The Urban Lily

Getting ready for church

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Sat, 16 Aug 2014 11:31:00 +0000

There's a lot of talk death in our world.

It's not as if it's never happened before but we've sent off a couple of famous actors in the past week and then there's the horrors from the Middle East that don't seem to be going away any time soon.

When I was growing up in a neo-Confucian, syncretistic, inconsistently superstitious South Asian context, we were forbidden from even using the word death. Apparently the mere use of the word would hasten its arrival.

But I'm getting ready to be with fellow Christians tomorrow and we'll be talking about death again... a good death... the death of our Lord Jesus Christ. We won't just talk about it, we'll sing about it too.

If it weren't for the death of Jesus, not only would death would be really, really depressing, so would life.

Only the death and resurrection of the Son of God can bring life to people dead in their sin.

That's why I need to go to church on Sunday... to remind myself of this truth and to celebrate it with others.

"Is it true, mum?"

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Sat, 16 Aug 2014 11:00:00 +0000

When we decided drive the 13 year old to her new high school this year, I was dreading the entire exercise. It would be the most boring 40 minutes of my life.
Then I started playing music in the car... all kinds of music not just "Let it Go", by the way... the 40 minute drive round didn't feel quite as monotonous. It didn't improve other people's driving but at least it made the whole gig more tolerable.

As a bonus I rediscovered some old favourites and some 80s stuff that I grew up with which was loads of fun.

I think it was when I was playing a series of tearjerkery love songs that the 7 year old said to me, "Is it true, mum?"
Well, that took me by surprise. My brain quickly kicked into deep analysis mode... Is she asking me an ontological question? Or did she wants some facts?
So I asked her, "What do you mean by 'true'?"
Apparently she wanted to know if the content was reflective of real life situations which I thought was interesting. When I was a school kid listening to soppy songs, that question never occurred to me. I think I didn't even think about the lyrics all that much... they were sort of there... to give people something to do with the music other than humming it.

She posed that same question again when we were listening to a Simon and Garfunkel song, "He was my Brother".
Halliday would say that she was exercising the heuristic linguistic function in her language development.

It's a good question though. I'm glad she asked it... it's nice to know the kids do think about things and use their brains at least some of the time.

Or at least when food isn't involved.

Why I read Pride and Prejudice once a year

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Thu, 14 Aug 2014 10:21:00 +0000

To say that I love reading would be akin to me saying that I breathe. Reading is, in many ways, the air that I breathe.

I often tell people tell that Pride and Prejudice is my favourite book of all time and I read at least once a year. I liken it to an old friend and a comfortable pair of pyjamas that you slip on because you know what to expect and it can be relied upon to deliver every single time.

Pride and Prejudice has been adapted numerous times and has become the template for romantic comedies and melodramas all around the world. Clearly the storyline resonates universally. Even the great PD James has written her own P&P fan fiction, which was in my opinion,a rather disappointing effort considering the calibre of the author involved.

However, the romantic story of flawed first impressions isn't what draws me to this novel over and over again. For me, Jane Austen is, first and foremost, a master of irony and understatement. And P& P is a very funny read no matter how many times I've read it.

P&P puts things into perspective for me because once in a while I need to be reminded of what good writing is really like and how high the bar has been set for me.

Jargon Makers

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Wed, 13 Aug 2014 23:52:00 +0000

The husband and I had an interesting but succinct conversation about academics and bureaucrats yesterday. We're both convinced that they're all cut from the same cloth. Birds of a feather etc... that sort of thing. Their impulse to invent new jargon is probably only exceeded by their need to reinvent the wheel with annoying regularity. Having had not just a taste but a gutful of both in recent days, I find it terrifying that these people rule the world... that they are responsible for public policy and apparently... occasionally, the execution of it. Often I wonder if the obfuscation is a deliberate thing that they do to... you know.. control the conversation.

Why this rant? Well, I'm a part-time university student again. Yup... need I say more? A part-time postgraduate student to be more precise. The student thing started last year and I've been limping along with that bit of baggage since then.

Maybe I'm a simpleton but my question is: Why ramble on for 5 pages when you can do it one paragraph...

Meandering through traffic

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Sun, 11 May 2014 04:34:00 +0000

Being a mum in modern day Australia means that a large part of the beast known as "mummy duties" is wading through traffic. Chauffeuring children here, there and everywhere is par for the course. While I would hesitate to call myself a professional driver, it does feel that the car has become a second marriage or a second job... dropping the kids off at school and then heading off to work afterwards. I don't think I've driven this much in my twenty plus years of being behind the wheel as I have the last four months.

