Author: Kruse

Snakes

ophid·io·pho·bia (n) : \ö-¸fid-ë-(¸)ö-’fô-bë-?\ : abnormal fear of snakes

Okay – I think it’s fairly well known that I hate snakes.  And yes – I think you could say I am scared of them.  And the fear quite likely goes some way towards creating that hate.  But – and this is important – it is NOT an irrational fear, and certainly should not be abnormal amongst other rational humans – nay – beings.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say snakes are evil, per se.  Well… maybe I would.  Because if there is such a thing as ‘evil’ – then the whole spirituality thing comes into play, innit?  So – if I was to subscribe to the ideals of ‘good’ & ‘evil’ – then I would point out that the main ‘baddie’ in the first ever (and still overall) bestselling novel – The Bible™ – was a snake.  In fact – the core and genesis of all evil – representing itself on earth as a snake.  So – did the devil choose to portray himself as a snake, because that’s what tickled his fancy (you know his type – listens to heavy metal down in his cave, probably got a tattoo of a skull with a  snake coming out an eye socket on his bicep hidden by that even more stylish red cape) – OR, did he have no choice in the matter – a snake merely being the natural form attributed to him when he appeared in the Garden?  Either way – not good evidence for presenting snakes as benevolent beings we should have any trust for.

But – laying all aside the mythology – down to pseudo-science.  Researching the scientific term for the phobia of snakes – I came across the following:

“Care must also be taken to differentiate people who do not like snakes or fear them for their venom or the inherent danger involved. A ophidiophobic would not only fear them when in live contact but also dreads to think about them or even see them on TV or in pictures.”

This quote had no citations to back this up.  Because it is nonsense.  It is not irrational to dread thinking about them, or seeing them in TV or pictures.  Try thinking of one now!  Slithering, sneaking, sneaking up on you with malice in it’s gleaming nasty eyes so it can bite you with it’s vicious little teeth – maybe poisonous, maybe not – I don’t care, it’s not cool.  And seeing them on TV or in pictures just reminds one that these monsters are actually real.  For really real real.

Immediately following the above – was the following:

“Recent studies conducted have theorised that humans may have an innate reaction to snakes, which was vital for the survival of humankind as it allowed such dangerous threats to be identified immediately”

This  DID have a citation (from the hallowed National Geographic no less) – and makes a helluva lot more sense.  “innate reaction to snakes”, “vital for the survival of humankind”, “dangerous threats” – the National Geographic don’t just take pretty photographs – they know their shit.

Scientific studies people – pointing out that even the not-so-smart cavemen knew enough to be scared of snakes.  Are you dumber than a caveman?  Christ – they didn’t even know how to hang bead curtains at the mouths of their caves.  But – they DID know enough to know that snakes are ‘dangerous threats’.  And – they weren’t selfish.   Sure – Peking Man could have pretended he wasn’t afraid of snakes – and gone to show off in front of that hot Woman X teasing a viper or something – hoping to get back to her place (got one of them new ‘Fire’ you know), but he didn’t.  No – instead, he settled for someone a little dowdier, not so high maintenance.  And he stayed alive – “for the survival of humankind”.  Thinking of the children.  Thanks, Peking Man (sorry – xie xie, Beijing Man).

Snakes are not cool.  They’ve got no legs!  Look at Heather Mills.  She’s got one leg, and she is at a ridiculous level of psychosis, nastiness, and just not-cool.  So, via extrapolation – you’ve got to imagine ‘no-legs’ takes things to yet another level.  A level where the venom isn’t just crazy paranoid rambling – but actual poisonous kill-you-dead venom.  A level where the nastiness isn’t just spewing out bile in crazy television interviews – but sneaking around in the grass, up drainpipes, under beds, in rubbish, kitchen cupboards – and then striking out with nasty sharp fangs.  I would say – A level where the greed isn’t just “I’ve got more money than anybody could spend – but let’s go for more, and some reputation maybe” – but more “there’s a big piece of meat a thousand times my size – let’s kill it and take one bite out of it”.  Except, it can’t be greed.  A snake knows perfectly well it can’t eat me  (Well – an anoconda could at a stretch) – it’s trying to kill me for fun.  Nasty, nasty piece of work.

