The nettles were boiled a week ago and I let them sit in glass bottles until today.
I heated them with ginger, mugwort, mint, spearmint and a little wormwood and tansy.
Also added a few leaves from a wattle that was sprouting in the backyard,
And then there was a few shots of vodka which had soaked about four handfuls of lavender.
I also added three star anise.
Just under three kilos of brown sugar, one box of Cooper's brewing sugar and half a jar of molasses were stirred into 25 litres in the fermenter, with a starting gravity of 10.70.
I've read that nettles taste better with brown sugar, so I'm hoping the molasses will complement that flavour.
I used a dark brown sugar previously and got a dry ginger ale-like flavour which suited the green taste of the nettles.
Used more ginger this time, which seems to give a deep flavour, as well as bowl of mint that gives a strong punch in the mid-palate.
I've put leaves of mugwort, mint and a few tansy fronds into a bag to soak in the wort for the first few days too.
Hoping for an earthy porter-like flavour.
Edit: a week later and it has around 5% alcohol with still sugar to go.
This
is an outfit I wore for Halloween a couple of years ago
It was great
to see kids simultaneously scared and curious, both wanting to know who
it was and fearing the answer.
Recently I wore it at Burning
Seed and it was the first time people stopped and asked to take a photo
of my outfit.
One bloke lined up a beaut shot with the Temple lit behind
me. He was a professional and the result on his camera was terrifying
because I imagined it would appear in a magazine with the headline
"DEATH CULT!"
Another guy delighted in pashing me in front of his friends because there was plastic preventing actual physical contact.
Having bottled a recent brew, I was eager to begin another
A recent highlight had been a beer made with stinging nettles and ginger, so I was keen to experiment further with that weed -- which has had a bumper year in the Riverina.
My friend allowed me to collect nettle from her yard and I found there was also flowering yarrow and borage.
Added to these was the remainder of the nettle in my yard and also the mugwort I tipped, which will hopefully bush up and provide plenty of material for a future mugwort beer.
The experiment was adding a can of wheat malt and also a box of Cooper's brewing sugar, both of which I found on special recently.
I've read that stinging nettle tastes best when brewed with brown sugar, so hopefully it'll taste okay.
Original gravity is 10.38 and I'm expecting to pitch yeast around 26C.
Once again Burning Seed was a wonderful experience shared with many friends
This year I didn't make many plans aside from supporting my partner, who'd committed to a few projects.
As a result I got to have a small part in the Forest Rising effigy led by Flamewriter Glenn Todd.
My role involved collecting soil and seedlings to make a garden at the base of this sculpture.
My partner Jo, through her role with Red Earth Ecology, worked on the murals that showed Wiradjuri seasons and fire management as well as local flora and fauna.
It looked incredible when the "puppet effect" was launched during the fire, see video below.
Some months ago a friend passed a cheese platter and indicated the soft blue was a recent favourite
As I bit into the creamy centre I thought it would have to be the Emporium Smooth Blue from Aldi.
Then I considered it might be the Castello Creamy Blue and wondered if I could tell the difference between them.
So I recently bought both and compared them, alongside a King Island Lighthouse Blue.
Served a slice of each onto a plate and, straight out of the fridge, the Smooth Blue was softer.
As I sampled each still cold, the Emporium cheese warmed quickly in my mouth and began to feel buttery.
It melted on my tongue, separating salty liquid and dairy solid.
In contrast the Castello Creamy Blue had much more mould and this would be significant.
By the time I had a second round about ten minutes later, Castello was getting the buttery result but it had a piquant quality that hit a high note both sharp in the palette and slightly fragrant.
When I looked at the nutritional count on the Castello and Emporium boxes, they were identical.
The ingredients looked similar too and both cheese are imported from Denmark.
I wonder if the noticeable increase in mould in the Castello shows it is cellared for longer?
Might this explain the difference in price between the two cheese?
The Emporium is 50g heavier than the Castello, with the latter on special at $5 -- which met the former and made both cheeses equal in price.
In contrast the King Island double-brie blue wasn't beginning to warm up until the final round.
