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Public Transport


Monday, November 7th, 2005

PT seems to have become an issue in the papers again recently, with reports coming out that Melbourne’s PT system isn’t working. (Gee, who’da thunk it…)

I’m not an expert on these things, but having visited a few cities with what I would consider working public transport systems, I have to say there’s a bit of a gaping hole in Melbourne’s train network… let’s take a couple of examples:

Berlin:

London:

Melbourne:

What’s the difference? London and Berlin both have LOOPS. That’s right, the working train networks aren’t just a star, in fact the different lines cross each other all over the place. (gad, even Sydney has that!) Whereas in Melbourne, let’s say you wanted to get from Camberwell to Brighton Beach… let’s say we’ll rule out throwing yourself on the mercy of the disaster that is Melbourne buses, then you have to go ALL THE WAY into Richmond station and then out again. A trip that should be 10 minutes or so in a car probably gets to about 45 minutes or more on trains. Or what about getting from the airport to Glen Iris? Forget it.

So, just because I should be studying and procrastination is FUN!, let’s add a couple of meaningful loops to Melbourne’s train network: one where there used to be one years and years ago, (the “inner loop”), and one roughly where zone 1 becomes zone 2. For fun, why not throw in a rail line to the airport, because that’s overdue if anything ever is. Oh, and let’s electrify the track to Geelong, because damn, why not. So what do we get?


(red lines represent existing rail lines, green represent the ones I would build.)

Amount of common sense used: no more than most people should be equipped with; Likelihood of something like this actually happening: erm, maybe once Dubya gets his degree in rocket science from Cambridge… Isn’t this fun!

(In fact, there was talk of a train tunnel connecting Melbourne Uni to Southbank… how this benefits anyone other than Melbourne Uni students who want to go to Southbank beats me…)

Why oh why did I drink Smoko Goon?


Saturday, October 15th, 2005

The little men pounding on the inside of my head this morning are making their objections heard very loudly. But it was Valedictory Dinner and my last (ever!) Ormond smoko! What else could I do? The pain will pass, but the memory of the fun will remain. (yes, I have memories, how much did you think I drank? :-P )

Some people have asked me for a copy of my valedictory speech. To save lots of tedious emailing and printing and etc, here it is:

Last November, for the first time in three years, I packed all my stuff at Ormond into boxes and prepared to leave this College over the holidays. Apart from a brief period in the summer of 2001/02 and a few Choir tours, I had lived at Ormond continuously for four years; and to be perfectly honest, it was time for a change. I had been offered a scholarship to spend the summer working at the University of New South Wales on a research project, and I thought it would do me good to get out of Melbourne, and Ormond, at least for those ten weeks.

Now, those of you who know me well will know that I don’t like being woken by a beeping alarm; my alarm wakes me gently by turning on the radio. Those of you who know me very well know that the radio is invariably tuned to ABC Classic FM. One morning in January, on the dot of 7:30am the radio clicked on, and what else should drift into my sleep but the opening phrase of Elgar’s Pomp and Circumstance March number 1. I’ve never been as aware of how much I love and will miss Ormond as I was at that moment.

I’ve spent five years at this college – that’s my entire undergraduate degree. I’ve been involved with a number of Ormond plays; I’ve sung in the choir and toured Europe three times; I’ve been the head of a subcommittee; I’ve been a member of the MCR; I’ve helped at and been to many smokos; and I’ve only ever missed one formal dinner. However, the list of things I haven’t done is equally impressive. I’ve never been on a sporting team; I haven’t been on the O-week subcommittee, or to ski week. I’ve never even been to the pub on Monday nights.

And this is the essence of what makes College life wonderful. There are so many opportunities to try something new; and there are so many amazing people who provide your closest friends.

But while I was in Sydney, I was also staying in a university college. These things are as true about Warrane College as they are about Ormond. Why then should I miss Ormond?

For me, what makes Ormond more special than any other college is the diversity we have here. We have so many events, activities, and subcommittees on offer that you can’t possibly do everything; and that’s as it should be. I would much rather have the choice of events at the cost of missing out on something, than have no choice at all, just so that I could participate in everything on offer.

