Path of Most Resistance

and now for something completely different...

2008-05-25T18:34:00.002+10:00

it's actually that i'm too happy and busy and rushed and full of heart to write much here.

how about we shorthand it?

leave bill henson alone, for fucks etc.

omg democratic nomination race, hillary wishes she knew how to quit you etc.

'gone baby gone' may be the most profound statement about class that american cinema never even noticed. ben affleck - who knew? etc.

"alcopops" are rooning the yoof - this big-state, pro-tax, social libertarian is torn. but mostly disgusted at the howardesque pushing of the moral panic button etc.

the turnbull/nelson pantomime is rather amusing etc. [LOOK BEHIND YOU!]

but really, we'll talk more soon...x

[lost] pictures of you

2008-04-26T12:24:00.003+10:00

i left my phone on the tram a few weeks ago. within minutes, it was disconnected, presumably stolen for personal use, as it wouldn't have been worth much to anyone. it was valuable to me though, not because it held numbers or performed certain functions, but because it had hundreds of photos on it that i dearly loved.

so i've decided to memorialise them here, to paint you a picture that you'll never see but also so i don't forget the feelings they gave me.

there were magical pictures of madge and mskp's excellent adventure up the west coast of australia. several of us drinking wine from crystal glasses on the beach at cervantes, right before a couple of dolphins appeared at the water's edge. still others of us at the pub after eating some spectacular surf and turf and sharing a bottle of fine champagne. overlooking the water of course. another waterfront marvel was the oysters at the fremantle docks, under the little huts in a glass beer garden. we had pictures of that too. my favourite though, was a picture of mads in her shiny new dress, laughing it up at the scotto - in her element, surrounded by friends, and love and hilarity, and i was there.

i had alot of pictures of me and toby, which i treasured. it would be too easy for me to remember only the terrible end but i don't. i try very hard to remember the excitement and love and joy, and i looked at those pictures often. they were so intimate, lounging around with frank, sharing food, wrapped up in the warmth of unfashionable house clothes and blankets and each other. so many happy moments captured at arm's length. there was good, and that's how i made peace with myself. i know the truth about love [that it exists and is real and can then be gone].

i lost all my documentary coverage of my favourite graffiti and stencil art. brunswick was such a hotspot for this, and i photographed a lot of anti-howard ephemera, with a view to publishing it here one day. i also had shots of some fantastic graffiti responses to the nt intervention, that were both incendiary and eloquent. a few other little gems too, that can't be recaptured - a tree branch casting a long shadow as it protruded through the fence pickets, a nonna putting flowers in her hat after pinching them from someone's garden.

my lady day, at ray, years ago now. it was one of those photos that just lined up perfectly and showed something of its subject that largely remains hidden. i was proud of taking it, and i love that woman so. it was one of the first pictures i ever took that i thought was not only special to me, but actually good.

frank. some wonderfully amusing and awww-inducing photos of frank, sitting in a pot of dirt, wearing all manner of comedic accessories, a particularly successful round of stuff on my dog. good times, good times...luckily he's still around, tickling the proverbial funny bone, ready for his close-up.

and finally, my two-headed gay husband on the day i got the keys to my new house. it was during a time of such relentless despair, that the little victory of securing a home was enough to send us all a bit silly. i was joyous at all my hard work and hopes paying off, and they were right there with me, all the way. that day was a burst of sunshine in an otherwise dark time. i lost a picture of them, sun-kissed and singleted, squeezed together on the windowsill, swinging their legs, smiling like fools. god, i loved that picture.

so there you have it. obviously, the sensible among us will take this as a timely reminder to download, save and backup precious photographs. the rest of us might remember an image that means the world to them, and finally put it in a frame where it can be admired every day.

me, i'm going to start again.

imagining the opposite

2008-04-24T17:33:00.000+10:00

walkin' on sunshine?