Hence, I've discovered traffic lights in a new and fresh way. And there's a probably metaphor somewhere in that about the obstacles life puts in one's way. I reckon there's a conspiracy afoot to keep me in my place, to remind me that I'm subject to THE system and that there really is a BIG BROTHER pushing buttons in some dark bureaucratic tower deliberately frustrating my efforts getting from A to B.

Well, I'm sure there's no conspiracy (I'm not important enough) but life doesn't always turn out the way one wants to. At times I respond well... philosophically anyway, shrug my shoulders and mutter "c'est la vie"... on other occasions... not so much.

I took on study last year on the assumption that if I cut back on work I would be able to manage life with the help of my husband. The reality is that things haven't exactly worked out as planned with both of us having health issues of varying degrees of severity. Sometimes I am angry with how things have turned out and other times I feel helpless in the face of uncontrollable circumstances. Clearly I haven't managed my expectations realistically. A human response no doubt but not one that I'm proud of.

I'm on the road from A to B. I know I haven't reached B yet. As I think about the route I often take to my daughter's school, I see that there are numerous lights ahead. Red or green... things will go my way some of the time and on other occasions it's a waiting game.

Rethinking the iPad

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Thu, 24 Apr 2014 11:43:00 +0000

People at work have an absurd idea that I'm this all-knowing iPad guru so they come to me with all kinds of iPad questions expecting that I actually have the answer. Worst still, they come to me for a consult when they want to buy one. I keep thinking that one day I will be exposed as the fraud that I am but so far so good.

(It's a bit like sin methinks when you think you're not such a bad person because compared to some other people I'm actually not that bad. In fact, some may even think I'm nice... But they don't know me as I know me or as God knows me.... but I digress..).

So I'm hardly an iPad expert... but admittedly I do love 'em. At work, I'm the official iPad indoctrinator... it's my job to spread the word and the joy that iPads are the best thing since fried rice... well, maybe not quite...

I've spent a lot of time thinking and reading about iPads in education lately and I'm a bit of a convert to the fact that when properly used, iPads are a great educational tool. There are thousands of apps for things that most people don't even think of but as a learning device, there is a lot of untapped potential to promote literacy. It gets a bit of a bad rep for being a consumer device but actually with some thought, it can be used for creative collaborative multi-modal learning. And I'm not even talking about "education" apps either.

Although I personally love technology, I'm actually old school about education and I used to think of iPads purely as a distraction. However, in recent months as a multimedia device, it can have wide application for the macro skills -- reading, listening, reading and writing. The iPad camera itself can be a brilliant educational tool for creating learning opportunities for producing language and building narrative skills.

Obviously I'm not saying that children can't learn without iPads... of course they can. As long as we keep producing books and teaching them to read, they will. But with iPads, they can create their own books and make their own movies. Digital literacy can help reinforce conventional literacy.

Notice I didn't even mention the word "game" once...

Assignment Posted

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Wed, 23 Apr 2014 10:35:00 +0000

Just posted my assignment and feeling a mix of relief and anxiety... if that's even possible. But after doing a bit of trimming and then pasting stuff onto the "official" template, I was ready to click my way to detachment.

I suppose there's always improvements to be made but there's no use hanging on to it at the eleventh hour. Of course I want to do well... who doesn't... but with my kind schedule, I'll be glad not to disgrace myself too much.

I've known for a while that I'm not much good at juggling. Eventually something's got to give and it's usually housework. Goodness knows there's so much to be done and done the day before yesterday.

Work was work... got a few things done and trying to keep my boundaries intact. It's one of those things that can really eat you up alive if you're not careful. Come the end of June I'm sure I'll be ready to have that holiday down the coast.

I'm grateful for a sense of focus that I haven't experienced for a while. It's what's got me through the past week. I'm taking it one day at a time.

Easter and Crosses

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Mon, 21 Apr 2014 12:25:00 +0000

I spent much of the Easter weekend working on my Uni assignment which may or may not be the holiest thing to be doing especially when the weather outside was ridiculously good. But at least that was a form of discipline so it probably added to my sanctification in no small measure.

I've been struggling with the whole working/studying mum shtick since I started Uni mid last year. It's a tough gig and it explains why I've been under the radar all this time. I didn't really want to do another postgraduate degree at this time in my life while working and raising school-aged kids. But then the husband keeps spouting his usual line of "when-is-it-ever-a-good-time".

Yeah... so I'm mad... certifiably.. but jobs in my area are scarce so I have to do what I can to stay in the game.