Just as important is the diversity of Ormond residents. There are people in hall today of all ages, academic disciplines, backgrounds, and tastes. At Ormond we learn to live together in our diverse community; and to hold PSEs alongside smokos, music soirees alongside the sporting championships, and the play alongside the ball.

But let’s not forget that even Ormond can learn from other colleges. While I was in Sydney, I admired the way Warrane was very clear about its role as an academic community. Warrane held one evening lecture or seminar each week – even over the summer holidays! – and a group of senior students was organising an annual conference – in 2005 it was to be on Australian music, and they invited prominent Australian composers, performers and musicologists to lecture and conduct seminars with the residents, and with other members of the community.

Ormond is three times as large as Warrane College and we have vastly more diversity. One of the most wonderful things about Ormond is being able to live with people doing such a diversity of academic work: being able to talk to Rob Richardson about dissecting rats over lunch, and Richard Jackson about Proust and Rachmaninov over dinner, and Richard Lee about the GST at supper. We should remember that our studies and learning aren’t confined to our classes and tutes; because after all, we can get the “learning” kind of academia at uni; what we can get nowhere but Ormond is the “social” kind of academia.

One thing that I’ve come to realise in my time at Ormond is that all these things we enjoy aren’t natural; this state of affairs isn’t the normal way for things to be. Left to itself, a college won’t turn into Ormond; in fact it will become the opposite: a homogeneous society with only one kind of social activity and one small set of talents. We need to realise that Ormond is the way I have described it because many people, ourselves included, work hard to keep it that way.

I would like to use this opportunity, as so many before me have done, to throw down a challenge to the Ormond community. I would like to see all of Ormond – from the Master right down to the shyest fresher – discussing their visions, dreams, or ideas of what Ormond should be. And I don’t mean wishy-washy, vague values such as “community”; I mean concrete questions that people can act on, such as “how can the MCR make returning to college attractive for senior students?” or “how can we re-organise the calendar so it’s easy to find a good date for a PSE or the Bursary booze cruise or Car Rally?”

I’ve been given the opportunity to speak tonight, and I’ve told you part of what I enjoy at Ormond, and what I would like to see at Ormond, but that’s just one person’s opinion – if we want to keep Ormond as diverse as it has been in my time here, we all need to talk about our ideas of what Ormond should be. But also, we need to value each other’s opinions; and significantly, we need to value parts of Ormond that, like Monday night Naughton’s for me, we haven’t experienced – not just because one day we might, but because everybody else here has equally as much right to make Ormond theirs as I do.

And most of all, we should take the time to appreciate all those people at Ormond who have improved the lives of those around them, not through anything they have done or achieved, but simply through the conversations they have had at lunch, or the seminar they gave that was irrelevant for your course but nevertheless interesting, or the chocolates they bought you during SWOT vac. Because at the end of the day, it’s not the trophies we’ve won or the money we’ve raised for charity that makes this a great community. Of all the opportunities that Ormond offers us, the greatest one is the opportunity to meet other Ormondians. And this is what I will take away from Ormond, and treasure for the rest of my life, above smokos, balls, PSEs, choir rehearsals, tutes, AGMs, and student service: I have been privileged to call all of you friends.

To balance some gender-inequality


Tuesday, May 10th, 2005

It irks me that I have left some gender-inequality lying around this blog. So let’s take my ANZAC day post and flip genders – as an experiment. I want to see if it still works – not as “what I as a guy expect as a girl” but as “what i as a guy imagine i would want if i were a girl”. Sounds fun? Let’s go.

Being a 19th century gentlewoman(*) in 21st century Australia is not about Class. Upper Class is about being born into privilege, inheriting money, connections, perhaps a job from parents rather than earning it themselves. Ich. Martin has not much respect for this kind of “success”. Lower Class is about whingeing about the Upper Class (that is, people who have X but don’t deserve X or haven’t earnt X), without doing anything about it yourself. Martin has not much respect for this kind of “misfortune”.

(*) probably a better term than “lady”.

[so far, so good.]

Being a “gentlemwoan” is about style. It’s about dressing up to go to the theatre. It’s about standing up and offering an elderly passenger your seat on the tram. It’s about holding the door for the person behind you.

[too easy!]

