casbot

 

This post is going to be a copy-pasta job. I know this is cheating, but it’s either this or no posts. Maybe some more posts later, but my track record for the moment isn’t too hot.

So anyway, I wrote this back when I was being vegetarian – so, when I had a reason to know about it. I was getting tired of vegans hijacking the vegetarian forums, and saying things like, ‘milk is murder!’ and telling us we were not trying hard enough – if we were truly committed to the cause, we’d be full vegans rather than half-hearted vegetarians.

Edited for context (originally a post on a forum)…

 

***

Most humans lack the enzyme to break down lactose. This makes most humans lactose intolerant, it’s just that there are varying levels of reactions to the lactose. Some people will feel really sick, something akin to a stomach bug, some people experience respiratory distress, some people have the lactose pass right through their system without them ever feeling an ill-effect.

We’re so obsessed nowadays with labeling ourselves as one thing or another. “I’m lactose intolerant so I can’t have dairy” or “I’m gluten intolerant, so I can’t have anything with gluten”. Actually, wheat is not a really positive thing for humans to eat either, if we’re going to get technical. Our bodies aren’t set up to break down wheat proteins, which is why there are more and more people showing gluten intolerances. Some people are affected more than others.

Basically, milk is not what’s bad for you. It’s what they DO to the milk that causes the problems. The milk that comes out of the cow is a healthy thing for humans to partake of. It contains not only lactose, but also the enzyme required to break down the lactose. Through the act of pasteurising the milk (which is required by law here in Australia) this enzyme is removed, and with it the ability to break down the lactose.

The reason that it’s illegal to sell un-pasteurised milk is because of problems that occur when cows are fed on grain rather than grass. Grain that has mould on it (a common occurrence in most large dairy farms that feed their cows on stored grain) can pass bacteria through the milk, and humans drinking that milk can get sick from it. They decided to, rather than solving the problem by not feeding the cattle grain in the first place, heat the milk to extreme temperatures and strip it of it’s natural composition. This meant that the bad bacteria and cultures were removed, but so were the necessary enzymes.

If you live on a farm, have a cow that eats fresh grass and other good things, and you milk that cow, then the milk you can drink from it is very nutritionally beneficial. The protein-to-carbohydrate ratio and vitamins and minerals, not to mention active white blood cells, are some of the reasons why milk has been such a big part of a lot of traditional diets for thousands of years.

I’m not saying that you can’t live without milk – of course you can. I’m just saying that some of the reasons put forward to condemn the product are a bit under-researched, facile and obnoxious.

The real problem is not the fact that people consume milk, and saying “milk is murder!!!!1!!one” is pretty much having the opposite effect I think those who say it intend. The problem is those aspects of the dairy industry that perpetuate the horrible treatment of cows and calves, and fail to give the public proper information about what they’re consuming and that there is another option. If we had the option of purchasing milk from cows left to graze the fields, feed their calves, and go through natural cycles of life, and without the pasteurisation, that would be a much better alternative to drinking milk from cows that have horrible things done to them.

A similar thing happened with chickens. I like eggs. It doesn’t mean I’m eating undeveloped chicken foetuses. For years and years we owned chickens that roamed our backyard and provided eggs on occasion scattered through the garden. There was no rooster around, so the eggs were unfertilised. The only reason I don’t still have my own chickens is because I live in the city now and there are rules about what sort of animals you can and can’t have in close proximity to other people. You have the choice here to buy free range, organic eggs, or the cage eggs which are cheaper but I will never buy personally. We should be given a similar choice with milk.

No, a vegan diet is not impossible, but neither is it the only humane way to sustain yourself.

 

 

I’ve started to read the book version of ‘Game of Thrones’. I’m over halfway through, and it feels like I’m in a race with the TV episodes, to read ahead in the story before we watch the next episode. Because of my sporadic reading habits of late, it hasn’t happened. I read a little bit of the book in the morning, when I’m waiting for people to get to work so I can go in, and also on my lunch break, but it’s difficult to concentrate.

I don’t know what I’m talking about.