Work is not the problem although it is absurdly busy at times. Disciplining myself to get things done is. I've lived under the tyranny of the urgent since mid-last year and then I went to Thailand on a short mission trip already exhausted in December. Two days before leaving the country, I was writing reports till eight in the evening.

This Easter I thought a lot about the way I spend my time consuming media (especially via the internet). I had to ask myself the hard question of whether or not my time has been spent to the glory of God. Sadly I've fallen short. I've been wasting my leisure time and making internet media an idol in my life.

At Easter time we are reminded of how Jesus went to the cross to suffer on our behalf, to free us from sin's stranglehold. Similarly, I am reminded in Luke 9:23 that we are to take up our cross daily. To die to self daily and to seek to honour our Lord in all that I do. Dying to self is a concept that is so foreign to our human nature. I am a creature of comfort and to set aside my wants is contrary to every fibre of my being.
But Easter is also about grace. Grace is a power to overcome our foibles and to get through life. Although I sing "Amazing Grace", I don't really believe in its power in the way I live and make my choices. Nonetheless, the God of grace is the same God that raised Jesus from the dead.

I'm a working mother labouring daily in different contexts but I need to see the cross and all it means in my life as I live out the life in grace daily... not just on Easter weekend.

Surviving Traffic in Suburbia

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Mon, 21 Apr 2014 11:23:00 +0000

I like living in the suburbs and I like living some distance from the CBD and yet still enjoy easy access to city life without having to battle tooth and nail through peak hour traffic. It's the one thing I haven't missed... sitting on the freeway thirty seconds at a time... starting and stopping... and that sense of relief... when I finally catch a glimpse of the Brisbane River. Yup, I'm glad not to be working in the CBD or in the inner city suburbs for that reason at least.

Over the years I've noticed that our street has become busier -- the traffic is getting so bad that it's hard to even get past our own driveway. School traffic is also something of a nightmare and if I didn't have to pick up two children from two different places, I'd be walking. These days, one has to arrive in the vicinity at least 20 minutes before chaos descends in the otherwise quiet neighbouring streets. It's quite the challenge trying not to kill someone or have an unpleasant encounter with another vehicle. In my less gracious moments I have unkind thoughts about our local school and the number of students they feel obliged to take in.

Daughter #1 started high school this year and we made a decision to send her to a Christian school about twenty minutes away thinking that we would be using the school bus but that didn't pan out so we've become a two car family after almost eighteen years of just managing with one. I don't particularly enjoy driving even after twenty plus years -- it's stressful trying to read the minds of one's fellow drivers and trying to second guess the timing of red lights. So it's at least one hour in the car doing the school drop offs and then heading off to work. Lots of music playing in the car to take the edge off the monotony. We're definitely doing our best to wear out the iPhone jack. Wasn't happy about it initially but I've made peace with the situation. The fact that Daughter #1 is thriving in the new environment probably makes it easier to accept the new arrangement. I'm also thinking that I'll start doing audiobooks again. I finished I, Claudius mainly on car trips to work a couple of years ago. Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell has been much more of a challenge rather like an endurance sport. It's very well written but nothing much seems to be happening.

Spent 10 minutes in Woolies...

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Tue, 30 Jul 2013 03:27:00 +0000

looking for SPAM.

I'm not sure how supermarkets organize their shelves but there doesn't seem to be any kind of intuitive logic at times. It seemed to me really odd that the SPAM was stuck between noodles and something else that wasn't tuna or canned veggies.

Some thoughtful store assistant noticed that I was completely baffled and asked me if I needed help. That surprised me as I really didn't think big supermarket chains cared about customers except in some obligatory way. An advantage of shopping on a Tuesday morning, I suppose, when there's hardly anyone about.

The other day we received a call from the school office...

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Sun, 28 Jul 2013 05:15:00 +0000

While at work a few days ago, I got a call from the husband telling me the school had rung him.

My first thought was "Oh... oh... which child is it? What did she do now?"

Apparently the second child -- was determined to undertake an after-school activity after I had said "no" -- had put in a form and money at the school office.

Fortunately the lady at the office had her wits about her and tried to contact us about it (I was in classes at the time and only found out later) because she thought it was strange that the form was filled in with crayon and the money wasn't quite right.

When I picked her up from after school care, I confronted her about it and she denied vehemently that she had done such a thing. Riiiiiiiiiiiight... sure...

And then there was the mysterious $20... where did that come from? She didn't have a cent to her name.

She claimed it came from her "piggy bank". Riiiiiiiiiiiight... sure...