It’s about looking into someone’s eyes and smiling when you shake their hand, and saying “pleased to meet you”. It’s about being genuine and honest when talking to people, and not just following the Toorak Socialite pattern of conversation: “Well, I haven’t seen you since we were at Timbertop together. How are you doing with yourself? That’s wonderful! Well, I have to run back to Trinity to organise the ball. We must meet again!”. (yeah, right.)

It’s about respect for yourself; respect for others; respect for traditions (even when you’re trashing them). It’s about dressing up by wearing a top hat or furs, not by flashing a boob on national television. It’s about splurging occasionally on a designer skirt or shoes. It’s about looking good not out of vanity, but out of respect for yourself. It’s about caring for yourself with good food and exercise, not with a fashionable gym membership, a tanning salong and a Brazilian wax. (ouch.)

It’s about going to an expensive restaurant every so often. It’s about drinking expensive drinks in moderation, rather than the cheapest beer they’ve got, by the keg. (Although a $350 drink with gold leaf garnish is pushing even my budget.)

It’s about knowing what’s proper. It’s about wearing a hat and gloves when you go out sometimes. It’s about having a sense of humour; and being able to laugh at yourself. It’s about being generous; realising that building an enormous Victorian mansion with a ballroom effectively obliges you to host balls.

It’s about realising that a “ball” is not a university event at a nightclub with free Kahlua, but an occasion to dress up, meet people, hold conversations, and dance. That means there needs to be enough quiet and not-too-dark space to actually hold conversations. There needs to be enough light to admire what people are wearing.

It’s about taking compliments humbly, but not self-deprecatingly. It’s about giving more compliments than you receive, and giving them honestly. It’s about noticing a gentleman’s new hair, tie, or shoes, and commenting on it. (Everybody loves being complimented on their appearance. Even if they say they don’t.)

It’s about the combination of style and substance. All style and no substance makes Frank Abnagale Jr – any bank in the country will cash a piece of paper you’ve embossed with the words “this is a cheque… no really!”, but you’ll still feel unsatisfied. All substance and no style and you might as well blend in with the rest of the homogeneous crowds in Melbourne – walk around for a day in spray-on hipster jeans, rubber thongs and fake blonde hair to see what i mean. But the combination of both is what makes a 21st century gentlewoman. It’s what we mean by “gallantry”; “chivalry”; “gentlemanly conduct”. That’s what I’m talking about.

[see? that wasn't too painful now, was it?]

well, gee, would you look at the date…


Monday, April 25th, 2005

it must be time for me to post again.

Went to Hamilton with the choir. Came back again. Exhausted. Nothing to see here, move along.

I’m so over ANZAC day. Have been ever since school. No disrespect to anyone who actually fought in the wars we’re celebrating (are any of them still alive?) but can somebody explain to me why we’re celebrating war at all?

I’ve got a midsemester test tomorrow. I should be studying. Instead, I’m blogging. Woohoo.

(This post is a bit incoherent and random, isn’t it? I’ll try to get better as I go along.)

I was asked something recently that got me thinking. What is it that I admire so about the 19th century European gentlemen you read about in Sherlock Holmes or Jules Verne? Let’s see…

Being a 19th century gentleman(*) in 21st century Australia is not about Class. Upper Class is about being born into privilege, inheriting money, connections, perhaps a job from parents rather than earning it themselves. Ich. Martin has not much respect for this kind of “success”. Lower Class is about whingeing about the Upper Class (that is, people who have X but don’t deserve X or haven’t earnt X), without doing anything about it yourself. Martin has not much respect for this kind of “misfortune”.

(*) or lady. Gender is irrelevant. But since I’m thinking mainly about myself, and since I’m male, we’ll talk about gentlemen.

Being a “gentleman” is about style. It’s about dressing up to go to the theatre. It’s about standing up and offering an elderly passenger your seat on the tram. It’s about holding the door for the person behind you.

It’s about looking into someone’s eyes and smiling when you shake their hand, and saying “pleased to meet you”. It’s about being genuine and honest when talking to people, and not just following the Toorak Socialite pattern of conversation: “Well, I haven’t seen you since we were at Timbertop together. How are you doing with yourself? That’s wonderful! Well, I have to run back to Trinity to organise the ball. We must meet again!”. (yeah, right.)

