Here is my bookcase. Well, one of them, probably the most interesting one. There are others elsewhere in the house containing CDs and kids books; videos; boring geeky books and magazines.

If there is one thing I regret about my book collection it’s that in early adulthood I was so addicted to TV that I read a lot of crappy novelisations of my favourite TV shows. Most of them were a complete waste of time, when I could have been reading the kind of genuinely imaginative, innovative works that some Real Authors put out. (Currently reading Neal Stephenson’s Cryptonomicon).

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Bill Bryson: A Short History of Nearly Everything. Almost more of a history of scientists than a history of science. As all of Bryson’s books are, I found this highly amusing, as one reads of the discoveries we humans have made over the centuries, seemingly more often by mistake than with any intent. I must confess I found it a little heavy-going about three-quarters of the way through (not a unique experience when I read his books), but it picked up again towards the end. Okay I skipped the extensive endnotes and bibliography. All in all, a great read, thoroughly recommended.

Next, I embark on Neal Stephenson’s Cryptonomicon.

I finished Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash a few weeks ago. At some stage I’d like to read it again, as some of the theology references flew past way over my head. But thoroughly excellent nonetheless.

Last week I started reading Bill Bryson’s A Short History Of Nearly Everything. The opening chapters talk about the creation of the universe, and I couldn’t help but think of the Monty Python Galaxy song

“So remember when you’re feeling very small and insecure
How amazingly unlikely is your birth
And pray that there’s intelligent life somewhere up in space
‘Cos there’s bugger all down here on Earth.”

So I read about the Big Bang, the way the universe grew into what it is today, the infinitesimal likelihood of the events that have resulted in (allegedly) intelligent life. Then I looked up from the book, around the train, and had this strange feeling of inconsequentiality and pointlessness.

Hmmm. It passed after a few minutes.

The Crow Road (Iain Banks). I just finished reading this. The ending nicely tied up the story, and it was a great read. I think for me one of the signs of a great writer is that Banks was able to throw up thoughts and concepts along the way that most would consider are thought-provoking enough that they could be expanded into more depth, but rather than dwell, he is able to leave them behind, to keep on going with the story onto yet more ideas to tease the mind with. And all wrapped up in an intriguing and fun plot.

I gather the Marita and Justine Reading Advisory Committee already have something else lined up for my next read.

Futurama… I caught an episode or two of this when it originally aired, before Channel 7 played shuffle the programme schedules with it, and it disappeared into late-night purgatory. Now you can pick it up on DVD for $33 a season, so I bought the first one and started watching it with the kids. Like its stablemate The Simpsons, it’s funny stuff, all sorts of little things you might not notice if you don’t watch carefully.

Then of course, you get little moments like when Bender says “I’m going to start my own amusement park. With beer. And hookers”.

And sure enough your nine-year-old pipes up “Dad, what’s a hooker?”

I stammered a cop-out “it’s a long story” response, and we got back to watching the show. Will have to think carefully about that one, and any reasonable response may eventually expand into The Talk. Still, that’s why it’s PG. Parental Guidance is not just about deciding if the kids can watch it, it’s also about watching it with them and providing guidance and answers to their questions about the content. (Umm. Which I didn’t. But I will. Eventually.)

Halo (XBox) and Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (XBox). I’ve bitched before about modern video games, but these are both great. The craft has obviously been honed in the last few years, with developers concentrating on usability as well as those eye-dazzling 3D graphics and sound.

What these two games have in common is that like a movie, they have a plot worked out, and the first parts of the storyline ease you into the game, get you accustomed to the controls, characters and surroundings. It really works well — you can take your first steps around at your own pace, and linger in one location if you like, before moving onto the next stage. The stage transition is less obvious in Halo, but both share the idea of changing objectives (for instance Halo’s find the survivors on the mountain vs Harry’s find Ginny’s stuff in Diagon Alley) and mini-games. Like getting to the top of a screen in Donkey Kong, complete the objective and you’ll move on through to the next part of the plot.

Another big factor is the behaviour of the computerised characters. In Harry Potter, most of them do bugger all, many just standing about. In Halo the marines run around, helping you help them, saying different things, and though there’s a fixed storyline, the aliens’ behaviour varies a fair bit too. Both games have other characters who direct you to things, or tell you what needs to happen next.

I’ve only gone a little way into these two games (no, I didn’t play them all day when I was sick at home on Tuesday), and there’s a lot more to explore. But both very enjoyable so far.

What the FUCK do you think you’re doing, Mr White Stationwagon? Where the FUCK did you get your driver’s licence? Why the FUCK do you think you can decide as you’re driving through an intersection in the left hand lane, that you are suddenly going to turn right, across three lanes of traffic, cutting me off as I’m about to turn right the other way, leaving my car helplessly stuck in the intersection? It’s not as if that’s a FUCKING hook turn there, and even if it was, you didn’t do it FUCKING properly, did you?

Ahem. Pardon that burst of invective, but I don’t particularly like having sudden scares like that as I’m peacefully driving home of an evening. I think I’ll eat some chocolate.

The rest of the day before that was comparitively calm. Went to work, did stuff, had dinner, headed home.

At Melbourne Central Station I tried to balance on some weirdo bar things they’ve installed, which are too low to sit on or lean against, and got out the book I’ve been reading, Sue Townsend’s Public Confessions of a Middle-Aged Woman. It’s not quite as compelling as Adrian Mole ever was, and on some train journeys I can’t be bothered getting it out to read it. But I’ll keep at it for a bit longer, if only because (a) my sister gave it to me, and I’d feel guilty if I didn’t give it a proper go, and (b) given its extremely pink cover, to prove I’m comfortable with my sexuality by reading it in public.

