I"m currently sitting in one of my favourite coffee joints. Pourboy in south Brisbane. (Okay, I guess I'm not any sitting there anymore cos I wrote this hours before posting it). You might have seen me rave about their croque monsieur because their croque monsieur is fucking awesome.
Douglas Coupland it was who coined the term 'option paralysis'. The tendency when faced with limitless choices to make none at all. He obviously knew music streaming was coming all the way back when he wrote Generation X. I often find myself defaulting to the same old albums and playlists simply because I can't think of what else to do. Voice control systems like Siri and Alexa make it much worse.
Conan, what is worst in modern life?
Catching the wires of your headphones on a door handle and having them pulled out of your ears. This. This is to know murderous rage.
Really? Conan?
We did a long drive through the Gold Coast hinterland yesterday; a strange, contrary world of mist shrouded valleys, plunging rainforests, icey cold streams and tiny hamlets. Nothing like the plastic shimmer of Surfers Paradise.
I had no idea this was even in development, let alone as a six part TV series. Directed by George Clooney!
Also I have no idea where it'll run locally, but wherever that is, I'll be there. I fucking LOVED this book when I read it, and six or seven hours of peak TV feels just about right to deliver it to the screen.
I am shocked, shocked I tell you, to discover a structural inequity fashioned into the very apparel with which our ladies must enclothe themselves.
Had a pleasant surprise this morning when I found a cheque-yes, an actual paper cheque, possibly delivered by carrier pigeon-in my PO Box. It was from Baen, for a story in John Ringo's Voices of the Fall anthology. I'd forgotten about that piece, and the money turned up fortuitously. The Aussie dollar is in free fall on rumours of an interest cut, and my car rego was due.