So I invoked the fear of Dad into her. "If you don't tell me where you took the money from I will ask Dad to talk to you."

The response was immediate. "Okay... okay. I took it from [Big Sister]."

Which I had already suspected was the case.

They didn't prepare us for this sort of thing during ante-natal classes.

Opposites Attack

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Sat, 27 Jul 2013 01:04:00 +0000

I am both fascinated and dismayed by the how different our girls are. It's terrifying enough to observe the best and worst of our own traits emerging from our offspring but to watch their differences at play is the stuff of horror films. Well... I exaggerate. But only slighty. :D

This is the kind of thing that makes parenting ridiculously hard... it means that you can't really have pre-conceived ideas about any child. Just when you think you've got a handle on things, the next child makes a liar out of you. It is, I expect, God's gift to parents... to shake off any notions of complacency and sense of superiority out of our system.

So what do you do when one child needs constant pushing and the other has so much energy that just looking at her is exhausting? Quite frankly it's exhausting either way. The child that needs pushing is just as strong-willed as the child who is constantly on the go.

It's frustrating on a certain level but it's a good kind of frustrating... thought I say it grudgingly... because it compels us to face them as individuals and not blank sheets that we can jam into some kind of quick and easy template.

Haven't blogged in a while...

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Fri, 26 Jul 2013 07:14:00 +0000

and I'm not sure if I should. If I start again

I um-ed and ah-ed about blogging off and on during the past 14 months. I was tired, sick, stressed.... tired, sick, stressed... you know how it goes... A never ending cycle of feeling horrible. During the winter months last year I was barely surviving... staggering into work, back into the car and into the house. Blogging was the furthest thing from my mind.

I also tend to write what I think, which is probably not too great especially when I'm something of a public servant. I didn't... and don't want to talk about work... not just for fear of being indiscreet but also for the fact I'd just be inflicting pain on others. Suffice to say I love and hate my job at the same time. It can be an all-consuming thing if I'm not careful but so far, the "love" part of the job has not been subsumed by the "hate" part. Strong boundaries is the key remedy for the chaos that I go to three times a week and the notion that I work for God and not for man is another thing that makes the thing more palatable.

I took up Jazzercise just over a year ago because I was desperate to feel better. I was ready to try anything. In the early days it felt like a self-inflicted form of masochism with loud music blaring in the background.The loud music is still very much a feature of these bi-weekly sessions but at least now I know why the hands go here and the legs go there. Now if only I can get them to synchronize a bit better...

I've also gone back to Uni. I use the expression "gone back" rather more metaphorically than literally as I'm studying online for a Masters in Education (what else?). Now that I've finished the Cert IV in Training and Assessment and realised a few things about studying online, I'm taking the plunge again.

My first Masters was many, many moons ago but it was mostly research. I was going to wait a bit but the truth is, I ain't getting any younger.

I do miss blogging and writing in general. I was dabbling with fiction from time to time last year but the horrifying truth of life is that I'm not getting any younger. Youth is really wasted on the young.

Mischievous Kiss 2013 (Jap: Itazura na Kiss -- Love in Tokyo)

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Thu, 25 Jul 2013 09:38:00 +0000

Last Saturday (Aussie Time) saw the end of Itazura na Kiss: Love in Tokyo, a Japanese live action, television adaptation of a ridiculously popular manga of the same name. I gather that it’s the Pride and Prejudice of shoujo manga as this is the fifth version to grace television and computer screens worldwide. It is, to all intents and purposes, a farcical rom com that begins as an unrequited high school romance and then moves into angst territory. It is loads of silly fun and features characters with personalities at opposite ends of the spectrum. The fact that I liked it surprises me... I’m not a fan of high school romances as a rule... and I’m certainly getting too old for egregious slapstick. Nonetheless, I was charmed almost instantly by the plucky (though underachieving) female lead who has a talent for getting things wrong and who has a penchant for stalking the object of her affections. With admirable fearlessness, she sets herself the mammoth task of winning the heart of the smartest boy in school, whose icy declaration that he doesn’t care for “dumb girls” becomes the catalyst for a rollercoaster “will they, won’t they” journey.

Okay... it sounds fairly pedestrian as romances go but the familiar can be oddly addictive. Especially if it is oozing with all manner of cuteness. Before you know it, the show seduces you into rooting for the most unlikely couple in Dramaland. At first, smart boy maintains his distance and disdain but much to his own surprise, dumb girl turns out to have an unexpected streak of deviousness and determination. In spite of himself, he begins falling for her while still maintaining a facade of disinterest. Oh, he likes her... it leaks when she's conveniently not looking but he’d go to hades in a hand basket first probably before admitting to it. Not helping the course of true love, however, is his somewhat overbearing mother whose tireless insistence that he marry dumb girl pushes all the buttons of his already well-developed rebellious radar.

