Thursday, January 05, 2012
Monday, January 02, 2012
How I got my Netgear WN3000RP working
I'm sharing this on my blog because I had a bit of trouble getting my Netgear WN3000RP WiFi Network Extender working. So if you're having problems, read on.
I bought the WN3000RP just before Christmas. I followed the instructions on the box. It all seemed to be going well until I got to the final step, which should have completed the connection. But the forth light wouldn't light up, and when I clicked 'continue' I got an error message saying the extender couldn't connect to the existing wifi network.
Despite this, I could connect to the extender, and the extender was communicating with the router. But it was a local connection only, nothing going out onto the internet. Which didn't make sense. Tried a few times. From a PC, Mac and the Xbox. No good.
Googled. Found people who were so frustrated they just gave up. Found some quite complicated solutions on the Netgear forums, but nothing that seemed to match my specific problem.
Put it on hold and had another go after Christmas. And got it working! Not sure exactly what the problem was, but I can tell you what I did differently this time around.
- Factory reset. There's a hole for a paperclip in the side. I read on a couple of forums that people got it working after doing a factory reset. Didn't really seem to make sense but I decided to give it a go anyway.
- Did the initial set-up from a PC. I think the first time around, I tried with the Mac. Don't know if this made a difference. But I went through the instructions again and got the fourth light on, which was progress.
- 'Diagnose'. It still wasn't connecting through to the internet. So I went into the network settings thing in Windows and I clicked on the 'diagnose' button. Windows gave me a few options. The first one I tried was something like 'automatically assign an IP address'. I tried this but it didn't work.
- 'Turn off router'. The second thing it suggested was turning the router off for 10 seconds then back on. Again, it's one of those things that I was dubious off, but decided to give it a go.
- After that, I tried the 'assign IP address' thing again, and it worked.
After getting it up and running, it works on the Mac, PC and Xbox. It's been working solidly for a few days now, although I have to admit I haven't had the guts to turn off the extender, in case it resets or something. :)
Sunday, September 11, 2011
September 11
When the September 11 attacks happened I was living in the UK. I was at HTML training course that day. The trainer said, 'Okay, now open a browser window and go to the BBC website'. There was a screengrab of the twin towers, smoke billowing out of them. At first it seemed like a sick joke. And then we continued our training. No-one really understood the enormity of it. I don't think anyone could really believe it.
My (now) wife and I were booked to fly to New York the following week. (We ended up going in October. It was the first time I'd ever been scared of flying, and that fear persists to some degree even today. There were US flags in virtually every window. Lower Manhattan stank. I was surprised at how up-beat New Yorkers were -- they were getting on with their lives).
We came home to the share flat we were living in that evening and the TV was on, and those same pieces of vision playing over and over again. The second plane hitting. The towers falling. I still think no-one could believe it.
I was part of an online writing group back then. I'd entered a short story competition and I won. On September 10 I posted in the forum. Topic: 'Has the world gone mad?' The words had a slightly different meaning a day later.
The events of September 11 had a lot of us questioning what we were doing with our writing. People (including myself) wondered whether we should be writing such dark stories, when the world seemed so dark, all of a sudden.
When I told that story when I was on a horror writing panel at Conjure in 2006, someone in the audience said -- I can't remember her exact words, but the gist was that the lives lost in the September 11 attacks paled into insignificance compared with lives lost in the third world (or maybe she was referring specifically to the ensuing wars in Afghanistan and Iraq). And I couldn't answer her. I couldn't articulate what it was about September 11 that made it different to all that other death and suffering.
Over the past could of weeks I've been working on the ABC's '9/11 Remembered' coverage. And I think that this is the first time I've really reflected on the events of September 11.
The thing that really gets me is 'Day before the storm: photos from September 10, 2001'. The photo I've used above, by Mike Horan, is a perfect example. On September 10, 2001, people were just going about their lives. Mike, like probably thousands of people that day, posed for a photo in front of the twin towers.
"...the date has the appearance of a timer counting down the dying moments of an old world since replaced by the tense and paranoid world we live in today"
Who would have thought that those towers would be gone less than 24 hours later? There's so much melancholy in those photos. They raise the question of 'what if?' over and over again.
That resonates with me because I'm fascinated by stories about the small choices people make, and the impact those choices have on their lives.
The other reason September 11 had such a massive impact because it was carnage on an untold scale, live on TV... and it was spectacular. The second plane hit when cameras were trained on the twin towers due to the first impact.
Anyway, it's been quite a rough seven days, to be honest. I keep thinking about all those people who died. People who just got up to go to work and never came home again. People who were faced with the choice of being burnt to death or jumping out a window. And I also think about the terrorists who carried out the attacks, and what sort of lives they had, that they decided that's what they had to do to make a difference.
I keep seeing the twin towers in my mind. Thinking, 'what it?'.
Monday, September 05, 2011
Tuesday, August 09, 2011
London: recollections from a decade ago
(Photo: Hozinja/Flickr CC BY 2.0)
About 10 years ago my wife and I lived in London for about 18 months. For much of that time we lived in Bow, in the East End. Even back then London in general and the East End in particular seemed in decline/in decay and it there was the general impression that it wouldn't take much to prompt a complete breakdown.