It’s about respect for yourself; respect for others; respect for traditions (even when you’re trashing them). It’s about dressing up by wearing a top hat or furs, not by flashing a boob on national television. It’s about splurging occasionally on an Italian silk shirt. It’s about looking good not out of vanity, but out of respect for yourself. It’s about caring for yourself with good food and exercise, not with a fashionable gym membership, a tanning salong and a Brazilian wax. (ouch.)

It’s about going to an expensive restaurant every so often. It’s about drinking expensive drinks in moderation, rather than the cheapest beer they’ve got, by the keg. (Although a $350 drink with gold leaf garnish is pushing even my budget.)

It’s about knowing what’s proper. It’s about wearing a hat and gloves when you go out sometimes. It’s about having a sense of humour; and being able to laugh at yourself. It’s about being generous; realising that building an enormous Victorian mansion with a ballroom effectively obliges you to host balls.

It’s about realising that a “ball” is not a university event at a nightclub with free Kahlua, but an occasion to dress up, meet people, hold conversations, and dance. That means there needs to be enough quiet and not-too-dark space to actually hold conversations. There needs to be enough light to admire what people are wearing.

It’s about taking compliments humbly, but not self-deprecatingly. It’s about giving more compliments than you receive, and giving them honestly. It’s about noticing a lady’s new hair, top, or shoes, and commenting on it. (Everybody loves being complimented on their appearance. Even if they say they don’t.)

It’s about the combination of style and substance. All style and no substance makes Frank Abnagale Jr – any bank in the country will cash a piece of paper you’ve embossed with the words “this is a cheque… no really!”, but you’ll still feel unsatisfied. All substance and no style and you might as well blend in with the rest of the homogeneous crowds in Melbourne – walk around for a day in torn jeans, rubber thongs and a rugby jumper with the collar turned up to see what i mean. But the combination of both is what makes a 21st century gentleman. It’s what we mean by “gallantry”; “chivalry”; “gentlemanly conduct”. That’s what I’m talking about.

Nicht Rauchen!


Tuesday, March 15th, 2005

The shortest path between 29 Morrah St and the ICT building takes me past the Royal Melbourne Hospital – in particular the building housing the cancer research institute, and the respiratory diseases institute. There are always 4 or 5 people standing outside this door smoking. Some sense of irony deep inside me is tickled by this.

In other news, here is why I love my 12″ powerbook…

powerbook

Internet Quota (and some patriotism)


Friday, January 28th, 2005

I have come to the conclusion that Internet quota is wrong. Unfair, awful, evil, wrong. I’ve been over quota at Warrane for quite a while, although I manage due to some convenient loopholes involving a Socks proxy and SSH port forwarding. Ahem. But now I’m over quota at CSE (again! although this time I used up what I was entitled to, rather than what they grudgingly gave me…). Kind of makes it pointless to be at work. (I’m at Warrane right now on my lunchbreak.)

In better news, Australia Day was fun. Went into the city with the other summer research student in my group, and we saw the ferry race, the tall ships race, the Roulettes flyover (well, four of them at least… whoops), etc. Then we went to Hyde Park for the food and wine show, and discovered the NRMA vintage car show on the way. And the NRMA Stage where they were playing jazz all day. Later on the harbour the Army parachuters showed off with some flares and flags and stuff, landing in Sydney Cove. The Navy dropped a guy into the water from a helicopter and then winched him to safety. Four times. (Gotta make sure everybody gets a good view :D )

In the evening, we went to Darling Harbour for the show. They paraded the day’s Best Dressed Vessels (although we missed that, cos we were eating dinner), the Working Boats of Sydney Harbour (not in a Working Girls sense, but in a ferries, firemen, police, coastguard, etc sense), and the tall ships. Then they droned at us for a while about the inspiring new Young Australian of the Year for NSW (might have been interesting in a different setting), then the Governor of New South Wales tried to get our interests up, but the crowd was only there for one thing. Fireworks. A solid 45 minutes of fireworks. Wow.

In other other news, I’ve just booked my flight home. Woohoo!

Blogger, UNSW, NICTA, USA Election


Wednesday, November 3rd, 2004

Hmm, I guess if blogger.com forgets my login between blog posts, despite the fact that I click “remember me” when I log in, then I’m not posting often enough. Tee hee. Oh well. :-P

I think I may be going to Sydney over summer… at least, that’s how I read this email. It’s a bit vague:

Hi Martin

We are currently in the process of finalising offers for the Taste of Research Summer Scholarship program.

