The Idler, Thursday, October 30, 2014

AARSE is where it's at

I'M SO sorry I missed the AARSE Conference in Johannesburg a few days ago, addressed by Science 

and Technology Minister Naledi Pandor. It seems to have been fairly important. I quote from the 

government hand-out.

"Science and Technology Minister Naledi Pandor will address the opening

session of the 10th African Association of Remote Sensing of the

Environment (AARSE) Conference 2014 at the University of Johannesburg ...

"AARSE is a participating organisation in the Group on Earth Observation

(GEO); an institutional member of the Global Spatial Data Infrastructure

(GSDI) Association and the international Year of Planet Earth (IYPE). In

order to realise its objectives, AARSE holds conferences in different

African countries every two years.

"The theme of this year's 10th AARSE conference is 'Space Technologies for

Societal Benefits in Africa'. The theme complements the National Space

Strategy goal of leveraging the benefits of space science and technology

for socio-economic growth and sustainable development.

"Hosting the AARSE 2014 Conference in South Africa affords the South African

National Space Agency (SANSA) an opportunity to increase awareness of the

use of Earth observation for decision making processes. it further provides

an opportunity for South Africa to contribute to an Africa dialogue on the

use of Earth observation, building African capacity in science and

technology and promoting continental integration.

"To this end, AARSE 2014 will provide a platform for both South African and continental Earth

observation scholars and practitioners ..."

So there we have it. AARSE is where it's at. All these contractions – AARSE, GEO, GSDI, SANSA and 

IYPE.

It's a bit like those rugby songs late at night: "Singin' IY, IY IYPE IYPE, IYPE IY ..." Or: "GEO lele 

mama ..."

I hope the conference was a resounding success.

Dark places

THEY'RE cracking down on hanky-panky at the University of Zimbabwe. It's a serious place for serious 

pursuits, what with President Bob doubling as Chancellor Bob and president's wife Grace Mugabe 

breaking all records in notching up a PhD (sociology) in a three-month burst of study.

The campus is no place for kissing, "sex in public places" – as the new circulars put it – or "loitering in 

dark places" with the opposite sex.

It's rather like Potch in the old days. There was a strict rule against making love to your girlfriend on a 

Sunday with the radio playing, because it could be construed as dancing.

Tortoise

READER Herman van Wijk, of Maritzburg, corrects me about the name of the Victoria Club tortoise. It 

wasn't Orlando, it was Dorando, he says, named after a waiter who was only marginally faster than him.

He's correct about the name, I now recall, but I'm sure he's pulling our leg about the waiter. In 1908 

Dorando Pietri was first through the finishing tape in the marathon at the Olympics, but was disqualified 

because umpires had assisted him when he collapsed before he got there.

"Dorando was not taken to his new home as he would probably have been soup, made in his own shell, 

by now. One day we may be able to make a facility that is safe for him, when he will no doubt come 

home."

Where have they put him in the meanwhile?

Herman also points out that the Victoria Club has amalgamated with the Country Club. It's now the 

Victoria Country Club and the Union Jack is no longer flown.

Horrors! It was there last time I looked. No wonder the Empire's gone to pot.

Tailpiece

A teacher asks the kids in her class: "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Little Kevin: "I wanna start out as a marine pilot then be a billionaire, go to the most expensive 

clubs, find me the finest hooker, give her a Ferrari worth over a million bucks, an apartment in 

Copacabana, a mansion in Paris, a jet to travel through Europe, an Infinite Visa card, and all the 

while rattling her rigging like a sailboat in a hurricane."

 The teacher is appalled by this response and decides to ignore it. "And how about you, Susan?" .

 "I wanna be Kevin1s hooker."

Last word

Well, the telling of jokes is an art of its own, and it always rises from some 

emotional threat. The best jokes are dangerous, and dangerous because they 

are in some way truthful. 

Kurt Vonnegut