In the middle of winter, we'd often have groups of teenagers huddling in the damp, freezing stairwells of the estate we lived in, and I can remember wondering what sort of home life they must have for this to be preferable. And not just home life. There must've been literally nothing else for them to do.
There was a general feeling of apathy at one end and fear at the other. Any attempts to improve the community were quickly quashed. We lost count of the number of times the glass was smashed out of the phone boxes on the edge of our estate, until they just didn't bother trying to fix it anymore. Someone tried to open a slightly trendy cafe across the road, and within a day someone had smashed the plate glass windows. After it was fixed, the glass was smashed again. The cafe closed down shortly after.
One night, my wife was walking home from the tube. She saw a group of kids (early teens) trying to smash a light in a railway underpass. She asked them to stop doing that. They followed her home, yelling abuse at her and joking that they should rape her.
Whenever I tell people this story, they remark that it wasn't a smart thing to do, telling them to stop. And maybe not, in the context. But maybe if more people stood up to these kids, London wouldn't be where it is now. You should be able to try and maintain order in your community, without fearing for your safety, right? Londoners are relying on the police now, but clearly that's nowhere near enough.
Another time, my wife was on the bus and there was this old woman yelling abuse at a black man. Really nasty stuff. And everyone just sat there, staring down, not wanting to get involved. It took my wife to say something before anyone else would.
Shortly before we came home, one of our flatmates was mugged on the steps, coming up to our flat. They stole her Christmas shopping. She made a complaint to the police. Our flat was egged. A brick went through the window. I don't know what, if anything, happened to the muggers. But whatever it was, it certainly didn't make us feel any safer.
The thing was, we could leave any time we wanted. There was this guy on the next floor up, he was in a housing commission place. He had no choice. He was stuck there.
And I think about those kids, sitting in the stairwell. Trapped there. Nothing to do. No options. Living in a community that's falling apart and that's not going to get any better.
What have they got to lose?
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Eulogy for Mum
Mum was a determined and feisty woman, and she loved a good laugh. She wouldn’t have wanted to see us all moping about. She didn’t want a fuss. Right up until the last she kept a positive frame of mind. So I’m going to try and keep this upbeat.
Mum didn’t have an easy start in life, and I think this is why she tried so hard to make sure us kids didn’t go without when we were growing up. Even though money was often tight, she made clothes for us and for my sister’s Cindy dolls. She also designed tshirts before it was trendy. This may be hard to believe but when I was little I was skinny as a rake. My family nickname was ‘Ironman’ and so Mum made me my very own Ironman tshirt.
Mum had an adventurous streak and she knew what she wanted.
Shortly after Mum and Dad married in 1968, Dad knew this dodgy geezer who used to swap cars all the time. Dad was trying to get rid of his bomb and went to see what Stan had on offer … and ended up bringing a London Taxi home. You know, those black, blocky things? Mum took one look at it and said, ‘I am NOT riding in the back of that thing!’ So Dad had to trot off and find something else.
Another story from those early years. Mum wanted to learn how to ride a motorbike, so she got her provisional licence and Dad rode them out to a quiet country lane so Mum could practice. Mum got on, Dad hopped on behind her, and away they went. They crossed a rise and there was a policeman and, when he saw Mum weaving back and forth across the road, he signalled for her to stop. Unfortunately, Dad hadn’t yet taught Mum how to stop, and frantically trying to explain how to stop the bike as it hurtled down the road. The policeman had to dive out of the way to save himself. Luckily, he had a sense of humour.
Mum actually ended up becoming a driving instructor – for cars, not bikes. Mum told us about this one client who had the disturbing habit of swerving into the path of oncoming traffic for no apparent reason. Eventually, Mum told her, ‘You are never going to get your driver’s licence’. But the woman kept booking lessons.
Motorcycles also ended up playing a big part in Mum’s life. After she met Pete the two of them travelled extensively on Pete’s bike, and later in a campervan and caravan which they renovated together.
I wanted to include some funny stories. They don’t really mean anything on their own but together they give an idea of how Mum was always up for a laugh, even at her own expense.
Her brother Chris told me about this time in the mid-70s when he was around at her place helping look after us kids. Mum was buzzing around the kitchen trying to sort out dinner for us and some food for the dog.
When things had quieted down, everyone was in the lounge room when there was an almighty bang. Mum and Chris rushed into the kitchen to find the room coated in dog food, with the tin embedded in the door.
What had happened was that in her rush to get everything sorted, Mum had left a tin of dog food on the stove, which she’d forgot to turn off!
Sharon recently told me of an incident where Mum put some rice on to cook, came back to the stove a while later to find the rice had disappeared. Mum was freaking out, trying to figure out how rice could just disappear, until she realized that she’d not put rice on to cook. It was sugar!
So Mum had her moments in the kitchen, but I still think her roasts were the best ever.
Mum loved a good laugh.
