buggery.org

That time of year again.

I don’t mind it so much, as long as there’s beer in the fridge and plenty of reading material I can get through it fairly unscathed. Unlike the Christmases of my childhood, which were joy and fun punctuated with occasional outbursts of anger and violence, we keep things fairly low-key here at Buggery Acres. We’ve decorated Wally the Wollemi Pine tree (but not too much, his little limbs can only hold a few baubles) and there will be presents and feasting, of course, beginning with fondue tonight (a Christmas Eve tradition in Brent’s family) and a light lunch tomorrow.

Then there is the Boxing Day test match to look forward too – thanks to my brother Bill I’ll be at the MCG for the first day – and then three weeks of holidays, with nothing much planned except working through a substantial pile of books and movies.

To cap off a year of weird weather, the forecast for Christmas Day here is completely bizarre: “Showers tending to rain at times. Windy. Minimum 5C, maximum 18C.” That’s just wrong – Christmas Day is supposed to be one of the hottest and most oppressive days of the year, and they’re forecasting snow in Tasmania? If it rains tomorrow, I’ll consider it a blessing though – we need it.

Finally, here’s some Christmas music you might like. Enjoy!

• Look! No Strings! (Chumbawamba, 1997, from Shhh)
• A Merry Jingle (The Greedies, 1995, from Punk Rock Xmas)
• and for the homosexualists, Santa Baby (Kylie Minogue, 2003, from Sounds of the Season: The NBC Holiday Collection)

Fans of cheesy Xmas music should also check out these disco selections from Joe. My. God.

Much of the state of Victoria is covered in smoke from bushfires - and has been for the last week or so. In the city, it feels like living in Beijing; here in the country, the eeriness of the constant smoke haze is compounded by the realisation that those bushfires could be on our doorstep next week, or next month.

Here’s a photo I took at 7:30 this morning. There are no clouds in the sky, and the pink dot you can see is the sun:

Former Chilean dictator, torturer, human rights abuser and friend of Margaret Thatcher (all of which are crimes against humanity) Augusto Pinochet is dead. And not a moment too soon. The old bastard was 91.

As they say, the only good fascist is a very very very very very dead fascist.

“Pinochet has died, and I don’t think he’s going to heaven,” human rights lawyer Geoffrey Robertson told BBC television. — IHT

Margaret Thatcher was “greatly saddened” by the news of Pinochet’s death, says the BBC. One can’t help but hope she’s the only one. I suppose when Thatcher dies, she, Pinochet and Ronald Reagan will be reunited at last, in Hell where they belong.

This Wikipedia article gives the facts of Pinochet’s life in a much more measured and objective fashion than I can. I’m too busy dancing on his grave.

Thrills! Excitement! Music! Baby chickens!

Shot entirely on location in our front yard, this morning. Dry, isn’t it?

I’m not sure how the “buy this stock” spam scam works, but I can’t help but agree with this morning’s hot tip:

Oh yeah, my hot pick for December is ARSS too. You can never have too much hot ARSS. No wonder “the fun is just beginning” with ARSS. I’m a bit concerned about that “increasing volume” though — hope it’s not gonna turn into a LARDARSS.

I’ve been puzzling over this all day. From a report in today’s Age about yesterday’s IR protests:

Indeed, the message du jour — that the IR laws stink and that John Howard is a bottom — was often skewed

Please explain? (Or actually, now that I have that mental image, please don’t.)