Double fault, or just a bad rally?

Sports commentators were agog last night, as they are this morning. The sky seems to have fallen in. The world has turned upside down. And Roger Federer is out of the Australian Open.

Last night's semi-final at the Rod Laver Arena was a bitter disappointment for us staunch Federer fans, as he bowed out to 20 year old Serbian Novak Djokovic, 7-5 6-3 7-6 (7-5). Djokovic played exceptionally good quality tennis, while Roger looked out of sorts and somewhat slow. After the match, an ecstatic Djokovic said that "it's just amazing, indescribable, to beat the number one player in the world, one of the best players this sport has ever had, in straight sets." Evidently, television and radio commentators and newspaper journalists also thought so, and now believe that Federer's loss portends dark days for the Swiss champion. "If he loses this, he'll start losing a lot of matches, heavily", predicted one correspondent on ABC Radio. Roger Rasheed, speaking on behalf of Channel 7, called it "one of the biggest upsets in Australian Open history", in one of the few moments he could put together a coherent sentence. Today, The Advertiser's Leo Schlink maintains that Federer was "torn apart", and that he has become a "leadfooted liability." The BBC, far more reserved in such matters, nonetheless regarded Djokovic's win as a "shock". Almost to a man, dire futures are seen for the world number one.

Roger Federer, above, and below, Novak Djokovic,
Federer's nemesis at the Australian Open last night.

Well, I say it's all garbage. We are talking about a player who, despite suffering from a stomach virus and without having played any warm-up matches for two months before the Open, managed to make it through to the semi-final, along the way disposing of such esteemed players as James Blake, Janko Tipsarevic, Tomas Berdych and Fabrice Santoro. True, Tipsarevic took him to five sets, but Federer still won. What is more, saying that losing to Djokovic is a "shock" is like saying that Liverpool could never beat Arsenal. Novak is the world number three, and a player touted as the next big thing in men's tennis. He has now played Federer seven times, and won twice; that one of those victories was in the Australian Open semi-final does little to assuage the fact that Federer has a winning percentage of 250% over his erstwhile opponent. Yes, Federer is brilliant, and no, we don't expect him to lose, but if he does, what shame is there losing to the third-best player in the world? Pete Sampras was, during his career, the best player on the tour, yet he occasionally lost to the likes of Stefan Edberg, Jim Courier and Andre Agassi. Did this mean he was washed up, that his career was over? No! He went on and kept winning, and that is why Pistol Pete has the world record of 14 Grand Slam titles to his name. Federer, on the other hand, has 12, and has now been the world number one for a grand total of four years and one week. Isn't it likely that, at some point, he will slip up? Or, to give credit where credit is undoubtedly due, that he will be outplayed on one or two occasions, such as he was last night?

Federer himself is philosophical about Djokovic's win, saying that "there is no doubt I have played better before. It's not easy coming out every week trying to win. You'll always run into fellow top-10 players or other guys who are on a streak or a hot run or surprise you. That's the difficulty about tennis." If anyone knows how difficult it is to win, it should be Federer, having made fifteen consecutive Grand Slam semi-finals, which by definition means he faces off against one of the four best players at that tournament. That he has gone on to win most of them, and in fact win 12 titles as a result, is astonishing. And it is this success that means we are profoundly shocked when he is beaten. As Federer said last night, "I've created a monster that I need to win every tournament." If he doesn't, our commentators see writing on the wall where there is none.

In actual fact, there is no shock to Federer's loss to Djokovic, other than possibly the fact that he lost in straight sets. When Roger Rasheed, himself a mediocre and uninspiring tennis player in his own day, began to sprout all manner of doom-and-gloom predictions for Federer's career, fellow commentator and former world number one Jim Courier was quick to correct him, pointing out that the far more comprehensive straight sets win by Jo-Wilfried Tsonga over second seed Rafael Nadal the night before was certainly more of an upset. Tsonga is unseeded and well down the world rankings, while Nadal had previously had a white-hot Australian Open, and was being touted as a possible champion. By comparison, Federer's defeat by the number three player at the tournament must surely rank as a ripple rather than a wave.

