Every now and then, for no real reason that could be justified to normal people, I find myself standing or sitting on someone's grave.
It's my penchant for wandering through graveyards, you see. If you don't do the boring thing and stick to the paths, eventually you're going to be traipsing through the graves. And, of course, if there isn't a chair to sit on when the need arises...
You have to be careful about which graves you choose for impromptu seats, though, as some of them aren't as stable as you'd expect a huge, ostentatious slab of stone-like stuff to be. Fortunately, I've yet to actually fall into someone's final resting place, although I have been known to occasionally jump into a plot to rearrange the pieces of a fallen tombstone. It freaked the heck out of the Wiccan who was with me at the time, what with it being the Southern Hemisphere's version of Samhain and all.
Anyway, it turns out that the friend I'm staying with in Canberra lives just down the street from a lovely cemetery. And I mean lovely. The Woden Cemetery is like a charming formal garden with dead people in it. It's beautiful, restive, full of colourful trees and flower beds... I went for a nice relaxing walk through the cemetery this afternoon and was taken by just how pretty it all was. Even the mausoleum was beautiful, framed by trees and lit by the afternoon sun.
At some point I decided I wanted to draw a picture of something that caught my eye - A contrast in graves with a hug black slab of granite (half filled - the other half still waiting for it's owner to die) right next to a grave so plane it was marked by a single white cross. It didn't even manage to have a mound of earth. In order to draw this contrast I, ah, "borrowed" the edge of another edifice for a seat. Maria someone or other. I suppose I should have apologised to her for taking up her time working on such a dodgy drawing. I've never claimed to be a good artist, which is probably just as well in the grand scheme of things.
I was on the verge of sitting on a closer grave (another Maria) when I decided the fact that the top slab was missing and the edges looked like they were about to collapse into the gaping hole at any moment was a bit discouraging.
It's a lovely cemetery, but some of the graves could do with a bit of repair work. They make things a bit too easy for the zombies, if you know what I mean.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Taronga Park Zoo has bad food
I believe in fair warning:
If travelling to Teronga Park Zoo in the forseeable future, bring a packed lunch. The food is definitely of the slightly-low-market-theme-park variety.
That's why I hate places where all of the food outlets are owned by the same people - they know you won't go somewhere else if you don't like what they have, so they can just offer you whatever they feel like and you're stuck with it.
If travelling to Teronga Park Zoo in the forseeable future, bring a packed lunch. The food is definitely of the slightly-low-market-theme-park variety.
That's why I hate places where all of the food outlets are owned by the same people - they know you won't go somewhere else if you don't like what they have, so they can just offer you whatever they feel like and you're stuck with it.
Radioactive Museum Fatigue
I'm a bit of a museum junky. My "must do" tickets on every holiday involves the gardens and the museums (second tier ticket items include art galleries and zoos). So, on my first real day of holidays in Sydney, I went to the Chinese gardens and the Powerhouse Museum as my major activities for the day.
The Chinese gardens were absolutely lovely. I enjoyed every minute I spent there, and my only disappointment was that I hadn't brought a sketchbook. I can't draw to save myself but for some reason, when I'm travelling, I like to pretend I have a talent for line drawing in ink. This really means I just sketch bad drawings with a Bic pen, but it makes me happy, so what the heck. Anyway, no sketch book on Monday, so just me and my camera. And lots of pretty things. I love the way Chinese gardens make the most of a limited space - the way they use walls, buildings and levels to create different views at every turn. They put hours of garden wandering goodness into a space smaller than an office building's footprint.
On the one hand, I got there nice and early only to find out they didn't open until 9:30. On the other hand, when they did open, the cash registers weren't working so I got in for free. Good stuff.
The next stop for the day was the Powerhouse Museum...
Have I mentioned that I'm a museum junky? I really love museums. It's almost at the stage now where I've seen most of the things a museum could possibly exhibit, and I just go to see the museum itself - the way it's designed, how it shows its wares, that sort of thing. Oh, sure, I love looking at the stuff, too. I learn something new every time (which is the point, really), but I do regard the museum itself as part of the museum experience.
The Powerhouse museum was...
Noisy.
Annoyingly so.
Oh, there were groups of school children and parents with kids of all ages, but they weren't too noisy, all things considered. Most of the time the museum managed to drown them out.
