Retroid Raving

Devotees of this blog - yes, Transplant_Ed, I see you lurking there - will remember me diffidently proposing a solution to the Jammed Shuttle^TM / pedestrian / traffic problem at the north end of University Avenue (shortly to be renamed OU^TM Boulevard).

It was very simple: I proposed a traffic circle there, with a bus depot within the adjacent student parking area.

I did, in fact, receive feedback: an OU^TM luminary emailed me to say that they believed something of that sort was in fact in the works.  So, I vowed not to squich students against the Jammed Shuttles^TM as they squeezed between traffic and buses; I gritted my teeth, and promised not to face down shuttles swinging wide around the bend leading up to the west (I have more steel on the front of my car than they do)...because things would all get better.  Wouldn't they??

They have not.  Lo, the OU^TM machinery has laboured, and brought forth...a new bus shelter.  A slightly widened pull-off lane for the buses.  A marginally improved organisation of the curb around the offending bend.  No traffic circle.  No new bus depot.  Still the poor buses in blue have to swing left, swing hard right, and fight traffic to get back down the hill.  Still the students flock like lemmings across the road, heedless of the designated crossing, or of traffic, to catch imminently departing buses.

When they could have had a circle....  For that matter another traffic circle opposite the entrance to the Sports Centre parking lots would also be a good idea!

But on present experience, not one that will occur to OU^TM.  Ah, well.  I shall do a Marty Feldman*, and start to stencil pedestrians and shuttles onto the side of my Kombi as I contact them, as I undoubtedly shall.

* Google him.  Made the Pythons look like a school variety show.

Reluctantly back from vacation - and a quick business trip to a freezing UK - Retroid is pleased to see Cassandra continues as she left off in 2008.  Viva! person who is not believed, viva!  Keep up with the Monday cats and dogs; my daughter is a fan.  And Transplant_Ed: more Fridays, please!

And otherwise, it's back to same digestive leavings, different year...I had vowed to be positive this year, but 40 minutes in the HoD's office listening to the catalogue of woes that has accumulated in lo! just these last two weeks, was...depressing.

So let's be positive: it's still summer, there are no undergraduates here - and the way the trees bend outside means the southeaster is pumping, it's time to bring the sailboard in to work again like I used to...hah!  You thought I meant about work, didn't you??

Fat chance: the climate survey last year showed the outlook to be grey; I see no change on the horizon.  I shall get my joy from inside my own group, and - outside.

Have a good 2009, all!

Retroid Raver wishes all who inhabit the UCT Blogosphere a peaceful and happy if not particularly prosperous -

1. Saturnalia
2. Solstice festival
3. Xmas
4. Break

All / one / none of the above, as appropriate.

We've earned one...or I feel I have, at any rate.  And the Grolsch to go with it...B-)  So from me and mine, to you and yours: enjoy.

It is inexpressibly sad to see the place where I did so important a part of my growing up, collapse into chaos, starvation and despair.

For no other reason than the geriatrics and kleptocrats who hung onto power, don't dare let go.

For Zimbabwe, then: a song from my growing up.  Chicago....

Lowdown

Oh my
Life has passed me by
The country I was brought up in
Fell apart and died
Oh no
Love's no longer there
Cold wind blew away the sun
That used to warm the air
Lowdown
Ooo! Feelin' pretty bad
Feelin' like I lost the best friend
That I ever had
Lowdown
Ooo! Got to find a way
Got to make the people see
The way I feel today

Words: Peter Cetera - Daniel Seraphine

While Retroid has been aware for some time that there were rumblings from the bowels of the Beast Down the Hill, it appears as though these have broken out into the public domain well and truly.

From IOL today:

Deputy registrar on carpet, UCT confirms

By Natasha Joseph

The University of Cape Town (UCT) has finally acknowledged its deputy registrar, Paul Ngobeni, is the subject of an internal disciplinary hearing.

But the institution says it will not disclose what charges Ngobeni faces, nor the composition of the disciplinary committee because it does not want to conduct its internal processes "in the public domain".

Ngobeni, UCT's deputy registrar responsible for legal services and secretariat, first attracted attention when he wrote an opinion piece for the Cape Times in October last year in which he said "calls by some lawyers and academics for the removal of Judge President John Hlophe (were) intended as a threat to the very notion of judicial independence these lawyers pay lip service to".It later emerged that Ngobeni, a lawyer, had been found guilty in the United States of misconduct and barred from practising in three states.

Earlier this year, the Mail and Guardian reported that Ngobeni was the subject of an internal disciplinary hearing at UCT - a process that Ngobeni claimed was related to his public statements in support of Hlophe.