2008-04-22T14:15:00.005+10:00

maybe you can help me out - do you have a song you like to sing when you're happy? you know, when an unexpectedly lovely interaction brightens your day, or when you have yourself a little thrill, or things just inexplicably go your way?

can i pre-emptively exclude this one?

the best i could come up with was this:

not bad.

but i think we can do better.

when worlds collide

2008-04-17T16:32:00.002+10:00

i was asked out on a date today. i couldn't say yes but i was so excited and flattered and happy. i thought he was a total honey and i absolutely would've said yes if he didn't work for a company that i'll probably be at serious odds with for the next wee while. quel dommage.

in other news, how do you like the overlap in this little venn diagram?

that's me in the middle there, beaming.

some boys

2008-04-16T23:01:00.002+10:00

it's only just occurred to me that my love affair with tina turner was cemented by a phenomenon that southern staters may not know about: the relationship between la turner and the national rugby league. in 1989, 'what you get is what you see' was used for a stunningly successful campaign to promote the nrl. this collaboration lasted well into the next decade and culminated in 'the best' becoming synonymous with the winfield cup. there were a series of commercials made over the years and the arrangement eventually spawned that duet with our very own working class hero, jimmy barnes. if you have a couple of minutes, it's worth watching this one through to the end, if only to remember that the rabbitohs can score tries.*

this is the later one, which is one of the coolest things i've ever seen.

there are more, should you care to explore the matter further. they make me so happy, and i can't tell if it's her general awesomeness or my sense-memory of being that young and hepped up. i remember my friends and i being so scandalised [read: titillated] by the open sexuality of these ads. i know the guys mostly look funny and dated now but they gave me the chills back then.

okay, maybe they still do.

*rugby league joke inserted despite low likelihood of anyone getting it.

if you wanna love a woman like me...

2008-04-15T21:08:00.000+10:00

...it takes a man to do it.

food for thought

2008-04-13T13:50:00.002+10:00

finally...something to share. a weekend of gastronomic indulgence stretches out behind me, and i can scarcely believe how well i've eaten in just a couple of days. what a treat! so if you live in melbourne-town, you can try these out for yourself, and if you don't, i can always take you there when next you bowl into town.

friday pm: mexicali rose on swan street, richmond.

charmingly low-rent outfit boasting huge servings of authentic mexican food, fairly cheap jugs of frozen margarita, and exceptionally good-looking wait staff. i adore this place, and the burrito colorado is highly recommended. oh, and CHURROS.

saturday am: cavallini on queens parade, clifton hill.

artisan bakery with an italian bent, and you know what that means? bombolini. and espresso. and ciabatta. and...a gorgeous little library full of italian classics to peruse when you're not looking at the dozens of old photographs covering the walls. they warmed our selection, they played swinging jazz and they whisked away the evidence when we were done - marvellous. being a new local for the baby doc, we were mightily impressed.

saturday pm: kanpai on chapel street, south yarra.

lunch at one of my favourite japanese joints in the city. my delightful companion and i split some ebi maki, beef tataki and gyoza. the food is always perfect at kanpai, and the outside tables proved an excellent vantage point to watch the passing parade, before promenading away ourselves.

saturday pm [later]: la maison de tracteurs à chenilles on a street, collingwood.

dinner with some very fine folk - i took bread from cavallini and we made a truly excellent carbonara. upon arrival i was offered a glass of french champagne, which was creamy and luscious and gone in a flash. many glasses of wine, a chocolate viennetta, and four episodes of flight of the conchords later, we called it a night.

sunday am: birdman eating on gertrude street, fitzroy.

is there anything more wonderful than having strong coffee and welsh rarebit delivered to your table in the sunshine by an exquisitely beautiful french waitress? okay, i'm sure everyone has a different idea of heaven but, for today, that's mine. the food at this place is bonkers good, but be prepared to wait for a table.

so there you have it, a magical mystery dining tour of the inner suburbs. i thoroughly recommend all of these places [though my friends a + a may be reticent to throw open their doors for paying customers, but you never know] and i also think that there's a lot to be said for the completely decadent decision to let other people bring you food all weekend [occasionally]. it feels like going away on holiday and, for me, it was worth every cent.

but it's beans on toast tonight, i reckon.

oh no

2008-03-29T18:16:00.001+11:00

i've forgotten how to do this.

iBama?

2008-03-11T18:17:00.003+11:00

i was tickled by this little bit of frivolity. then i checked out the respective websites more thoroughly and i reckon it's a solid argument.

what do you think?

numero uno

2008-03-05T17:01:00.002+11:00

today i signed up my first new member. it was all i could do not to hug her right there in the tea room, but the union has a strict policy of waiting to do the victory dance until after we leave the site.

but it felt good.

also, my thoughts are also strangely with hillary and her supporters today. even though i know what i want, i still find myself pulling for her. and now we know that mccain is the nominee, things are firming up.

maybe it really is two thousand and ace?

it's official

2008-03-03T21:40:00.002+11:00

i'm exhausted, ecstatic, overwhelmed, thrilled, terrified, grateful, hopeful, inspired, optimistic, and still alive.

and that was the first day.

more when i catch my breath...