So, back to Game of Thrones (the series is actually called ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’ but for some reason whoever is in charge decided it should just be named after the first book). I’m really enjoying the series. There are a few characters that have become favourites of mine, and some that I despise, which is a good measure of the depth of character provided, and the believability of their motivations and reactions. It’s also difficult to say which side is good and which is bad, and a slowly unfolding moral ambiguity is always fun.

Daenerys Targaryen is one of the characters I like. I’ve written about her before, not long ago. Despite being the last in a long genetic line of habitual inbreeding, she’s not (so far) insane like her father and brother. In the last episode, her brother, Viserys, had boiling gold poured over his head (because Khal Drogo promised him a golden crown, get it? lol!!1) and I’m glad, because he was crap. That’s a picture of him on the left (click for a bigger version). He’s definitely not one of my favourites.


Another decent character is Jon Snow. Not only is he cute (look at that baby face!), he’s also an awesome swordsman and looks out for his friends. There’s some conjecture as to his parentage, because the surname ‘Snow’ indicates that he is a bastard. He’s supposedly Ned Stark’s bastard son, but Tim keeps telling me that there’s more to the story, and even though he’s read all the books released thus far, he’s still not aware of the truth of the matter. To me, it’s irritating that they keep talking about things like it’s already cut and dried – he’s Ned’s bastard. Later on, if they come out and say, “Oh, actually, he was Ned’s sister, Lyanna’s son, and he was protecting her honour,” I’ll be mightily peeved. Because right now, it doesn’t seem like that’s much of a mystery at all.


Khal Drogo is hot, though Tim depletes his appeal somewhat by constantly referencing Drogo’s pectoral muscles. “He needs to get a bra,” and “His boobs are bigger than Dany’s!” Never mind the fact that Dany is supposed to be 13. Maybe having dragon blood means you develop faster? Unfortunately, Khal Drogo’s costume only serves to support Tim’s opinion. I’m sure if he wasn’t wearing a corset-type thing, the issue wouldn’t be quite so pronounced. Costume dramas aside, the presence of the khalasar adds a possibility of anarchy to the mix – Daenerys may be the rightful heiress to the throne, but there’ll be a whole huge mess if Khal brings his horsey family over the narrow sea to King’s Landing.

 

 

Tim told me a little while ago that he bought a new TV from JB Hi-fi online, and that it’s getting delivered on Wednesday (probably). He also got a replacement laptop for the one that the taxi drove off with in Boston in February of this year.

He got us a 40″ (read: 101cm. We are NOT imperial here, you retail jerks!) Sharp Quattron. We’ve been looking at this TV for some time now, because our current TV only has one HDMI slot, and it’s annoying having to use the switchy thing every time we want to use the PS3 (because the Foxtel IQ uses HDMI as well).

In any case, it’ll be interesting to experience a new depth of colour on TV. The picture’s not bad, either. It’s also an LED LCD, which means it uses far less power than our existing TV, which is only a plain old LCD. I think the plan is to put our existing TV into our bedroom, and put the one that’s in our bedroom into the spare room, so that our houseguests will be able to watch TV at their leisure too.

It might entice me to play my games more, but I’m not sure. It always makes me feel bad when Tim points out how little I play the games that have been purchased specifically to suit my tastes (eg. Mario games, Donkey Kong, Animal Crossing). I have trouble playing the Zelda game for the Wii because the whole mood of the game environment is dark, and it gives me anxiety. When I’m playing as the wolf, it reminds me of that book ‘The Metamorphosis’; also a dream I had when I was younger that my father had been turned into a piece of ham with black & white twirly circles for eyes.

 

AFL is a stupid game because it has no shape of playground, and the whole game rests on free kicks. There’s really not much else going on, because everyone aims to get free kicks.

Still, the guys are much more beguiling to watch in AFL than in NRL. It’s like the difference between an antelope and a rhinoceros, where the antelope is an AFL and the rhino is an NRL.

 

Tim and I went to Wellington for the Easter long weekend (also my birthday). I’d never been to Wellington before, but being that it is in NZ, odds were good it was going to be beautiful.