When I got off the train I wandered into the supermarket, thinking I might pick up one or two items, and coming out with $25 worth. The teenaged checkout chick was astonishingly chirpy to each customer, jabbering away as she scanned things, asking if I’d been at work, had it been a hard day, how many hours I worked (?!) and finally remarking as she scanned the two chocolate bilbies I’d bought for the kids’ Easter presents, “Oh! They’re so cute!” It’s situations like these that I always wonder what the reaction would be if a jumbo box of condoms was in the mix.

It’s been a fun April Fools Day, scouring the media for spoof reports. On the net the most successful has been the Google “G-Mail” one, having been picked up by the major outlets including CNN, BBC and News.com. I suppose they can all claim later they were in on the joke. The original press release pretty much gives it away. ABC Online originally covered it like the others, but now seems suspicious. Funny stuff.

PS. 2/1/2004. Or is it real after all??

Late yesterday (31/3) I was contacted by a major publisher, who propose adapting my diary into a book. They want to use all of it going back to 1994, and if all goes well plan to put it out in time for Fathers Day (September) in Australia and NZ, with a view to UK, USA and Canada for Christmas or early next year.

Obviously they are keen to protect possible revenue, and have asked that the diary be taken offline. I will discuss this with them in the next few days and hope to get at least some material back here, but in the meantime, I apologise for any inconvenience.

Happy April Fools’ Day. Bet it doesn’t fool anybody.

Still, thought it was better than claiming I’d been dooced or something.

Finally got around to seeing Return of the King yesterday. Mumble mumble, couldn’t get Gold Class tickets before now, mumble mumble. I’m a little miffed that on top of the $30/seat Gold Class price (expensive perhaps, but the service and comfort do make it worth it for movies like this) I was stung an additional $10 fee because I booked through their web site.

Uhh.. now look, I know that web sites aren’t necessarily cheap to build, but once built the whole idea is that they eliminate having to pay for a human to do mundane things like take bookings. Save the humans for pointing you to the right cinema and serving the drinks, that’s what I reckon. And for fixing the Ticket ATM thing, which in theory should have been able to spit out the tickets when we arrived, but in practice decided the whole thing was too hard, and spat the dummy instead, redirecting me to the ticket booth. If the procurement of tickets was all automated, it should theoretically save the cinema company money, and thus be cheaper, not more expensive.

Anyway, what a ripper of a movie. Even though I knew pretty much what was going to happen, still very exciting, right up until the very end, which possibly dragged on a tad too long. At almost three and a half hours long, I’m left wondering how long the extended version will be when it comes out on DVD, and if its cinematic release will necessitate an interval. Quite a few people were seen dashing out to the loo midway through. Spectacular scenery and special effects. Overall: excellent, thoroughly enjoyable.

I also finished reading David Malouf’s Johnno over the weekend. Quite interesting throughout really, though possibly more so for the fact that it documents times and places that my father grew up and lived in. Without that link I’m not sure it would have been as enjoyable, but for me, certainly a good read.

Next I tackle something much more in keeping with my generation: Neal Stephenson’s The Diamond Age.

Tintin turned 75 on Saturday, and he still doesn’t look a day over 16. The Belgians, ever eager to remind the world where he’s from, have issued a special 10 euro coin to help celebrate.

Upon reading about this in the paper over the weekend, memories of the books came flooding back, and a flick through some of them showed they are just as entertaining as they were in my childhood. Captain Haddock’s expletives brought a particular smile. Crab with the Golden Claws provides the earliest examples, Haddock calling the villains various names including heretic, slave-trader, technocrat, hydrocarbon, gyroscope and the possibly not-considered-for-its-political-correctness-at-the-time Aborigine.

Harry Thompson(with a p)’s book Tintin - Hergé and his creation is an excellent read for any Tintin fan - a critical look at the creation, with detail on the design, writing and inspiration of Hergé’s comics, including the background events of the time. One, the German occupation of Belgium, led to later criticism that Hergé had collaborated with the Germans, but Thompson’s conclusion is that far from it - Hergé directly parodied them in The Black Island and King Ottokar’s Sceptre, with the dastardly Müsstler having a name that is the combination of Hitler and Mussolini, and the fascist regime Borduria representing Germany.

Pages 100-102 of Thompson’s book go into some detail about how and why Haddock’s impressive vocabulary came into being, Thompson writing that for the most part it consists of variations on the themes of piracy, dark age barbarianism, and the early stages of man’s development, and he goes on to reveal some of their meanings, including those of Bashi-bazouk, cyclotron, pyrographer, Moujik and poltroon.

Thompson writes: Hergé combed dictionaries and reference works for suitable words, which had to be threatening-sounding but innocuous. Only once did he make a mistake, when he used the word “clysopump”, a rather graphic medical term to do with the bowel. One of Hergé’s team then forged a joke letter from an outraged parent, claiming his offspring had been scarred for life.

Tintin books are still around of course, and the recently-made TV series is shown on the ABC at the moment. No, it’s not ideal — as everyone knows, the voices are wrong, of course — but thank goodness the style of the animation at least matches the books. Haddock’s whisky-drinking and pipe smoking have vanished so as not to give the kiddies any bad ideas, though the tragic way his alcoholism was portrayed in the books might very well have helped keep me well clear of alcohol until well into my 20s.

Asterix, too, is in the news, with a new Asterix book recently published (despite half of the creative team having been dead for a quarter of a century) featuring rare and previously unpublished-in-English comics.

When I was growing up, I leant towards Tintin, probably because I didn’t understand most of the puns in Asterix - and puns are a key part of it. But they’re both great creations. I’ll be looking out for the Asterix book, and I may just dig my Tintin books out of the cupboard again.