Mining and Morality

The mining industry has been a significant part of the Australian economy since soon after white settlement. From the early gold rushes to today's multifaceted operations, people have profited from the valuable materials which lie beneath our nation's soil.

In recent years, the mining industry has occupied an increasing amount of the media's attention, as we learn more about the people who own the huge mining companies, consider the industrial relations issues surrounding the safety, supply and demand of the workforce, and worry about the impact mining has on our fragile ecosystems. (For more information, see Get Up's recent video on mining in and around the Great Barrier Reef.)

I believe the mining industry carries a higher moral culpability than other industries. Of course, all industries, from manufacturing to health care, have ethical responsibilities; none are exempt. However, the mining industry takes resources from the very so-called "golden soil" that is Australia and profits from their sale. Unlike crops, minerals and ores cannot be regrown: once sold, they are lost to the rest of Australians forever (unless it is sold within Australia, though it is my understanding that the majority of mined resources end up overseas).

The fact that the mining industry profits from selling something which rightfully belongs to all Australians places a higher moral burden on those companies. As I type this, I guess I realise that when it comes to mining, I am something of a socialist: I would prefer that mines are owned and operated by the government, with profits directly benefiting all Australians ... hmm, there's an interesting thought!

Idealism aside, the mining giants are becoming fat off a resource which is non-renewable and, uniquely, belongs to all Australians. The should therefore be held very accountable for their impact on the environment, their industrial relations policies, and their financial responsibilities to the other citizens of Australia.

Stationery, and the meaning of life

In the ebb and flow of stationery which punctuates my life, today I have an excess of blue pens but no pencils.

Which is a shame, because I need to write some appointments in my diary, and I always use pencil in my diary.

Isn't our existence gloriously ephemeral? The objects which surround me come and go; the people I plan to meet, the things I plan to do, are subject to change.

There was a time, during my teenage years and early twenties, when I think this frightened me. If life couldn't be pinned down and made concrete, if we can't write our future in ink, then what do we have to cling to? As humans, we need some sort of certainty, some answer to the problem of "what's it all about?" The solutions I used earlier in my life are different to the ones find now. I guess I'd describe myself as an existentialist, interested and even grounded in the very nature of what it is to be human, finding meaning in the uniqueness of the human condition and my own experience.

But that doesn't help me pencil in my appointments ...

A Summer Morning's Run

What could be more pleasant, more gratifying than to be mindful in one's body while out running early on a summer's day?

Feeling the cool air, pleasant despite the promise of heat to come, moving across your skin ...

Sensing the breeze lifting the tiny hairs on your forearms ...

Pulsing in time to the running-rhythms of foot to pavement, breath in/breath out, heartbeats ...

Inhaling the fresh scent of grass, and earth, and blossoms ...

... and anticipating a day of test cricket and sewing.

This is all good.

Summer Joys

These are the things I'm enjoying this summer:

1. Test Cricket! And not just our trip to the MCG on Boxing Day:



but also the drama of the Sydney Test, enjoyed via radio and TV, and enhanced through interactions with friends near and far on facebook

2. Finally getting around to re-upholstering our diningroom chairs. This is indicative of how they looked this time last week:

Part-way through the process, the original ugly 1970s brown fabric can be seen:

The contrast between old and new is marked:





and I'm very happy with the final result:

3. Reading! I'm so excited that Dead Men's Boots was returned to my local library today, so I can pounce on it - I'm looking forward to seeing what Felix Castor gets up to next. I've also enjoyed re-reading the Narnia books and browsing through some positive psychology stuff, as well as catching up on issues of New Scientist I didn't get through last year.

4. Eating - summer specials like bananas microwaved until they begin to caramelize, then mixing in low fat Greek yoghurt for a sweetly tart treat; melon for breakfast, and a perennial favourite - stir-fried wombok - for tea

5. Watching TV - as the cricket allows! Catching up on the third series of Breaking Bad on DVD, and taping the re-runs of Doctor Who to savour again.

Work will pick up again next week, but this week is still summertime. Joy!

C. S. Lewis: meaningful, subversive children's fiction

The Narnia books have been part of my life since early childhood, when I heard them at my father's knee - and then, again, when he re-read them for my first sister's benefit; and yet again for the second sister; though by the time my baby brother came along, I think I considered myself too old for listening to stories read aloud.

I'm re-reading the books this week, for the first time in many years. It's such fun to revisit these childhood favourites!

It's so long since I read them that I bring fresh eyes to the reading. I am charmed by ownership inversion inherent the subversive title The Horse and His Boy, and ponder again our notions of ownership, and in what other ways we are possessed by things we consider we own. I wince at the gender-gestalt of the books, in which boys and men and young girls are capable of nobility and high acts, while older girls - presumably approaching menarche - are prone to hysterics and foolishness. I can read the closing chapters of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader without crying (it took me some years, as a child, to realize it made me tearful because it allegorized death - C. S. Lewis speaks to our hearts) and also explore the richness of the book's other symbolism about the trials a person may face during life's course. I note how many fantasy prototypes have their roots in Lewis' tales, and my hypothesis that the special effects capacity of the film industry influences the imagery used in speculative fiction is debunked by his witches morphing into serpents, trees taking their human-like forms, and so forth.