Wellington is green, windy, hilly and lovely. We stayed in the Intercontinental Hotel, which advertises itself as ‘the only internationally 5-star rated hotel in Wellington’, which I found sort of amusing, but I’m not even sure why.

We were pretty close to a lot of things. The harbour was only a couple of streets away, as was the Cable Car, and Te Papa was just down the road as well.

The construction of Wellington is something I can’t even fathom. Houses cling to the sides of the incredibly steep hills that surround the harbour; in the city centre, buildings tower over others simply because of the dramatic incline the further you get from the water.

Also, I got to try feijoa for the first time in my life. Like chinchillas, I was not even aware this thing existed. They’ve got a strange, medicine-y flavour that’s not at all unpleasant. And the other day, I found that Delicurious has feijoa lemonade, and it was good. I tried to find a reasonable-sized picture of the lemonade, but apparently, Charlie and his Honest Thirst Quenchers don’t like cooperating with me or my blog.

And so we’re now at the point where I humour those who are inclined to say, “Pics or it didn’t happen!” Though why they’d say that to me is anyone’s guess. It’s not like I’ve made outlandish claims of my crazy adventures.

Here’s my own picture of the cable car (this is a stock standard tourist photo, apparently)

Cable car

Aaaand here it what you’d be seeing if you were in that cable car

Down we go

 

Here’s a zoomy looky device with a face

And here’s a more disturbing face, in a playground.

Kids, could you get your old pappy some smokes?

The puppets in NZ have attitude (from the ‘kid’s store’ in the Te Papa Museum)

Why I eyes ya

I think this lion statue looks really awkward and uncomfortable

Roarrragh my back!

Well, I’m sold!

All things in life are fleeting

 

 

When I haven’t written for a while, I have to make a lot of revisions to a piece of writing before I am happy with the flow and content.

I’m discovering that more and more, as I used to blog much more prolifically than I do now, and I think not writing may be affecting not only my ongoing ability to write at all, but also the way I process information and my understanding of my own feelings.

That is, I’m far more capable of coping with things when I’ve written about them. I understand things better when I’ve put my thoughts into words.

I like writing, and the longer I leave between posts, the harder it is to start up again. Anyway.

I’ve recorded the tv miniseries version of ‘Pillars of the Earth’ by Ken Follett. I’ve held off watching it so far, because I’ve found when Tim and I start watching a series without having the whole thing to watch at our leisure, it’s too irritating. The Pillars of the Earth thing is being shown over four nights, but I don’t think I would be watching the whole four eps at once.

Tim and I have been watching ‘Game of Thrones’, which is by an author Tim calls Fat Man Martin. The tv series is pretty good. I haven’t read the books, but Tim gives me a running commentary, and that makes the show better because I get a lot of subtext and knowledge of what’s going to happen, the underlying reasons and background for characters and situations, and more details than the show reveals.

For example, one of the characters, Daenerys Targaryen, is married off to Khal Drogo, who is the leader of a crazy tribe called the Dothraki. In the tv show, Daenerys looks like she could be around 20. In the book, she’s about 13 when she gets married off to the Drogo guy (they don’t let you in on that in the tv show). There are a lot of other creepy things going on in the story – incest seems to be a common theme, as does mental illness and regicide.

Dothraki be crazy

Daenerys and her lovely new family

Another show we’ve been watching lately is ‘Boardwalk Empire’. I’m really enjoying that, as well. It’s about time Steve Buscemi got his very own tv show. He’s awesome. The show is set in prohibition-era America, mostly in Atlantic City. Surprisingly, Marky Mark (read: Mark Wahlberg) is an executive producer, as is Martin Scorcese. I think that’s a pretty weird combination, but it seems to be working (though, as Tim says, do executive producers actually do anything?). In any case, I recommend it.

 

Since I received half of a new MacBook Pro from Timotei for my birthday (OH YAY), I’ve been going through the files stored on my portable hard drive.

There are a lot of pictures. When I’m on the web, StumbleUponing or whatever, and I find a picture I find aesthetically pleasing in some way, I save it. Consequently, I’ve got a whole heap of various folders full of pictures that I rarely get a chance to revisit.

