Tuesday, December 24, 2013


Rectifications (30)…CONSIDER FOLLOWING VEHICLES
Torrey Orton
Dec. 24, 2013

On the road again…slow vehicles

“CONSIDER FOLLOWING VEHICLES” the bright black on blue sign says along the Great Ocean Road. Then another sign says (in stark black on white) “SLOW VEHICLE TURNOUT” about 300 metres down the road, another few metres beyond which is the turnout. Having taken it or not, you are then greeted with SLOW VEHICLES THANK YOU in the black on blue idiom of the initial challenge. If you are a native born Ozzie, you know what a turnout is, but no amount of nativity will gloss the other two messages, even given the contextual background birth has given you. This is bureaucratic English of a high order, aggravated by the fact that the actual targets are non-native English speakers – tourists who rock up and down the famous Road, presumed to be without our inbuilt (though increasingly corrupted) regard for civility on the road.

On first encounter a couple of years ago, it took me a while to work out the syntax of CONSIDER FOLLOWING VEHICLES. ‘Consider’ cut a few ways at once, none of which easily self-selected out of the sign. Should I care for those vehicles if they are following me or notice more clearly that I was following them or should I be following them? The more I worried this linguistic bone the more the initial confusions returned. The attention to the possibilities lifts them all off the solid ground of shared realities which give easy meaning to most of life. The formulations take on their own life, unanchored, floating into a mildly paranoid verbal ether. Even my wife who is no mean linguist and a native Australian English speaking one to boot couldn’t provide definitive help with these options.

A XXL slow offense without intent

In the course of 9 days at the beach I traversed a handful of these linguistic suites a day, barely noticing their offer of driverly civic-mindedness. They were only brought sharply back into my awareness by a new set of them appearing on one of the inland approaches to the coast road. And then my awareness was tightened another notch by having the desired behaviour (in both my mind, and the presumptive sign writers I guess) demonstrated by a slow vehicle (a size XXL self-propelled accommodation variety vehicle) which appeared in front of me along one curvy stretch between Eastern View and Lorne.

Said XXL suddenly pulled off into an unmarked turnout (on other days it would just be a wide shoulder), no indicator of intent given. I was pleased for the release and irritated by the surprise move which required a bit of preventive braking on my part. Wife Jane thought I should have offered an acknowledging toot in passing, as one offers an acknowledging wave to someone coming who makes way for one on a single lane street. I thought not because no indication of intent had been given, implying to me that the turnout was gratuitous and not considered. It was a moment of that low grade moral conflict which makes marriage memorable for the often equal spread of justice between both our perspectives.

Another what’s normal now challenge?

As often, a linguistic detour turns into a challenge for action. For example, I haven’t even gotten to the question of what “slow” means. The practical implications of this potential for differentiation will be apparent to anyone living in a family situation, not to say the “loving family” of death notices and similarly human newsworthinesses! Who would self-identify as “slow” to start with? Then, what’s “slow” to them if they do, or are badgered into doing so by caring others? And, then, what’s their slow got to do with the “SLOW” on the instructional sign set? This is, perhaps, why instruction leading to discretionary, self-designed performance outcomes often induces indulgences…

…and a very merry Xmas to y’all.

Thursday, December 5, 2013


Relativities (1)…following a path you can’t see
Torrey Orton
December 5, 2013

When looking where you are going is misleading

Telling direction by sun reckoning

We were out bushwalking a known path which became more and more uncertain as we ambled along uphill within decreasing earshot of the lightly gurgling rapids of Olinda Falls. The path had been much clearer two years ago when we walked into an ant colony territorial scouting party thereabouts in spring. I was sure we were on the right one (mapped in the walk book we were carrying), but Jane was not. And I understood her doubt. Many parts of our passage were unrecognisably the passage of before.

What grounded my certainty this time was direction. I knew from the previous walks, and the map, that we had to be heading north-westerly and we were. The sun told me we were actually doing so. It was assisted by the fading stream gurgles to our right and down 50 meters or so, which positioned the map in the place we actually were walking.

The sun has noticeably more consistency in its shifting daily passages than the flora on a bush trail year to year. This consistency does a reasonable job of being the truth for that setting. That is we can safely proceed with life as if it were true, and behaviourally we treat it as really true – that is, we act on it. For this practical purpose it is and was certainly true. Sure that certainty is only as good as this walk, though generally within our life spans the broad contours of maps do not change too much, climate catastrophes so far notwithstanding.  The sun is even more likely to endure for our reconnoitring purposes.

Plato’s cave

Plato probably knew about this level of certainty, but demanded, as philosophers do, something a little more reliable, more certain, more definite and picked up on the idea that an idea has a longer life than any particular sunray…though not than the sun, perhaps.

Those who have only lived in either the northern or southern hemisphere believe that the sun always runs in the same part of the sky characteristic of northern and southern exposures. They have to be told vigorously to check their natural directional guessing when changing hemisphere…somewhat as right side drivers have to be told vigorously to check their natural look to the left before crossing a road, and vice-versa for left siders. Of course, the sun is running in the same place, it’s only our perspective that makes it not look so.