Lewis' writing is so vivid and deep it warrants re-reading - even these, his 'tales for children' - and I predict I'll be dipping into The Screwtape Letters before the end of the week.

At the cricket, Boxing Day 2011

A highlight of Christmasses spent in Victoria is a trip to the Boxing Day test at the MCG. Pete and I love our test cricket, and this is our biennial experience par excellence.

We arrived early yesterday:



and to our surprise all seats, even general admission, were allocated. Fans of Big Bang Theory may laugh with us when we say that we've found "our spot" at the MCG - at least for watching cricket! And no, I won't give you those seat numbers :)

Sometimes we take a radio to the cricket; yesterday was not one of those days. This leaves you free to form your own firmly held opinions, unfettered by experience, expertise or perhaps even external validity. For example, I thought Ponting's panache as he took possession of the pitch highlighted Cowan and Warner's lack of confidence earlier - but it should probably be noted that my husband disagrees. Having no expert to settle the dispute either way, we could bicker about it for one and a half sessions ... and enjoyed doing so.

Warner's first four and six were highlights of the first session. At first, I felt frustrated by Cowan's low run rate, but as time went on I came to admire his "stickability". We were both quite excited when Ponting came to the crease:

and watched his dismissal with sadness, knowing this may be the last time we see him play live. I feel irrationally responsible for this, having turned to my husband and said "If he can just hold on for another 13 minutes until teatime ..." seconds before he was out, caught by Laxman, bowled Yadav. Other highlights included Gambhir's fielding (which I hope the commentators paid homage to), Dhoni's wicket keeping and, of course, Yadav's bowling, which we hadn't seen before.

I love being at the game and watching the fielding team's rhythm of attention: the way the their focus gathers, and dispels, during each delivery cycle.

The day was quite cold and drizzly until after lunch. We left part way through the third session, not wanting to be two tired individuals amidst tens of thousands at the Richmond station after stumps, so we missed seeing yesterday's two controversial dismissals live. Also - with my vampire-pale skin - I was probably the only person at the MCG getting sunburnt yesterday morning, despite SPF 30+ sunscreen and full shade! So when the sun came out, that was time for us to retire:

Pete and I have a knack for attracting interesting people at the cricket. Two years ago, a drunken man - who'd already been expelled from the ground for invading the pitch - settled beside us for a while, to our discomfort. The sight of police officers sent him running again. This year, we enjoyed listening to a father introducing his two sons to the joys of test cricket. Given the age gap between father and sons, we suspect a second wife in the background! However, it must be said his patience, discipline and love were a joy to hear. The younger of these boys provided the inspiration for this little list of more productive uses which could be made of those inflatable clapper things:

1. Re-create the soundscape from Fleetwood Mac's Tusk
2. Lumbar spine support against the rigid MCG seats
3. Paper-bag style breathing techniques faced with the fear of an Australian disgraceful defeat
4. ... let's face it, anything which doesn't involve loud noises near my ears, or dislodging the clip from my hair.

Cricket's on the TV and radio now, and in two years, we'll be back at the Gee again. Bring it on!

Oops: I'm being irrational

My favourite thing today? That sudden 'clunk' in your mind, as you realize you've left the rational behind and are acting on some other sphere ...

For me, this moment came when I was on the phone to CityLink* trying to sort out a complicated story involving me, deposits made into my CitiLink account, and an alarming Final Notice which had just arrived in the mail. Having been cut off by Optus** mid-way through a conversation with a quite-nice-seeming person called Jessica, I was explaining the whole sorry business again to a not-quite-so-nice person called Ben, when I suddenly burst into tears.

So while part of me is attempting to conclude this important conversation through tears, snot and Kleenex***, another part is asking - "What's going on? Get a grip! Oh boy are you being irrational right now! Shouldn't you be embarrassed? Yep ... here it comes: embarrassment!"

Thankfully, one small part of my brain had retained its grip on reality and was able to reassert control: "OK, so you're crying. Big deal. Ben doesn't know who you are. Come on, sweetheart, just pull yourself together. That's the way!" This same small part of my brain toyed with bribing me back into good behaviour with Green and Black's chocolate****, but rejected the idea in the interests of health. (No, I lie: it was because I'd have had to go to the shop to get some, and I couldn't be bothered, what with the snot and the Kleenex and everything.)

Anyway, I stopped crying, Ben and I were able to wrestle the overdue business under control, we parted on good terms and I am left sitting here, asking: "What the ...?" and wishing I were one of those people who would quite happily dose themselves into vegetation with Valium*****.

What am I taking away from this little story? I think it's time for the Catie-equivalent of "a Bex and a good lie-down", which for me today means "a cup of tea and re-watching the last season's finale of Dr Who".******

Irrationality: part of being human.

Yippee.



* The corporation who allow us to drive on 'their' roads in exchange for our money
** The corporation who allows us to make mobile phone calls in exchange for money - without even charging extra for the additional excitement factor of not knowing when one will be unexpectedly severed from communications
*** The corporation who provides tissue products created to deal precisely with this type of situation
**** The corporation who peddle delectable organic chocolate, which I'm quite happy to exchange money for
***** Produced by the Roche corporation, according to http://biopsychiatry.com/drugcompanies/ - you learn something new every day!
****** Yes, no doubt I could reference a few more corporations here, but it's grown a bit old - wouldn't you agree?