When Sharon and Mum were working for the Stubbies clothing company, one afternoon they were rushing for the bus. There was a bit of roadworks going on. Sharon jumped over the hole in the ground, her friend jumped over. Mum went to jump over... then realized the skirt she was wearing was a bit tighter than she remembered. Down she went, into the hole. Sharon was laughing hysterically, Mum was too, and the people who came to offer a helping hand must’ve been thinking ‘what are these two on?’.
One time, this was a few years ago now, she was out with Sharon and Hayley, who at the time was wearing a patch over one eye to strengthen the other eye. Mum had bought fairy floss for Hayley and Ben. Ben was at home. Hayley was going: ‘Mum can I take my eye patch off, Mum can I take my eye patch off, Mum can I take my eye patch off’. Sharon said no. Then Hayley handed Sharon something and Sharon, thinking it was fairy floss, put it in her mouth – only to discover it was actually Hayley’s eye patch. Mum laughed so much she wet herself.
On a more serious note, Mum was always there for us. Mum has always had faith in us. In fact, at times Mum has had more faith in me than I’ve had in myself.
Carol remembers when she was little she said she wanted to be a nurse when she grew up - Mum said "No, you want to be a Doctor". She said she wanted to be an air hostess - Mum said "No, you want to be a pilot". Mum believed us kids could do anything, but at the end of the day she just wanted us to be happy.
In recent years Mum really enjoyed her garden at the property at Gin Gin. She was so proud of the fruit and vegetables she grew there and took great pleasure in nurturing her crops.
Before Mum and Pete got the place at Gin Gin, Mum told Sharon: I want a humpy dumpy on a bit of land, with a verandah where I can sit in a rocking chair and shell peas. Pete bought her the rocking chair and the humpy dumpy – for her 60th birthday last year we bought the red colander to shell the peas in. I know that people are going to say that Mum died too young. And, obviously, we all would have liked to have had her around for a few more years. But I think it’s important to remember that Mum really LIVED her life. She didn’t take a back seat and let life wash over her.
We wouldn’t wish for another week or month with Mum as she was. We would wish that she never got sick and she never had to suffer what she did.
I’d like to end with a quote that, I have to admit, I only found because I was searching for quotes. It’s by Grace Hansen, and it goes like this:
“Don't be afraid your life will end; be afraid that it will never begin.”
Thursday, June 09, 2011
Tuesday, May 03, 2011
Monday, May 02, 2011
Friday, April 15, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
Strange days
The view from one of the three new homes of flood-displaced ABC News Online. Yep, it's a soccer club!
Sunday, January 02, 2011
Saturday, January 01, 2011
Long time, no blog
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
Monday, November 08, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Tape lovers mix it up, old-spool
(Image: DG Jones, Flickr - CC-BY-NC)
Colleague Cassie White did this story today, about how while Sony has stopped production on the Walkman, tape-lovers live on.
This is my favourite bit, where Darren Pauli talks about his love of tape:
"I've got a whole series of tapes like this Metallica tape I had back in school that my mates recorded and we used to listen to on the bus," he said.
"I've had it in my car and listened to the same tape that's just kept going for 10, 12 years.
"All the way through it you can hear in various parts when mates I've lent it to have accidentally hit record when listening to it.
"It's got a whole conversation between one of my mates and his brother and it's hilarious.
"Right in the middle of a Metallica guitar solo it cuts to Gatecrasher, this electronic techno stuff, then goes back to it. It's something that's kind of personal with a hint of nostalgia.
"I'll put it on with mates and we'll laugh because it reminds you of the old days."
Got me reminiscing about my own experiences with tape:
- When one of my mates did the Europe thing in the mid-90s, another friend and I made him a tape: Miserable Mother****ers. It consisted of 90 minutes of us speaking shit at coffee shops, going to gigs at The Zoo and other reputable establishments around Brisbane, speaking more shit at more coffee shops, that kinda thing. The idea was to reassure him that he wasn't missing anything. At some point, some excerpts of the tape got put online, but I'm pretty sure they're gone now.
- When I went backpacking in the late 90s, I bought a new Walkman to take with me. I was trying to keep my luggage down so I took one tape with me. 90 minutes of music. 45 minutes of Counting Crows' August and Everything after (sad music) and 45 minutes of Ben Folds Fives' Whatever and Ever Amen (happy music). By the end of six weeks, I still wasn't sick of either side!
- Just after my wife and I first met, she decided to go overseas (no, it wasn't because of me! She'd already booked the tickets). So we had a long-distance relationship for a while, and we used to send each other mixtapes. We've still got them, of course. I never did convert her to Billy Bragg, but she married me anyway!
- I still own tapes of Triple J's retrospective on The Whitlams and Nirvana. I really enjoyed it and I listened to it over and over again. I never listen to tapes anymore, even though we still have a stereo with a tape player on it. But I keep the tapes. Because it's nice knowing they're there. It sounds old-fashioned, but these tapes are true artifacts, in the way a playlist on a hard drive can never be.
- I've still got my Walkman somewhere. One day, I'm going to dig it out and show the kids. I'm sure they'll be amazing, and horrified, and embarrassed!