[and thank you so much for all the messages of love and support - you know what you mean, don't you? x]

shadowboxing

2008-02-29T00:44:00.005+11:00

if you've never thought of angus sampson as a serious contender in the acting stakes, believe. this guy has serious gravitas. i was just lucky enough to see his incredible production of "shadowboxing", all proceeds of which go to the richmond boxing club. the short run of eight nights is already sold out and finishes on sunday. two words: bloody hell.*

apart from being a physically demanding performance [sampson shadowboxes, skips, does push-ups, bag work, and generally trains hard throughout, pouring sweat and remaining vocally flawless], it was a work of exquisite tenderness and gentle comedy. sampson turns the whole room on a knife's edge of pathos and humour, as easily as he convinces us of his boxing prowess and the different kinds of pain he endures in order to live with himself.

it was also genuinely suspenseful, with sampson able to singlehandedly build momentum, mystery and a real sense of physical foreboding. here, he was complemented by some excellent stagecraft, particularly the clever use of lighting and sound to great effect. but rarely is a one man show so utterly thrilling, so affecting, and he never once had to work for the audience - they were firmly within his grasp for the entirety.

it was, quite simply, breathtaking, and i'll be firmly fixed on his career to see what he does next. let's hope that after 'where the wild things are', the australian film fraternity will wake up to this rare talent and give him the chance to stun us all.

p.s. after shadowboxing myself for a few months, i start work on monday in a new job with a union. i'm not sure i'll be able to keep up my commitment of a post per day but i'll try. i'm sure there'll be things to tell you. so i'll be relaxing this weekend, until sunday night when i'll fret and angst and drive myself crazy. then i'll draw breath, and take a step forward. thank you to everyone who held me up.

*no mel, not "hot body".

representing television

2008-02-28T01:28:00.002+11:00

first witness for the defence, stephen fry:

"i remember an episode of star trek that ends with jim turning to mccoy and saying, 'out there, bones, someone is saying the three most beautiful words in the galaxy.' i fully expected the nauseous obviousness of 'i love you'. but kirk turned to the screen, gazed at the stars and whispered:

'please, help me.'

strange, the potency of cheap television."

i don't know about you but i find that pretty moving and not a little profound. you could even say that learning this lesson might save your life.

next up, "if you read a lot of books, you're considered well-read. but if you watch a lot of tv, you're not considered well-viewed." is lily tomlin's take, and she's a fine woman.

but perhaps most compellingly, if it wasn't for both television and the internet, we wouldn't have any of my favourite things this week. this one is not safe for work. actually, depending on your employer, you may exercise caution with all three [heavy on the swears].

or

or, especially

careful with that first one, won't you? i've had it stuck in my head for days and it's quite embarrassing when someone catches you murmuring a few bars...

idiot boxing

2008-02-27T13:48:00.003+11:00

i won't go into the full description of my feelings about catherine deveny's writing/critical faculty or we may be here all day. BUT i must object to some of the comments in today's column. as ever, i have no problem with the broad thrust of her argument, but shouldn't the editor's job be to weed out the more ludicrous and egregious claims? especially when they can't be defended by facts [as if any were sought in the first place].

in an article musing about what happens when kids are taken off the television teat for a month [they're fine], why we put kids in front of tellies anyway [to give parents a break], and whether kids are capable of unassisted play anymore [they're not, really], deveny makes some astonishing and unsubstantiated claims.

like this one:

"i can't believe that anyone thinks telly or computer games are actually good for kids. but are they all bad? sure they develop skills, but there's no skill that could be learned from a screen that couldn't be learnt without one."

really?

i reckon a great many people would think 'telly or computer games' are actually good for kids. i think they are. as with every other thing known to man, under the fucking sun [now that i think of it, including the fucking sun], it's about what and how and how much. i find this kind of knee-jerk response shallow, narrow-minded, and not a bit unlike the cheap journalism we've come to expect from everybody's favourite, EPISODE NO PARENT SHOULD MISS, tabloid current affairs.