As the blocks of cheese were eaten over the following days, I noticed I would grab the Emporium for a quick snack.
It would closer to being ready to consume, while the Castello would taste better after warming to the ambient temperature.
Recently I was tagged on Facebook for one of those things where you post favourite albums
The Ninja Tune record label has given inspiration for around two decades.
Music like Coldcut, who started the label, music from the periphery of bigbeat, triphop, downtempo and jazzier corners of turntablism.
Music like their Solid Steel radio show tagline (“the broadest beats”) a collage of soundtracks, soundbites and surprising breaks.
Funkungfusion must be someone’s idea of a term to encompass their variety of music.
Many of the producers on this sampler have great albums, but this one brings together a couple of rare gems.
Up, Bustle and Out’s version of ‘Emerald Alley’ is one of my favourites from a group exploring a world of music.
Likewise the live version of Coldcut’s ‘More Beats + Pieces’ has an energy that’s distinct.
One time a friend asked why the version of this song on their album doesn’t sound like the one she remembered.
I have many memories from taking over hi-fis at parties and playing these beats and pieces and seeing everyone moving with it.
Amon Tobin’s ‘Sordid’ is one of his snappiest tracks built from Gene Krupa samples, and he has a few of those.
That’s a good song when you’re mixing tracks because it can go around ten beats per minute faster or slower as required.
The jazz influence was big in the Ninja Tune roster and, while Cinematic Orchestra would define a serious-minded corner, Clifford Gilberto and Mr Scruff both found cartoonish interpretations.
There’s often a playful character to the music, like the latter’s song about singing fish baits an earworm.
DJ Food’s ‘The Crow’ has a sombre orchestral tone that seems like a coming of age for the moniker that was once an alternate for Coldcut to release breaks, but has been redefined by Kevin Foakes.
Likewise the “DJ Food Re-Bake” of The Herbaliser’s ‘Mrs Chombee Takes The Plunge’ steers that track back into jazzier territory.
The music on Funkungfusion carried me from making mixtapes to making mix CDs, then the wonderful Ninja Tune Forum community led me into remixing and having a hands-on experience with music again.
It’s great we’re still making Shinobi Cuts and the “Let Us Play!” ethos of Coldcut has been an influence throughout the last 20 years.
Recently I was tagged on Facebook for one of those things where you post favourite albums
There’s a lot to admire about Bjork and I’ve chosen her and this album to represent a number of influences.
When I first saw Bjork she was squeezed between The Smashing Pumpkins and The Ramones at the 1994 Big Day Out.
It still seems like a weird spot for her and I wandered in and out of that set but it was clear something new was coming to the surface.
Her album Debut had some airplay on Triple J and it was my first introduction to Nellee Hooper’s influence, since it’d be a couple more years before I listened to Massive Attack and Sinead O’Connor but also the trip-hop of Portishead.
Bjork worked with a number of interesting producers and managed to get a cohesive result, just look at how ‘Army Of Me’ and ‘It’s Oh So Quiet’ both sit on the first side of the album Post.
These collaborations between artists and producers are a dialectic central to popular music and, in many ways, it’s a formula I enjoy hearing in singers like Madonna and Kylie Minogue too.
Many popular singers get dismissed as record label products but those that build a career seem to be able to maintain a firm grasp on their image and material.
Madonna has a reputation for being present throughout the recording process and it seems clear that Bjork occupies a role overseeing the realisation of her albums.
I’ve picked Medulla because it seems Bjork’s album where she enforced a strict artistic vision with both her collaborators and her audience.
The album is almost entirely a cappella and manages to fuse both her taste in Warp Records-style electronica (particularly Mark Bell) and composers like Arvo Part, who’d she introduced me to musically.
The track ‘Where is the Line’ demonstrates those influences, for example.
Her voice sounds incredible on this album, particularly intimate and the recording is faultless.
I also love this album for ‘Triumph of a Heart’ and there are other themes which seem connected and optimistic.
Bjork has often been marginalised as “weird” but I adore her varied influences and abilities at realising challenging ideas in music.