Now that I’m deciding what to transfer to my MacBook Pro, so as to hopefully have a more logical file architecture than my previous computer, I get to go through all these images again. It’s fun! And here are some pretty CGI pics I’ve found over the last couple of years or so.
Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket

All images are copyright (c) their respective owners. If you own any of these images, or know who does, feel free to email me  at copyright at casbot dot com dot au.

 

I’m enjoying the ‘who’s online?’ plugin for WordPress. It’s a lot of fun. I don’t know how people find my blog, because the only people I promote it to are those I know personally, but for some reason there are people from all sorts of places visiting. Hi! Ni hao! Dobry den! Hej!

Chris and I went to Chinatown today and had yum cha at our favourite, Hingara. Then we went to one of my favourite shops, and I don’t even know the name of it. It’s near the Momo shop in one of those arcades that come off Dixon Street. I bought a thing that is sort of like a mask, but also not really. I’m not entirely sure what it’s meant to be, but I think it might be a fan.

I’m tired, so I’m not able to be all that successful in conveying my thoughts into words that are interesting and readable.

It’s Mary’s last week next week, which I’m quite sad about. Also next week is my bday, and we will be in Wellington. I’m looking forward to the cabley car.

Wellington cable car

I’m surprised that Tim could go up this cabley car at all, considering his debilitating fear of heights. Here is a bridge that made his face completely white:

Tim's undoing

This bridge is in Canada, close to Vancouver. Tim and I started walking across, and he started getting scared a few steps out, and so he turned and went back to solid land. I continued on, and got to play in the treetops over the other side (they had lots of platforms and ladders and rope bridges and everything a person could want to play on). Whenever we talk about it, Tim increases the distance he says he got out to on the bridge, until it’s almost to the point where he crossed the bridge, and walked through the woods on the other side.

Just now I showed him the picture, and he said, ‘oh yeah, that’s the bridge I went 15 metres out on!’. And then, ‘What are you writing about? How I walked out 25 metres?’

The bridge is called the Capilano Suspension Bridge, and it’s pretty fun. When we were walking across it, there were some dumb kids jumping up and down and running back & forth, and making the bridge sway, which might have contributed to Tim’s reluctance to continue on it. It was still good.

 

I don’t know why, but each night I start a new post. And the next night, I open my laptop and see that I never even did anything with that post. I think I just keep getting distracted by stumbleupon, and emails, and Tim and Po. I’m not really blaming anyone. My brain is easily distracted.

Tim didn’t believe me that n was an actual thing. I like to relate this back to the saying ‘the nth degree’, is the furthest possible point to take something. Coming from a mathematical point of view, I’d relate that back to polynomials (i.e. from Wikipedia: “The degree of a polynomial is the highest degree for a term with non-zero coefficient in a polynomial expressed in canonical form…“). Tim didn’t believe that ‘n’ stood for anything other than just an unknown number. ‘N’ is used to refer to the set of all natural numbers, which is infinite, but countable (countably infinite).

In any case, I’m going to make the connection between the saying and the definition of ‘n’.

Tim and I are going to Wellington next weekend. That also means that next weekend is my birthday! I’m happy about it. Also, it’s Easter, so it’s fun. I don’t know what I want for my birthday (other than a MacBook Pro, which I know I won’t get), but I know what I don’t want:

* tickets to that Justin Bieber movie
* John Howard’s book
* polyester pyjamas
* capsicum
* ennui

Actually, I was keen on the idea of getting a new tattoo for my birthday, as a present to myself, but I am so far without any clue as to who is a decent artist here in Sydney. I have done a little bit of research, but so far all the ones I like the look of seem to be booked out for at least 18 months. I know it’s good to think about tattoos and be sure of it and everything, but I feel like I’ve been thinking about this now for years. I want a new tattoo! I think I want a koi. But I’m not sure where, so I guess I would still have to think about that. It’d be good to have the tattoo artist to discuss it with, because I think they’d have good suggestions as well.

I’d like to post some pictures, but I can’t seem to create paths on the server (for image files). I’m not sure what the problem is, but I also don’t have the time or inclination to do further research into it right now, especially when I can just use photobucket.