At the time, UCT refused to confirm that Ngobeni had been called to face a disciplinary hearing. But it has now acknowledged this was so.

"The hearing has not been concluded, but we are hopeful it will be soon. UCT is committed, even at the end of the disciplinary process, to maintaining Mr Ngobeni's right to have this matter regarded as private," UCT said in a statement.

It would not be drawn on the details of the hearing.

"The university respects staff members' rights to dignity and privacy and does not intend conducting processes, guided by its staff disciplinary procedure, in the public domain."

natasha.joseph@inl.co.za

Curiouser and curiouser...after saying nothing for months, when the only news coming out of it were the various broadsides from Obi-Wan, supporting Showerhead Man and an injustice, the mountain finally stirs - and brings forth a mouse.  Not even the charges are public??  Ah, well....

 The saga continues.

I wrote a partly whimsical, partly bitter essay with this title in 2001 for the SA Journal of Science, following a less-then-inspiring grant from the National Research Foundation (NRF), following their most recent reorganisation.  They  declined to publish it, incidentally, seeing as they were then run by the NRF....

I found it interesting to revisit it this week, given that they have just had another paroxysmic organisational reset which will probably result in much the same thing happening all over again.  An edited version:

"Since 1984 I have been a loyal and dependent client of what was the Foundation for Research Development (FRD), and is now the National Research Foundation (NRF).  This semi-autonomous body is South Africa's premier science funding organisation, especially when one considers "blue sky" or non-applied research.  I have worked my way up in the scale of grants from merely promising, to relatively accomplished, to accomplished researcher: this has been quite a slog, involving as it has a great deal of research, reporting on research, applying for research monies, supervising students, writing research papers, and helping the FRD and then the NRF in peer review of projects and of people.  Indeed, with the amount of paperwork the FRD/NRF has generated for us, my colleagues and I have sometimes jokingly wondered whether they worked for us, or we for them: certainly, we seem to have spent an inordinate amount of time, especially in recent years, in wrestling with recalcitrant Web-based forms which change yearly, with reporting requirements which do the same, and with deadlines which are suddenly imposed close to term, and without warning.

We have coped with all of this with (fairly) good grace, most of us, given that the body is often our main provider, and we are (mostly) committed to seeing what seemed to be a good vision, work for us and for the country.

Here, the newly-minted NRF - formed from the not-yet-old FRD and the Centre for Science Development of the Human Sciences Research Council - suddenly asked us to reapply for research monies in a one-off process, despite the fact that many of us were supposedly on funding programmes that extended beyond the end of 2000.  This was to be done in order to bridge the transition to the new order, and - I suspect - to give a shakedown cruise to the new and rather contentious "Focus Areas" [see below] which had replaced the previous programmes/themes.  And so we grumbled, but we obliged, and filled in yet another new Web-based form, which - surprisingly enough - was actually almost user-friendly.  It also - surprise, surprise! - had enough space for even quite lengthy descriptions of projects (unlike previous versions, which arbitrarily cut one off in mid-justification).  So we filled it all in, and sat back, expectantly.

In pleasurable anticipation, in my case: after all, I had been quite productive, in terms of producing students and papers, and enhancing both mine and South Africa's image in my discipline.  Granted, I had not attracted any "black" South Africans to my projects, and this was a negative in terms of "corrective action": however, without actively going out and kidnapping people, I could see no other way of coercing folk with excellent employment prospects into what is a pretty dead-end field in terms of personal financial advancement.  Granted, I did not have strong ties to an HDI - hitherto-disadvantaged institution, which is an interesting acronym for places created to further apartheid's grand schemes, and which on the whole, were rather well funded until recently.  However, I did have excellent ties with SADC research folk, and in fact had postgraduate students from Kenya, Zimbabwe and Malawi, and had fostered exchanges with researchers from Kenya and students from the Netherlands.  I had also, over the previous 8 years, done rather well in terms of FRD/NRF funding: never less than three PhD studentships, and fairly generous running monies.  I had also been publishing very well, and was in fact peaking in terms of production of students and publications from my favourite research area: I had had 8 papers and 4 chapters in 3 years, had produced 3 MSc and 3 PhDs in 5 years, and had another 4 PhDs finishing in the period 2000 - 2001.  So, complacency ruled….

It was with a severe jolt, therefore, that I read the "Total for 2001" line in my award letter a few weeks ago.  "It's a misprint", I thought.  "They've left a zero off", I prayed.  "They'd never cut me by 80%, would they?" I said, tremblingly, into the hushed quiet of my office.