Recently I was tagged on Facebook for one of those things where you post favourite albums
Jane’s Addiction had come to my attention via ‘Mountain Song’ on Rage and I still regret not accepting an invitation to see them perform at the Hordern Pavilion in 1991.
Ritual de lo Habitual blew my mind in terms of what could be done with a genre like rock, which had become a bit paint-by-numbers in the late ‘80s.
There were other bands successfully pushing boundaries in this area — and this album sits amongst Faith No More’s The Real Thing, Red Hot Chilli Peppers’ Bloodsugarsexmagic and then the watershed of Nirvana’s Nevermind — but I think it deserves more attention.
One critic argues Jane’s Addiction revived interest in Led Zeppelin and I’m not sure that ever went away, but I think this album paved a way for Soundgarden’s Badmotorfinger — which is a more obvious heir.
Ritual de lo Habitual has a huge dynamic range and the track ‘Three Days’ is particularly epic.
That track also exemplifies the beautifully understated bass playing of Eric Avery, which carries most of the song.
Both Flea and John Frusciante of the Chilli Peppers have acknowledged his influence.
As someone who’d ’Been Caught Stealing’ it surprised me that a song about shoplifting could be so funky and those dogs happily barking in the opening also spoke to me.
I still get a huge rush of energy when I hear the opening chords.
Recently I was tagged on Facebook for one of those things where you post favourite albums
Skunkhour were everything I was looking for in a band when they came to my attention in ’93.
They played the funk music that’d started shaking Sydney with hiphop influences and a distinctively Australian delivery.
I think the Larkin brothers, Aya and Del, are criminally overlooked as lyricists, and Del also did beaut illustrations for releases by other bands in their cohort, such as Swoop and Juice.
The self-titled Skunkhour debut showed they were able to sing about admiring arses (‘Bootyfull’) and also to consider gender roles (‘A Cow and a Pig’), as well discuss the heroin epidemic of the early ‘90s (‘Horse’).
Then the follow-up album Feed in 1995 expanded their focus musically and lyrically.
‘McSkunk’ was released as a single well in advance of the album and runs through a critique of capitalism exploiting natural resources. (It’s a theme they would later explore as the ballad ’Tomorrow’s Too Soon’ and that’s one of those songs that I love for making my eyes water.)
The track ‘State’ then slipped out on an EP and, as a first-year Philosophy student, I appreciated the parallels with Plato’s writing for comparing divisions in the soul with those in society.
I’d begun writing for Canberra’s BMA Magazine and spoke with guitarist Warwick Scott for a couple of interviews, as well as having opportunities to quiz the band after their shows.
Ahead of the release of the album Feed I got a promotional three-song cassette, which included ‘Treacherous Head’ and ‘Strange Equation’.
The former addresses our human impulses and their potential to undermine our best intentions, while the latter rhymed the song title with “race assimiliation” to discuss the hollow words that “all men are created equal” in the United States Declaration of Independence.
I’ve picked Feed as my favourite Skunkhour album as it showed the band hitting their stride and broadening their sound, literally with the addition of keyboardist Paul Searles.
‘Green Light’ is a phenomenal track to hear live as the Sutherland brothers lock in their bass and drum parts.
’Sunstone’ speaks of driving Australia’s back roads with wry observations that feel like an aural equivalent of a Russell Drysdale painting.
I’m also a fan of Skunkhour’s album Chin Chin with ‘Weightlessness’ another great dance song and the opening lyrics for ‘Childish Man’ are often quoted by me:
“If reality is ‘sposed to be the safest, why is everyone in some way an escapist?”
Recently I was tagged on Facebook for one of those things where you post favourite albums
As a bass-playing teenager I asked my peers about their bass-playing dreams and identified a trend in our lessons with Cliff Burton on the astral plane.
I remember a couple of dreams about Cliff and in one he was sitting on a high stool and showing me how to play arpeggios.
His parts on Master of Puppets are as superlative as Hammet’s guitar harmonies or Ulrich’s dynamic playing — that muted cymbal grabbed mid-riff in the title track, for example.
