Hieronymous the Anonymous

Julian Assange and me

I got an email overnight from a friend currently living in Hong Kong. She was browsing online some American publication when she came across an article about Julian Assange. This piece was all about his dating activities, and included as excerpts screenshots of the site he used - OkCupid.

Well, I'm on OkCupid too (though only for the tests), and quite weirdly staring out from the page was my rugged and handsome countenance also. In a sidebar they listed other members similar to Julian Assange based on the results of personality tests in common, and I was one of them. Strange to consider I have similarities to one of the most reviled men on the planet, though the comment beneath my picture stating I was 'Less ambitious' peeved me no end.

Less ambitious? Sure, I've stopped short of world domination, let alone the notoriety he's enjoyed, and yet something in me hrmphed at that conclusion. Less ambitious? Maybe, but not less competitive.

A golden glow

It was a warm day yesterday and after work as we do usually we adjourned for a few cooling ales. I left a little after 6 to catch up with a girl on the other side of the city. We had a spicy Thai meal together and then went back to her apartment for a bottle of wine.

It was still light when I came out. The heat came from the ground and the sunlight seemed infused with an extraordinary glow. It was as if the light came from all around, reflecting a golden glow. I walked amongst it with my eyes wide taking it all in. In the street tourists waddled by in their shorts and attractive Asian girls in cotton dresses that hitched up with every step. I turned the corner wondering at all this until I caught up with a friend at a rooftop bar for another drink or two. I made mention of none of this beyond the prosaically obvious what a lovely evening.

Later, when it was dark and I was in a taxi on the way home I thought about the light earlier. It delighted me somehow, as if it was peerfect, as if that is how it is meant to be. I looked out the window at the passing scenery, shops with sale signs in the window, people waiting for trams. I realised that what I had been witness to earlier was like the perfect summer of our memories, where everything is bathed in the golden glow of nostalgia.

We paint those colurs in in retrospect normally - yesterday I was lucky enough to have it for real.

Savoury, but sweet

I had a few people over for a new years barbecue last Sunday. It was the perfect day for it, sunny without being too hot, everyone in good spirits and the food - if I do say so myself - top notch.

As usual I made a variety of dishes, most of them for the first time. I made Moroccan style kebabs, chicken infused with garlic and thyme, an Italian panzanella (tomato and bread) salad, a salad of beetroot with feta cheese and red onion, as well as the usual staples like steak (marinated) and snags.

Amongst all this abundance two dishes stood out for me.

The first isn't a dish actually, but the walk in the door cocktail I prepared. It was pretty scrummy: atrawberries muddled with cucumber, basil and ginger, mixed with Pimms, sweet vermouth and pomegranate molasses. Poor into a glass with ice and top up with dry ginger ale. Man, it was fabuloso.

The other was dessert, which was simplicity itself: strawberries again, mixed with sugar, shredded basil and balsamic vinegar. The trick is for the vinegar to be nicely aged and syrupy. Serve with ice-cream and you have the perfect summer dessert.

Bitter ashes

Tough being an Aussie right now. Not often I say that, but every Australian cricket supporter is in a state of abject shock transmuting into sardonic disdain. It's hard losing to the Poms any time, it's tough losing the Ashes, but what really grates is the manner of our defeat. We may have one match, but otherwise this team has been thumped like no Australian team before.

It's hard to know how good the England team is, and how bad we are. England are pretty good I think, and at the top of their form right now, but, despite recent results, not extraordinarily good. I think they're competent in all areas, and superlative in some. They're well coached and well drilled and generally well led. More than anything they have been absolutely committed to the goal of winning the Ashes. They may never play this well again.

Australia barring patches have been woeful. The Australian top order is a shambles and the bowling swings between patchy and diabolical. You might argue that we've been unfortunate in that our two best batsmen are in the worst form of their career, but maybe that's just how it is now.

I can cop not being good enough. What is hard to stomach is the general incompetence. Talent is God-given, but you don't need to be a champion to perform the basics well. We haven't controlled the controllables. Yesterday we saw the 4th run-out of the series; the English have had none. Fielding, where we once excelled, has been mediocre with missed chances being costly. And inexcusably we've taken wickets only to have the decision overturned because the bowler overstepped the mark. That's cost us hundreds of runs.

All these attest to some mental confusion I think. It's hard with the weight of the nation on your shoulders, but the team have excelled despite that for decades. It's difficult when you're under the pump, but then that's what sport is all about. The team has not been helped by confusing selection policies and the lack of any real strategy, and in the months ahead there are some who should be held to account for that. I question to the role of the Australian coach.