Every room made noise. There were some rooms that had "sound scapes" (like the 80s exhibit and the "Frock Stars" look at fashion week), and then there were rooms with video components that were constantly yabbering on in the background. And I mean CONSTANTLY. They would keep playing the "Hey! Come look at me!" intro over and over and over again until someone used them - and then they would make a different range of noises. At no time, tough, would they ever stop making noise.
While I was trying to look at the poorly lit museum casings with musical instruments (which were hidden in the corner as though the museum was vaguely embarrassed about the museum-like presentation), there was a children's interactive area five steps away with the most annoying voice constantly inviting me to "swing my hips around and round". In order to stand still long enough to take in the display that interested me, I had to listen to this stupid thing about eight or ten times. It was not pleasant.
And it was like that all over the museum - "interactive" displays calling out to you whether you were there to hear them or not. At one point, I found myself standing in a position where I could hear three of these darn things running their intros on a constant loop. No one was looking at them or using them. "Don't come too close! I'm radioactive!" No fear of that - I was the only person in the room, and all I wanted to do was read the information on the displays that weren't yelling at me.
The one person who could hear them just wanted them to shut up.
It usually takes me a few hours before I get "museum fatigue" - that feeling where your feet hurt, you can't really focus on what you're looking at and you feel an overwhelming urge to go sit down somewhere and look at nothing for a while. The Powerhouse Museum managed to push me into the museum fatigue stage much sooner. I don't usually find myself wanting to get out of a museum so I can get some peace and quiet.
Look, I know the Powerhouse is aiming at being a more active, interactive, exciting, "non-boring" museum than the stereotypical model most people think of when they think "museum". I know they have always gone out of their way to try to engage children and teenagers, rather than museum boffins. But it doesn't have to be that annoying, does it?
Surely they can make sure the darn things only talk when someone is standing in front of them for more than a few seconds? I know kids these days aren't in the same room (metaphorically, if not physically) for more than a flashing moment, but they've got these signs next to stuff, you see, and occasionally someone must pause long enough to read them. Surely they can be nice to those poor souls who occasionally stand still?
The Chinese gardens were absolutely lovely. I enjoyed every minute I spent there, and my only disappointment was that I hadn't brought a sketchbook. I can't draw to save myself but for some reason, when I'm travelling, I like to pretend I have a talent for line drawing in ink. This really means I just sketch bad drawings with a Bic pen, but it makes me happy, so what the heck. Anyway, no sketch book on Monday, so just me and my camera. And lots of pretty things. I love the way Chinese gardens make the most of a limited space - the way they use walls, buildings and levels to create different views at every turn. They put hours of garden wandering goodness into a space smaller than an office building's footprint.
On the one hand, I got there nice and early only to find out they didn't open until 9:30. On the other hand, when they did open, the cash registers weren't working so I got in for free. Good stuff.
The next stop for the day was the Powerhouse Museum...
Have I mentioned that I'm a museum junky? I really love museums. It's almost at the stage now where I've seen most of the things a museum could possibly exhibit, and I just go to see the museum itself - the way it's designed, how it shows its wares, that sort of thing. Oh, sure, I love looking at the stuff, too. I learn something new every time (which is the point, really), but I do regard the museum itself as part of the museum experience.
The Powerhouse museum was...
Noisy.
Annoyingly so.
Oh, there were groups of school children and parents with kids of all ages, but they weren't too noisy, all things considered. Most of the time the museum managed to drown them out.
Every room made noise. There were some rooms that had "sound scapes" (like the 80s exhibit and the "Frock Stars" look at fashion week), and then there were rooms with video components that were constantly yabbering on in the background. And I mean CONSTANTLY. They would keep playing the "Hey! Come look at me!" intro over and over and over again until someone used them - and then they would make a different range of noises. At no time, tough, would they ever stop making noise.
While I was trying to look at the poorly lit museum casings with musical instruments (which were hidden in the corner as though the museum was vaguely embarrassed about the museum-like presentation), there was a children's interactive area five steps away with the most annoying voice constantly inviting me to "swing my hips around and round". In order to stand still long enough to take in the display that interested me, I had to listen to this stupid thing about eight or ten times. It was not pleasant.
And it was like that all over the museum - "interactive" displays calling out to you whether you were there to hear them or not. At one point, I found myself standing in a position where I could hear three of these darn things running their intros on a constant loop. No one was looking at them or using them. "Don't come too close! I'm radioactive!" No fear of that - I was the only person in the room, and all I wanted to do was read the information on the displays that weren't yelling at me.