This was the heaviest album in the world for half of 1986 before Slayer released Reign In Blood, and I can still remember the way it challenged my ears when I heard it in '88 or '89.
These days I have difficulty reconciling that Metallica with the one that found wider fame singing about going to bed in ‘Enter Sandman’ the following decade.
Much has been written about the precision of the playing on this album and the massive sound achieved through layering over a dozen guitar recordings, which is testament to Hetfield’s role as one of the greatest rhythm guitarists.
The anger in his lyrics is palpable and I think I’m right in saying this was the last Metallica album to have a song inspired by HP Lovecraft.
A lot of the difference between Metallica in the ‘80s and the rock band that emerged in the ‘90s comes down to the death of Cliff Burton.
Burton’s basslines are as distinct as Ulrich’s famed drum parts, with their dynamic fills and propulsive rhythms.
Sadly, Master of Puppets is one of the last times bass playing would be a feature of the band.
When Jason Newstead replaced Burton Metallica ruined the sound of bass in heavy metal -- I argue it does as much as the dry cardboard box-like drum sound on the album Justice For All, particularly their first single ‘One’:
Those chords were otherworldly with their volume swells and added atmosphere.
I remember opening the Master of Puppets tablature and feeling aggrieved that the chords were transcribed for guitar when they were clearly Burton’s bass.
Recently I was tagged on Facebook for one of those things where you post favourite albums
This album brings together a couple of my favourite jazz musicians and captures in their music a fierce inter-generational argument.
Let me set the scene by explaining a bit about the personalities involved.
In 1917 when 'Duke' Ellington was eighteen, he'd wanted to become a painter.
In the decades that followed, Ellington remained a painter although it was in the guise of a prolific jazz composer.
In my mind he is one of the greatest musicians of the 20th Century.
In conducting his orchestra Ellington arranged music as though it were colour on a canvas, with deft movements of his hand (the piano his brush) he would sketch outlines for sonic landscapes and illustrate a path for the other musicians.
Yet Ellington should not be viewed as a maestro in the mould of European composers like Mozart; the Duke's talent was to recognise and arrange melodies that were created through the improvisation of his band.
I’s a model that performers like James Brown and Frank Zappa later used to great effect too, and probably akin to managing racehorses in pairing personalities for performance.
It was with wily leadership skills that Ellington stamped his ideas onto his musicians and, while he developed their talents, this leadership is his claim to authorship of so many jazz standards.
Money Jungle captures a lot of this stamping and more.
Ellington was 63 and, like Hollywood actors who’d fallen out of favour with movie studios or audiences, he was in the wilderness between bookings.
It would be a few years before he was celebrated again near the end of his life and there’s a painful story in Zappa’s book that Ellington would be reduced to visiting his manager and begging for money to survive.
For this album Ellington was paired with a couple of jazz giants from the next generation, 40-year old bassist Charles Mingus and 38-year old drummer Max Roach.
Mingus was so forceful that, despite being a bassist, he became a bandleader.
He had a reputation for being hot-headed and there are accounts from his students of leaving lessons with bruises from being punched.
There are also various stories as to why the recording sessions that became Money Jungle ended abruptly.
It was unusual for Ellington to record a piano-based album and it was Mingus who was signed to the record label, so the power dynamic was clearly tilted against the elder maestro.
I’d guess it’s the kind of approach that mightn’t have amused Mingus.
The album contains versions of a couple of Ellington standards.
‘Caravan’ was written by Ellington’s longtime band member Juan Tizol, who Mingus reportedly had fought with during his brief stint in the Duke’s band.
There are some wild versions of ‘Caravan’ that have been recorded since and it’s usually a song performed with a jazz orchestra but on Money Jungle you can hear Mingus playing a number of parts and making his mark with his remarkable bass playing.
Money Jungle isn’t the greatest album but it’s one that provides insights into how turbulent music can be when you mix strong personalities and musicians with different styles.
Recently I was tagged on Facebook for one of those things where you post favourite albums
Another soundtrack album and another that reminds me of my son Oscar.
When Jo was pregnant we listened to the Solaris soundtrack a lot.