the kinds of information that kids access from tv and computer games, and the skills for processing and calibrating it, can't actually be learnt 'without a screen'. is it just that people are afraid of a new generation growing up with totally different skills, views, priorities? sure books are lovely [and require a whole other set of skills that shouldn't be neglected], and playing outside is definitely good for you, and blah blah OF COURSE NO CHILD SHOULD BE GLUED TO A TV OR COMPUTER SHOOTING PEOPLE OR WATCHING BOLD AND THE BEAUTIFUL. but why demonise them as "recreational junk food for kids"?

o cranky day.

the budget oscars

2008-02-26T14:26:00.003+11:00

considering the set was recycled from an old logies telecast, and he had ten days to prepare [ie learn what the previously striking writers had come up with], jon stewart did pretty well. he was as lovely as ever, but far less outrageous, playing it safe for most of the night and only dropping my jaw a couple of times. now that our spiritual leader has been given props, everything else can be reduced to mere bullet points.

best jon stewart moment: bringing marketa irglova back onstage after the orchestra cut her off before she began speaking.

worst jon stewart moment: punning that harrison ford sounded like a car dealership.

best dressed: marion cotillard, for my money.

worst dressed: a tie for ellen page and diablo cody. ladies, please.

best presenter: helen mirren, who gave the whole world an acting masterclass while presenting best actor, simultaneously sending a wave of sexual arousal around the universe.

worst presenter: katherine heigl, poor pet, was choking with nerves.

saddest presenter: owen wilson, bless.

stokedest presenter: colin farrell, who appeared genuinely beside himself to be introducing the great glen hansard.

best reaction: cate blanchett jumping out of her seat and going bonkers when marion cotillard was announced the winner IN HER CATEGORY. is there any end to her awesomeness?

worst reaction: the comatose coens, alighting the stage three times and not managing to look like they give a fuck even once. luckily, frances mcdormand emoted on their behalf from the crowd, actually wolf-whistling at one point. she's rad.

most giddy-making win: 'falling slowly' took best song for the film 'once'. bravo.

most yawn-making win: all the others really. except javier bardem, tilda swinton [who used her oscar speech to razz clooney for his batman suit], daniel day lewis, and marion cotillard. stinkin' foreigners all. coolest gang ever.

that about does it. there were some more cringeworthy moments, lots of montage, both actual and ironic, and obviously some jack nicholson jokes. i had the most fun with my hosts imagining what kind of speeches we'd like to hear ie. daniel day lewis, who makes a movie every ten years and wins an oscar for it, should have gotten up and said 'you got served.' before sitting back down again. but nobody ever really makes oscar dreams come true.

except adrien brody.

my hiro

2008-02-25T00:45:00.002+11:00

it is my dearest hope that all of you have at least one friend who can scoop you up in a time of need and make all your troubles seem tiny and inconsequential.

i do.

just a few days away [not far away mind, just far enough] and i'm restored. wonderful, simple food, good wine, love and care and affection, and many, many parlour games. when ever has a weekend felt like a long, languid holiday? and when ever has a dear heart, a warm kitchen, and a permit for the hound, been so sorely needed and so gratefully received? so at the risk of resembling, in any way, one of those horrific hallmark-esque chain emails about friendship day, i want to say thank you. you're a gift.

and everyone else, please look after your friends. it's not every day you remember how much they matter.

no ordinary sun

2008-02-22T03:58:00.002+11:00

i went looking for some hone tuwhare just now, to find some comfort in his powerful, soothing words. i found instead that he died recently. on january 16, aged 86, he died peacefully, very shortly after edmund hillary. what a blow for their country to lose these giants in such quick succession, but what rich lives, and how many others were richer? i've written about him here before, but if you've never read his work, or [perhaps especially] if you don't consider yourself a 'poetry person', better late than never. i can't imagine how you'd regret wrapping yourself in his thoughts for a spell. he is truly masterful in his ability to cut through, make sense, make sacred, evoke. i love his words. here are some now...

Tree let your arms fall:
raise them not sharply in supplication
to the bright enhaloed cloud.
Let your arms lack toughness and
resilience for this is no mere axe
to blunt nor fire to smother.