No, no, and yes, as it turned out.  No, they had not given me the equipment I asked for.  No, they had not given me enough bursary money to support even the one PhD I had on the project who was eligible for funding, let alone the one I wanted to attract.  Yes, they had given only enough running money to support one student for a third of a year, instead of the minimum I needed, of enough for a year for two.

I left an incoherent message on someone's voicemail at the NRF.  I leapt to my trusty friend, my Netscape Messenger, and raced off indignant letters into the ether.  I phoned colleagues in Pretoria, in Stellenbosch, I talked to people down the corridor.

An interesting picture emerged, over several days, and from all over the country.  People who I consider to be leaders in their fields have had their research awards slashed; people who I know to be good researchers have received no money at all.  Other people, on the other hand, have had no complaints: however, the overall picture seems to be of bewildered researchers wondering what they had done wrong, and high-up people in University Faculties scrambling to demand explanations of the NRF."

Interesting times, back there in 2001....  I survived, incidentally, by switching fields and funding bodies: I shifted my focus to mainly medical-related applied research, and discovered - as many had before me - that you could get a lot more money by so doing.  I even abandoned the NRF as a source of funding for a while, given that they seemed to not be very interested in Virology.

Now the observant among you will have noted the highlighted (OK, bolded then...B-) "Focus Areas" above: the NRF basically turned South African science funding on its head to institute a bold new system...which they have now abandoned.  Yes, the all-things-to-all-researchers reinvented NRF has just now released a "NRF Vision 2015" statement, accompanied by the news that Focus Areas are being phased out.  Just what they are planning to replace them with is outlined here - which apparently encompasses seven broad fields:

Broad Investment Areas % of budget

• Established researchers    18%
• Human Capital Development and unrated researchers     23%
• Strategic Knowledge Fields     23%
• Strategic Platforms (Including research at the National Research Facilities)     11%
• International Initiatives     11%
• Applied & Industrial Research & Innovation     14% 
• Community Engagement Research     0.2%

TOTAL 100%

This all sounds quite reasonable...until one realises a few things.  Which are, that the NRF is simultaneously trying to fund all of this AND phase out Focus Areas AND the SARChi Chairs.

All of which means they will run horribly short of money to fund ANYTHING new in the next couple of years, unless Cabinet approves more budget or they dump something.

Buckle up, comrades: if you depend on the NRF for funding, and if you are currently being re-rated or initiating a new project or two...there could be lean times ahead.  Wither/whither indeed - my money's on (or in) the latter.

Ed Rybicki

MCB, UCT

...or as they would be if it were.

If you see what I mean.

In the Weekly Mail Mail & Guardian yesterday: a full page ad asking the following:

"What do 5 Nobel Laureates and the first South African in space have in common?

They all studied at UCT.

Any questions??"

It goes on about worldwide reputations, repeats a claim that we are the only University in Africa ranked in the top 200 worldwide, says

"When you're looking for the one university most qualified to help you unlock your full potential, there is simply no question where to go.

UCT. Changing minds.  Changing futures."

Putting you first...sorry, they don't do say that; that was Nashua.

Yes.  Um.  5 Nobel Laureates??  I thought we went through this a while ago- and UCT can lay claim to three, I believe.  Allan Cormack, Aaron Klug, that guy from the English Department...and who else?  I can only think of another 6 Seffrican Nobellists, and they are D Tutu, FW de Klerk, NH Mandela, A Luthuli, N Gordimer and M Theiler - none of whom are associated with OU^TM UCT as far as I know.  Oh, I suppose we could try for D Lessing, but why would we want her, and in any case, Zim has a better claim.

But this is branding, people - OU^TM is alive and well, and recruiting more cannon fodder for the acadmic mill.

Now, if only the extra would go to salaries - and not into non-pensionable increments - I could be persuaded to give a whatsit.  As it is - what the hell, we're not in danger of producing any more Nobellists, so let them get away with a little hyperbole.

Unless I'm wrong, of course.

I knew I meant to say something about Obama's win on Nov 4th, given that we got so caught up in it - but found that someone else before me had already said it, so much better.  I give you my wife's favourite artist, that noted hagiographer (yes, he really did write biographies of Canadian saints (yes, there are several)), rake and magnificently depressed poet and singer, L. Cohen Esq.