It’s one of those albums that could be described as ambient in the sense that Brian Eno proposed the term, as the music easily slips into the background to mingle unobtrusively with daily noise.
Or with volume it can do a good job of masking noise too.
I also had an idea that it was good music to be heard by unborn Oscar.
Years earlier I’d read a story that babies in a British maternity ward would fall silent to the sound of the Neighbours theme song, as they relaxed like their mothers had done while watching the TV show during pregnancy.
So, after Oscar was born, Jo and I continued to play the album daily.
It’d go on when he lay down for an afternoon nap but I was never convinced it had the Pavlovian effect I’d hoped to see.
However, I feel very relaxed when we hear Cliff Martinez’s Solaris soundtrack.
And Oscar might be old enough now to appreciate the film, which felt like 90 minutes of not-much-happening before a wonderful insight came into focus afterwards.
Recently I was tagged on Facebook for one of those things where you post favourite albums
Saturday Night Fever was the first album I owned.
It was an unlikely birthday present at age eight from my grandfather Jack, who probably had been informed that I’d developed an interest in disco.
That would’ve been around the time I saw The Village People movie because a screening of The Empire Strikes Back was sold out.
‘Staying Alive’ remains a great tune, especially now I know the 100bpm tempo is the perfect pace for CPR chest compressions.
Walter Murphy’s ‘A Fifth of Beethoven’ is another fun track, one of those disco cover versions that can be really memorable at early hours on a dance floor.
I don’t listen to them much now but it’s been interesting for me to see my son Oscar has also gravitated towards these songs.
Recently I was tagged on Facebook for one of those things where you post favourite albums
If pressed for my all-time favourite album, it’s likely to be this one.
I first started listening to the Beastie Boys in 1986, when I bought Licensed To Ill at a Bondi Junction record store after seeing the ‘Fight for your right’ music video.
Check Your Head is my favourite of their albums for the mixture of musical styles, which range from the familiar sample-based hiphop through to punk rock and jazzy funk but particularly for the blending of these.
It’s also the album that brought in key contributors Money Mark and Mario C. and also saw a significant change in their approach to recording.
Where previous albums had developed with the three MCs writing rhymes over beats produced by the likes of Rick Rubin and the Dust Brothers; this album saw them spend a lot of time jamming then sampling their ideas and assembling tracks.
The shift was necessary as copyright had caught up with sampling and, while the Beasties had done well from British Airways, it’s still an issue for contemporaries like De La Soul — whose early albums are unavailable on many online services today.
Check Your Head was also the start of the Boys’ Buddhist influence and I think this redeemed them from some of their earlier sexism.
For me it’s been a cornerstone of my musical education, as I’ve used their ideas like self-sampling and also scaffolding to create my own tracks.
Many political commentators have failed to join the dots in explaining the instability faced by Australian prime ministers
That the current Prime Minister Scott Morrison is known for taking a piece of coal into Parliament should be a clue.
The coal was shiny with lacquer to prevent it tarnishing the hands of the Coalition’s front bench and this tacky prop is rumoured to have been supplied by the Minerals Council of Australia.
That organisation spent $22 million on advertising during May and June in 2010 to remove Prime Minister Kevin Rudd after he announced a Minerals Resource Rent Tax.
Likewise they responded angrily when Prime Minister Julia Gillard told the Minerals Council "you don't own the minerals" at their annual dinner in 2012.
Her observation seems fair and our Commonwealth should be proactive in ensuring this wealth is enjoyed by all Australians.
After Malcolm Turnbull lost the leadership, his son Alex said in an interview that a "very small number of people" who "own a lot of coal in the Galilee Basin" have "undue influence" in the Coalition Government.
Former Coalition minister and now Queensland Resources Council chief executive Ian Macfarlane welcomed the sudden elevation of Morrison to the role of Prime Minister, saying he “understands the importance of our most valuable industries – like resources.”
Dr John Kunkel, a former deputy chief executive of the Minerals Council of Australia, has been appointed Chief of Staff by the Prime Minister.
There is clearly an unhealthy link between the Coalition government and the mining industry.
