Showing posts from March, 2024

What God wants twelve year old priests?

Gnocchi Nico I prepared earlier Last night, after Mr G and I finished another sublime dinner (I know - I cooked it) he rose to take the plates into the kitchen, and I said while you're in there, after you rinse and stack can you wipe the benches.  He emerged a few minutes later and wiped down the table where we'd just eaten. I said thanks, the table needed that, but can you also wipe the benches. I think he nodded.  Some time later I went into the kitchen and saw the benches were wilfully, obstinately unwiped; the jars of salt, pepper, thyme, cayenne, and the 83 other herbs and spices I put into every meal were still out, and there was a glob of olive oil, a couple of bits of broken spaghetti, an unwashed knife, and various other detritus one would expect from an enthusiastic but imprecise cook still on the bench. I try to clean up as I go, but I also like listening to podcasts and loud music while I cook and sometimes things get away from me. And in any case, I had delegated f

Sort of book review - The Death of a President and the pre-history of childhood

The Death of a President , William Manchester's semi-official account of the Kennedy assasination,  had a turbulent journey to publication . In the wake of JFK's death, the Kennedy family, realising a deluge of books about the assassination was surely on the way, commissioned Manchester, a journalist who knew and liked Kennedy and whose work the family approved of, to write the official account of the events. Manchester duly spent three years researching and writing the book, interviewing all the key players including Robert and Jacqueline Kennedy. But as publication approached, the Kennedys, deciding the book was unflattering to them, and furious Manchester had sold the serialisation rights, attempted to block publication. They were unsuccessful in this endeavour, allowing us 60 years on to read this sanitised and simpering account of the days leading up to and immediately after Kennedy's death, as seen in the mores of the time. I can't even remember what motivated me

Where the NRL failed (apart from in Las Vegas)

America said no. The NRL managed to achieve one thing with their grand experiment in wowing Americans by playing two opening round matches in Las Vegas: flying more people across the planet to report on a footy match than actually watched the matches on TV locally. Well, not quite, but the NRL must have forked out what economists refer to as a shitload of money to fly half of the Australian media to Vegas to drum up hype for the league double header that managed to score just 61,000 TV viewers at best. The NRL can try to put a positive spin on this or debate where their marketing strategies failed, but if the aim was to get Americans excited about rugby league ("it's like the NFL, but no helmets and without play stopping every time someone touches the ball"), their big mistake was going to Las Vegas at all. Sure, it did get the cashed up young league players away from the toxic gambling culture of NSW for a bit, but Las Vegas is the absolute worst place* to attract a