The one person who could hear them just wanted them to shut up.
It usually takes me a few hours before I get "museum fatigue" - that feeling where your feet hurt, you can't really focus on what you're looking at and you feel an overwhelming urge to go sit down somewhere and look at nothing for a while. The Powerhouse Museum managed to push me into the museum fatigue stage much sooner. I don't usually find myself wanting to get out of a museum so I can get some peace and quiet.
Look, I know the Powerhouse is aiming at being a more active, interactive, exciting, "non-boring" museum than the stereotypical model most people think of when they think "museum". I know they have always gone out of their way to try to engage children and teenagers, rather than museum boffins. But it doesn't have to be that annoying, does it?
Surely they can make sure the darn things only talk when someone is standing in front of them for more than a few seconds? I know kids these days aren't in the same room (metaphorically, if not physically) for more than a flashing moment, but they've got these signs next to stuff, you see, and occasionally someone must pause long enough to read them. Surely they can be nice to those poor souls who occasionally stand still?
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Ruudi - a rambling review.
Previously, I wasted valuable time talking about my attempts to buy some Estonian DVDs.
Ruudi was my attempt at buying a slightly "older" children's film (or family movie) that I hoped would be enjoyable enough to watch several times, and I'm quite pleased with how well it worked out.
Ruudi is a young boy (say, 8ish) who is absolutely Viking obsessed. He lives in a coastal town in Saaremaa with his single mother, Karmen - the town's sole police constable. His best friend is Viki, a girl who lives in the same building and is a few years older than he is, and they often play Viking related games together. On the outskirts of the town is a house built in the old style that used to belong to an old man called Orm, who fancied himself a Viking and encouraged Ruudi to believe there was Viking treasure "buried" just off the coast. Since his death, Ruudi and Viki had often looked into the windows of his house wondering if there was a clue to the location of the Viking treasure...
At the start of the film, everyone in town heads over to the fair (not entirely sure where), where a real-live honest-to-goodness replica Viking ship is taking boys and their fathers for joyrides. The ship's crew clings to the "male only" tradition of Viking ships. Our young hero lines up, ecstatic at the idea of a trip on a "real" viikingilaev, only to be turned away until he can "find" his father. The man at the boat completely misunderstands Ruudi's shy attempts to tell him that he hasn't got a father, and simply tells him to go away and come back with his father next time.
So, with the help of Viki and (somewhat reluctantly) Viki's father, Sass, Ruudi sets out trying to procure a father for next time.
Viki, who is quite fond of watching the odd beauty competition, suggests a "Big Daddy Comptetion" - the winner gets to be the father of a sweet, young, blonde boy. Er, and, by association, kind of also gets the sweet, young, blonde boy's mother. Fortunately it takes his mother some time to learn about this competition.
In the mean time, old Orm's long lost son turns up, the news of his father's death having finally reached him in New Zealand. He's a nice enough bloke, who quickly decides he likes the challenge of making the local police-woman smile for a change. Unfortunately, he moves into his father's house: the Viking Villa. This is a problem, you see, because it turns out that a sweet, young, blonde boy isn't really a good enough prize to attract any entrants into the Big Daddy Competition, so the kids decided to promise a Viking treasure as well. To get the Viking treasure, they have to find Orm's treasure maps. To get the treasure maps, they need to get that guy out of the viikingivilla.
Some hijinks ensue. Not necessarily hilarious (although I was quite amused by the "I'll be old age, you can be poverty" routine), but definitely sweet.
Then Ruudi has the opportunity to spend some quality time with Enn (Orm's son) and decides he doesn't mind the guy, and doesn't want to scare him into leaving after all. Oh, and he also finds some Viking coins in Orm's house, which factors in a series of events that becomes the Somewhat Significant Subplot.
The Somewhat Significant Subplot involves a 13 year old boy Viki quite fancies and his attempts to make some money by selling antiques to a couple of dodgy vendors. Viki gives him one of the coins and asks him to find out what he can about it. He sells it to the dodgy vendors, telling them he has heaps of them (the advertised Viking Treasure, you see), and they decide to steal the lot and make a mint.
In the meantime, the Big Daddy Contest must go ahead. I won't tell you who the entrants are (there must be some surprises left in the world), but I will tell you that a) Ruudi's mother finally finds out, and is not impressed and b) it doesn't go well for Enn's attempts to make her smile.
