed to see an embodiment of pure nonexistence spanning across an area much larger than anything we could possibly experience.
What else is out there?

My favourite piece of software.

While it is not my intention to brag, I have been using software since directly after my birth.
The comfortable woollen or cotton fabrics in which the midwife wrapped me marked my first venture into the magical world of software, as I began weeping with tears of both joy and sheer terror due to the sudden presence of blinding light which penetrated deep into my soul. My fear of light has since vanished, but my software-related adventures continue to this day.

As a primary school student in Enschede I was known for my supreme skills in MS Paint. I could draw various Pokemon, and often exchanged my crude (but strangely transfixing) drawings for items such as primitive pea-shooters, pogs, and the occasional piece of an eraser.
As I approached Year 8 I began using Microsoft Word to write assignments, and never failed to save them on one of my many floppy disks.

I began experimenting in Adobe Photoshop around 5 years ago, in a feeble attempt to superimpose my head on Arnold Schwarzenegger's body. Since then I have grown more adept in this program, and use it whenever I have the opportunity.
In this blog alone you can find two examples of Photoshopped images.

Photoshop is extremely versatile, and can be used for a variety of purposes, including:
1) Making horrifyingly ugly people/buildings/objects appear beautiful.
2) Inserting literally hundreds of different effects to add to an image.
3) Creating animated GIFs.
4) Inserting text.
5) Perfecting, sharpening, and digitally retouching any image, no matter how blurry it is.
6) Combining images, often used in creating multi-layered designs for album covers, magazine covers, and similar media.
7) Doing pretty much anything else imaginable to an image.

Photoshop is my favourite piece of software, because it provides me with a limitless ability to edit any image. It can be used to design banners for websites, manipulate images for added content, or simply as a recreational tool. "The many faces of Mick Murray" to the right of this page [EDIT: Now obsolete - visit http://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h103/Wombats_Live_Forever/Layered.gif for reference purposes]were created in Photoshop, and lack any kind of practical use. That's not to say I didn't enjoy making them, and hopefully some of you enjoyed looking at various mutations of yours truly.
Spiderman's wise Uncle Ben once said that "With great power comes great responsibility."
Using Photoshop, one could superimpose my head on Uncle Ben's body.

To finish off this journal entry, I would like to share something very special with you.
When I was still in my Microsoft Paint stage I decided to draw my favourite Dutch football player - Marc Overmars. Hopefully you can gain some inspiration from it.


Image Copyright of Mick Murray, circa 1997.
Any attempt to reproduce this drawing will result in immediate legal action.

Fond Memories.

When I was younger, my family travelled a lot.
In Holland it's considered nothing out of the ordinary to have a holiday somewhere in the Mediterranean area, France, or any other Western European country during the summer vacation. The Dutch culture tends to have a very strong mentality of 'getting away' from the crowded cities, and flocking en masse towards less crowded cities in order to fill them up again. Once a year there would be a mass exodus; an event which I have coined The Dutchaspora.
Think of it as a Diaspora with clogs.

My personal Dutchaspora journeys have taken me to some wonderful places, including Portugal, Germany, France, England, and Scotland, but one country in particular left a very memorable impression on me. Greece.
We stayed on the island of Corfu, in a hotel filled with like-minded tourists. I have never been an extremely social person, but as a young boy I suffered from a crippling disease known in English as shyness. I like to think that changed a little, if only slightly, on that holiday.

This was quite a long time ago, but I still remember a lot of the finer details very well. The beach was great, even though I was apprehensive at first about swimming in the open sea. My mother had a rather unfortunate encounter with something quite similar to this when she waded out into the water.
This, of course, meant that I desperately tried to remain afloat without ever touching the ground when I was out at sea. Throughout my three-week stay, locals reported several sightings of a small mammal-like creature flailing around madly, and shiftily looking down into the clear water in search of predators.
(The worst predator I saw during the course of the holiday was a man with a ponytail who charged me around $20 NZD for a poorly manufactured Inter Milan jersey.)

In the short time that I stayed in Greece, I had made three very good friends.
There was another Dutch family staying in the same hotel as us, who had a son who was a few months older than me. Knowing that I had someone my age to talk to in Dutch was reasurring, especially since we shared one common hobby:
Defending ourselves from flying ants.
While I am not an expert on the finer points of ant life, I do know that in certain species the males grow wings at a certain time of year in order to help fulfill some kind of colony-oriented goal. To two young boys with water pistols, they served only as moving targets. We had the time of our lives, triumphantly declaring victory every time we incapacitated an ant (who was always either an alien invader or a Nazi Messerschmidt aircraft) for a period greater than two seconds.
We never spoke again.