The moral of the story in Itazura na Kiss: Love in Tokyo, it seems to me, is that mother knows best. No matter how ridiculous her machinations and plots are, no one knows her children like mum does. Mama's heart is always in the right place. Before anyone else has twigged, she knows deep in the recess of her motherly instincts that dumb girl is just the one for her supercilious, overachieving boy. She knows something that only mothers are privy to. Apparently dumb girls have their uses... they can teach smart boys a thing or two about humility and that thing called love.

The Avengers (2012)

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Sun, 27 May 2012 03:01:00 +0000

Yes, just in case you were wondering (or may be not)... I was one of those who queued to see The Avengers during the first week. It had been a while since I've had to queue up for anything at the pictures but this movie seems to breaking all kinds of box office records. Of course I would have gone even if it word-of-mouth wasn't great. Who am I kidding right? Afterall, I did write reviews for Captain America and Thor last year.

Thankfully it wasn't. In fact, it was really good. I'm not yet prepared to call it a masterpiece BUT it was so good that I understand why some might want to go that far.
(And no, I am not referring to that dreadful film remake of the popular 60s spy/scifi British tv show, which turned out to be a complete waste of time.)

So where was I? The Avengers... In my estimation, probably the best ensemble superhero comic book flick so far which is hardly surprising when you consider that Joss Whedon (Buffy, Angel, Firefly, Dollhouse) was at the helm. Most of the X-Men film were decent but struggled to get the "ensemble" bit right. I don't know why they bothered with the standalone Wolverine film when he was more or less the star of the trilogy. First Class was practically the Charles and Erik show. Here, I thought Whedon got the balance more or less right, as each hero got his/her moment in the spotlight, a goal, until now, that has been elusive as well as Herculean.

For me, the crowning glory of the film were the one-on-one character interactions. With so many characters, the need to be efficient in drawing each one out is paramount. In Whedon's hands, a snapp five minute conversation can reveal so much about the character's personality and motivations. Interspersed between all the posturing is the witty banter and the parade of one-liners that had audiences rocking in their seats.

Traditionally the villains are the catalyst in such stories. Here, it is no different. The main villain of the piece is Loki who has grandiose visions of planet domination and has sought the aid of the Chitauri, whose strength lie in their numbers and tech. Loki, as played by Tom Hiddlestone, is a mixture of mischief, deceit, frustration and arrogance. But in the end, Loki and the Chitauri are supporting characters in a theatre meant to bring together 4 powerful, if at times egotistical, individuals to prevent the human race from annihilation or extinction.

The best part of this is that it is bucketloads of fun. At the end of the day, that's probably why most people splash out the big bucks for.

Excuse me... while I disappear for a bit and cough...

I've been taking sick leave

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Sat, 26 May 2012 03:15:00 +0000

I see it's been over a month since I even attempted to blog about anything.
Not that I haven't done anything of importance during this time but I've gone through 3 different bouts of colds with varying degrees of severity. This last one has been the killer cold mainly because it turned into the killer cough last weekend which unhappily kept me up for an hour last night.
However, in the service of country and family, I plod along. Just.
Despite all that I got out of bed this lovely morn determined to get some cleaning done. It had to be done.
With all the modern conveniences at our disposal, there are still something's one has to get down on one's knees to do. Plus I had 5 year old doing some scrubbing although her stamina failed to match her initial enthusiasm.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Are modern parents overprotective?

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Mon, 09 Apr 2012 06:10:00 +0000

It's a pity that this article from The Australian can't be more widely accessed but it raises some interesting questions about modern parenting.

Cassandra Wilkinson in praise of danger:

THE free and bountiful country we enjoy today was built by people who weren’t afraid to get dirty, hurt or disappointed. But as a society, we have been legislating against our natural appetite for risk as if the world no longer needed bravery, adventure or ambition.
I often hear people say, “I don’t want to live in a country that doesn’t make things any more.” I don’t want to live in a country that doesn’t break things any more…
Last year the 1.2m plastic slippery dip was closed at my son’s school because of safety concerns… Looking into the facts on behalf of my son, I realised that slippery dips are not the only symbols of my childhood being consigned to the recycling bin of history. Trampolines, skates and bicycles are increasingly regulated, and solitude, adventure and danger are as foreign to many kids now as adult supervision was to my peers.