Yet commentators insist on putting the worst spin on the match. Advertiser man Schlink gleefully points out that this is the earliest that Roger has lost in a Grand Slam in years, conveniently playing down the fact that this is the semi final, the second-to-last match in the entire tournament. Radio reporters insist that other players on the tour now know that Federer is not invincible, something they surely knew already, as this is not the first time he's lost to Djokovic, let alone to anyone else. And, while journalists feast over the fact that Federer is unlikely to win three Grand Slams this year like he has for the previous many years, let's not ignore the fact that Djokovic or Tsonga, whoever holds that Rod Laver Trophy aloft tomorrow, will find that Roger's name is already etched into the silver. Three times.

So before we consign Federer to the scrapheap of sporting has-beens, let's reflect on the fact that he lost in the same round as the world number two, and was beaten by the world number three. Let's also reflect on the fact that the 7-5 6-3 7-6 scoreline is comparable to Federer's win over Djokovic in last year's US Open final (7-6 7-6 6-4), and that Federer wins two and a half matches against Djokovic for every one that Djokovic wins. Consider as well that Roger is on the verge of beating Sampras' record in Grand Slams, and I think you'll see why Jim Courier, John Alexander and even Novak Djokovic, in saying that Roger is either one of or else the best player ever, are still correct, and will be for some time to come. After all, as Roger himself said, "still, the semi-finals is not bad."

Tell me how many other players made it that far. Now tell me that any one of them losing at that level will destroy their career. There, now you know how stupid it sounds.

Talent Hour

It may seem surprising in the age of multi-quadrillionaire celebrities having moons named after them because a film of theirs did quite well, but talent these days is as hard to come across as a dodo. And it's about as rewarded as a dodo, insofar that they are dead as...well, you know the rest.

In this, I am quite certain that evidence bears me out. Jack McDevitt, for instance, is a very talented author, creating excellent worlds out of nothing but his imagination, but who is generally ignored because the literary geeks of the world suddenly act like twelve year-olds because McDevitt writes science-fiction. Then it's a case of "LOL sci-fi isn't really literature LOL." Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, on the other hand, wrote possibly the most boring twaddle known to mankind, because it bills itself as factual-based fiction but is actually a socio-political rant about Stalinism, and yet critics have wet-dreams about Solzhenitsyn's and gleefully expound on its thought-provoking and emotionally-challenging themes. Look, I'm sure the guy had a tough time in the gulag, and I'm equally aware that this was an important issue. But just because Calvin Coolidge had important things to say, does not mean that his Gulag ArchipelagoHave Faith In Massachusetts is a literary oeuvre. I'd much rather read about Alex Benedict, Indiana Jones of the something-bazillionth-century, and his life on Rimway. Certainly more than a political polemic dressed up as fine fiction.

The same goes in music. Elvis Costello is a clever lyricist, but is better known for his dress sense than anything else. Aiming to be in a band and write the Great American/British/Australian Song is a surefire way to land yourself living out of your car, but then there are people like Britney Spears. Britney is rolling in cash, for the reason that her music makes sweaty, pockmarked nerds dream about her frolicking around in a too-tight leather skirt and not much else, and because average early teen girls want to know how they can get the popular boys to imagine them frolicking around in a too-tight leather skirt and not much else. Britney's famous (and fatuous) insistence that she would be a virgin until she got married inspired millions of young girls worldwide, many of whom didn't know what virginity was but liked the sound of the word, to lose it as quickly as they could. Brit could probably be put on trial at the Hague on charges of making Supre popular and knocking it into impressionable heads that the Australian Government's Baby Bonus could be collected at 14. Oops, they did it again. And yet she is rich beyond my wildest imagination.

And what is my point?

...I'm not too sure.
By the way, look up Zero Punctuation. Gold.

Green with envy

I do not understand the green movement.

Don't get me wrong. I understand that the environment is important. I think minke whales should be protected, and that we should take steps to secure fresh water supplies, before China and India go to war over the glaciers in the Himalayas. I think that watering your prize-winning rhodedendrons is not as important as having enough to drink, and I don't much care for the exceedingly charred tan the hole in the ozone layer will probably give me sometime soon.