Snakes are cold-blooded.  You know where else the term ‘cold-blooded’ pops up?  “Cold-blooded killer”.  That’s not a coinicidence.  Snakes are killers, by their very nature.  We already know they’ll kill you even knowing they can’t eat you.  It’s just what they do.  And I don’t think it’s too bigoted to say – I don’t like that.  I don’t like things that just want to kill me – for no reason other than wanting to kill me.  I’m alright.  In fact, some people would rate me above average [citations needed].  But snakes want to kill me!  It just isn’t right.

Now – the whole cold-blooded thing – you might take the logical extension of this, and state “well, by that logic – all reptiles & fishies and what-not are killers”.  Well – yes, you’re right.  Sort of.  They all WANT to be killers.  Only some have the capability.  Take the Tuatara.  I love them – and would become an illegal international endangered species trader in a second if I could find one to purchase.  BUT – I would have no illusions.  If one of those suckers developed venom, or opposable thumbs and tool-making capabilities – I would be murdered within the day.  Just look at all the things in the world that can kill you.  Mammals – plenty of big strong things that can kill you if you endanger their young, or if they’re just hungry.  Reptiles, fish, insects, archnids – heaps and heaps of little things, big things, medium-sized things – that can kill you in various strange, painful, masochistic fashion. Piranha.  Candiru.  Spiders.  Insects.  Electric eels.  Stingrays.  SNAKES.  Not one of these could you stand up against in a fair bout of fisticuffs.  A tiger, lion, bear or elephant – I would give myself a chance of survival with a bit of the old rough-and-tumble, and a fair fight.  But – if that blood is cold, you got no chance – because you’re fighting a dirty little cheat, who probably killed you before you saw it.

So – what are we to do about it?  We can’t just get rid of all the snakes, can we?  YES – we can.  There are estimates that between 35-150 much cooler species become extinct every day.  So – a few species of snake in such a wildly varying estimate range would be alright, wouldn’t it?  Oh yes, oh yes – we can’t just go making things extinct willy-nilly – we don’t know the impact on the ecosystem, right?  Yep – agree wholeheartedly.  However – we know what snakes brought to the ecosystem.  They kill things.  The little ones kill mice, and the bigger ones kill anything they see.  Well – will that be sorely missed?  We’ve invented mousetraps, right?  We’ve invented right-wing pickup-truck driving hunters.  I think we’ve got the whole killing thing covered.  Snakes are obsolete.

And that is what I think about snakes.

By Micheal Kruse Age: 33

Spring struggles to, well…. ‘spring’

So – nearly halfway through April.  Still very little sign of ‘Spring’ – and temperatures are still lower here than in Wellington, every day.  And – the whole eating of lamb thing – going well.  Well as something so inherently ridiculous can really go, anyway.  I am starting to resent the entire Thai people for never getting into lamb.  It’s been less than two weeks, and I really miss Thai food.  And very few places near work have lamb as an option.  None of the ‘gastro-pubs’ anyway, which is probably saving me a fair bit of money.

The only other news is that we have a Katie staying with us.  So – conversations have become much more tangential, and our normal dynamic of “the last person to enter the room gets solid abuse by the other two” has changed, ever so slightly.

And now it’s time for my customary “and that’s about all I’ve been doing – working, nothing, working, nothing” line.

And with that in mind, I’ve been thinking of changing the format of this whole thing for quite some time.  I believe in my very first post – I alluded to the inevitability that this would devolve into a blow-by-blow account of my mundane life – despite best efforts to the contrary.  Well – I finally have a functioning portable personal laptop (fully nerded out with Linux) – and therefore should be able to and inclined to spend some time working online (trying to adapt to non-Windows).  Therefore, I will make an effort to write more stuff which is either “twitter-style”, ie: short sharp and potentially witty – and longer ‘essay’ pieces, most likely complaining about something.  One which has been simmering for a long long time is Snakes.  I have several things I’d like to say about Snakes.  So – I assume you are now waiting with baited breath.  Sucker.