Your sap shall not rise again
to the moon’s pull.
No more incline a deferential head
to the wind’s talk, or stir
to the tickle of coursing rain.

Your former shagginess shall not be
wreathed with the delightful flight
of birds nor shield
nor cool the ardour of unheeding
lovers from the monstrous sun.

Tree let your naked arms fall
nor extend vain entreaties to the radiant ball.
This is no gallant monsoon’s flash,
no dashing trade wind’s blast.
The fading green of your magic
emanations shall not make pure again
these polluted skies . . . for this
is no ordinary sun.

O tree
in the shadowless mountains
the white plains and
the drab sea floor
your end at last is written.

hāere ra...

read all about it

2008-02-21T02:09:00.005+11:00

i've just discovered this little corner of the guardian website. called "inside", it's a blog that discusses the way the paper has chosen to report items, and how that material is delivered. i think it such an excellent idea. putting readers directly in touch with journalists to discuss things like why news was reported, and how editorial decisions are made, regarding anything from positioning and length to deeper ethical questions.

a great example at hand is the coverage of the so-called bridgend suicides. the blogger/journalist explains the conference that took place and why the paper decided to report the suicides in the way they did, indeed at all. the post explains some of the moral and ethical considerations and gives us an insight into the editorial process. they let us in on the discussion surrounding such questions as: why publish it at all? and if so, what we were careful to avoid/emphasise as a matter of social responsibility?

i love the instaneity* and accountability at work here. perhaps l'âge could be persuaded to follow suit?

*instantaneousness? intimacy?

falling slowly

2008-02-20T00:56:00.003+11:00

i don't know you
but I want you
all the more for that
words fall through me
and always fool me
and I can't react
and games that never amount
to more than they're meant
will play themselves out

take this sinking boat
and point it home
we've still got time
raise your hopeful voice
you have a choice
you've made it now

falling slowly, eyes that know me
and I can't go back
moods that take me and erase me
and I'm painted black
you have suffered enough
and warred with yourself
it's time that you won

take this sinking boat
and point it home
we've still got time
raise your hopeful voice
you had a choice
you've made it now

take this sinking boat
and point it home
we've still got time
raise your hopeful voice
you had a choice
you've made it now
falling slowly
sing your melody
i'll sing along

file under songs that have kept me alive, courtesy of glen hansard and marketa irglova.

yesterday's men

2008-02-19T02:47:00.002+11:00

in case you missed it, four corners returned to our screens last night with "howard's end", an expose of sorts, in which a bunch of has-beens and also-rans vent their spleens about john howard. behind his back, of course. and after he'd committed political suicide and taken the party with him. a bit of dancing on his political grave, if you will. but make no mistake, this was THEIR CHANCE TO SET THE RECORD STRAIGHT.

'we mentioned to each other that he should leave'.

'we felt privately that kyoto should have been ratified'.

'we didn't realise that work choices would be so hard on australian workers'.

repeat and fade.

it's disconcerting to find that, more and more often, you are in agreement with jeff kennett. but his scathing criticism of howard's henchmen and their group therapy/act of contrition was fair and warranted. it was particularly impressive given his widely documented misgivings about the man himself. don't get me wrong, i'm as amused as the next bleeding-heart pinko snivel-libertarian by the current fortunes of howard et al. but i take no pleasure in watching the liberal party further debilitated by this legacy. we have two major parties, which have always been neighbours on the political spectrum. yes, that can be frustrating at times, but it's also an indicator of our great stability, pragmatism, and lack of, you know, fascist uprising and civil war. the liberal party was seriously wounded by the stewardship of howard, but i'd like to see it recover.

besides, this ghastly parade of howard's bitches* smacked of nothing so much as waiting for the big boy to leave the room before piping up to dob on him. gutless wonders. they waited for howard to be slayed by their political enemies before they had enough courage to sink the boot in. i found it sickening.

over eleven and a half years, they cheered and snickered and congratulated themselves as howard went after the weakest members of our society. more than that, they were his henchmen, attack dogs and lackeys. they watched as he gutted our most valuable institutions and laid waste to BOTH the conservative AND the liberal traditions within the liberal party, leaving it incoherent, authoritarian, and reactionary in way it had never been nor should ever be.

so, messrs costello, abbott, downer, minchin and hockey, shame on you for not rescuing your own party. shame on you for not standing up to a bully. and shame on you for allowing such a malignant personality to leave its indelible mark on australian society.

but you know what? now that the hard work of reconstruction and reparation has begun [on both sides of the house, and throughout the country], nobody cares what you think or what your excuses are. you are truly yesterday's men.