Tim Nielson seems a decent bloke, but he has never really inspired me with a lot of confidence. To my way of thinking it's his responsibility to get the team's head in the right place among other things. The addled actions of the Australian players suggest he has failed. Mistakes should be addressed and rectified, the players properly focussed. The repeated errors in this campaign - the run-outs, the no-balls, the lack of bowling plans, and so on, are proof that this hasn't occurred. The players minds are scrambled and the results are on the scoreboard.

This is not about Tim Nielson. There needs to be a substantial review of operations off the field as well as on. That Tim Nielson had his contract extended before the series commenced is evidence enough of the confused thinking of the Australian cricket administration.

It may hurt, but this result may be a blessing. This is not a result that can be swept under the carpet. Australian cricket needs to face up to the reality and act on it. I've already suggested what some of the changes on the field should be. Off the field Hilditch has to go and possibly other selectors reviewed. Chappell needs to become the chairman of selectors and set the agenda and strategy going forward - there must be one. Chappell is the right man for the job.

And I think Nielson should go. I would hope he resigns in light of this result, but don't expect it. With a younger team in the wings there has to be a different coach. He needs to be tougher, not a mate, a mentor, teacher and taskmaster. Defeat must hurt him as much as it does us sitting here watching from the sidelines.

The years best movies

I'm a hard marker. I don't believe in perfect scores - unlike some Olympic judges - and often find myself out of step with society when it comes to what's good and what's not. Popularity is not always a good measure of quality, besides, beauty as such is in the eye of the beholder.

That might sound a little grim, but I love books and movies and much of popular art as a whole, and am an avid consumer of it. I find something to enjoy in most of it, it's just that with my critical eye very little measures up to the very highest standards we aspire to.

With that qualification I've reviewed my favourite movies of the year. I've seen a few in the cinema, but much more on DVD. I've seen all manner of movies, from rom-coms to sci-fi, from action adventure to modest dramas. Out of all that there are only really three movies that stand out.

The first of these is Up In The Air. I love George; George loves me. We have a companionable relationship based in part on his movies and much more on his persona. Sure, he's a cool dude that everyone loves, but he's also an intelligent and discerning man who makes, by and large, interesting role choices.

Up In The Air is one of his best. He was born for the role seemingly, the genial but detached executive touring the country laying off people while polishing his motivational program and embarking on a disconnected and ill-fated romance. Ultimately it's his own demons he has to deal with, his own deeply buried issues that surface as times change abnd events overtake him.

It's the 'voice' in this which is so good, and so George. The rootless and wry observer of life and human nature while squirelling away the handy tips for the inveterate traveller. It is a warm hearted movie that engages the viewer on different levels - as compadre to Ryan Bingham (George) in his journeys, as witnesses to the grief of those laid off and the bitter world they inhabit, and as fellow travellers in the artificial environment up in the air.

It is a beautifully made, beautifully acted movie that takes you on a journey through the air and onto to the ground as Ryan negotiates through his own changing world and wrestles with his own unfamiliar hopes. It certainly worked for me.

Very different is Inception. A lot of people loved this, and a lot didn't get it at all. Some, literally, didn't get it, couldn't follow the intricately plotted winding story, and so lost it. Me, I'm always going to love a movie like this if it's done well. I love stories that make me think, love particularly these enigmatic and otherwordly tales of things that aren't, but might be. I love Borges, and Escher fascinates me, and there are elements of both in this story.

Watching it I felt caught up in the tale and racing along with it as it twisted this way and went back that. It was hugely creative and imaginative, with special effects and visuals to do it justice. It was that rare experience for me in that for a little over 2 hours I was taken out of myself and transported somewhere entirely different, a world of wondrous possibilities and fantastic mystery. What is true, and what isn't? It's a question that infuriates many; for me it is an enduring and fascinating conjecture.

The third movie is different again. A Single Man is the most gorgeous of these films, and the movie that affected me most deeply. It is Tom Ford's first crack as a director and he shows talent and flair. Based on a novel by Christopher Isherwood this is a fantastically poignant and sensitive story of a man dealing with the enduring grief over the death of his lover. That they are gay is almost irrelevant.

It's set in the course of a single day in the life of the grieving protagonist. At the beginning of the day he has resolved to do himself in. He has tried and failed to overcome the emptiness in his life after the death of his lover, and suicide seems the only reasonable solution. He prepares in his meticulous way and then through the day has a variety of encounters that illuminate different aspects of himself and his life. All this is beautifully presented, the lighting distinct, the scenes like artworks brought to life. At the centre of them is George, so beautifully played by Colin Firth (who has become one of my favourite actors).