Then, suddenly, the Somewhat Significant Subplot becomes the actual plot, and there are bad guys, kidnappings and violence and mayhem. Family friendly violence and mayhem, but violence and mayhem none the less. This was just when you were beginning to wonder why they were bothering with the subplot anyway.
It is a sweet little family film, so I'm probably not giving much away by telling you it all ends happily in the end. Although, I can't say I'm convinced the bad guys actually got a comeuppance worthy of the kidnapping, violence and mayhem.
It was a nice film, thoroughly enjoyable as what it is. Fun for the whole family. Well, unless your family has any of those pesky teenagers who are in the "I can't stand sweet little family movies" stage.
It does seem to have a little bit of an identity crisis, though. The heart of the film was really a story about a boy finding a father, but they often downplayed the burgeoning relationship between the two. There was also a hint of romance between the boy's mother and the new daddy which wasn't quite explored as well as it could have been...
And then there was that whole subplot thing. The ads, packaging and trailers really emphasised the "goofy bad guys out to steal treasure" aspect of the film. In fact, I was quite surprised when the movie turned out to be a sweet story about a boy finding a father instead of a slap-stick comedy about a boy thwarting bad guys. I almost didn't buy it because I thought that was the plot, but I was curious about the whole Viking thing and the "big daddy contest" (also not as slap-stick as I was expecting).
And yet, the "bad guys stealing treasure" subplot was so minor throughout most of the film that it felt like it was included to try to keep young boys raised on American movies interested enough to get past the "maybe you could come over for dinner?" moments. It seemed almost tacked on, right up until it became a central part of the last act. But, still, even then it seemed almost too contrived. You felt as if there could have been another, less tacky way to get the boy's mother and potential father to reconcile their differences. Maybe one that actually involved them touching at some point.
Okay, yes, there was some touching at the end, but it was too far at the end. I felt robbed of a potential romantic plot thread. The part of me that occasionally craves a nice romantic comedy just wanted to see a few more "moments" between the two characters. Maybe at least one "oh, thank god you're still alive" embrace or something.
At the end it all tied together nicely and it was a lovely movie and I would happily watch it again... but I couldn't help but feel the film was missing pieces along the way. Another two or three scenes between the "family" would have been nice. A little more foreshadowing of the threat posed by the bad guys would have been good, too. The kidnapping, violence and mayhem seemed to come out of nowhere. One moment the bad guys are bumbling con men, the next moment they're practically gangsters. It was somewhat unprecedented, and felt like we had switched films for a moment.
That said, I quite enjoyed it. I'd recommend it to anyone fond of nice family films and capable of either speaking Estonian or reading subtitles. Also, anyone with a Viking obsessed kid.
Ruudi was my attempt at buying a slightly "older" children's film (or family movie) that I hoped would be enjoyable enough to watch several times, and I'm quite pleased with how well it worked out.
Ruudi is a young boy (say, 8ish) who is absolutely Viking obsessed. He lives in a coastal town in Saaremaa with his single mother, Karmen - the town's sole police constable. His best friend is Viki, a girl who lives in the same building and is a few years older than he is, and they often play Viking related games together. On the outskirts of the town is a house built in the old style that used to belong to an old man called Orm, who fancied himself a Viking and encouraged Ruudi to believe there was Viking treasure "buried" just off the coast. Since his death, Ruudi and Viki had often looked into the windows of his house wondering if there was a clue to the location of the Viking treasure...
At the start of the film, everyone in town heads over to the fair (not entirely sure where), where a real-live honest-to-goodness replica Viking ship is taking boys and their fathers for joyrides. The ship's crew clings to the "male only" tradition of Viking ships. Our young hero lines up, ecstatic at the idea of a trip on a "real" viikingilaev, only to be turned away until he can "find" his father. The man at the boat completely misunderstands Ruudi's shy attempts to tell him that he hasn't got a father, and simply tells him to go away and come back with his father next time.
So, with the help of Viki and (somewhat reluctantly) Viki's father, Sass, Ruudi sets out trying to procure a father for next time.
Viki, who is quite fond of watching the odd beauty competition, suggests a "Big Daddy Comptetion" - the winner gets to be the father of a sweet, young, blonde boy. Er, and, by association, kind of also gets the sweet, young, blonde boy's mother. Fortunately it takes his mother some time to learn about this competition.