But there are some limits to what is common-sense environmentalism, and what is utter crap. And there's quite a lot of the latter going around at the moment. First off, the political party, The Greens. This is a little like Nick Xenophon. They have a party platform, being that they want Australia to be environmentally-friendly. Kyoto sounds like a top idea, carbon emissions should be reduced, and Mike Rann's head should be tapped as a source of geothermic energy. Sounds all very well and good so far. But what about issues other than the environment? If the Greens are primarily, as their name suggests, an environmental party, are they actually qualified to introduce bills regarding social justice, economics, diplomatic initiatives? This is especially difficult when we consider that they have not exactly said much about anything apart from Kyoto, carbon emissions and Mike Rann's head. It's a bit different to, say, the German Bündnis 90/die Grünen, also a "Green" party, but one which, in its campaign literature, also has a specific focus on other areas. As I said, the same problem can be seen with Nick Xenophon, and the Anti-Cruelty to Animals Party; it's all very nice if you don't want Australians to spend six zillion dollars on pokies, or if you think sheep aren't having a fair go, but what about taxes? How about free trade agreements? What are your positions then? Kind of limits the focus a little, don't you think?

But, admittedly, the Greens are not the worst of the green movement. Of course, energy is a primary issue these days, and we've been told lots that fossil fuels are bad. Okay then, I can understand that. But in the same breath, we are told that we should not, ever, have atomic power plants. Coal-fired power stations are bad and should be wiped out, but we can't replace them with a cleaner alternative. Apparently, this is due to the waste byproducts generated, which could be sunk deep into the earth, somewhere no one cares about (like Elizabeth), and left to degrade for a while. Also, though nuclear power stations have very few emissions other than steam, they're a shocking alternative, we are told, because they will explode. It seems that a catastrophic meltdown is a dead certainty, and those who oppose reactors point solemnly to Chernobyl. Because, of course, we would use outdated Soviet technology to build a fundamentally flawed atomic power plant on the intersection of three seismic fault lines. A quadrillion to one chance of an accident is too much for us to stomach. But then, what are the alternatives?

Our trendy green friends tell us that solar is wonderful, but it is actually very inefficient. At the moment, we really don't have the ability to store nearly as much power as we would need, meaning that any solar power plant would have to be supplemented by some other, more conventional means. Wind power is another alternative. This is a problem because:

• there has to be wind,
• we'd need to build hundreds of the turbines to generate a fraction of what a nuclear reactor could,
• the turbines are ugly.

No joking there. It is amazing how many of our rat-milk-latte-sipping environmental activists tell us how lovely wind power is, but then bitterly complain about what eyesores the turbines are. Not trendy enough, it seems.
Hydroelectricity is an excellent alternative, until it actually needs to be built. Then, our unshaven, earthy colleagues whinge about the environmental impact of building a dam. Any time a hydroelectric dam is even mooted, greenies point hysterically at China's Three Gorges Dam, and bitch non-stop about the number or rare mosses and earthworms that will soon be drowned. We can't even buy fifty billion hamsters and put them on treadmills to generate electricity, because then the environmentalists would shoot us for being cruel to animals.

Speaking of which, environmental militancy is on the rise again. Recently, it was suggested that, as Japanese whalers are stopping in our Antarctic Whale Sanctuary to butcher some whales for "research", the Royal Australian Navy could use force to get rid of them. I personally think it's a brilliant idea. Send one of the whaling ships to the bottom with a Harpoon missile or some shells from a Bofors deck gun, and see how many come back to try again. But then, our green friends would complain about the heavy metals that then litter the seabed. Probably because the Japanese are meant to be our friends, Mr Alexander Downer says that we won't blast any whaling ships out of the sea, which is a pity, but probably wouldn't be too politic. Okay, I understand that. But now some group says they'll be taking their small flotilla of boats down to the whale sanctuary, and they'll be ramming the Japanese ships. Given that these are green boats, I imagine they're made of some environmentally-friendly biodegradeable plastic or something, but five will get you ten that, whatever they're made from, a dedicated whaling trawler is going to make very short work of it. The damn things are designed for extensive cruises near icepacks, for christ's sake. The result of a ramming will probably be fifteen greenies manning the lifeboats as their own vessel sinks out from underneath them. And then what? Do they expect the Japanese to rescue them, or is the Royal Australian Navy expected to send a frigate to pick them up?

Just goes to show that it's often a good idea to think things through.