In your application you selected KRR-9 as a preference which will be supervised by Maurice Pagnucco.

If offered a summer scholarship, could you please confirm your full time availability over the ten week period, and continued interest in this topic?

Subject to your confirmation and Faculty approval, the School would recommend that you receive the award.

There is some urgency, so your immediate response will be appreciated.

Skye

If it comes through, it will be lots and lots of fun… KRR-9 is this:

As computing devices become more common, affordable and miniaturised, one can imagine a future in which such devices are capable of adapting and responding to user needs by being aware of the user’s mental and emotional state. For example, if the computing device determines that the user is stressed, it adapts its behaviour to present information in a more terse manner whereas if it senses that the user is relaxed, the information can be presented in a more verbose way. These notions have led to the idea of empathic computing and affective computing.

This project aims to investigate the types of concepts that need to be represented in order to model users’ mental and emotional states. In particular, to consider what sorts of information can be gathered about the user (e.g., biofeedback monitoring, gesture recognition, facial recognition, etc.), how this can be represented, and how such representation might be used for the purpose of reasoning to infer information about the users’ mental and emotional state. The objectives of this project are to:

  • Develop an empathic ontology (catalogue of concepts) using the web ontology language (www.w3.org/TR/owl-features/) OWL
  • Determine how information represented using this ontology can be used to make inferences about the user’s state

ooh aah.

In other news, today (well, today in the US of A, yesterday in Australia or something) is election day. A plea to my American friends… please please please with a cherry on top don’t give us Bush for another four years!!

Conservative Liberals!? what a joke Save Template Changes.


Wednesday, October 13th, 2004

Martin got lazy. This always happens. Well, Martin got busy and other things took over time, but I guess there’s always a point in the evening where I can’t be bothered doing any more work, and I could have written something in that time. But I didn’t.

What I did do is vote below the line in the senate. Of 65 candidates, Family First got votes number 62 and 63 (64 and 65 were reserved for One Nation). Didn’t stop a Victorian FF senator getting the balance of power… what with 38 of the 76 Senate seats in Liberal hands, I guess Labour won’t bother trying to pass any legislation in the next 3 years; and any Coalition legislation that comes with a “Family Impact Statement” will pass. Woohoo. Welcome to no-gay-rights, no-industrial-relations, xenophobic, censored, Australia.

It seems a bit odd that a party called “Family First” advocates taking many of the key attributes of what they themselves see as the prime function of a family, vis bringing up kids, away from parents and into central govt control. For example, the whole ISP-level Internet censorship bullshit. I find it difficult at the best of times to swallow the “We don’t trust families to do what’s right by their kids, so Government needs to step in and censor TV/Radio/Newspapers/Books/Internet/etc”. It’s worse when it’s coming from a so-called pro-”family values” party (that goes for you too, Johnny). If you’re really pro-”family values”, let’s see more freedom for families to exercise their values and less regulation of what a family is and what it is allowed to do…

A truly pro-”family values” stance would be to widen the range of options available to families. Allow gay marriage. Allow gay adoption, and access to IVF for same-sex couples. Grant same-sex-couple families the same rights as “traditional” (yuck) families. Encourage Australian-made children’s TV, children’s movies, children’s books. Values can’t be enforced, they have to be taught by example… and if we prevent children from ever making their own value judgements by always legislating to keep contentious issues out of the control of families, they’ll grow up to be value-less people who need new-age “christians” to tell them what is right and wrong.

I lament the impending death of morality discussions around the family dinner table. I lament the impending death of choice. I lament the fact that we are determined to produce a generation of uneducated (don’t get me started on Nelson reforms), valueless xenophobes who need a good traditional conservative cricket-loving government like John Howard’s to tell them what to do.

Bah.

hot or not


Sunday, August 22nd, 2004

hot:

iTunes
vmware on a machine with 1Gb of RAM
gdesklets
Hayao Miyazaki
Sydney weather

not:

thunderstorms that reboot computers and hang Ethernet switches
printers
dumb text-mode web browsers
conflicting apt dependencies
Sydney weather
Airport security

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