give yourself a pat on the back

...you can if you want but actually that's just me talking to myself. A 31 July deadline for four academic papers (three conference papers, two of which were co-authored and which admittedly are constructed only to a 'this will get past the referees even if they will have objections' standard) and a book chapter. All that stuff in parentheses actually makes it all seem a little like, well, it's not as good as all that but really, perhaps counterintuitively I don't know as I have no intuition on this any longer, it takes a lot out of you to do these things. 

It was a humbling experience earlier this year when we received referee reports on an ARC application wherein one referee suggested I didn't have a high publication rate for someone at my level. Fuck's sake! I have a hundred journal article-conference paper-book chapter publications and there are ten books with my name on them, give or take, sometimes as editor and sometimes as author or co-author. It's not something I dwell on (except when someone says something like that) and I suppose ultimately it just leaves me completely baffled as to what they meant, the only explanations I can think are either that they're in one of those STEM fields where papers all have seventy authors often added without their knowledge (either that, or half the effort of writing the paper is contacting all the authors and saying 'you OK to be on this? We'll let you know when it comes out') so twenty years into your career you have ten thousand publications, or they weren't paying attention to my publications, or they were trolling me. I don't really know.

An academic I encountered early in my career, to whom I took an unreasonable dislike very early because he was clearly predatory of the young girls in a way that surely has had the powers that be at his university periodically tut-tutting and hoping that no-one complains or that if they do it'll somehow be manageable (for all I know it's been 'managed' many times) published one book, that's it, one book. That was the basis for a career. It still gets mentioned periodically, and it leaps out at me from time to time in other contexts, so I know he has yet to be cancelled. I mean I also liked the book when I read it, and I suppose the author has to be detached from the text eg Lewis Carroll. But my point is not (I had to remind myself what my point was) that he was a predator but that some people, admittedly people who made their mark in the twentieth century when things were different, can sustain a career off one freakin' book. I guess I have yet to write the career-defining book! Probably never will and in fact would prefer not to, not that I haven't tried in the past. 

Anyway, all I really wanted to say was that finalising (let's say) 20 000 words of text on three different topics in a week isn't easy. I am pleased with myself, even if at the same time I am very cognisant that the two sole-authored ones in particular are very flawed, in a way that only their author would really know, there's no mystery to them, and that's what a good piece of writing needs I think, a bit of artifice, I can't enjoy that when I know what happened on this side of the curtain. 

Here's a goat I met yesterday. Actually, one and two thirds of two goats. 

ottawa citizen comics page

I know you're hankering for another month of Flook particularly now Rufus and Flook are in Helsinki, but I thought you might enjoy seeing a full comics section from the Ottawa Citizen, which is where I'm sourcing the Flooks from lately. These two pages were presented this way pretty regularly throughout the week in the Citizen in 1952, but not in any regular part of the paper - sometimes it's closer to the front (this is pp. 21-22 of the 11 Aug 1952 edition) but sometimes it is almost the last page. I have no idea how newspapers were figured out at this time. I mean I've seen a 'flat plan' as we used to call them in the magazine trade, but I seriously don't know how much the layout of the newspaper was even written down. I guess somehow they had to make sure that everything was in it. Not quite a lost art but I bet a lot of people dedicated their life to this kind of thing and far fewer do now. 

They had some great strips. King Aroo is particularly delightful. 

wicker whatnot

Homicide episode 147 'The Gauntlet is Down', first screened 12 March 1968, includes a visit to The Wicker Whatnot. 

From The Age 26 November 1966 p. 22:

Here is the building today for what it's worth (not a lot, although it's arguably interesting that the building to its left, the fruit shop, had a completely open frontage sixty years ago which has since been remade as a right-hand door):

What really interests me is that presumably the Wicker Whatnot were up for this placement in Homicide, reasoning that exposure on national tv was a plus, even if it was in a storyline that implied criminals worked there. 

The shop was apparently only short-lived, at least, it only advertised in late 1967. 