The movie flashes backwards and forwards as he ties up the loose ends of his life, the idyllic past, the pragmatic present. It is the delicate study of grief and enduring love. I know it's not a movie for everyone, yet I defy anyone to be unmoved by it. This is the real deal. This is just about the closest approximation of love in it's infinite detail I've yet seen on screen, the longing, the tenderness, the gentle and easy affection. In a way it's refreshing: this is what we aspire to after all, that depth of feeling that becomes new day after day. It exists after all, it can be.

The movie ends on an ironically sad note, though there is also hope: love can come again. The journey through the last day of his life has taken him from grim acceptance to modest anticipation. It is about re-birth in a way, and infused me with a mix of emotions for hours later. I felt enriched by the viewing experience. In a way it validated my own reason for being: the object of life is to live deeply and true.

They're the stand-outs. I saw other reasonable movies too, though none as good as these. The Hurt Locker, which won all the awards, I found to be good, but unremarkable. Perhaps I just wasn't in the right place for it.

Winning the Ashes next time

Much breast beating and hair tearing over the state of the Australian cricket team. Fair enough, we expect a lot, but it's been clear to everyone bar the selectors that the team has been in decline for some time.

While Australia can potentially level the series in Sydney, the Ashes are gone. This should be seen as an opportunity to build towards the next Ashes series, as should have been done 12 months ago. No use worrying about what's happened, have to push forward towards the next iteration of the Australian team.

To that degree Beer and Khawaja have finally gotten a go. Clarke might have made way too had it not been for the injury to Ponting. When the dust settles the ACB have to settle on a re-building stage, much as what happened in the doldrums of the mid-eighties. There are greats in this team, but they're aging and have to move on sooner or later and let the next generation take their chance.

To that extent I believe Katich has played his last test match for Australia. At 35 it's time for someone younger to take his place, whether it be Hughes or someone else. Khawaja should be retained at three and given an extended run. He's got the goods, just needs time in the middle and the faith of the selectors.

Assuming Ponting remains in the team - and I think he should for now - that means he drops down the order. I reckon bat at 5, and though it'll hurt should move on from the captaincy. That leaves Clarke as the captain despite dodgy form and a dubious reputation.

The poor form of our two best batsmen - Ponting and Clarke - just about guaranteed a series win was beyond us, but you have to back them in. Clarke will recover his form, and I think is an astute tactician if not the leader that inspires the nation. There is no-one else.

Hussey had had a great series, but like Ponting I think must be gone by the next Ashes series. I'd like to see Watson bat down the order despite his relative success as an opener. He's a genuine all-rounder, but we lose some of that with him opening, and he can be valuable option batting in the middle-order.

That means a new opening combo, Hughes possibly, maybe with Marsh. The retirements of Ponting and Hussey will open up spots  for the likes of White and Ferguson and maybe Mitch Marsh, with White targeted as the next Australian captain after Clark.

Haddin is good for a while, but has a great replacement in the wings in Tim Paine. If Steve Smith is to play - and I think he has great talent - then it must be as a bowling all-rounder. To that extent he needs to go off and develop that further. The other option is O'Keefe.

The bowlers? Well for all his erratic form Johnson will stay. On his day he is a prodigy. I like Hilfenhaus, but though he's a good partnership bowler he doesn't take enough wickets. I like the Rhino too, he's a whole-hearted performer who bowls a heavy ball. Siddle is willing, but lacks class. They have their qualities, but they're a notch or two beneath what we have been accustomed to. Bollinger I don't rate against good opposition.

All this means that we need to begin transitioning the next generation of Australian bowlers into the team. I'm not convinced by the batting, but I think our bowlers over the next 10 years should be pretty good.

They're raw still, but one or both of Pattinson and Hazlewood should be playing for the Australian test team within 12 months. Then there's Starc, Faulkner (who is developing into a potent all-rounder very quickly), Cameron who will be coming through. Fast bowling looks good, spin bowling not so flash.

Let's see how Beer goes this match. Steve Smith needs to improve, then there's O'Keefe as we've mentioned. Krezja might be worth another look as he is what we need in so many ways. He's a wicket taking spinner, and there's no point having any other sort in the team.

That's my 2c worth, and my gaze into the crystal ball. No-one can ever second guess the selectors, though I'm glad they now have a hard-nosed pragmatist like Greg Chappell guiding them. And there are bound to be players unmentioned who will surprise and press for selection, and others slip away. That's the nature of the game.