While Scott Morrison has been keen to present coal as shiny and clean, the impact of organisations like the Minerals Council in tarnishing the Government and undermining Australian democracy is clear.
For over two decades now I've been claiming that my interest in pornography is academic
It was 1997 that I spent countless hours visiting so-called adult websites at uni claiming I was researching an essay on internet porn.
The particular assignment only got a credit as it was handed in late, after I prioritised writing about sperm donation for the student newspaper Woroni -- who would publish the porn essay the following year.
It was in my last year of primary school that I became obsessed with Japan
This was informed by an interest in samurai and ninjas but probably laid the groundwork for my haiku writing earlier this century to present day.
Aside from exploring martial arts, reading James Clavell's book Shogun and learning to love eating rice, one of the highlights was watching movies by Akira Kurosawa.
My mother saw the ANU film group were screening his work and kindly drove me to see The Seven Samurai.
I sat next to a couple who seemed to be at the film solely to kiss each other but hardly noticed.
In hindsight I can appreciate the skill of his filmmaking, it held the attention of a boy raised on television cartoons for around three hours of black and white storytelling.
The fight scene at the end is still epic.
However, I've also come to appreciate the influence Kurosawa had on other films.
George Lucas has spoken of the C3PO and R2D2 characters being inspired by two peasants in The Hidden Fortress, and the video below shows other influences from that film.
And when I realised the Italian westerns my father liked were remakes of Kurosawa, I became more interested in them.
This week I tried to interest my kids in watching Yojimbo, priming them with the Youtube videos that make Jedi of Kurosawa's ronin.
They didn't watch much of it but I got a new appreciation for the film.
First, the soundtrack is awesome. I've had the track covered below in my head for days.
Second, the scene with the dog holding a human hand is clearing referenced in my favourite movie of all time: Wild At Heart.
And, finally, my interest in film studies has been stirred by the observation that the formerly fascist countries of Italy and Japan both began making westerns in the decades after World War II.
What does it say about the countries that these films focus on a stranger coming into a lawless town and setting things straight with violence?
Do you know those times when you sense resonances across disparate subjects?
I've been having a few of those recently and it's surprising how, after reading across seemingly unrelated subjects, patterns start to form between them.
For example, I've mentioned my interests in fermentation starting with Kimchi to lately brewing beer, as well as Star Wars.
While reading Stephen Harrod Buhner's Sacred and Herbal Healing Beers: The Secrets of Ancient Fermentation, I've been learning about the mythology that informs -- as well as, in a sense, scripts -- the process of fermenting.
Many cultures describe the god-like figure that shared the first recipe for beer, gruit, mead or wine as being one who also returned from the dead or the underworld, possibly also as being a fertility figure with plants literally growing as a result of this heroic potency.
The stories explain processes like bacteria growing and seeds germinating, these illustrate how human culture grows with agriculture.
Both are demonstrated in beer-making too, particularly yeast and malt.
The respect for the ability to cultivate life underscores religion, just look at Jesus' bread and wine.
"...they were going to get into a microbiotic world."
George Lucas' space opera draws on mythic themes, particularly the apparently spontaneous inception of Annakin Skywalker as a parallel with the virgin mother Mary.
Then there's Skywalker's return from death as Darth Vader.
I guess his siring of the twins Luke and Leia might also be significant too.
Now that I think about it, it's significant that Star Wars has become a new kind of May Day in recent years.
Now the idea of Darth Vader as a fertility figure seems a bit weird, but as I read how indigenous cultures display few of the negative effects of alcohol, I pondered if he demonstrates the dark side of our relationship with fermentation.
Did Skywalker's anger lead him to misusing the sacred Force or did this antisocial tendency develop as a result?
Those Sith Lords seem like a bunch of lonely guys, right?
I’m keen to sit through it a second time because I expect it’s like watching The Sixth Sense and noting all the appearances of dead people with knowledge of the twist in the story.
Quotes like the one above stop being a signal of discontent and actively signpost the surprising twist in Nanette, where Gadsby seems to open an emergency exit and lead most of the audience through it — then talk back to those still seated as they realise what has happened around them.