Age Green Guide 7 March 1968 p. 10

three irritations

Public Records Office today: (1) a man who was apparently unaware that his phone was on speaker. I said to the guy behind the counter, 'is someone in here talking really loudly with their phone on speaker?' and he said 'Yes. Libraries are changing'. (2) some old bitch yelling at the top of her not insubstantial voice all the details of her parents, where they lived, what they did, spelling every name out loud. I couldn't tell whether she was trying to explain something to a staff member, talking on the phone, or talking to herself. 

SLV: (3) I thought some young fool was listening to a lecture or something on a portable speaker but then I discovered she was just tolerating the noise of another young fool on the other side of the partition listening to his own voice speaking on a video he was watching on a screen ... or was it his twin I don't know what was going on! All I know is it was in a library, which is a place where people go to read and reading is hard and we shouldn't have to be distracted by people's fuckuppery! 

To calm us all down here are some images from the 1962 RIBA Journal I was looking at (OR TRYING TO)

mildura 14-17 july

Wandering to the shops last night for cat food I saw a sunset and a big ugly building. As always, the sunset looked a whole lot more exciting IRL than in this photograph. But this is at least proof there was one. 

Today I am going to Mildura for the Writer's Festival, I will be on a panel, it will be an experience. 

 

Later Thursday:

I am sinisterly attracted to the country/ regions for some reason, but I am also hotly resentful and always on guard when I am there. I feel like I got to Mildura early - when we were on the bus that took us to the aircraft at Tullamarine, and some guy on his phone had to stop in the doorway of the bus to finish his phone call holding up everyone else who was trying to disembark. It's so unfair to feel that way but he was a dick and he was going to Mildura, you know. 

I got a taxi into town with four other people, don't ask me how, they said I could pile in if I wanted. They were only in Mildura for three hours (!). One of them was English I gather. I sat next to him in the back and he was kind of immobile and unyielding, you know, usually you yield a bit when you sit next to a stranger, I did, but he was English. 

Now I am in my accommodation and I appreciate why they didn't give me details of the address until the last minute, it was only because I'd then look it up on google map and go 'nuh-uh'. But really it's fine. I mean if I had to live here the rest of my life I might not be so pleased but for a few days, sure. It'll be fun, like camping out, right? Right? 

Saturday morning feelz:

So, yesterday was quite extraordinary really (so was Thursday night) in terms of the remarkable networks I established (?) and people I spoke to who - I'll give you one example just to show you how crazy so many things were - I sat next to someone at the concert last night and made a stupid small-talk comment about how the stage set up (mainly, the many guitars) reminded me of a school concert, and she replied that she had managed school concerts, professionally, for twenty years. I said you must have thought I was trolling you or something with that comment. She said yes that did occur to me. 

There were other stranger things but I don't want to go into it deeply as it would be betraying confidences. 

What I will say is that while I was slightly confused about why I was here, it doesn't matter, it has been an entirely positive experience really, even the silly bits, the annoying bits. I am very, very positive about the Mildura Writer's Festival!

I'm about to go out into the Mildura morning and visit the market, I'll get back to you about the next bits, they haven't happened yet. 

Saturday afternoon:

The market was totally a food market, with mainly fruit, dried fruit, bread etc - really nice for locals and a nice thing to visit but I only bought some dried peaches and apricots. When I say 'only' - I like those things. This seems to be the only picture I took there, and really I was just photographing the beautiful big white dog in the middle. 

Do you like pelicans? Because then I went to the river and sat down and looked at pelicans for a while, though the sun on the water was pretty dazzling.

Then a quick visit to Junkie Paradise

This building (above) also has 'fuck 2020' written on its side. The building below is just a cool looking house. 

As is this

as is this

Today's sessions were great, but really made me appreciate I don't have the fucking stamina and to be fair I never did. But if I haven't already said so - I totally endorse the Mildura Writer's Festival.  

Sunday morning

That said, I will be pleased to get out of here. Last night I didn't drink a drop but this morning I feel hungover with a velvet fog voice to match. There is one more event to attend and thence to the airport. I am slightly nervous about getting the taxi I need to the airport but otherwise I'm ready to gthooh. Not because I don't really like it, I do, I just feel completely overstimulated, I need to lie in a dark room for a day! 