One final thought, and not to do with our v-neck, organic sweater-wearing colleagues. I was visited by two Jehovah's Witnesses today, who tell me that the Kingdom of Heaven will be ruled by God and 144,000 advisers. All, presumably, Jehovah's Witnesses. According to JW-media.org, there are currently 6,700,000 Jehovah's Witnesses. Let's assume, although the figure will be on the low side, that, since foundation of the Bible Students/Jehovah's Witnesses movement in 1876, there have been 10,000,000 Jehovah's Witnesses. This means that only about 1 in every hundred Jehovah's Witnesses will be chosen by God to go to Heaven. If you're a Jehovah's Witness, it must be pretty crappy knowing that you might have the same faith as every other Witness, ever, and yet you're pretty unlikely to be favoured by your god. Why would you bother?

Brand New

What is new? Or rather, who is new?

Well, here's the answer.

This is the newest member to my family, little Zac Thomas Hazeldine, first son of Stuart and Stacey, and thus my new cousin. But I'll say nephew, as I like the idea of being an uncle.

So, to the (very) young Zac, I can only say, Yo.

Seven Worlds

Crowded House are the definitive Australasian band. There can be no argument to that, especially after Tuesday night's concert, at the Adelaide Entertainment Centre.

The gig began with special guests, Augie March. These guys come from Melbourne, and when I first heard of them (and saw their lead singer on Spicks & Specks) I thought they'd be something super-duper alternative and weird, a la The Grates or some other experimental band who have difficulty making music. I wasn't expecting much, so it doesn't say much that my expectations were exceeded. What I should say is that they were blasted out of the water. Seriously, they were that good. I was muchly impressed, and fully intend to buy Moo You Bloody Choir in the morning, or whenever the hell I wake up.

But as good as they were, Augie March are not Crowded House, and soon Neil Finn and Co. were up on stage, beginning with a fabulous rendition of my old favourite, Private Universe. This high energy, thumpingly good intro was just a taste of what was to come, though. Neil Finn, Nick Seymour (or is that "Soymir"?), Mark Hart and Matt Sherrod expertly crafted a show of older, universally known hits, lesser-known gems, and the latest offings from their latest studio album, Time on Earth. In the first category, Don't Dream It's Over would, by rights, have stolen the show. However, Weather With You captured the audience's hearts so completely that even the ushers forgot what they were supposed to be doing, while Locked Out, possibly the finest Paul Hester-driven song ever, was so unbelievably energetic that you'd almost have thought the much-missed drummer was still banging away at cymbals and running through laneways, furiously shaking maracas like his life depended on it. Speaking of Hester, no one could ever replace him, but Sherrod, who used to play with Beck, seems to have been both the most logical and perfect choice to take his place.

About midway through the concert, Neil decided that it was time to pull out one of the very old favourites, and with Nick, Matt and Mark offstage, he sat down at the keyboard and belted out a magnificent rendition of the Split Enz classic, Message to my Girl, which made more than a few people in the crowd bleary-eyed with emotion. That's not to say it was only the old, old material that got playtime; in addition to the likes of Fall at Your Feet, little-known songs, such as Hole in the River, got a rousing reception, and Time on Earth fans were rewarded with pitch-perfect performances of Transit Lounge, Say That Again, Pour le Monde and Don't Stop Now. After two encores, the extravaganza closed with Better Be Home Soon, and the audience left, $80 out of pocket but just that little bit richer than when they arrived.

If you haven't yet bought Time on Earth, or are completely uninitiated in the art of Crowded House, buy now. Don't even hesitate for one second. And if they come back, bite the bullet and get yourself a ticket. I guarantee you I'll be there, too.

The death of the Sunday night movie, and other cliches

Tonight there is a movie on Channel Seven, by the name of Final Approach. No, not destination. Approach. It "stars" Dean Cain, and you can really see why he never became anything after Lois & Clark. He is the duddiest dud in a movie that plumbs the depths of duddiness. Basically, it adheres to a whole heap of film cliches, plus really bad SFX. In short:

• Random terrorists hijack a plane. One of the passengers just happens to be the most respected FBI hostage negotiator in the history of the universe.
• Said FBI passenger worked, respected and beloved, until one mistake many years ago led to the deaths of several hostages; as a result, his reputation has been forever tarnished.
• Hijackers say they have a dirty bomb on board, and will detonate it over Los Angeles.
• Somehow, against all odds, the FBI passenger defeats the hijackers.
• The good guys take control of the plane just a few seconds before the Air Force would receive orders to shoot it down.
• As luck would have it, the pilot has been killed and the copilot knocked unconscious, leaving the plane in the hands of a man who has never flown anything before, but must land the aircraft safely anyway, with the help of air traffic controllers.