Another Year Gone

Well, I thought I was rather clever.  I’ve got a fair bit of work coming up, so this previous weekend was probably going to be the last one I can be social for about 6 weeks.  And – I managed to swap my on-call with somebody else, and organise a fairly small gathering of people.  By coincidence, yes – it was my birthday – but I figured I wouldn’t mention it, and I could get away without people thinking it was some kind of birthday thing.  But – no, not to be.  I had forgotten several things.  Firstly – not everybody is as bad as I am about the whole birthday thing.  Several people seemed to remember off their own back… even before the second thing I’d forgotten – the hated technology.  Facebook especially – apparently may have some feature reminding people of upcoming birthdays.  And even if it doesn’t, family members will of course send publicly visible birthday wishes via Facebook and/or this here ‘web-log’.

So – after sitting at a table covered in delicious yum-cha for nearly an hour – I started feeling pretty smug.  A couple of people had said the whole happybirthday thing – but I managed to keep it quiet from everybody else.  Or so I had thought.  And then cards are pulled out.  And, it seems, the only people that weren’t actually aware were my own flatmates.  I really had thought I’d gotten away with it.  Not happy.  But – oh well…  It was a good day anyway.

(And thanks to everybody who attended, everybody who tried to attend but couldn’t, everybody from overseas who sent me messages, phone-calls, etc.  I think I have finally learnt my lesson – I can’t escape.)

Yum-cha in Chinatown – followed by a couple of quiet beers in a nearby pub.  The pub, however, was a dutch-themed pub – and therefore no beers that I was really too keen to drink.  So, champagne it was.  And, next thing we all know – it’s some ridiculous hour of the morning, and a few of us are in a taxi back to Balham – for a few more hours of drinking wine, beer, whiskey – and listening to music.  And discovering we have new neighbours upstairs.  Who probably have a very bad impression of us – after their first night being rather loud.  Not sure how many weekends of not-so-rowdy behaviour it will take for them to forgive us, and perhaps start to realise that this isn’t a particularly regular occurence – just very very bad luck on their part to move in on that particular weekend.

Anyway – that’s about all that’s happened since I’ve returned from NZ.  Have upped the squash-playing up to twice a week – but still a long long way off from giving Chook a serious challenge.  Have noticed my bank account shrinking – mostly due to the trip to NZ, and a sudden influx of bills.  That should turn around soon – as I’ve cut down my wine-drinking bill significantly.  (Well – the amount of wine has been cut severely – but the quality has probably gone up).  Anyway – looking at the costs of this trip I want to do at the end of the year, I should probably start caring about money a bit more, and trying to be ‘sensible’.  (ie: not drink champagne because I don’t feel like Amstel).

Oh – and it’s April very soon.  April’s New Month resolution – in honour of Spring (which I’ve heard should arrive soon) –  I will be eating lamb.  I’m a little worried about breakfasts – but have some ideas.

Aotearoa 2010

So – I’m back in the UK.  Back to the cold.  Miserable, grey, dreary, etc.