Also, I did this thing called the Pierley/Redford Dissociative Affect Diagnostic (found through Stumbleupon) and here’s what it came up with for me:

Fond of tradition, but attached more to the joy of human interaction, you are often a beacon of hope to those members of society who have lost faith or who are in need of succor. You are often emotional, and this emotionality is rarely held in check. Kind and helping by nature, when affronted you will explode, and just as suddenly when the pain has passed return to normalcy again. On occasion this quick and vibrant emotionality is translated into a life on the stage or screen. You have a strong sense of right and wrong, but can sometimes be left confused and uncertain in times of stress or when tough decisions must be made. You avoid conflict, tending to stay out of trouble in hopes that the group will benefit most from this behavior. Because you have trouble putting your own needs first, you will be put in much stress if you find yourself in an unequal relationship, one in which your partner is not as giving as you are.

So, in some ways it’s scarily accurate. But countering that is the fact that I did this test a few days ago (on the weekend, I think) and it said something different (I can’t remember the answers I gave that time) which was also quite accurate, but in different ways. I’m not saying that it’s not a clever program, because it’s got more insight than any online test I could make, but maybe it’s only relevant for the mood that you’re in at that point in time. Make up your own mind on it here.

Here are some things you might see in Sydney:

Man jumping out of tree in Wentworth Park
Man in tree in Wentworth Park

mutant children
Myer at Chatswood
Targeting mutant children for their latest formalwear collection

Waiting for the bus
Outside Myer, corner of Market & George Sts
Who is this woman? It’s a mystery. And that’s why, so is mankind.

creepy doll
In a shop that’s part of the same building as the Four Seasons Hotel, Sydney
This doll wants to steal your soul and drag it into the depths of hell.

great mannequin
In Haymarket (Chinatown)
A happy, ursine mannequin (Rilakkuma!)

nom nom
At Taronga Zoo
‘I wonder what  happens when I put my hand here?’

Lastly, you should read A Small Free Kiss in the Dark by Glenda Millard. I know it’s technically young adult fiction, but it’s just a good book. The writing flows easily; Glenda Millard is a pro story-teller.

<3

 

Since the weather has started to cool down again, I’m being reminded of the same time last year. Cold weather is awesome, and it’s one of the main things that I was looking forward to about Sydney – a real winter. Unlike Brisbane. Brisbane just randomly decides, “Oh, today I might not be oppressively humid and hot. But don’t count on tomorrow!” I really love the weather here, when it’s being normal.

I’m remembering when we first moved here, and I’m trying to remember what it felt like being a relative stranger in Sydney, with only vague childhood memories of certain places as reference points. It feels like an entirely different place to the beginning of last year.

I found Sydney intimidating in the beginning. It was difficult to find my place (even though that’s really just something in my own mind). I didn’t know how to exist as myself here, whether or not I would be accepted. When you move to a new city, you get the feeling that you’re different in ways you can’t even begin to understand (to start with, anyway). I felt incredibly conspicuous.

It’s also a weird thought when you realise that not many people are aware of your existence in this new place. While feeling like I stood out as someone not from ‘here’, I also felt like I was invisible in other ways.

After a while, the out-of-the-ordinary becomes the ordinary, and it starts to feel a little bit more comfortable. You start to find your niche. You make connections, even if they’re not friendships to start with.

Being part of something speeds up the process. It’s like a catalyst – for something that would have happened anyway, getting a job or enrolling in a course just makes everything happen faster. You’ve got more opportunities to meet people, make connections, learn your place in the new scheme of things.

I was lucky throughout all of this – my best friend moved to Sydney around the same time as me. As did one of our mutual friends. And then another of our mutual friends had already been living in Sydney for a couple of years. So, I had built-in friendships, a ready-made support network.

I really like Sydney. I’ve come to recognise myself as a citizen of this place, even just a temporary one, rather than just a visitor. I take ownership of my past as a child of Queenscliff/Manly, and it makes me feel a little more like I belong here.

Sydney is a beautiful city. I’d like to have the opportunity to live in other places in Australia, such as Melbourne, so maybe that’s something for the future. Right now I’m happy where I am.

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