"Democracy"

It's coming through a hole in the air,
from those nights in Tiananmen Square.
It's coming from the feel
that this ain't exactly real,
or it's real, but it ain't exactly there.
From the wars against disorder,
from the sirens night and day,
from the fires of the homeless,
from the ashes of the gay:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

It's coming through a crack in the wall;
on a visionary flood of alcohol;
from the staggering account
of the Sermon on the Mount
which I don't pretend to understand at all.
It's coming from the silence
on the dock of the bay,
from the brave, the bold, the battered
heart of Chevrolet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

It's coming from the sorrow in the street,
the holy places where the races meet;
from the homicidal bitchin'
that goes down in every kitchen
to determine who will serve and who will eat.
From the wells of disappointment
where the women kneel to pray
for the grace of God in the desert here
and the desert far away:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

Sail on, sail on
O mighty Ship of State!
To the Shores of Need
Past the Reefs of Greed
Through the Squalls of Hate
Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on.

It's coming to America first,
the cradle of the best and of the worst.
It's here they got the range
and the machinery for change
and it's here they got the spiritual thirst.
It's here the family's broken
and it's here the lonely say
that the heart has got to open
in a fundamental way:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

It's coming from the women and the men.
O baby, we'll be making love again.
We'll be going down so deep
the river's going to weep,
and the mountain's going to shout Amen!
It's coming like the tidal flood
beneath the lunar sway,
imperial, mysterious,
in amorous array:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

Sail on, sail on ...

I'm sentimental, if you know what I mean
I love the country but I can't stand the scene.
And I'm neither left or right
I'm just staying home tonight,
getting lost in that hopeless little screen.
But I'm stubborn as those garbage bags
that Time cannot decay,
I'm junk but I'm still holding up
this little wild bouquet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.


[ www.azlyrics.com ]

...that Sarah Palin answered the door in what has variously been described as a towel, or a bathrobe, to John McCain's staffers recently?

And Barack means "Blessed One"?

And that this is the first time in history when two men of Luo parentage, with surnames beginning with "O" (like most Luos) will be leading different countries?  (Hint: Odinga is the other one).

Or that putting the Figure one uses in a comprehension exam up on the Web, well in advance, with discussion, still does not guarantee that the class examined on it knows anything about it - despite being told it was examinable?

Yes, Transplant_Ed, I am wasting time again...less prevarication!!  More marking!!!

You know, I can remember it almost as if it were yesterday: bright sun, dust, thronging crowds, Mkishi dancers scaring even the well-dressed sophisticates; a military tattoo, fireworks - and the Union Flag coming down slowly, as the new flag went up in the Independence Stadium.  October 24th, 1964: birth of a new country.  A bright new, eager and idealistic government, determined to make the most of a country that had been kept back at the expense of its southern neighbour.

And then growing up there: memories of big trees, sudden summer rain, endless bicycle adventures; playing marbles, wandering in the bush...surrounded by poor but friendly and apparently happy people, leaving doors unlocked....  Having a new currency, where 100 little brightnesses ("ngwee") made up one dawn ("kwacha").

And huddling together outside school on November 11th 1965, wondering exactly what the "unilateral declaration of independence" from Salisbury meant.  Watching as security became ever tighter; people were deported for no obvious reason; teachers and fellow students and their whole families disappeared literally overnight.  Going to secondary school, and singing the national Anthem every day under a fluttering flag; standing up for it every time one went to movies.

Discovering it would be a good idea to continue one's education outside the country; watching as both Rhodesia and Zambia slid down the slope towards increasing insecurity and unrest and unease.

Staying attached, though: marrying someone from near where I grew up; living and working there in vacs, maintaining the passport, with great difficulty.

Eventually losing the links to the homeland: divorce and emigration do these things to one.  Watching, watching as home slid further and further down into economic ruin; as the currency became a joke (what's the sound the Rand makes as it hits bottom?  "Kwacha"!!).

Then finally, after increasing hassles at airports, giving up citizenship: having the Zambian consul-general in Pretoria tell me that all passports were being withdrawn "because too many Nigerians are buying them".  Becoming, at long last, a South African.

But getting excited recently to see a Zamsoc booth on Jammie Steps: seen from afar because of the so-familiar flag (like our noble eagle in its flight...).

And still remembering every word of the national Anthem...for a long while I used to sing it down the phone to my only other Zambian friend in Cape Town; I even taught it to my children.  Now I use higher technology: check this link out.

I have visited Zambia only twice since 1983: once on Ushepia business about eight years ago, and again for 50th birthday reasons in 2005.  And what it showed me was - the past is really another country; you don't want to try and go back there.  And modern Zambia was a great place to visit, but I'm too used to Cape Town to want to live there again.

And October 24th has rolled around, and past, again - and Zambia is middle-aged at 44 years old, just 9 years younger than me.

Happy birthday.  Happy birthday, Zambia.  I hope to see many more.