In the mean time, old Orm's long lost son turns up, the news of his father's death having finally reached him in New Zealand. He's a nice enough bloke, who quickly decides he likes the challenge of making the local police-woman smile for a change. Unfortunately, he moves into his father's house: the Viking Villa. This is a problem, you see, because it turns out that a sweet, young, blonde boy isn't really a good enough prize to attract any entrants into the Big Daddy Competition, so the kids decided to promise a Viking treasure as well. To get the Viking treasure, they have to find Orm's treasure maps. To get the treasure maps, they need to get that guy out of the viikingivilla.
Some hijinks ensue. Not necessarily hilarious (although I was quite amused by the "I'll be old age, you can be poverty" routine), but definitely sweet.
Then Ruudi has the opportunity to spend some quality time with Enn (Orm's son) and decides he doesn't mind the guy, and doesn't want to scare him into leaving after all. Oh, and he also finds some Viking coins in Orm's house, which factors in a series of events that becomes the Somewhat Significant Subplot.
The Somewhat Significant Subplot involves a 13 year old boy Viki quite fancies and his attempts to make some money by selling antiques to a couple of dodgy vendors. Viki gives him one of the coins and asks him to find out what he can about it. He sells it to the dodgy vendors, telling them he has heaps of them (the advertised Viking Treasure, you see), and they decide to steal the lot and make a mint.
In the meantime, the Big Daddy Contest must go ahead. I won't tell you who the entrants are (there must be some surprises left in the world), but I will tell you that a) Ruudi's mother finally finds out, and is not impressed and b) it doesn't go well for Enn's attempts to make her smile.
Then, suddenly, the Somewhat Significant Subplot becomes the actual plot, and there are bad guys, kidnappings and violence and mayhem. Family friendly violence and mayhem, but violence and mayhem none the less. This was just when you were beginning to wonder why they were bothering with the subplot anyway.
It is a sweet little family film, so I'm probably not giving much away by telling you it all ends happily in the end. Although, I can't say I'm convinced the bad guys actually got a comeuppance worthy of the kidnapping, violence and mayhem.
It was a nice film, thoroughly enjoyable as what it is. Fun for the whole family. Well, unless your family has any of those pesky teenagers who are in the "I can't stand sweet little family movies" stage.
It does seem to have a little bit of an identity crisis, though. The heart of the film was really a story about a boy finding a father, but they often downplayed the burgeoning relationship between the two. There was also a hint of romance between the boy's mother and the new daddy which wasn't quite explored as well as it could have been...
And then there was that whole subplot thing. The ads, packaging and trailers really emphasised the "goofy bad guys out to steal treasure" aspect of the film. In fact, I was quite surprised when the movie turned out to be a sweet story about a boy finding a father instead of a slap-stick comedy about a boy thwarting bad guys. I almost didn't buy it because I thought that was the plot, but I was curious about the whole Viking thing and the "big daddy contest" (also not as slap-stick as I was expecting).
And yet, the "bad guys stealing treasure" subplot was so minor throughout most of the film that it felt like it was included to try to keep young boys raised on American movies interested enough to get past the "maybe you could come over for dinner?" moments. It seemed almost tacked on, right up until it became a central part of the last act. But, still, even then it seemed almost too contrived. You felt as if there could have been another, less tacky way to get the boy's mother and potential father to reconcile their differences. Maybe one that actually involved them touching at some point.
Okay, yes, there was some touching at the end, but it was too far at the end. I felt robbed of a potential romantic plot thread. The part of me that occasionally craves a nice romantic comedy just wanted to see a few more "moments" between the two characters. Maybe at least one "oh, thank god you're still alive" embrace or something.
At the end it all tied together nicely and it was a lovely movie and I would happily watch it again... but I couldn't help but feel the film was missing pieces along the way. Another two or three scenes between the "family" would have been nice. A little more foreshadowing of the threat posed by the bad guys would have been good, too. The kidnapping, violence and mayhem seemed to come out of nowhere. One moment the bad guys are bumbling con men, the next moment they're practically gangsters. It was somewhat unprecedented, and felt like we had switched films for a moment.
That said, I quite enjoyed it. I'd recommend it to anyone fond of nice family films and capable of either speaking Estonian or reading subtitles. Also, anyone with a Viking obsessed kid.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Films!
At last! Finally! Other such time based exclamations!