That's a thing I'm marvelling, how she describes personal impacts and unites much of the audience in recognising their injustice yet leaves them blinking uncomfortably in the light of Gadsby's revelations and wondering how mainstream Australia can callously discuss issues like marriage equality.
Around the time I last mentioned Hape Kiddle, he invited me to join the exhibition that opened in Narrandera this week
Fragments is a collection of River Red Gum timber that Kiddle distributed to a number of people.
The fragments come from a massive trunk that will become a 2.2m Murray Cod.
Western Riverina Arts commisioned Kiddle to develop an exhibition for the Narrandera Arts Centre, so he sought perspectives from local artists and artisans.
When he initially asked what I'd develop, I suggested it might be music or poetry.
He left a piece partially burnt that made a few musical tones.
The more I looked at the wood, the more it seemed to be smiling and I thought I recognised that smile in the wood grain.
It was the power of the frog spirit, which are magical creatures that I've seen emerge from the ground like River Red Gums.
I suggested the title for the piece be "Co-opted" because I feel the frog spirit has been misappropriated to sell compund chocolate.
Kids let their hands move freely trying to find a four leaf clover Roses wait with thorns sharp like daggers the smell of rich perfume
Tall proud gum trees stand either side of the house the house with the tin roof as grey as the pictures inside Blue and solemn olive trees stand limp, waiting to be picked still like the black, inky statue in the front yard
A white, wired fence blocks strangers from stumbling through although the latch is as strong as a twig Henry’s cottage is a place to call home though thou shall need to dig deep through shrub to find it in Leeton town
Nice poster for Primus, who were one of my favourite bands in the early '90s
The artwork by Jimbo Phillips Graphix references their song 'Tommy The Cat' and you can hear it below.
Primus were one of my favourite live shows and I recall being unable to speak for the first few songs, which included memorably dropping the opening of Metallica's 'Master Of Puppets' into their song 'Pudding Time'.
The results of a recent survey that showed domestic violence increases on the nights of State Of Origin matches gives me ideas for tackling this scourge in our communities
It means a variety of resources can be directed to those peak times, but not just investing in shelters for women.
TV advertising during the matches could remind viewers there is no place for violence in the home.
An important form of influence could be to donate a percentage from ticket sales to shelters, hotlines and other support services.
Many studies have shown that when people recognise their role in responding to an issue, they feel empowered to act.
So a small step like raising funds and promoting this outcome could potentially have a deeper psychological effect on punters at the matches.
The longer term issue is to recognise that male violence is a cultural issue.
Not all males are violent and male violence is not seen at the same levels across all cultures.
For too long Australian governments have retreated from the idea of culture.
Sport and arts were separated decades ago from sitting together in a cultural portfolio, although there’s a lot in common between these activities — particularly in terms of performance and audiences.
A popular misconception is that male violence stems from frustrations that can only be expressed as anger while disinhibited by alcohol.
Alcohol plays a role but many commentators recognise that male violence is an expression of power.
Most would agree that violence is not a healthy form of expression but we need to change our culture to promote alternatives.
Many people find pleasure in the meditative qualities of sport and art and there are a wide variety of other benefits.
The challenge is to recognise the role of culture and to fund programs that are available for everyone.
Just as we know that exercise is good for us, art is good too.
Both activities can increase feelings of well-being and help regulate mood.
The problem I see is that too much government funding is directed to the elites of sport and art, rather than promoting these activities as available to the broader community.
It’s time to recognise culture and its potential in our communities.
Some friends on Facebook have asked where are the men discussing Eurydice Dixon
I don’t think I’m alone in struggling to articulate the injustice.
It occurs to me one reason I’m struggling to articulate a response is that Eurydice can’t explain the circumstances that led to her death.
If she had lived, she would’ve had to make the decision to report her assault.
It is widely recognised that few victims of sexual assault report the crime.
About a decade ago I got an insight into why so few undertake that process.
While living in a regional city I learned victims might have to drive two hours to a larger hospital to find a doctor willing to collect forensic evidence.