The team in 3 years might look something like this:

Marsh

Hughes/Maddinson

Khawaja

Ferguson/Marsh

Clark/White (c)

Watson/Faulkner/Keath

Paine

O'Keefe/Smith

Johnson

Pattinson

Hazlewood

Bottom line we need to build the next great Australian team, the team that will win back the Ashes. Kudos to the England team and organisation, they deserve this success. They've fought hard, are led well, and exhibited the resilience I doubted them for so long. We'll be coming back though.

Version 2.0

Well, that's that. My little end of year break is over. This morning I suited up after groaning my way out of bed at an unfamiliar hour, and then joined my fellow wage slaves on the train to work. It's still pretty mellow, but come this time next week the train will be chockas again and I'll be squeezed out at Flinders Street just another journeyman.

It was a very pleasant break. I read about 1200 pages over the 10 days, knocked off two books and halfway through the others. I attended to my scheduled tasks, and had some fun along the way. It was a necessary for me to refresh myself, though I fear that somewhere along the way I wiped some of the knowledge studiously acquired over the last few months. It's still there I'm sure, I just have to find it.

I didn't come up with any resolutions this year, but have found in counselling others, and in a variety of random conversations that some feelings crystallised into things to look at.

I had a girl yesterday describe me as kind and gentle. I liked it. By and large I think it's true, though it's not as simple as that. I thing some of those aspects may be recognised by people close to me and my colleagues, but mixed up with a lot of other, occasionally contradictory, attributes.

This girl also said she thought I was the independent type inclined to go my own way. For a random encounter she was very perceptive (she claimed that 'books and travel' were my things too - correctly). I agreed with her, but after she left and in light of all the encouragement I've been giving my friends I reflected on what I need do.

My first thoughts were to renovate my persona. I have this soft side and I have a hard side, and I thought why not show the world more of that soft side? Is there anything wrong in people believing that I am kind and gentle rather than ambitious and intelligent?

It's been on my mind for some time to own up to my vulnerabilities. Many people are deceived into thinking I'm invulnerable, but that's not true - as anyone reading these pages will know. Everyone has vulnerabilities, and while mine may be in fewer areas than most they are keenly felt.

This was brought home to me hard when mum was diagnosed as terminal. For a few days I floundered with all sorts of thoughts and feelings. I was jammed tight with them, but had no outlet. I remember one night speaking about it with Donna and she told me that it's alright to be sad, it's normal to show your feelings, and that no-one would think the less of me for that. She was right I knew, yet knowing it and being it are two different things. For whatever reason - well, I know why - I have a fear of being 'weak'. Ironically it's also what I crave most - someone I can be weak with, someone with whom I can be myself without shame or second thought.

Amy used to call me the Fonz. I was too cool for school. I heard what she said, but did nothing then or since, much as I should have. Being cool is my defence. Being glib deflects attention, so I'm always ready with a wisecrack or a smart-arse comment. It cost me a friendship then and keeps others on the outer now.

Look at me in the office. Putting aside the professional side of my job, how would most people perceive me? Well I think I'm seen as interesting and smart. They see the maverick in me and sense the social, fun aspects of my personality. I'm easy to talk to and ready to share a laugh, and there are plenty happy to share a beer with me. All of that's good, but there's more to it than that. These things are externals, outside of me. I manage these relationships at arms length from what is inside me, on my terms.

And so I am also perceived as independent, good in a team but a lone wolf by instinct. I speak my mind as if I don't care what other people think, and beat my own path thinking it the only way to go. I'm hard to manage and hard to know, and for all my social graces and occasional charm perhaps difficult to understand. I guess that's the way I've liked it, but the problem is that in erecting that barrier I've kept anyone from getting in. I might get admired, people may like me, but I'm a seamless enigma that no-one really knows. I'm affably aloof.

There was the opportunity to break down some of those barriers when the bad news with mum became known. That didn't happen. The reason it didn't is instructive. The biggest reason is that I'm a private man who doesn't believe in imposing my issues on other people. It is something for me to deal with, not something to burden others with. Much of that is respect for other people, but a lot of it also is not wanting to need anyone (even though I might). Ironically most people are sympathetic and often looking to be imposed upon - particularly those close.

The other reason is bloody-mindedness. When the news broke of mums illness I was taken aside and told take whatever time you need, we know it's tough and we'll cover for you if you want. That was nice I guess, but it got my back up. I was protective of my work and reluctant to make way for anyone else. And my competitive spirit leapt into the fray, fuck that Joe, I'll do it and I'll do it well.