Filmipood and Apollo have finally consummated their union, allowing me to purchase Estonian DVDs through my favourite Estonian bookshop. This makes me very happy.
And to think that, some time ago, I firmly believed that there should be a demarcation between books and videos when it came to specialty stores! After all, you never see a DVD store selling books, so book stores should avoid selling DVDs. Take a look at what happened to music stores once they started selling DVDs. These days, the music is a secondary consideration, with most shelf space dedicated to the other medium. I wouldn't want the same thing to happen to books.
Fortunately, it seems we don't put enough faith in the ability of books to stick around regardless of how often we declare reading is dead. It seems people will always buy books (if only because they can't think of a decent mothers' day present), so bookshops never really need to lose shelf-space to other media. Sure, certain genres of books may be constantly under threat, and your favourite author may drop out of sight, but those books are being pushed out by other, more popular books, not CDs and DVDs.
For some time now, I've had no trouble at all purchasing books from Estonia for my crazy "let's teach yourself Estonian" project through the awesome Apollo. Even when I was actually in Estonia, I still found Apollo to be my favourite book store. My only complaint was that they didn't sell movies and television series, which are also important for learning languages.
In spite of my amazing librarian powers, I had been unsuccessful at finding an online store that would sell DVDs to Australia. Not from lack of tracking down people to ask, but more from lack of having people respond to my emails. Asking questions can only get you so far, at some point you need to have someone answer you. So, while I was in Estonia last year, I made a point of finding the names of some DVD chains in the belief that I would be able to track down their websites upon my return to Oz. I should have made a point of buying DVDs, but I had already taken up too much space in my luggage with books.
Filmipood was the most logical candidate, but they didn't obviously send stuff overseas. They finally responded to an email enquiry saying they would ship to Australia, it would just cost extra.
Huzzah! Thought I, and promptly started using my amazing librarian powers (and IMDB.com) to try to track down the titles of DVDs which would be most useful as entry points. I don't have buckets of money, so I wanted to get as much bang for my buck as I could manage. I wanted television series for the continuation of characters and potential redundancy of vocabulary, as well as children's films for the potential simplicity of vocabulary, as well as something I'll actually enjoy watching so that I can watch it multiple times and just absorb the vocabulary instead of finding it a begrudging exercise.
Why, yes, I am applying Extensive Reading schemata to authentic video. Why do you ask? Oh, you didn't? Well, never mind.
Anyway, having done my research and narrowed the field down to three items on which I wanted to spend money, I tried to order them - only to find there was no way to change the delivery address to somewhere outside of Estonia, and no way to pay except to use one of the major banks in Estonian (of which I am not a member). This was disheartening, but for some reason they sent me an email with the details of the DVDs I almost ordered... and I noticed that email was also CCd to a department within Apollo!
"Aha!" says I, "Filmipood and Apollo are merged or merging!" No one seemed to think it was odd that I would say such a thing. I guess the people who sit near me are used to hearing me spout out such inanities apparently incongruously. Not long after that, I managed to find all of the DVDs I wanted through Apollo and order them without problems.
Ah, Apollo. Now all you need to do is start selling Estonian CDs and you will truly be the Amazon of Estonia.
Anyway, over the weekend I watched the first of my new stash of Eesti DVDs - A movie called Ruudi.
Review to follow.
Filmipood and Apollo have finally consummated their union, allowing me to purchase Estonian DVDs through my favourite Estonian bookshop. This makes me very happy.
And to think that, some time ago, I firmly believed that there should be a demarcation between books and videos when it came to specialty stores! After all, you never see a DVD store selling books, so book stores should avoid selling DVDs. Take a look at what happened to music stores once they started selling DVDs. These days, the music is a secondary consideration, with most shelf space dedicated to the other medium. I wouldn't want the same thing to happen to books.
Fortunately, it seems we don't put enough faith in the ability of books to stick around regardless of how often we declare reading is dead. It seems people will always buy books (if only because they can't think of a decent mothers' day present), so bookshops never really need to lose shelf-space to other media. Sure, certain genres of books may be constantly under threat, and your favourite author may drop out of sight, but those books are being pushed out by other, more popular books, not CDs and DVDs.
For some time now, I've had no trouble at all purchasing books from Estonia for my crazy "let's teach yourself Estonian" project through the awesome Apollo. Even when I was actually in Estonia, I still found Apollo to be my favourite book store. My only complaint was that they didn't sell movies and television series, which are also important for learning languages.