There are good reasons to worry that we have got the balance wrong for today’s kids. The victory of caution over common sense not only takes the fun out of childhood; it’s taking the bravery and responsibility out of adulthood.

By this definition, I suppose I used to be one of those overcautious types. I recall with great clarity that when my eldest was about 5 or 6, I took her to Southbank for a get-together with my students. While my back was turned, she started rolling around the slopes with somebody else's children and I started chastising her in a disapproving manner... ie. freaking out. The father of said children took me to task, in a half-scolding, half-mocking fashion, suggesting that I needed to... erm... take the chill pill. His wife, bless her heart, gave him the evil eye.

I have come to see that perhaps I was a bit overprotectve because I was brought up in a different cultural context. And maybe more than a little fastidious about cleanliness.

Are we too protective?

Living in Oz

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Mon, 09 Apr 2012 05:24:00 +0000

At our place, public holidays aren't properly utilized. Unless you considering sleeping-in (or any manner of slumber) and cleaning up a profitable use of public holidays.

For us, it is a must to catch up on sleep because well, the rest of time, we do it so poorly. As for cleaning up, it's a good opportunity to get rid of junk in one fell swoop. Ordinarily, we're just too exhausted to get the job done on top of everything else that we do.

Occasionally I get asked about the reasons why I live in Oz, where the cost of living is absurdly high and one feels compelled to DIY to save a few pennies here and there.
I suppose I'm one of those crazy people that value personal freedom above personal wealth (although it doesn't mean I decry the good things in life). I like the fact that it's a peaceful country and that generally, people take you as they see you.
I like the fact that I can dress in last decades's fashion and no one will raise an eyebrow.
And I like the spontaneous diversity of the population that is generally united under the banner of personal freedom.

So, yeah... I like it here. I like it where I live, and I like it where the children go to school. For now.
There are days when I despair over the increasing traffic in our suburb which is obviously related to the popularity of our local school. The increase in traffic lights don't seem to help either.

I know I don't have to live where I live and if things get intolerable, we do have choices.
That's the key word in all of this -- choice.

Freedom of Speech

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Sat, 07 Apr 2012 10:02:00 +0000

Even if you find yourself generally apolitical, freedom of speech is a right/privilege we shouldn't take lightly. The Catallaxy Files posted this a day or so ago which is worth a read.

and here's Mark Steyn, with characteristic humour, reminding us why free speech is worth fighting for.

Increasingly, I see this as the most important political battle of our time. I can't see how we can have a fully functioning democracy without it.

"Sherlock"

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Fri, 06 Apr 2012 11:19:00 +0000

I have adored Sherlock Holmes for as long as I can remember. In all probability, it was Basil Rathbone chasing a large imaginary dog on a tightly budgeted, smoke-ridden set that started my lifelong love for the residents of 221B Baker St. Obviously, I'm not old enough to have seen Rathbone romping around in his heyday but I developed a quaint fondness for watching old matinee things on weekend afternoons during my impressionable years.
For me, Rathbone was always the Sherlock Holmes... even when the great Jeremy Brett came into prominence as the Victorian sleuth.

Some days when I wake up, I still consider Rathbone as my Sherlock but other days, it's the mesmerizing Benedict Cumberbatch. Neither of which, I agree, is definitively Sherlock but there's something about their performances that grabs you and draws you into the story. Rathbone's Holmes is a clever English gentleman who is heroic and honourable. A man holding onto the ideals of his day. Cumberbatch's Sherlock is an obnoxious logician for whom sentiment is a weakness. He is an iconoclast and has the gift and weakness of not caring too much what people think of him. For him, sleuthing is a sport and a challenge, winning is more important than compassion. Athough that's not to say that he has no spark of feeling. Even with all the nods to Doyle's Holmes, the modern day revival is a cynical postmodern Sherlock who has few ideals and fewer friends. The sum of his existence is to find the next big kick.

Despite his overweening arrogance and peevishness, I find this modern day Sherlock Holmes quite refreshing. A man who tells it like it is so rare in this day and age, that he's called controversial. A man who doesn't act on sentiment is rarer still.

When one is responsible for other people, it's often difficult to maintain that balance between head and heart. Our culture, however, today does tip towards sentimentality. How many times have we heard/read the mantra... "follow your heart" as if the heart is a much more reliable guide to making decisions than hard headedness? How many people have done exactly that and gone down the slippery slope of no return?