But – a quick synopsis of my trip to NZ.  (Ed: Having just finished it, maybe not so quick)  Got to Melbourne early in the morning, quite intoxicated already.  Elise picked me up from the airport.  Met a few people, had a few more drinks – and somehow stayed awake.  Until my flight that evening.  Got in the car – and off to the airport.  Got dropped off, then figured I didn’t have my passport or wallet.  One phone call later, and I’m on my way back into Melbourne.  And then – well, met a few more people, a few more drinks, and somehow stayed awake into the wee hours of the morning.  Really rather messy – all in all.  Called Qantas the next day – and bought a ticket on the next flight to New Zealand.  Happened to be Auckland rather than Wellington – not ideal, but my wee sister had taken time off work to be in Taranaki, so I just took whatever I could to get there as soon as possible.  So – arrived in Auckland about 10pm – very very exhausted.  Tried to get a rental car.  The nice people told me everything was booked out – and my best bet was to go into town, and get a rental car from one of the city companies the next morning.  So – wandered over to the domestic terminal to check for flights.  The domestic terminal was deserted.  But – there was a phone, and I found the next flight to New Plymouth was in the morning.  By this point I’m just kind of wandering aimlessly, unable to think properly.  Headed back to the international terminal to try and find a hotel somewhere, anywhere.  Noticed the rental car offices at the domestic terminal were open.  So – as a last-ditch option – stopped in to ask for a car.  Not expecting to have any luck – seeing as they were the same companies as those in the international terminal.  And surely they’d talk to each other, right?  Wrong.  I ask for a car, and the nice man says “sure”.  Fill out the paperwork, pay much more money than I expected – and I’m off.  The very first intersection, I drive through a red light – not noticing different lights for traffic going straight, and traffic turning right.  Pretty lucky there was nobody coming the other way, I treckon.  Very nearly did the same at the next set of lights also.  But – eventually got myself together, stopped to buy some L&P, and started the long drive south.  Didn’t start hallucinating until a few hours into it.  Kept thinking I should pull over and grab an hour or two of sleep – but didn’t find anywhere suitable, or kept finding an extra little bit of energy.  Until I was so close, I figured I might as well finish the job – and arrived at Stratford about 3 or 4am.  Nobody up – and door locked, as I’d sent a message I probably wasn’t going to make it that night.  So – woke people up, staggered inside, and collapsed.

And after that – it was pretty much a two-week blur of driving from town to town, visiting people, eating dodgy pies/sandwiches on the road, and usually delicious roast dinners in the evening.   Matt’s wedding in the middle was a welcome respite – if you can call it that.  Not really much of a rest – mostly consisting of driving from Wellington to Levin & back several times – and then the obligatory binge-drink at the wedding.  Lovely wedding though – and I just hope my messages of congratulation in the guest-book & my hastily bought/filled-out wedding card managed to convey my sentiments adequately & appropriately.

Next day – barbeque brunch – and managed to give everybody a fright with the old “pushed into the pool while holding my camera” gag.  Bought myself a waterproof camera on the way over, you see.  Got called “cruel bastards” by one chap when he figured it out.  And then – some more driving – back to Wellington initially.  And then onwards.  But to where, it seemed I didn’t really know.  I just started driving – got an hour out of Wellington, then realised that I didn’t know where I was actually going.  In that I didn’t really have a destination.  Or – I did, but my plan was completely unfeasible.  I think I had set out with the intention of going to Hawkes Bay, visiting somebody (anybody, hadn’t figured out who yet) – and then onwards to Reporoa/Rotorua to meet with Mum/Angela for dinner.  Until I had it pointed out to me that I probably wouldn’t be arriving in Reporoa/Rotorua until very late.  Found myself completely unable to think properly and make a plan – so had one made for me.  Ended up staying in Palmerston North – and having a lovely dinner with the Whitson clan, and young Katie Pi.  Not sure how they felt about having their daughter’s ex-boyfriend thrusted upon them at short notice – but it was a nice evening, and it was great to see them all anyway.

That ended in my giving Genevieve a lift back to Wellington – and then finding myself in another state of being unable to decide what I was doing.  I was very very close to just giving up, and sitting around in the Wellington sun for a few days – but finally got myself moving – and finished off visiting most of the people I was hoping to visit.  And finally, left myself with nearly a whole day of being able to relax in the Wellington sun.  Dropped off the rental car, complete with cracked windshield (luckily – this was the first time I’ve ever opted for the additional insurance – so didn’t cost me any extra), and quite a few more ‘miles on the clock’.  Except it was, of course, kilometres.  Because some countries are progressive enough to use the metric system.  While others aren’t.  You know who you are.  Anyway – it seemed that over the course of about 12 days – I’d driven somewhere between 3,500 & 4,000 kilometres.

