As I said on Twitter yesterday, there can surely be no greater honour than having a Category 5 hurricane named after you. Thank you, members of the Academy, and I hope that Hurricane Rick blows itself out before coming ashore.

Yesterday was the 41st anniversary of the final of the men's 200 metres in the track and field competition at the Mexico City Olympic Games. The result - gold Tommie Smith, silver Peter Norman, bronze John Carlos - is less memorable than the powerful political protest made on the medal dais afterwards.

(This item is my entry for Blog Action Day October 15, 2009. It has also been posted to Earthwitness.)

There are times when it is really frustrating to be an Australian. We're in a great position to be a world leader in renewable energy production. Our politicians think so too... but only after they change the definition of "renewables".

We're too reluctant to sell five-day cricket to a world which meanwhile cheerfully embraces four-day golf. Please explain.

Something very noticeable about local television when I was in Newcastle for a few days last week were the frequent ads featuring a chappie from the Central Highlands Regional Council speaking on behalf of the Australian Coal Commission and promoting its Orwellian "cut emissions not jobs" website. With the Newcastle viewing area being host to a number of collieries, this was clearly one of the areas that the ACC was targeting with an intense advertising campaign.

"An ongoing program of citywide investment will continue to result in further improvements, in areas such as security and transport. The long-term physical transformation of the city will be fully integrated with initiatives to deliver social inclusion, with new homes, training and jobs; to engage young people and promote education; and to invest in sport. [...]

In 1987 Midnight Oil released one of the greatest songs about Australia ever recorded. A song forever associated, through its chorus, with the campaign for indigenous land rights, the official music video a work of art in itself which is, frame by frame, etched into my brain and that of many other Australians of grandchild-bearing age.

Of the four final candidate cities to host the 2016 Olympic Games, I believe the best choice won. Congratulations to the people behind the Rio 2016 bid.

I have serious problems in offering commiserations to the Chicago/USA camp, for all the effort put in. More analysis from me to come, but if you want eight minutes of comedy, watch this discussion from the CNBC Power Lunch crew as news broke that Chicago was the first city eliminated from voting:

Later today the host city for the 2016 Olympic Games will be announced. On the principle of "You've had a go now it's our turn", the winner should be Rio de Janeiro. It's not that simple, of course.

Of the four candidate cities, the first to be eliminated under the YHAGNIOT Principle would be Madrid. The Games are set for Western Europe in 2012 (London), and were last held in Spain in 1992 (Barcelona) - unless you dismiss the latter as a selfish act of Samaranch parochialism.

A quick postscript on yesterday's massive dust storm across eastern Australia (and a preview for the next one). Two photos of the Mungo Scott flour mill at Summer Hill, one that I took from the platform at Lewisham station on a bright sunny day a few weeks back, the other taken from the same spot yesterday morning.