The interplay of reason vs compassion in the "Sherlock" series is fascinating, nonetheless. Although as a Christian, I don't see them as diametrically opposed to one another because the Bible doesn't. The problem is that we often lack the third party which governs both -- divine insight through scriptures.

We rely far too much on ourselves to discern reality.

Good Friday #2

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Fri, 06 Apr 2012 10:57:00 +0000

We had lunch at a friend's place this afternoon out in Jimboomba. The thing one learns very quickly when residing in the great continent of Oz is that even a 40 minute drive out to more remote areas is not considered far. Afterall this is very big country. Not that Jimboomba is out of civilization's reach (although roads seem to be in a poor state of repair) but these days affordable large blocks of land requires a bit traveling to get to.
On average I travel 20 minutes to work and some of my students actually think that's far until I tell them that I used to do a 40 minute drive into the CBD, most of it spent idling and steering-wheel drumming on the freeway some time during 7 to 7:30 in the morning. Nope, I don't miss that. Did the bus thing too at one point but two buses each way plus waiting around in between = one hour (if I'm lucky). But one should expect to travel some way to get to work.

So onward to Jimboomba it was... and a large group (as it turned out) from church also turned up. And as it is always the case with our church, we were extremely well-fed. I, too, contributed to the festivities with my usual dumpling schtick.
Yeah, I know I'm typecasting myself. But it's a no-brainer and I can almost make them blindfolded. "Almost" because I don't really want to knife myself chopping the ingredients and lose bits of skin (best case scenario) in the process.

A couple of hours later we headed off, partly because I was beginning to get that nebulous yuck feeling again and partly because we had planned to go grave visiting.

A good plan. Yes. Unfortunately, we got... er... a bit lost... which is supposedly an embarrassing thing to confess to.
Perhaps it reflects our chaotic state of mind, but we never seem to remember where the grave stone is actually located and each year the occupancy status of the lawn in question increases and with that the floral content, making the exact spot harder to find.

After strolling a bit, the husband found mum's final resting place and then 5 year old wanted to know if grandma was really... you know... buried under her feet. For five long seconds there, when she started carrying on about wanting to know what grandma looked like, I was convinced that she was going to fall on her knees and start digging.

This year, as it happens, the anniversary of mum's death falls on Good Friday. It gives the occasion greater poignancy and doubles the meaning for me.
I'm not sure that it's the distance of years that makes the death of a loved one easier to bear. At least in my experience, it isn't. This year as I stood at my mother's grave, that feeling of lingering resentment that I felt when I lost her seemed to have lost its grip on me.
Previously even when I gave mental assent to the fact that she was in a better place, I always felt that it was unfair that she was taken from me at a time when I needed her the most. But this year, with everything's that happened to me in the past 6 months, I've come to see the hand of Providence in all things in a way I hadn't before. That part of the journey has enabled me to let go and move on.

Good Friday

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Fri, 06 Apr 2012 08:15:00 +0000

It's Easter Friday and I've just woken up from a nap after a biggish sort of day.
The last few days have been a bit of struggle and I'm still not sure if I'm just dreadfully fatigued from work or it has been a prelude to something more sinister.
By sinister, of course, I mean something like a head cold as it seems the o'l sinuses are taking perverse pleasure in creating headaches.

The Good Friday service at church this morning seemed to have gone down well with the congregation, judging from the reception I received. Can't take any credit for it as I mainly did what I was told. Sang some beloved hymns and read relevant scriptural texts (that part was mine) while objects from the crucifixion story were passed around the room.
It was a sober time and the pastor led a spontaneous time of sharing from the congregants.

I have always liked the sobriety of the occasion but honestly, what else could one be?
Consider this: Our Lord, the God of creation allowed himself to die at the hands of men under one of the most brutal form of capital punishment devised by humans.
I can't take it lightly even if I don't ponder over the ramifications of our Lord's sacrifice enough.
When I think of the cross, I think of the utter gravity of sin on one side, and on the other, I think of love. Real love. Robust, self-sacrificing love.

It is the gold standard after all.

Public Policy

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Sun, 18 Mar 2012 11:14:00 +0000

Next week the people in my state get to vote for a new government. If the blogs I read are to be believed, there's an almost gleeful feeling in the air that change is coming.

I suppose I'm one of those who hate election campaigns because more often than not we see some of the worst of human nature on display. And the past few weeks, we certainly have... from people who are supposed to govern us.

At church today, a more senior member of our congregation remarked to me that "we don't have the leaders we need" to which I agreed heartily. However, the more I thought about that, the more I came to the conclusion that although that is true on some level (and the quality of our politicans have deterioriated over the years), I think the problem lies with us, the voting public. We let things slide, we let the pollies put one over us and we accept the decline in the quality of news reporting.
More and more I see that the politicans we get is in very large part a reflection of the community's values and general indifference to public policy.