And – back to Melbourne (managed to book a flight at much more expense than usual – due to booking it about two days prior) – where Elise tried to get me to ‘make a plan’.  ie: decide what we were doing that night, and where.  I don’t think she really understood that this was the last thing I was inclined, or able, to do at that point.  So – I might not have been too helpful.  Apologies Elise.

Anyway – I finally left, and I think it was probably the first time I ever looked forward to getting back to cold miserable dreary London, and back to the regular monotony of 9-5 work.  That viewpoint changed within an hour of being back in London of course.  I was absolutely buggered when I got back – and the brain wouldn’t even allow me to figure out what train I needed to catch from Gatwick to Balham.  I ended up just asking the nice man at the information counter – who spotted this immediately, and suggested I sit down and have a coffee before continuing my journey.  I declined his advice – figuring I would probably go comatose if I sat down.  So – continued on, got to Balham, and then resolved to stay awake as long as possible, so I would hopefully sleep through the night – to be relatively refreshed for work the next day.  Middling success on all counts.

All in all – I managed to visit most people I hoped to.  And to those people – apologies if I wasn’t my normal bubbly entertaining self.  Well, entertaining at least.  And to those people I didn’t manage to catch up with – apologies, but if it makes you feel any better – you probably didn’t miss much.  I was a broken wreck of a man by the end.  Well, from the beginning, really.

I have only now recovered completely.  Finished unpacking my bags over the weekend (lots of warm clothing from NZ – have really been seen without my SwannDri since I returned).  Tallied the overall cost.  Financially – I transferred some money from my UK account to my NZ account to pay my NZ credit card.  It just happened to be around the same time as my monthly pay.  But was more than my monthly pay.  Not including the major airfares.  Not often that I spend more money than I earn in a given time period – but this was certainly one.  But – in spite of the whinging tone – it was of course, overall, definitely worth it – in respect to the money, the effort, everything.  Next time though, I might just get a beach house somewhere, give people plenty of advance notice – and the mountain can come to me.

So… until next time…

Token Update

Hi all – just a token update.  Too busy travelling – and it’s a fiasco so far.  Missed flights, booked out rental cars, etc etc.

But – hoping to see as many people as possible while in New Zealand.  I’m bound to miss quite a few people – due to the shambles that it’s been so far, and my complete lack of any planning.  And hopefully I’ll be able to remember enough of the trip when it’s finished that I can write down some of the more interesting bits.

Twenty10

So – that’s finally over.  2009, that is.  And the whole 10 years of naming years with “Two thousand and …” – which was rather tiresome.  Now – we can get back to being lazy.  I actually read an article the other day about somebody being horrified by the possibility that people were going to continue calling 2010 “two thousand and ten”.  Horrified.  He was some official chap as well – and insisted that this was not correct – pointing out how every other year in history is pronounced, except the last ten.  Despite, of course, that technically – it’s always been wrong, and it just took the ‘noughties’ to force us back into pronouncing a 4 digit number the way it should be.  Oh – and I have heard some people all excited about the thought of what this decade is to be called.  It’s obvious.

Wow – did I just write a paragraph on THAT?  Okay – let’s get back to normal transmission.  The last couple of weeks – well… you can probably guess how this goes.  Just the same as every other time I’ve bothered to write – but multiplied by the ‘Festive Season’.  Various sessions of ‘drinks’ leading up to the end of December.  Then – the 25th.  Nicky Osborne’s birthday.  Jeebersmas.  People kept asking me if I was going home for it.  I had to point out that I didn’t even go home for MY birthday.

Anyway – on the 24th, did the fashionable thing and did some telephone/video calls with various people.  Then – went to bed in the wee hours of the 25th.  Woke up much much later.  Put on the trusty jandals, and went a-wandering.  I had been meaning to stock up on muffins and eggs the previous night – but had got waylaid.  So – had to wander around Balham, trying to find muffins and eggs.  Our local trusty 24-hour Tesco was closed.  Not cool.  BP – they sell nothing but death-deisel.  Finally found a little dairy – and had to settle for hamburger buns instead of muffins.  Worked remarkably well though.  Had two courses of eggs florentine/royale.  Did my laundry.  And felt like I’d had a good day.  But – then had to go meet Caitlin and her friends who had had a dinner party, and were now in the post-dinner phase.  Which seemed to involve plenty of booze and what-not.  Walked home at about 8am – ready for a nice Boxing Day nap.