In spite of my amazing librarian powers, I had been unsuccessful at finding an online store that would sell DVDs to Australia. Not from lack of tracking down people to ask, but more from lack of having people respond to my emails. Asking questions can only get you so far, at some point you need to have someone answer you. So, while I was in Estonia last year, I made a point of finding the names of some DVD chains in the belief that I would be able to track down their websites upon my return to Oz. I should have made a point of buying DVDs, but I had already taken up too much space in my luggage with books.
Filmipood was the most logical candidate, but they didn't obviously send stuff overseas. They finally responded to an email enquiry saying they would ship to Australia, it would just cost extra.
Huzzah! Thought I, and promptly started using my amazing librarian powers (and IMDB.com) to try to track down the titles of DVDs which would be most useful as entry points. I don't have buckets of money, so I wanted to get as much bang for my buck as I could manage. I wanted television series for the continuation of characters and potential redundancy of vocabulary, as well as children's films for the potential simplicity of vocabulary, as well as something I'll actually enjoy watching so that I can watch it multiple times and just absorb the vocabulary instead of finding it a begrudging exercise.
Why, yes, I am applying Extensive Reading schemata to authentic video. Why do you ask? Oh, you didn't? Well, never mind.
Anyway, having done my research and narrowed the field down to three items on which I wanted to spend money, I tried to order them - only to find there was no way to change the delivery address to somewhere outside of Estonia, and no way to pay except to use one of the major banks in Estonian (of which I am not a member). This was disheartening, but for some reason they sent me an email with the details of the DVDs I almost ordered... and I noticed that email was also CCd to a department within Apollo!
"Aha!" says I, "Filmipood and Apollo are merged or merging!" No one seemed to think it was odd that I would say such a thing. I guess the people who sit near me are used to hearing me spout out such inanities apparently incongruously. Not long after that, I managed to find all of the DVDs I wanted through Apollo and order them without problems.
Ah, Apollo. Now all you need to do is start selling Estonian CDs and you will truly be the Amazon of Estonia.
Anyway, over the weekend I watched the first of my new stash of Eesti DVDs - A movie called Ruudi.
Review to follow.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Unstable buildings
Some time ago I indulged in a ham-fisted attempt to translate the classic Play School song "A House with a Floor" into Estonian. As often happens when I'm in the middle of a meeting, I decided it was worth my while trying to translate the same song into German*. More ham-fisted attempts follow:
Hier ist ein Haus mit einem Boden
Mit einem Boden
Mit einem Boden
Hier ist ein Haus mit einer Wand
Mit einer Wand
Mit einer Wand
Hier ist ein Haus mit einen Dach
Mit einem Dach
Mit einem Dach
(Hier ist ein Haus einstürzen)
Das ist nicht mehr ein Haus
Ist nicht mehr
Das ist nicht mehr ein Haus
*Just to clarify, I don't often think I should translate "A House with a Floor" into German while in meetings. I just often think anything at all would be more interesting than what I'm currently doing.
Hier ist ein Haus mit einem Boden
Mit einem Boden
Mit einem Boden
Hier ist ein Haus mit einer Wand
Mit einer Wand
Mit einer Wand
Hier ist ein Haus mit einen Dach
Mit einem Dach
Mit einem Dach
(Hier ist ein Haus einstürzen)
Das ist nicht mehr ein Haus
Ist nicht mehr
Das ist nicht mehr ein Haus
*Just to clarify, I don't often think I should translate "A House with a Floor" into German while in meetings. I just often think anything at all would be more interesting than what I'm currently doing.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
The Luck of the Aye Aye
I understand it all, now. The aye ayes truly are, in fact, omens of bad luck - just as the native Madagasy tribes thought they were.
I think, however, it probably depends on whether or not you insult them first.
Case in point:
On Monday, I wrote a post about how aye ayes were ugly, freaky looking things that would scare you silly if you bumped into one by accident.
Monday night I fainted (long story), hit my head on a brick wall and knocked myself out. They had to X-ray my neck and keep me overnight in the hospital to make sure I hadn't given myself a serious head wound.
I'm fine, but my face is decidedly grazed - which lead me to make the comment to one concerned friend: "I'm okay, just a bit ugly".
So, I go on record as saying that this supposed omen of bad luck is "ugly", and that very night...!
A coincidence? I think not.
Don't mess with the aye ayes.