It's a hard thing to say because I am part of the community. These days we tolerate all manner of sin far too readily.

My whole thought process dovetailed nicely with the sermon I heard this morning. Isaiah, when confronted with the glory of God, saw himself as he was. A man of unclean lips. A man belonging to a people of unclean lips.
Until we return to the fundamentals, I don't think it really matters who we vote for.

John Carter (2012)

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Sat, 17 Mar 2012 13:03:00 +0000

I am such a sucker for old-fashioned science fiction, adventure romps that a film would have to be quite dreadful (in the tradition of Clash of the Titans) for me to pan it. The first trailer that I saw for John Carter didn't give one much reason to hope (the lead actor looked at first glance to be a weedy, pasty Conan the Barbarian) but subsequent trailers convinced me that there was a decent flick in there amidst all the CGI spectacle. Moreover, finding out that this was a science fiction classic penned a hundred years ago by the author of Tarzan of the Apes, sealed the deal for me.

John Carter hasn't seen much love from the critics which probably shouldn't surprise me these days. The divide between critical reception and mass popularity seems to be widening ever more. In this case, I expect it will be much the same.

OK, so I liked John Carter and probably enjoyed it more than War Horse -- the last thing I saw at the cinema. It probably helps a lot that I'm a big science fiction movie buff but honestly, I thought the film had more in common with Indiana Jones 1 and 2 than The Matrix or Star Trek. There's more than a passing resemblance to Star Wars but since the John Carter series was written way before Lucas was even thought of, it begs the question of who really is paying homage to whom.

John Carter, the titular character, is a former Confederate turned gold prospector and in this film version he's world weary and deeply embittered about the human loss he sustained during the war. On one occasion, while taking refuge from a group of hostile Apache, he stumbles onto a cave covered with extraordinary markings. His curiosity is quickly aroused so he investigates further. This incident leads him to a transportation device which immediately whisks him to the Red Planet, which the local inhabitants know better as "Barsoom".
Thus begins his adventures on Mars leading to different encounters which would change his life forever.

One of my favourite bits in this is the use of flashbacks as a way into Carter's history and personality. It's not overdone and manages efficiently to explains the fuel that stokes his anger. The flying machines, looking like something out of Leonardo da Vinci's notebooks, were also very nice to look at.

Although the lead actor fulfilled the role of the action hero more than adequately, he was scarcely an acting heavyweight. It's not that he played Carter badly but his unshaven boy-next-door looks with his modern American accent often seemed at odds with the general scenery. Perhaps that was deliberate? I couldn't say but that was something that didn't sit right with me. He definitely looked a bit too young to be Burroughs' uncle anyhow. On the upside, he did have believably good chemistry with Princess Dejah Thoris.

To its credit, this film had a great deal more gravitas than I expected. Usually I expect these things to be silly and loads of fun, which it was. But there were also some heart moments too which surprised me a little. It caused me think that the people who put this together did have real respect for the source material whatever the end result.

So this is parenting...

noreply@blogger.com (Lilian) — Fri, 16 Mar 2012 10:58:00 +0000

One of the hardest and most heart-breaking things about parenting is trying to explain to your children the darker side of "having friends".
Generally, I try not to interfere/intervene unless the kerfuffle encroaches on prized family rules. I do, however, offer advice. Afterall, it is important that they have friends and learn how to deal with all aspects of human nature as is manifested in people they call "friends".
Undoubtedly it frustrates the 10 year old (and her mother) that other people parent from a different playbook. And in a free society, that's inevitable.
It isn't that I claim to have all the answers about parenting which seems to get harder as our community becomes more diverse but there are some basic things I do believe strongly in like:

Boundaries
Consequences
Taking responsibility for one's actions/possessions
Respect for one's elders

Once upon a time these were commonsensical things notions but apparently they have fallen out of favour with large sections of the populace to varying degrees. I shouldn't be but I'm surprised that not everything thinks the same way.
It's hard... to keep at it... I know, I struggle through the process too. And I feel like such a snob prattling on like this. Still, if I'm honest... I find that my greatest parenting challenge, as the children get older, has become other people's children. There are days when I am in sympatico with increasing numbers of people choosing to homeschool their children.

On the postive side, I find it instructive to ask myself semi-regularly... what sort of children am I unleashing on the world?
Sometimes I like the answer, often I don't.