(Later: I didn't quite do that but I did wind down appropriately)

the princess

Last night I semi-watched probably half of a film called The Princess, with the sound turned down. It's a kind of a fantasy action film that seems to involve a lot of stabbing with long swords and either falling or dangling out of castle windows. Incredibly skilful in terms of the camerawork and the, I guess, choreography. I wikipedia'd it a little and it seems that the notion is that there are two princesses, one has been promised to some evil guy, as a bride, but she's not up for it and he decides that if he can't have the kingdom via marriage he's just going to take it over anyway. So she runs through the castle killing off all his henchpeople in terrible ways. I kind of feel sorry for the henchpeople, they're just doing their jobs, it's not personal. Anyway I suppose we're meant to be mainly interested in the princess. As mentioned there's a second princess who is also in danger and the king and queen and etc. 

I admit I had the sound turned down so I wasn't exactly fully engaged. I turned it off about half way through (I'm guessing). I don't even know why I'm mentioning it except that I'm just really enjoying having a big fat fuck off television in my living room. I am watching a lot of bad old shows just because they're big and in colour. I am also amazed by the ads. It's been so long since I watched tv ads and they're intensely novel (actually I should be careful. Watching tv ads in Warrnambool last year got me aware of the Homicide DVD series). Whether it's the shows I watch or just the way tv is now, the ads are totally for old, old, old people. Older than me. Simplicity Funerals kind of old. 

Speaking of old and ridiculous, I have found another Finnish band to love. Tamara Luonto. (When I say I found them, that's a lie. Spotify found them. Played them right after the Ninni Forever Band). They only have a single, a cassette, and a so-called single on spotify i.e. not a real single. I mean they're not Pintandwefall but that 'Made in China' single really has all the ingredients I love, the sound of it. I have no idea what it's about though. The video doesn't help - the video tells a story about a woman who gets some chinese food delivered and over a few days has a relationship with the woman who delivered it. 

In other news, I saw Wendy Hughes. 

I know she's died. It was in Homicide. 

To be honest I didn't recognise her till I saw her name in the closing credits. Of course she's completely unmistakeable. It's a very ineffectual part, only one scene I think. Not really sure what it's supposed to be for.

Here's one more interesting thing that I can't really say much more about. It's a Housing Commission publication, very handmade (roneoed except for the cover) about concrete houses. Just look at that woman. What is with her head?  

I completely do not understand that head at all. Do you? Is there some way of looking at it that makes sense? Is she wearing some kind of Chico Marx hat with a sun visor? Or does she just have a peaked skull and a huge nose (and no eyes)? 

Also isn't she kind of tiny for that house? Also, is she balancing on the point of one foot? 

did everything i set out to do

Essentially, I wrote 2500 words today, on two different projects - a book chapter and a conference paper - though 'wrote' is possibly the wrong word - 'assembled' might be better. I added in these words and made them make sense in the right order, more or less. I hope that's good enough. By the way, the day's not over yet so who knows. I watched an episode of Homicide called 'Love is a Silver Chain' which has this great shot of a woodyard entrance - with Briquette ads/signs:

This is yet another Jacki Weaver episode. This time around she plays a fairly dippy marijuana addict called Peta. 

As you can see she is not happy to see the police. 

So there are scenes here where the murderer (that's not a spoiler, he does the murder before the opening credits) plays with his band in a club called I think the Love-In or something like that. 

I am sorry to report that the band, not sure if we're told their name, play so quietly in the club it's difficult to tell for a while that they are actually meant to be playing. And perhaps they're miming. It's really not clear. 

That's George Mallaby there I think on the left about to quiz Peta about her... I can't remember. I wasn't terribly engaged with this whole thing, to be frank with you. 

Then I watched another one where a girl gets murdered in the first two minutes and I'm just like... nah. So I put in the codes to persuade my newish tv that I actually do have a Stan account, an iView account and an SBS catch up or whatever it's called account, and still none of them had anything to watch. THERE IS NOTHING. Oh, wait, there's Phoenix.