January 09, 2005
A morning's surprises
It's been an interesting morning for me, so interesting I feel compelled to write an entry about it. Fortunately for you, dear readers, these revelations couldn't have occurred in a more temporally appropriate manner to their dramatic realisation on the page; that is, each surprising thing was more surprising than the last.
First up I got an email from my mother linking to an ABC story on that obscure activity known as "caving". Caving is the act of exploring the city's urban underground architecture - mainly of storm water drains and sewers. While these are interesting in themselves there are other occasional wonders to be experience. It might be the entrance to the bowels of an underground car park, a cave full of bats, or even an old stone bridge that has been assimilated into the arterial system of storm water drains.
http://www.abc.net.au/built/stories/s1124306.htm
What immediately drew my attention was the stunning photos on the right hand side of the page. Upon closer inspection I realised that I'd been to some of these places before. Yes, that's right, I used to run with the Brisbane Cave Clan. Many of the photos were from Brisbane but a large portion were from other states' capital cities. In one photo neon lights streak down a long brick sewer. I couldn't help but feel a sense of recognition - as far as I know it was us that pioneered this technique of timed exposure in the albeit highly specific setting of underground sewer exploration. But what finally made my eyes widen was reading who the author of the article was - dsankt. Looks like an online handle, and indeed it is, but it's an online handle I'm intimately familiar with. Just as I was getting into caving dsankt was taking over the reigns of the Brisbane Cave Clan as the older members became less interested. His tireless efforts in organising expeditions into the dark underbelly of Brisbane gave our clan a national reputation far in excess of the perceived architectural merit of the subterranean passages we explored.
It was good to see your name again my friend.
Shortly after thanking my parents for bring the article to my attention I checked my news feeds and discovered a link to a post humus defence of what most people consider to be P. G. Wodehouse's greatest blunder. P.G. Wodehouse, most famous for his books concerning the adventures of Bertie Wooster and his butler Jeeves, was unfortunate enough to be captured in France during World War II and placed in a camp. But in 1941, two years into the war, he was approached by some Germans who wanted him to broadcast a short series of light entertainment programs, from Berlin, with the ulterior motive of placating the Americans who had not yet entered the war. Naturally his stalwart fans, and the people of England in general, were not the least bit impressed. His friend from youth, A. A. Milne, author of the Pooh books, was absolutely scathing in his attacks upon him - and at first glance it seems eminently justifiable.
To find out how such actions could be seen the least bit defensible simply follow the link below.
And now for the greatest revelation. On my way back from dropping off the wonderful Philippa Grahame at work I was listening to Radio National1. Sir David Hare was being interviewed about his plays which are strongly political in nature, but on a small scale. To give you a taste, one of his plays is about the privatisation of the public rail system in England. Although I haven't seen any, I'm sure his plays are very interesting. Yet what really intrigued me was the words of praise he had for an American playwright by the name of Wally Shawn. In Hare's opinion Shawn was the only playwright tackling the really big issues. As an example he cited the fact that Wally is intensely concerned with the issue of the world's poor. How is it, really, that the ten percent of people that have all the wealth can be so at ease with the starving, (or at least underprivileged masses) that support our way of life?
This is an issue really close to my heart. We damn the past for colonialism, imperialism, witch-hunting, slavery, genocide, child-stealing and other such atrocities. We are aghast when we hear that such things took place often thinking, "How could people be so unaware of the harm their actions were causing?" But in the same way that we damn the past, the future will damn the present for its wilful ignorance and refusal to solve the tractable problem of world hunger. How is it that in good conscience we can burn mountains of food in France, pay people not to farm pigs and grow certain crops in the U.S. while others starve? It's not that there isn't enough food in the world, it's just a matter of distribution.
My interest in Wally Shawn's plays suitably piqued I decided to look up his name on Amazon. A list of books, including his plays appeared in the top four matches, but the next match, "The Princess Bride" intrigued me. My initial thought was that this was a false match - that it just so happened that there was an actor called Shawn and another calling Wally somewhere in the cast of the movie. But, no, I was wrong.
In that movie, Wally Shawn, is the angry little balding guy with a lisp. In other movies he plays a bubbly little honest-looking gentleman with a lisp. He even did some voice acting in the latest Pixar block-buster "The Incredibles". This little man is the same one tackling the big issues of the world. This completely floored me - I stood up, walked into another room and exclaimed to the open air, "How freakin' cool!" Here was the quintessential example of the type of person your mother has in mind when she says, "Don't judge a book by its cover". All over the internet reviews use superlatives such as genius, and unsung hero to describe his plays.
And here we all are, disarmed by his diminutive size and obvious speech impediment. There is just something about him that screams "minor character" or "comic relief". But he's fully aware of all this and has manipulated this perception of himself to his advantage in his acting career.
I feel it necessary to write an essay about the people in the movies who aren't drop dead gorgeous. You know, the people who play the fat, the idiots, the morons, the ugly ones. They simply have to be aware of the way in which they are intended to be perceived when they land these roles. Why do they do it then? What makes them tick and what it is they think they are accomplishing. Are they just doing it for the money, or is there a deeper goal?
Remember kids, appearances can be deceiving.
[1] I cannot stress enough how cool Radio National is. It's the voice of the intellectual minority in Australia. I'd like to think that its presenters, producers and writers are simply imbued with more common sense than the rest of us, but the reason that the station resonates with me so much probably resides in the fact that, politically, I lean more to the left than the right.