Does this suggest it’s easier to believe Eurydice’s corpse than it is to find a doctor in the country?
Maybe.
Reporting crime is one step in making sense of violence but it’s not an easy step.
My female Facebook friends have responded to Eurydice’s death by sharing experiences of male violence.
As a male I know male violence too and I think that’s why I feel powerless to discuss Eurydice.
Maybe if I was a corpse it’d be easier to believe I fear violence.
When I was assaulted I asked police to make a report and they said why bother.
I called a friend who worked a newspaper and asked him to write a story.
The journalist said it happens all the time, that’s not newsworthy.
I understand my story seems insignificant.
it’s commonplace but I still struggle to understand it.
Violence is senseless but as a society not much effort seems to be put into understanding it.
This is what I say for Eurydice Dixon: We need to change a culture that belittles violence.
I wonder if once we acknowledge our shared experiences of violence, we can look at how our culture normalises it.
The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other’s welcome, and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give win. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
This week I bottled my first batch of homebrewed beer
It was just the lager that came with the brewing kit but I couldn't help but tinker with the recipe and infused the water with mugwort and yarrow before adding the other ingredients.
As it fermented I remembered assisting my father brew his beer and then reflected on a passage in The Art of Fermentation by Sandor Ellix Katz where he discussed how brewers in previous millenia would call on the spirits to make alcohol.
We now know these spirits are yeasts and other bacterias but I like the idea that brewing beer links me to a tradition going back thousands of years.
The image shown comes from a Sumerian tablet showing people drinking beer with straws to remove the chunks that formed during brewing.
Katz' book also discusses how early European brews had a greater variety than our bottleshops today.
Local alcoholic drinks came to be known as gruits and their flavourings contained a combination of moderately narcotic herbs.
During the 11th Century the Holy Roman Empire awarded monopoly brewing rights as a way of collecting taxes and social control.
"Regulating beers and what could go into them across a vast territory effectively transferred power from the women who gathered herbs and brewed beer with it to the emergent institutions of empire."
Hops started to be used as a flavouring and preservative, particularly among German brewers who were outside of the control of the Empire but began mass production and transport to capitalise on the opportunities.
By the 1400s the beers brewed with hops were competing with gruits and the term beer became associated with barley-based drinks to which hops had been added.
Katz quotes Stephen Harrod Buhner as interpreting the rise of hops as part of competition between faiths.
"One of the arguments of the Protestants against the Catholic clergy (and indeed, against Catholicism) was their self-indulgence in food, drink, and lavish lifestyle... This behaviour was felt to be very un-Christlike indeed."
Buhner identifies that the aphrodisiac and psychotropic herbs used in gruits were discouraged, including yarrow, sweet gale and marsh rosemary.
Hops beer had alcohol but produced "subdued behaviour and eventual torpor."
"The result was, ultimately, the end of a many-thousands-years' tradition of herbal beer making in Europe and the narrowing of beer and ale into one limited expression of beer production -- that of hopped ales or what we call today beer."
The next brew in my fermenter is mugwort with rosemary and lemon.
It's been about a decade between tattoos but last Friday I got a new one
The design has been with me for even longer.
It might've been 15 years ago that I tore this graphic out of a magazine.
My Facebook friend Sally had posted a little while ago that she was looking for opportunities to work on skin, so I started thinking about what I might want to wear.
Then, while camping recently and looking at the flames, I remembered the design and pondered the significance of fire.
I've written this here before but I'll write it again: dreams are weird
This morning I awoke thinking about a retreat. It was led by Laura, who has led previous retreats I've been on but we were in a high school science class.
Laura and I talked about a scary feeling we were getting from the darkened corner of the science lab. She suggested that a woman at the retreat might use her spectrometer to investigate.
This woman drew an old SLR camera from her bag and took a photo. As the flash lit the dark area it revealed a bear skeleton lumbering towards us.
When I told my partner Jo about this dream, she suggested I should look up the symbolism of bears.
Some sources see them as symbols of earth, others as representing transformation for the way they seemingly die when hibernating and spring to life again.