*with gratitude and apologies to eddie perfect.

195 bottles of beer on the wall...

2008-02-18T17:56:00.002+11:00

welcome to nationhood, kosovo.

i wonder if it's too late to see you in belgrade this year.

awkward.

revelation

2008-02-15T10:13:00.002+11:00

reading the paper this morning, i had a stunning epiphany. i think that after so long in opposition, having our institutions attacked, our best intentions and potential trampled on, and our hearts broken over and over again - we're finding it hard to believe/remember that the nightmare is over. i know i am.

so when you feel the bile rising in disgust at nelson's humiliating performance, just think 'it doesn't matter. they lost. he's irrelevant to me and very soon to the liberal party'. when you see fuckos on facebook or myspace saying they're not sorry, feel sorry for them. when you hear of imbeciles calling in to talkback radio to vent their spleen, just think 'oh, it must be so difficult for you now that john howard has been vanquished'. as the great stephen fry once said of such people:

"it's mean to attack so hopeless a brand of feeble stupidity or mock so terrible a lack of imagination, in the end it is its own tragic handicap, and those who go to the grave unilluminated by the light of ideas are the sufferers..."

not only are opponents of the apology suffering from a crippling failure of intellect and imagination, they also have to watch while the rest of the country says 'too bad. you lost. this is our australia now'.

we won.

happy st. kev's day

2008-02-14T19:31:00.006+11:00

will you be my prime minister?

[i choo-choo-choose you]

took the children away

2008-02-14T00:53:00.004+11:00

this story's right, this story's true
i would not tell lies to you
like the promises they did not keep
and how they fenced us in like sheep
said to us come take our hand
set us up on mission land
they taught us to read, to write and pray
then they took the children away
took the children away
the children away
snatched from their mother's breast
said this is for the best
took them away

the welfare man, the policeman
said you've got to understand
cos' we'll give to them what you can't give
and teach them how to really live
teach them how to live they said
humiliated them instead
and they taught them that and taught them this
and others taught them prejudice
oh took the children away
oh the children away
breaking their mothers heart
tearing us all apart
took them away

one dark day on framlingham
came and did not give a damn
my mother cried go get their dad
he came running, fighting mad
mother's tears were falling down
and my dad shaped up and stood his ground
he said you touch my kids and you gotta fight me boys
then they took us from our family
took us away
yeah took us away
grabbed from our mother's breast
said this is for the best
took us away

told us what to do and say
taught us all these are white man's ways
but then they split us up again
gave us gifts to ease the pain
sent us off to foster homes
and as we grew up oh we felt alone
cause we were acting white
and feeling black
one sweet day all the children came back

yeah the children came back
yeah the children came back
back where their hearts grow strong
back where they all belong
the children came back
said the children came back
oh the children came back
back where they understand
back to their mother's land
the children came back

back to their mother
back to their father
back to their sister
back to their brother
back to their people
back to their land
all the children came back
all the children came back
yeah the children came back
yes I came back.

archie roach

sorry

2008-02-13T09:35:00.000+11:00

obviously.

oh, go fly a kite

2008-02-12T21:55:00.000+11:00

three things to love about juno:

1. allison janney's perfect performance
2. michael cera's breathless charm
3. a few laugh-out-loud moments of glorious abandon [of convention]

three things to hate about juno:

1. a hybrid of; daria/darlene conner/every character janeane garofalo has ever played, smart-mouthing her way through the longest episode of dawson's creek-meets-napoleon dynamite EVER
2. 48 twinkly indie guitar anthems, each riffing on the theme of...'i like you, you like me, be the macaroni to my cheese'
3. oscar nominations

apparently, there is a debate raging along these rather more political lines too, but i'm not really phased by the issue of abortion in this film. especially given that it's essentially a story as firmly within the realms of fantasy as any wes anderson movie.* and as i argue about that kind of magical realism, you can't expect astute political commentary from beautiful flights of fancy. likewise, i'm not sure that teen comedies [however sweet] should be shouldered with the task of sex education. but even if a movie is sometimes just a movie, it has to be better than this to get my vote.

i'm afraid i have to out myself as a paid-up member of the juno backlash.

try googling that term, by the way.