Excuse me for being a cynic, but isn't this the plot for just about every hijack movie ever made? In fact, to save time, the pilot should carry a gun on board, so that, the moment there is a whiff of hijacking in the air, he can club the copilot over the head, and shoot himself, thereby saving the terrorists the trouble of doing it themselves. Also, I believe they could simplify the unbelievable bits about the Member of the Public who becomes a pilot, and specifically his communications with Air Traffic Control:
Plane: Um, hi. The pilot of my plane is dead and I have to somehow land this 400 tonne jumbo jet at the nearest high-density airport, without dropping it on to the populous city below. You gotta help me!
Air Traffic Control: Okay pal, take it easy, we'll make this real simple. Now, first thing's first...have you ever played Microsoft Flight Simulator?
This would also make the possibility of crashing much easier to deal with.
Plane: So, what happens if I look like I'm about to hit a building?
ATC: Simple. Just press 'Y', and then hold down 'F4' until you're high enough...

But really, there are a whole heap of cliches in the movie world, and soon, all movies become formulaic. These include:

• in the army, all officers are idiots/cowards/nancy boys/all of the above, and it's only because of their second-in-command, a hard-bitten and battle-scarred sergeant who has seen it all, that everyone gets through it alive;
• also in the army, there is always a soldier named Kowalski, and any military action ever undertaken was undertaken solely by Americans - even in the ancient Greek wars;
• the poor street kids who are more likely to end up in gaol will always come good, thanks to some superfantastic teacher who miraculously appears and somehow wins their respect and gratitude;
• any racial tension, riots and massacres in any town or country can be overcome by sporting success;
• the protagonist in any romantic comedy always has one or two token gay friends for moments when entertainment is needed;
• the guy with the British accent is suave and beloved by all, but is actually the bad guy.

In other news, MOTION CITY SOUNDTRACK! ZOMG!

Back with their third studio album, the boys from Minneapolis have come out with a quality record yet again. Even if it Kills Me is a marvelous fusion of their first two albums, I am the Movie and Commit This to Memory, with some innovative new experiments in melody and lyrics that work perfectly. The moog is back, the guitar is back, Justin Pierre's hair is back. Everything impresses.
Songs of the album: at the moment, Calling All Cops and Hello Helicopter.
Rating: Twenty million. Out of five.

The Star Trek: Mariner site is in production, and the novel, The Omega Paradox, is still being written. Yes, I know my original deadline was for March 2007, then September 2007, but it's looking more and more like May next year, if then. But it's shaping up nicely. As for the site, it is unbelievably excellent, thanks to the web design genius that is Courtney M. Jameson. Thank you so much, CourtneyBerry, and to everyone else, you'll soon see why I'm so excited about this.

Finally, if anyone needs to buy a computer or other home office things from David Jones around Christmas, come visit me, eh?

21

Right now, family members are plotting to give me presents. Parents could be planning an embarrassing photo opportunity, and people I work with will be getting drunk in the afternoon. I'm Special Agent Bodie Ashton, and the next 24 hours will be the most awesome twenty-first birthday I've ever had...

...hey, wait a second...

PREVIOUSLY ON 21
*Lauren* "Wait, was I meant to actually be at my own 21st party? How rad is that??"

*Jenkins* "Pool. Scotch. Hell, I'm cooler than cool."

*Raf* "Yaaaaargh!" *runs into pole, breaks leg*

*Stevo* "Oh my God, my 21st was sooo bad! I'm gonna kill myself cos I'm so shit...wait, no I can't! DRAGONFORCE!!"

...and a sneak peak of this week's episode:
Setting: Belgian Beer Cafe. Bodie is sitting, drinking Belle-Vue. Mobile rings.
Bodie: "Hello?"
Voice: "Bodie."
Bodie, instantly sober: "Good afternoon, Mr President."
President: "Bodie, I understand this is your birthday. But you must understand that my duty is to the people of this country first. I cannot let my own personal feelings get in the way, and that includes the fact that you've saved my life on seventy-two occasions."
Bodie: "Yes, I understand, sir." *Turns to camera, dramatically* "This will be my last assignment..."

*beep-BEEP-beep-BEEP...*

Stay tuned...