The second friend I made was Vasili, a Greek man who owned a taverna on the beach.
He was extremely interested in Native American culture, and wore a necklace which depicted an Indian Chief. He reminded me a lot of a character in an unwritten book, and was one of the kindest people I can remember meeting.
One thing that my father said later still stays with me:
He was a great human being, but not a businessman.
Vasili would give guests free food, drinks, and he spent more money on keeping his tavern than he earned. I didn't speak a lot of English, and I'm unsure of how much he spoke, but on my last day in Greece I gave him a Lego figure of an indian chief.
He gave me his necklace.

On that same day, I woke up early to spend my last Greek coins. My parents were still asleep, so I walked down the road towards the local shop.
I wanted to buy them something nice, and decided to buy two bottles shaped like a cannon and a female Greek wearing traditional garments.
I also bought a loaf of bread.
The shopkeeper stared at me when I proudly put these items on the counter, and I thought I must have looked at him in some strange way, because he appeared to be on the verge of laughter. I was not sure whether I should have felt proud or embarrassed. Now I realise why he had looked at me the way he did - the two bottles contained extremely strong alcohol known as Ouzo. I had bought enough booze to kill a small elephant.

One thing I have learned from my time in Greece is that memories are some of the most amazing things that us humans are capable of having. Oscar Wilde once despondently referred to his experiences as 'no more than a memory', but I ask: what do we ultimately have, besides memories?
I've lost Vasili's necklace, and I've long forgotten the name of my brother-in-arms, but years after all of this happened I am still moved by all of these encounters.
Sometimes a small memory can be as effective as a lifetime in bringing back feelings, and I consider myself very lucky to have so many of them.
I would go back to Corfu if I had the opportunity to do so, but I am not sure if I ever will.

Dunedin: Dunedain without the 'a'.

Dunedin is the second-largest city in the South Island, which isn't saying that much really - with around 120,000 inhabitants, our population is less than that of Fusagasugá, Colombia. However, Dunedin has repeatedly proven itself to be a subject of both national significance and international interest. So what is it that makes Dunedin so special? The city boasts several important landmarks, including a beautiful railway station, and it was once the capital city of New Zealand because of its thriving economy. However, I believe that the true tourist attraction is the natural area of Dunedin itself.

Dunedin lies on the Otago Peninsula, a volcanic remnant which plays host to various rare species of wildlife. There have been dolphin sightings, seals, penguins, various rare birds, and there's even an albatross colony! I'm originally from Holland, where the most exotic animal you could find was an extremely large cow, so this was the equivalent of stumbling into the Garden of Eden for me.
Surrounded by thick forests and dozens of walking tracks wherever you turn, any real eco-tourist wouldn't think twice about staying here. For anyone wanting to enjoy unmatched scenery, Dunedin can provide a truly extraordinary experience.

Less discerning holiday-makers, perhaps those with families in tow, will be looking for a more relaxed time.
Parents who are sick of hearing "Are we there yet?" on the way to the beach will breathe a sigh of relief when they realise that wherever they are in Dunedin, it will never take more than 15 minutes to be 'there'.
The beaches surrounding the Dunedin area are so vast and numerous that even in the middle of Summer, you could find your very own spot in the sand.

The first time I went to St. Clair beach in Dunedin, I felt like I was trapped in one of the more bizarre Twilight Zone episodes. The weather was nice, the beach was perfect, and there was a slight breeze which dispelled the heat.
There were three other people on the beach.
I was convinced that there must have been some kind of nuclear holocaust. Maybe the water was rife with swimming bears, and everyone had fled in terror. Maybe, just maybe, my many attempts to enter The Matrix had finally paid off? Like the majority of visitors to Dunedin (and perhaps New Zealand as a whole), I was shocked. Pleasantly shocked.

In summer, Dunedin's climate can be close to perfect.
Usually we can expect long hours of sun, with temperatures rarely reaching uncomfortable proportions. The Winter, however, often makes up for this.
Dunedin freezes. A lot. It's not the good kind of freezing either; the kind that makes you curl up next to a fireplace with a cup of hot chocolate in your hand.
This is the kind of freezing that solidifies the hot chocolate, and renders you largely immobile for at least two months. Self-diagnosed frostbite is extremely prominent among local hypochondriacs, and throughout our long winter nights the sound of weeping children can be easily identified. This makes mid-winter Dunedin a prime holiday destination for both masochists and snow enthusiasts. Incredible landscapes are often added to with a touch of snow, enabling you to take a panorama photo, send it back to your relatives overseas, and pretend you're in Scandinavia.

