James Lovelock

I was a teenager when I first heard of the Gaia hypothesis. In Oz, we learned that the amount of CFCs emitted by our spray aerosols, refrigerators and so on were contributing to the phenomena known as the Greenhouse effect. We heard that these CFCs were creating a hole in the ozone layer which protects Earth from being burnt to a crisp by the Sun. This was big news in Oz, a place where the sun is so strong you can feel it burning into your skin on hot days. Suddenly we all started using roll on deodorants and pump sprays.

James Lovelock is the man who discovered the build up of CFCs and coined the Greenhouse effect which is part of his larger Gaia hypothesis. His view is that Earth is part of a self regulating, living organism of which the human species is but an element. Due to the impact of human activities on Earth, the median balance of this organism is shifting, causing a rise in the average temperature on Earth. Put it this way. It’s as if the human body temperature rose from an average operating point of 37 degrees celsius to 42 degrees. What would happen to us as a species? Some of us would die but over time, perhaps our bodies would adapt, evolve and our species might live on in an altered way.

I went to see James Lovelock last night in conversation at the Southbank Centre. For an eminent scientist/philosopher in his 90’s, he did not disappoint. His brain was sharp and irrigated and his views were not those of a harbinger of doom as he is often portrayed (unfairly, I feel) in the media. His approach seemed based on empirical evidence and he fully acknowledged that science does not have all the answers and is based wholly on probability. He spoke about the need for scepticism in science to challenge views of people like himself. The area for which his scorn was reserved was that of politicians, climate boards and scientists who fudge data in order to affect policies. I felt that I was in the presence of someone truly learned whose vision is before his time.


It was bitter sweet to see in the flesh someone whose learning and advice will accumulate resonance as the years roll on, long after he has passed. I feel sad about this but for many great thinkers in human society; this always seems to be the way.

All the more pity for us.

Thriller

I went to see Thriller last night at the Lyric on Shaftesbury Avenue. I had heard that the musical was a tribute to the music of MJ rather than a story of his life. My friend Nancy and I had been talking about going since last July. Finally we managed to park our butts in said theatre seats as the house lights went down and the disco lights came up on four men wearing black afro wigs and shaking their groove thang. A short kid with a natural afro followed them. As he got ready to sing, I wondered:

What’s it gonna be? Ben? I’ll Be There? Blame it on the Boogie?

He opened his mouth and out floated … Music and Me.

Cool, I thought. It really is going to be a tribute.


From there on in, we were not disappointed. The cast on stage delivered song, after song, ebullient and effervescent as if they were singing and dancing the tunes for the very first time and not the 7045th. They sang songs I did not know as well all the hits. Backed up by excellent set and lighting, the show focused wholly on entertaining the bejesus out of us. Good ol’ fashion showbiz entertainment. Which whatever your opinion of Michael Jackson is, is what he left us as his legacy.

So stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

The G Spot

Lady Gaga released her new music video, Telephone recently and all hell broke loose.

Oh, it’s so sexist, foamed one female reviewer.

We’ve come a long way baby, but you’re taking us back to the Dark Ages, bleated another.

Lesbian kisses and studded bikinis do not good female role models make, was a third retort.

I watched the video to see what the fuss was about. And then I watched it again because I liked it. I found it smart and sexy. Full of cinematic references and designed with all the House of Gaga trademarks of ingenuity, humour and irreverence. Lady Gaga divides opinion like Moses the Red Sea but to all the humourless, feminist-masquerading journalists with their poised talons, I say:

It is possible to wear a bikini and still have a brain you know.


Lady Gaga is a performance art installation come to life. She is Alice in Wonderland grown up and on acid. At a time where pop means American Idol and X-factor producing bland forgettables, someone who can write catchy pop tunes, sing, dance and look like a moving art exhibit is a breath of fresh air.

As is another lady whose name starts with the letter G. After all these years, I finally know what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be Granny OGrimm. Click here to see why.

Academia or Bust?

I'm trying to decide at the moment whether academic life is the way forward. I have an offer to take up postgraduate study in the UK in a subject area so niche that nowhere else in the world offers it. Does this mean it's a shit subject? Or so cutting edge that everyone else has yet to catch up? And even they offer it, is the uni in question any good at delivering it? The sceptic in me decided to undergo my own research before I handed over my dosh and committed myself to a scholar's life a.k.a. as, poverty.

Stepping onto campus resulted in some vivid flashbacks. Walking past the uni tavern, my tastebuds suddenly craved nachos and cheap beers (UWA). The student union office flashed like a homing beacon; sending out purple t-shirted flares to snare me back in to the mothership (Murdoch). Memories flooded back in a deluge so thick that for a few (lovely) minutes, I thought I was in my early twenties again running around campus, loving student life.

Oh why did I ever leave?, I bemoaned as Memories played on full volume inside my head.

I remember why. Earn Money. Travel. And I had poohed-poohed the idea of being trapped in the ivory tower and not experiencing "the real world."

Well I have been out working in the supposed real world for awhile now and it ain't so great. At uni you are exposed to (well I was in my arts degree) the ideas and thoughts of key thinkers. It's a shock to come out and find that the day-to-day world is run by mostly idiots. And that if you had a brain in the first place, best turn it off so you can swallow up all the middle-management banality or avaristic policies without wanting to kill yourself. Success in the "real world" is about how much ass you kiss, how you navigate yourself and how much you can endure. And this is coming from someone who has mainly worked in the arts, education and charity sectors. Call me cynical. I dare you.

Can you hear my fist banging on the door of the proverbial tower?

As I sat in the lectures I had managed to inveigle my way into, I almost passed out with bliss as I listened to the audible noise of people's minds turning over. Words that I had not seen nor used since I left university made a sudden re-appearance:

Well hello Hegemony, I said. Here you are with your old friends, Phenomenology and Hermaneutics. Where have you been keeping yourselves all these years?

Oh how we laughed during our happy reunion. I still had no idea what they were on about though.

As fun as it was to pretend to be a student again for the day, I am still in two minds. I'm not in my early twenties anymore. And I have already worked in the industry that this degree situates you to go into. The only other outcome for me would be the academic path. To go forth into that tower for a long, long time.

And I'm not sure still, after all these years, if that is what I want.