Ed Rybicki

Anyone ever noticed just how awesome an album Fleetwood Mac's "Rumours" is?  Listening to them just the other evening brought back a rush of memories, including driving down the Icefields Parkway between Jasper and Banff, Alberta, four years ago, "You can go your own way" hammering out....  What a good a unit they were!

Have you heard all of the background mutterings on "Dark Side of the Moon"?  I obsessively played and replayed the 30th Anniversary reissue version the other day, until I got them all.  "I know I'm mad, I've always been mad..."  "Just a short, sharp shock...".  "I am not frightened of dying...any time will do...".

Yes, folks, it is THAT time of year again: when you find yourself doing such as the above, or finding great interest in your daughter's favourite kid soapie, or watching your son play "Halflife 2".

Rather than MARK.... 

Mark undergraduate scripts.  Honours comprehensions.  Third-year practical course write-ups.

Damn, there I go again...watching a YouTube cartoon short of a New Zealand-accented whale beaching itself.

Rather than MARK...!!!!

You know, people are stupid - and it appears as though undergraduate students are exceptional examples.

Retroid speaks, of course, only in the context of crossing roads in this instance - although he is sure he could come up with a number of other categories if pressed.

Those of us who have occasion to make the regular trip from the Upper to the Health Sciences Campus and back in the course of daily business will have noticed - oh, how we have noticed! - how the closure of the M3 Hospital/N2 offramp has drastically lengthened the trip, as well as having led to altered traffic patterns on Main Road.  The University's closing of the road in front of the Pink Towers has only exacerbated the congestion on main Road, such that trying to get to or from Upper Campus via that route any time close to rush hour is almost impossible, at least, impossible within a 45 minute window.

What I have had much opportunity to notice in addition in recent months is the lemming-like tendency of students - for one presumes this is what they are - to cross busy roads en masse, without looking, trusting that oncoming vehicles will (a) notice them, (b) stop.

A few days ago on Main Road I saw a flock (gaggle? horde? infestation?) of young people waiting to cross towards Varsity, standing in the left hand lane (going south), well away from the light-controlled pedestrian crossing further down, apparently oblivious of a Golden Arrow bus bearing down on them at high speed.  I assume they were not mown down; there was no blood there the following day.

Today, on my way to FHS, I had occasion to brake for a student running across Ring Road to catch a bus.  In Observatory, I braked again to avoid a woman carrying a baby, hurrying across a light-controlled intersection (with the light in my favour) to catch up with her friend.  Proving civilians can be just as stupid as students sometimes.  Once on FHS campus, I stopped at a crossing to allow a (ganglion? paroxysm?) of HS students to cross - only to have them wander, along the road in front of me, vaguely towards the Anatomy Block.  I drove firmly through with hand on hooter.

Strange...the brain goes into neutral when you are with friends, and when on or near campus.

Retroid has been fondly collecting the sayings of his children throughout their lives: you know, the cute-yet-incredibly-true things the little people say every now and then?  They've been getting rarer as the children get bigger - sadly - but today was a classic.

In explanation, it must be admitted that the retroidal offspring have deliberately been brought up religion-free - partly because Retroid had too much of religious schools (Dominican nuns, Irish Jesuits, Benedictine monks, Franciscan friars, and just to round it off, a final dose of English Jesuits), and partly because we're just too slack.

So it was especially delightful when the retroidal daughter said to me a short while ago: "They talk about the Lamb of God, or eating God's Lamb, or something like that: does that mean God's a sheep...??"

Priceless.

As devotees of this column and of the UCT Blogs in general will be aware, Retroid hates "Gaudeamus".

Really hates "Gaudeamus"....

So, in the interests of livening up graduations this year, he offers you an alternate version: gathered from these very blogs, new words to sing along with the old.

 Come, let us add to the transformation efforts at OU^TM - help Retroid finish this song!

 "Gaudeamus":

Gaudeamus, igitur
What the words are, I don't care
And it bravely fills the air
As we teachers climb the stair
Going on and on and o-on
On and on and on and on
I-incomprehensibly
I-incomprehensibly

Then it starts another verse
Cheer up, things could get much worse
They could play "Die Stem" instead
Like when we grad-u-a-ted
When we all sat down in protest
Waiting for someone to notice
Our noble gesture
Our noble gesture...

And another voice is heard
To provide another verse
Of the the song that never ends
Sung in Anglicised Latin
See, it just keeps on and o-on
On and on, and on and on
Scanning but not rhy-y-ming
Scanning but not rhyming...

Gauteng outjies, waar is jy
Jy moet jou vuvuzelae kry....