*i mean, if every kid was like juno [perfect, wonderful, supportive family, head screwed on so tight she never wonders who she is, no complications or serious consequences], then carrying a baby to term in order to adopt it out might be a viable alternative to abortion for a teenage girl who made a mistake.

nowt so near as folk

2008-02-11T12:41:00.000+11:00

after a weekend gambolling around town that included:

a] a magical candlelit dinner prepared for me by a beautiful woman,
b] shakin' it at a homotastic, transgender, rock 'n' roll show meets sexy-as-hell, off-the-wall burlesque spectacular, and
c] taking in the st kilda festival with a couple of hot fags,

i think i'm at least as queer as my dog.

in other news...don't give up.

the meaning of life?

2008-02-08T02:58:00.000+11:00

i was pondering the question of religion some more, when i stumbled across this quote in an interview with john cleese:

"Here's what I think in a single sentence: I think that the real religion is about the understanding that if we can only still our egos for a few seconds, we might have a chance of experiencing something that is divine in nature. But in order to do that, we have to slice away at our egos and try to get them down to a manageable size, and then still work some practiced light meditation. So real religion is about reducing our egos, whereas all the churches are interested in is egotistical activities, like getting as many members and raising as much money and becoming as important and high-profile and influential as possible. All of which are egotistical attitudes. So how can you have an egotistical organization trying to teach a non-egotistical ideal? It makes no sense, unless you regard religion as crowd control. What I think of most organized religion — simply crowd control."

well, this crowd control bizzo sounds familiar. also, when he said "something that is divine in nature", i initially took it to mean something 'divine' in the natural, real world, rather than a mystical or spiritual one. something more compatible with rational, secular humanism. but on reflection, i think he just means a particular type of divinity.

still. interesting, no?

a bit of the old ultra-vilification

2008-02-07T12:05:00.000+11:00

i can't tell if this is cool or not.

my first reaction was satisfaction, that a group of people infamous for using millions of dollars, threats and harrassment to suppress any criticism or exposure of their activities, are finally getting their comeuppance. there's a rich history of activists using technology to bring otherwise omnipotent bastards to their knees. on the other hand, if you have any kind of religious affiliation, you might feel empathy for a group of people who believe in a higher power [however absurd] being attacked and vilified by 'non-believers'. at the very least, you might defend their right to practice their religion without interference, in the spirit of freedom of expression. it's voltaire, it's the vibe etc.

but what if, like me, you pretty much deplore all organised religion? i asked myself if i'd be as comfortable with this kind of campaign being waged against any of the big world religions. i'd have to say yes. why not? aren't they all siphoning money away from vulnerable people to perpetuate a mythical world-view and further institutionalised discrimination? why is scientology so much worse?

and can we answer that question without citing tom cruise?

who should banksy be?

2008-02-06T01:39:00.000+11:00

a new parlour game has just been minted and it's hot off the press. introducing a guest blogger for the evening: hiro. the conversation went something like this [don't you wish you were privy to all the great conversations of the world? "oh i say, let's build a wall! yes, a wall in berlin!" or "yes, john. you should absolutely dismiss the prime minister...i'd be ever so grateful."]:

hiro: i feel like we should be engaging in guerilla art of some sort. go nuts on the city's arse, banksy style.

mskp: i'd be up for that. like, billboards that are fucked and offensive to women could stand to have the banksy treatment. we could write "boring" across them like he did. cos you don't need any artistic skills to do that.

hiro: but i can't get caught doing that shit, or i'd lose my job.

mskp: you hate your job.

hiro: but i need it.

...

hiro: did you know banksy's black?

mskp: no. how do you know? nobody's seen him.

hiro: yeah, there's one picture of him. ever. it's from the side.

mskp: i've seen it! it's pixillated!

hiro: yeah, but the pixels are brown.

...

mskp: imagine if banksy was someone awesome that you'd never think.

hiro: LIKE PRINCE CHARLES.

mskp: or zsa zsa gabor's husband.

hiro: peaches geldof.

mskp: helen mirren.

