buggery.org

Neo-fascist Italian media baron, part-time Prime Minister and full-time racist, Silvio Berlusconi is afraid of spiders, as well as Germans, according to a Reuters report that suggests that he issued a prime ministerial decree to forbid all eight-legged creepy crawlies entry to Italy.

A new law, apparently an emergency measure which resulted from Silvio’s unplannned micturation upon coming face-to-face with a daddy-long-legs at his Milan mansion, will slap a €10,000 fine on anyone caught bringing the hairy buggers into Emperor Silvio’s domain.

“We understand that the measure was dictated by the prime minister’s fear of spiders,” opposition MP Luigi Merduri told News Limited.

As for me, I love spiders, can’t get enough of ‘em. Seriously, I reckon they are underappreciated creatures; I even have a spider tattoo on my right shoulder. I’ve been fond of spiders since I was a kid, when I became accustomed to my dad picking them up, letting them crawl over him, once I even watched as he sat in front of the TV with a four-inch huntsman on his shoulder, which he absent-mindedly stroked, while watching TV.

The huntsman seemed to enjoy it.

Amid a smokescreen of incense, one of the new bells of St James Anglican Church, dedicated to the memory of those who have died of AIDS, was rung for the first time yesterday.

The bell, the fourth of the King Street church’s eight, is inscribed with the legend “Nomine - let their names ring out”, and plays the note D.

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Dogs add action, animation, agency to things I wouldn?t otherwise notice: doors, beds, floors, things they sniff. We own dogs because they nudge into motion what is stagnant, untouched.

It’s just a few words, but Bentkid understands.

We’ve had our first houseguests; Dermot and Tim came up from Sydney yesterday and we’ve had a pleasant weekend together showing off our new home town. They both seemed surprised by and impressed with Newcastle’s relaxed-yet-cosmopolitan ambience, and it was an energising experience to have my own increasing happiness with being here confirmed through the eyes of others.

Validation, while hardly essential, helps.

Having a couple of tourists in tow, we finally walked down the hill to the Merewether ocean baths, which is where the photo of Brent at right was taken (click the photo to go to the gallery). The baths, opened in 1935, must be one of this town’s greatest assets and are a spectacular sight, with the huge surf pounding the rocks just a few metres away from several hardy souls patiently swimming laps in the chilly winter water. I’m not that brave but once the weather warms up a bit I’ll be in for a dip first chance I get.

New bloodwork results last Friday — generally good news although my liver is struggling under the strain of too many glasses of red wine. Details here.

Moving into a frantic phase of preparation for the next PL, plus returning to university this week after a year away. I’m excited about uni but afraid my enthusiasm for the temple of mediocrity that UTS can sometimes be, will make this semester harder than it need be. God grant me forbearance.

(Click the image for a larger version)

Fred Nile has resigned as a minister of the Uniting Church after the ex-methodists decided to allow ordination of openly-gay ministers a week ago.

The church has thrown out the Bible and is no longer a true church, Mr Nile says.

“They’ve adopted a policy which completely ignores the teaching in the word of God in the bible,” he told The Australian.

“I can’t stay in a church which does that because in fact, to a degree, the Uniting Church ceases to be a church.”

If he’s so principled, shouldn’t Nile have quit his cushy taxpayer-funded position as a member of the NSW Parliament, which recently voted to equalise the age of consent for gay men?

If he really wants to do the martyr thing, shouldn’t he quit the church and the state?

Of course, the $130,000 salary plus associated perks might just have something to do with it…

The Newcastle Regional Museum is missing one dinosaur. And it’s a loaner.

Apparently the 110-million-year-old dog-sized Psittacosaurus sinensis skeleton went walkies in the small hours of Sunday morning, not long after the local TV station screened a Saturday night double bill of The Flintstones followed by Jurassic Park.

The director of the museum, Gavin Fry, told the Sydney Morning Herald that Newcastle “is about more than Andrew Johns, Silverchair and a broken down steelworks,” while expressing concern that the thieves might dump the skeleton.

The Chinese owners of the skeleton are reported to not be amused.

The NRM could try buying a replacement, from here.

ARIES (March 21-April 19): I hope you decided against participating in that weird contest — you know, the one in which you would have competed to see who could bang their head against the wall the most times before passing out. I trust you also turned down any invitations you got to show off your amazing wounds or prove how attractive your problems are. Continue to show a similar forbearance in the coming week, Aries. The worst is over. The pressure to express yourself perversely will soon diminish as the very hassles that have been frustrating you will morph into elegant opportunities.

[Rob Brezsny’s Free Will Astrology, 16 July]

So we went to the garden centre to get some plants for our new house…

Irresistable

We are fairly settled into our new home now after what seems like an eternity of packing and unpacking. Newcastle is being gorgeous for us. More later, although the broadband connection isn’t in place yet so net access is sporadic and slow.

My city of Sydney,
I miss the warmth of you.
Miss the heart of your people,
That little church steeple in Woolloomooloo.

Tonight is my last night as a Sydneysider, at least for now, and it’s hard not to feel a little melancholic. (more…)