Not to be, however, as I was awoken several hours later by flatmate Chris.  Who had promised his mother that he’d bring me along to her place, so I could be part of some kind of family thing on Boxing Day.  Which was nice, except I wasn’t really in a suitable state for such things.  But – along I went.  Snacked at some food, and had a couple of polite drinks.  I really can be quite polite when I put my mind to it.  And at about 3 or 4am, found my way to bunk beds – to complete the whole family-gathering type feel.

And then a week of work.  Well – I had actually been working throughout the above – as I was on-call for the week covering the 25th.  But for the week leading up to New Year’s – actually back in the office.  Which, of course, felt great.  And then… New Year’s Eve.  I don’t think I need to go into too much detail about that.  We prettied up our house for a party.  I went to the local bottle store, and the nice chaps carted my purchases back to our house for me on one of those cargo-trolley things.  And then we had dinner.  And then we had a party.  And then it was about 6pm the next evening – and there was myself and one girl sitting on the floor drinking, after somebody had foolishly suggested that one of us was more adept/determined at the consumption of alcohol than the other.  I honestly don’t know how it started – but it seems that we are both rather stubborn fools, with high opinions of ourselves.  And fair enough really – the evening ended with the swapping of mutual admiration – and an agreement to ‘call it a truce’ – which sounds suspiciously like a situation which could erupt again, now that I think about it.  A ‘draw’ would have been a much better term.  Oh well – too late now.  Anyway – she headed back to see if her husband had changed the locks, while I stayed up to try and sooth the razorblades in my throat with Kahlua.  I have pointed out before that if one drinks too much champagne, it feels like razorblades in one’s oesophagus.  Well – on the evening of the 01/01/10 – I was definitely experiencing this.  After two/three days of drinking nothing but Kahlua, and chomping down anti-heartburn medicine – it finally dissipated.  But for a couple of days there – wow, everything hurt.  Coughing, drinking anything, eating anything.  Luckily, I didn’t really want to do many of those things very often.

But – all in all, a fairly good ‘festive season’.  Not a ‘White Christmas’ strictly speaking – but there was a fair bit of snow just before, and just afterwards.  Including now – still snowing now.  I believe the ever lovable british media has coined the term “The Big Freeze”.  I wandered over to look at the fountains in Trafalgar Square this morning – and yeah, they’re pretty good and frozen.  And of course the media is complaining about airports being closed.  “In cities like New York & Moscow they have much more snow than this, and THEY never close their airports!”  Coming from the same people who would be up in arms if they actually did something about it… “What do you mean – you spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on snow-clearing machinery, when it might only be used once or twice a year??!!”  I think I need to stop using talkback radio as my alarmclock station.  It really doesn’t help one start the day with a smile.  If anybody knows of a radio station without any ‘Wacky Breakfast DJ Team’, or preferably any talking at all – I would be very grateful.

New Year’s Resolutions – I didn’t seem to get around to actually confirming those.  And it might be getting a little late now.  But – in the theme of album titles:

  • Hold Steady’s Stay Positive – ie: try to be a little more cheerful (or at least pretend).  If one ignores all the complaining above, I’m doing really well.
  • Faith No More’s Midlife Crisis – not strictly an album, but a song.  I will try to find a suitable album title – but I am going to attempt a deliberate and measured midlife crisis…
  • .. maybe Kings Of Leon’s Youth & Young Manhood ? – in that trying to recapture my youth – is essentially a midlife crisis, innit?

And the New Month’s Resolution for January is Darts.  And maybe Celebrity Big Brother.  Darts – because it’s cool, and exciting – and some championship or other is on TV at the moment.  And Celebrity Big Brother (CBB) – because I need to try and immerse myself in British culture – and what is British culture if not celebrities, reality television, and generally all things ‘tabloidish’.  CBB – perfect.