I know enough now to realise that has to change. I'm not about to become less competitive, I may not adopt that kind and gentle persona, not completely, but I have to work towards becoming more open . I'm not a lesser man for owning up to my frailties. As Donna said, as Amy likely meant, I don't have to be that tough guy, or that cool dude, no-one is going to think I'm a lesser man for being human.

I regret now what this has cost me, but I can't go back. Somehow I have to strip off those glib personas. They have become me in some ways, habits I don't know how to break. That random girl saw the two sides of me, but for all my love of independence the man I need to become must be more user friendly. Me, version 2.0.

 

 

Ergo

I'm in bed writing this. I lay here and finished a book about 10 minutes ago. Normally I would have snapped off the light and gone to sleep without another thought. Tonight I couldn't. I felt unsettled, restless. At times like these my mind turns in upon itself. To write is natural in the absence of actually doing anything. This blog becomes an instrument of my edification.

Why am I restless? Something in the book resonated with me, but there is much at the moment to resonate with. It is too difficult to untangle the complex web of feelings and thoughts that lead me here. I am not in a bad way, I am quite composed. I feel focussed and strong. My sense of self is strongly intact. What bemuses - and occasionally confuses - are the myriad disparate strands of thought, sensation and feeling being plucked at. I can't explain, but I can list.

So, some of the things:

• My mum's cancer, and her call a couple of nights ago from Honolulu explaining how she is struggling.
• Memories of my mother when she was the age I am now, attractive and vibrant, her hair permed and living a vital existence.
• A nuisance friend of hers chasing me up tonight for news and then a phone number for her abroad.
• A friend - 2 in fact - sharing that they felt lost and questioning with the new year.
• Wondering why for all my complexity I am so resilient - why am I the strong one?
• Have I become too self-sufficient?
• Thinking I should be more open, less afraid of expressing my feelings to the world.
• Wishing there was someone with whom I could share the the small but important bits and pieces I become passionate about. None of my friends share that passion.
• Anger at my sister for leaving me a dog rife with fleas.
• Disappointment at another friend for not being there.
• Wondering at all the sex I have been having lately, is it wrong? Why can't I resist? Should I resist? Do I have it in me to resist?
• Remembering women past as the planets align and people ask innopportune questions to remind me.
• Wishing I could write better.

I've probably left things out there, but it gives the idea. These are ever-present, over-lapping and intersecting in my mind. I don't have the answers, my brain heats up, I become restless.

Striding into 2011

So it's 2011. For the last week since Christmas I've been living a very easy life, but that's about to change. On Christmas Eve my strategy recommendations for the new intranet were formally accepted. That means come Tuesday I'll be right back into it working with the PM to put together the project plan, look at resourcing, dependencies, and of course a lot lot of analysis towards the to-be. I need to get my work head back on quick smart.

2011 should be a big year for me on the professional front at least. I'm about to sign a contract for the next 12 months which is very lucrative. While that's nice I aspire to more than that. The financial rewards are very welcome - even necessary - but what really drives me on now is seeing how far I can go, how much I can build, testing the limits of my capabilities. I'm ambitious and committed to finding out.

That means it's not enough for me to sit at the same desk and work towards the singlegoal, substantial though it is. It's my intention this year to take on a partner, and quite likely engage some employees to manage the projects I hope to bring on board.

The partner is important to bring different skills to the table, and to give me a cut-out in being the face of the company. I want the load to be spread. I'm also hopeful that whoever this person may be that he brings a network, if not actual jobs, to the table. As it stands there are a couple of contenders for the position, one I know personally, the other recommended to me. I won't be rushing this - have to get it right, have to structure it right - but it is adefinite goal.

As part of that I recognise my skills are in other areas. I'm moving into uncharted waters, and while that's a familiar journey for me this time I want to make sure of it. I'm looking for a mentor. It'll be hard to find the right person. I need someone with the relevant experience - basically getting a start-up off and running (preferably in the management/IT consulting sector) - and someone who I  trust and connect with. There needs to be some personality there. I'll be looking for this person come Tuesday.

I hope in a years time to look back upon all of this successfully accomplished. I don't expect it - it's a tall order - but I'll be content if we've made strides towards doing so.

This is not all of life, but it's an important part of it. I'll be looking to improve all aspects of my life, and have definite ideas that I may or may not commit to screen. In this part if I get it right then I'll be a lot closer to the independence I crave and the freedom I desire; and, importantly for a man like me, will feel in some way fulfilled. We need to do things or make them, need to feel we are being all that we can be and making a difference. It's what makes us tick.