On the whole, Dunedin is an unmissable place to visit. It's one of very few holiday destinations that can provide you with Mediterranean beaches in summer, ski-slopes in winter, and exclusive flora and fauna every single day of the year.
Whatever you're looking for in your New Zealand experience, there is a good chance that Dunedin will offer it to you.

P.S.: We also have a brewery.

Why on Earth would I choose Blogger.com?

I have a long history with this website. While it is painful for me to discuss parts of our story, I will attempt to use painstaking detail in describing the tragic series of events leading up to our eventual reuniting.

When I was but a youthful scamp (eight years old or so), me and Blogger.com could often be seen frolicking through meadows and pastures, embarking on epic quests and various adventures together. We were inseparable; blood brothers until the very end. One day, as we sat on the local seesaw, however, cruel fate took its course.
On that wretched day, I had acquired a verily coveted Pokemon card. Partially holographic, this coruscant treasure was my most prized possession. With over 100 HP, Charizard was the height of artistic innovation and aesthetic joy.
Blogger.com recognised this fact.
Experts say that the severest of trauma is usually repressed by the individual's subsconscious self. I can safely say that they are lying, as I vividly recall his greedy hand reaching for the card; the grubby paws of a thief straining to reach this most cherished of items.

Surprised by this treacherous ambuscade, I was not quick enough to prevent the tragedy. All I could do was hold on to what I loved for dear life, hoping that my will would somehow convince this now-vile creature to relinquish its grip.
Blogger.com did no such thing, as he violently pulled with unworldly strength.
What happened next is something that I may never truly forgive.
The awful tearing sound reverberates inside of my skull to this day, as I watched Charizard's torso being torn apart from his lower half.
My card had been destroyed, and I would never be the same again.

For years me and Blogger.com had a silent feud, and I grew increasingly bitter with every passing second. By now, I was 16, and I had been mentally preparing a scathing diatribe for one final confrontation. Blogger.com would soon experience the full extent of my wrath. As I typed those dreaded words into my browser, years of shared experiences came rushing back to me. While he had destroyed my youthful ignorance of the world we truly were, and always will be, blood brothers. He was my best friend for years, and that is something I can express nothing but gratitude for. Pokemon has long since faded, but we both remained. I signed in, and immediately knew that Blogger.com felt nothing but regret for the shameful behaviour that has shaped our collective identities. Me and Blogger.com were back; this time with a new outlook on life.

In all seriousness, I chose this blog because it is a well-respected and renowned blogging medium. Blogger.com is relatively user-friendly, allowing personal touches to be added as well as providing a stable, versatile format. While I am not usually a fan of blogging communities as such, this particular one appears rather painless in relation to others. I decided to choose an international blog as opposed to one with a clearly 'New Zealand' identity (such as blog.co.nz), allowing for a greater target audience, giving me an increased opportunity to receive comments. Although occasionally my contributions to this blog may seem facetious, I find it infinitely more interesting to read lengthy tales of an incredible nature than reading minute details regarding a stranger's breakfast.
Unless it was an extremely good breakfast, that is.

An introduction.

I reside in the freezing depths of Dunedin; a relatively small city near the bottom of New Zealand. Often plagued by chthonic sightings and brutal Hobbit raids, it's quite an extraordinary place to be. Our local economy depends largely on international tourists, relying on both their personal expenditure (Mick Murray figurines - two for only $44.95 +GST!), and their small stature, allowing our local array of thugs and general goons to mug them with a minimal degree of difficulty.

Frequently bordering on grandiloquent, I often employ the continuous use of an esoterically verbose vocabulary in an ill-disguised attempt to veil the fact that I have very little of value to add to blog posts.
Irrelevant and abrupt changes may also occur when I inadvertently tell the online world my secrets. Do you remember Paddington Bear? He loved marmalade sandwiches. I hope you do remember Paddington Bear.

I'm currently studying IT at the Otago Polytechnic, and occasionally surface from the comfort of the computer rooms (also referred to as 'irl') to engage in mortal combat with forest elves, hill giants, and my arch-rival/bandmate Mike Lamb. Shapes are my main passion in life, and guide me in every decision I make. As I am writing this, I am thinking of new (and increasingly elaborate) ways to obtain them.


Entirely unrelated.