Je reviens

Hav ebeen back in Sydney for some 30 hours; roughly 7/8ths of my brain has also arrived, with depth perception the only major hold-out. Flight was 2/3rds empty so I got 3 seats to myself. That and 2 lovely big blue sleeping pills meant 8 hours of solid sleep. Hoo woo--um, er--woo hoo!

And here's a hip-hip-hooray for querrelle, who delivered on his promise of a memorable welcome home! I managed to cross the threshhold chez moi about 60 minutes after touchdown at SYD (including disembarkation, customs and quarantine (I brought 2 boxes of PG Tips orange pekoe tea wimme; Aussie tea is harsh), and the train to Town Hall. With one honkin' big suitcase, one smaller shoulder bag and my computer bag on me back. Must be some kind of record...

So querrelle was toweling down after a shower when I arrived. Much smooching and hugging. A lovely shower for me. And immediately back to bed, though not to sleep.

Sorry folks--no play-by-play. But 'twas fab, and it kept us distracted until time for lunch. I will say I recommend sex as a way to stay awake and mitigate jet lag :)

We wandered out and lunched, then went to the Korean baths in Kings Cross--querrelle'd never been, and he was suitably impressed. We ordered pizza for dinner and I passed out at 730pm, sleeping soundly. Unless you count my staggering out into the living room around 11pm, whinging "aren't you coming to bed???" before zonking out. Again.

Tonight it's din-din with Scott (and perhaps Baz and Gordie too). All of whom I've missed quite a lot.

And now I'm missing toneyvr and the girls in Hongcouver! I guess having 2 groups of folks who love me and want me to stick around makes my life a big woo-hoo!

gay marriage in Ontario

Yup, the courts ordered the province of Ontario to immediately start issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples. Which they did. And to retroactively any same-sex marriages conducted by churches that perform same-sex marriages. Which they also did.

And 2 guys jumped right on it and got married to one another. Today. Legally.

While I doubt I'd ever do it, I'm darned glad to have the right.

Most days I'm grateful to be Canadian. Today even more so.

For more info, click here/ Pour l'info additioniel, cliquez ici.

shower meme redux

à la ultrabithorax:

1. Dylan Thomas wrote about "the barrier of common language". As someone who's spent time in three Anglophone nations, is it you're opinion that (aside from small differences in dialect: "flannel" vs. "washcloth", that sort of thing) we are really able to understand one another when we speak? If not, how much do you think is lost on American (NZ, Canadian) ears?

Well, having lived in the US, Canada and Australia--and spent a fair bit of time in Ireland as a kid, not to mention lots of Oirish accents throughout my life--I'd say that some dialects are cross-culturally understood better than others. Prior to living in Oz, I'd never been in an English-speaking milieu and not understood the local dialect. But most Aussies use very local words (arvo=afternoon for example) whose meanings can often be surmised. But sometimes the turn of phrase has such a different cadence and melody I find myself asking folks to repeat themselves--and they often ask me to do the same.

I'd say Canucks and Americans have quite a lot in common, though Canajuns tend to understand their own local English (it varies from region to region within Canada), "CBC" Canadian English and "American TV" English. Of course it's all informed by one's one experiences with English--I seemed to do quite well in Newfoundland, whereas my British ex-lover was frequently lost. Speaking of 'im, waddya at dere toneyvr?

2. Is it possible for a musical style or tradition to be exhausted (i.e., it's possibilities and expressive capability completely explored, leaving nothing new to be said with that vocabulary) or do they, in fact, have "no insides" and are always simultaneously immanent in any composition? I'm thinking of early European forms like plainsong and the madrigal: if you were to write a song expressing the horror of World War II, could you do it in a motet? However, I'm also thinking about more recent forms like the blues box or the verse-chorus-verse pop song.

I think music is both derivative and iterative. Conventions of style mean we can recognize and make sense of musical forms/idioms that resonate--even upon hearing a piece the first time. But some musicians take these conventions and flout them--rendering works that resonate and surprise. Two that come to mind are Ashley MacIsaac's "Hello How are You Today" CD of several years back (metal, Cape Breton traditional, a bit of hip-hop), and Alannis Morissette (pick any album), who takes pop melody and combines interesting and complex rhyme schemes for her lyrics. This year's winner of Eurovision--"Every Way That I Can" by Sertan Ereber--took traditional Turkish, Europop and hip-hop and melding them.

Anything can be run into the ground--like the wailing shrew style of female pop vocalising--but so too can it be tweaked and enriched.

Which probably has a lot to do with creative talent, which is (methinks) something somewhat different from performative talent. The End

3. Have we come back to an appreciation of the decorative (symmetry, color, ornamental detail, facture specific to a piece for the sake of pleasing the eye) in visual art? I ask because I think we're coming to the end of a long period of conceptualist domination when I think there really wasn't one . . . or am I mistaken?

I didn't ge the gay design/style gene. I got the travelling, cooking and literature genes. And perhaps 2 of the "say-behind-your-back-what-I'd never-say-to-your-face-if-I-meant-it" genes.

4. Does an ideal date consist of: (a) a game of pickup basketball (b) a night at CBGB and you watch the sun come up on the East River or (c) Something unexpected and interesting for dinner followed by a cuddle and A Touch of Evil on TV? These are not exclusive but meant to represent broad classes of dates.

I loathe basketball. Probably because I'm a leprechaun (1,67m or 5'6"). I used to do the all-night/all-weekend thing, but not for many moons. Surprise is always good, so long as the food's not so esoteric that I leave the table hungry. Cuddling is great: a great root followed by cuddling is even better.

What's A Touch of Evil? Seriously....

5. Vanilla beans are the pods of an orchid called Vanilla planifolia, which is one of the thousands varieties of orchids. (The name Vanilla is sometimes used to refer to "the orchid of flavour s.") Vanillin is the component responsible for its fragrance and taste; it should not be confused with the chemically synthesized substitute with the same name. (Natural vanillin can be also found in asparagus, asafetida and wild roses.) Because vanillin appears as a powdery substance when the beans are cured, there is some debate over whether vanilla is a true spice, derived from a seed, or an essential oil. Bachelor Number One, if I were a quart of French vanilla ice cream (creme anglais to which the seeds of the vanilla pod are added before non-quescent freezing), what would you do to me?

Unlike most things, I am *so* vanilla, when it comes to ice cream. So I'd scoop you up, lick and slurp you up, belch and fall asleep happily. With dribble on my chin.

BTW, you give great question ultrabithorax