I think, however, it probably depends on whether or not you insult them first.
Case in point:
On Monday, I wrote a post about how aye ayes were ugly, freaky looking things that would scare you silly if you bumped into one by accident.
Monday night I fainted (long story), hit my head on a brick wall and knocked myself out. They had to X-ray my neck and keep me overnight in the hospital to make sure I hadn't given myself a serious head wound.
I'm fine, but my face is decidedly grazed - which lead me to make the comment to one concerned friend: "I'm okay, just a bit ugly".
So, I go on record as saying that this supposed omen of bad luck is "ugly", and that very night...!
A coincidence? I think not.
Don't mess with the aye ayes.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Aye aye, Capy... er, cavy
Aye ayes.
Hideously ugly and decidedly creepy little critters.
I was happily trawling through Zooborns the other day, looking at some of the new and wonderful what-nots born into zoos in the past few months, when I came across these:
No, those aren't aye ayes. Those are cavies. Essentially giant rodents, cavies are like rabbits which forgot they weren't kangaroos. Yes, I know rabbits aren't rodents, but rather lagamorphs. That doesn't seem to stop the cavies from looking like rabbits which forgot they weren't kangaroos. The fact that they are neither lagamorphs nor macropodidae is irrelevent.
Anyway, I was looking at this picture, thinking: "My, that's one of the oddest looking critters I've seen in quite a while". And then I scrolled down to the next animal.
You know how, sometimes, you see something so startling that you can't help letting lose a little scream? Yeah.
Aye ayes are the kind of animal which always startle. Even if you know what to expect, you suddenly see a picture of an aye aye and you feel like you've just stumbled into a planet where demonic little goblins exist, and you've just bumped into one.
I can see why, in their native Madagascar, aye ayes are often killed on sight. If I had a weapon and was used to using it, I possibly would have damaged my computer.
I understand they're perfectly nice members of the lemur family. That doesn't make them any less startling.
See for yourself.
Hideously ugly and decidedly creepy little critters.
I was happily trawling through Zooborns the other day, looking at some of the new and wonderful what-nots born into zoos in the past few months, when I came across these:
No, those aren't aye ayes. Those are cavies. Essentially giant rodents, cavies are like rabbits which forgot they weren't kangaroos. Yes, I know rabbits aren't rodents, but rather lagamorphs. That doesn't seem to stop the cavies from looking like rabbits which forgot they weren't kangaroos. The fact that they are neither lagamorphs nor macropodidae is irrelevent.
Anyway, I was looking at this picture, thinking: "My, that's one of the oddest looking critters I've seen in quite a while". And then I scrolled down to the next animal.
You know how, sometimes, you see something so startling that you can't help letting lose a little scream? Yeah.
Aye ayes are the kind of animal which always startle. Even if you know what to expect, you suddenly see a picture of an aye aye and you feel like you've just stumbled into a planet where demonic little goblins exist, and you've just bumped into one.
I can see why, in their native Madagascar, aye ayes are often killed on sight. If I had a weapon and was used to using it, I possibly would have damaged my computer.
I understand they're perfectly nice members of the lemur family. That doesn't make them any less startling.
See for yourself.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Google and Mac
You know, I still have a strange premonition that, eventually, the future of the world will be decided by a battle between Google and Mac that involves people in giant robot suits (that seem to have all of the same features but in slightly different configurations) fighting it out over the streets of New Tokyo.
I'm reasonably sure world domination is the eventual goal of both companies. I'm also reasonably sure that such a thing will lead to our eventual doom.
But still, as long as Google keeps entertaining me with it's themed search engine logos, I'm probably going to come down on the Google side of the Wall.
25th anniversary of the Buckyball? Celebrated by replacing the central "o" with a 3D, spinnable buckyball model? That's just cool, dude.
I'm reasonably sure world domination is the eventual goal of both companies. I'm also reasonably sure that such a thing will lead to our eventual doom.
But still, as long as Google keeps entertaining me with it's themed search engine logos, I'm probably going to come down on the Google side of the Wall.
25th anniversary of the Buckyball? Celebrated by replacing the central "o" with a 3D, spinnable buckyball model? That's just cool, dude.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Extreme beginnings
I'm not sure, but I think I have to have it:
http://store.glennz.com/exbe.html
Actually, I'm almost sure.
I have to have it.
http://store.glennz.com/exbe.html
Actually, I'm almost sure.
I have to have it.
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