[hilarity ensues]

so who do you wish banksy was?

ma belle

2008-02-05T16:34:00.000+11:00

i spent a goodly portion of last night on the phone to glasgow, talking to ma belle soeur. her and sebastian have done the cleverest thing* and very soon they will meet a crazily small person who looks an awful lot like them. apparently, you are actually pregnant for ten months, not nine, well i never etc. so they wait. and the rest of us, on the other side of the world, fashion advent calendars out of egg cartons and hope against hope that the delivery date OF FEBRUARY 29 [YES, FOR REALS] is honoured by the stork. i miss you both madly, and i know i speak for many others when i say [casually, and without expectation] "see youse soon".

belle and i found time to talk of things other than pre-natal craziness - heath ledger, bay dredging/channel deepening [as her and sebastian still read the age online every day, bless their cotton socks], brumbyitis, the apology, the american military presence during world war two, soeharto's legacy, and super tuesday. don't worry, we've pretty much got all that under control now, so you can relax.

apparently, the super tuesday coverage is nothing short of hysterical in the uk, which sounds like my idea of heaven, but apparently it becomes tedious knowing what hillary and barack are wearing, eating for breakfast, slinging at each other, from minute to minute. belle worries that after they've finished monstering each other, the nominee will struggle to restore their reputation with the electorate. exposing those weaknesses could be just what mccain needs to unite republicans and split the democratic vote.

we'll know more tomorrow...

*it's a joke, joyce.

not so blue monday

2008-02-04T13:38:00.000+11:00

i'm feeling very strange today, because from memory this is what it's like to have a "spring" in one's "step". last week was a minefield of nasty surprises, job-front rejection, and some good old fashioned despair. but after spending the weekend reconnecting, and soaking up the love and support of my friends, and reading things like sally morgan's suggested wording for the apology - i feel restored.

and here on the path, it looks like we have a clear favourite for US08. barack obama, come on down. he is very much my favourite too. i feel like this new frontier requires someone we can believe in, be inspired by, and feel hopeful about. i don't feel that way about hillary clinton, though i'd still be rapt if she won.

swings and roundabouts.

billary or barack?

2008-02-01T14:29:00.000+11:00

just a quick friday vox pop to get the ball rolling on what i hope will be the first of many discussions about the UTTERLY THRILLING presidential primaries. i can't believe that in all probability, the united states of america will soon have either a female or a black president. and the worst case scenario would give us a moderate republican who's a pretty good stick. but between now and november, we've got ringside seats for one hell of a show.

four more sleeps til super tuesday...

would you wear this t-shirt?

2008-02-01T14:11:00.000+11:00

"MOTHER TERESA WAS A DUD ROOT"

reconnecting

2008-01-31T14:07:00.000+11:00

so i've decided, among other things, to try and post here every day. i've been waiting for the net to be connected at home, waiting til i find a job, waiting til i feel better, before i felt i could fully re-inhabit this space. no more waiting. waiting is what makes me feel so powerless, so isolated, like nobody understands [because i don't let them]. i've been waiting for my life to get easier but i've been waiting in the dark by myself. now i see that talking with you might help me.

i've had alot of time to think about what kind of life i want to have. i'm going to do more of the things that make me happy, things that reassure me it's okay to back yourself in, be different, extraordinary even. i know i'm good at communicating with people, which is why sitting in a room for three years writing a book that nobody would read just about unhinged me. i don't want to be in that rarefied world any more. i want to be thinking and reacting and talking and listening. out there. out here.

it's good to remember every now and then that when you look around at the world and feel like you don't fit, you can be sure that's a good sign. sharing those thoughts with others is what keeps us going. we look after each other. we remind each other that it's okay to be angry, to care, to laugh in the face of disaster, to want change.

i want change.

the grand national

2008-01-22T15:16:00.000+11:00

weekends are funny things when you're unemployed [much the same as they are for the phd student]. the only thing you really notice is that everyone is suddenly free to play. cabaret on thursday, dinner, drinks, dancing on friday, and then the lovely d. took me to see the national at the corner on saturday. bloody hell, were they good. i will definitely save up to buy their album. thanks, gorgeous woman, for thinking of me.

not much more to report. happy that india won the cricket. happy that lleyton's out of the open. happy that i finally gave in to the delights of nip/tuck.

what's with you?

alert the media

2008-01-15T16:41:00.000+11:00

TEENAGER HAS PARTY WHILE PARENTS ARE OUT OF TOWN.

is anyone else completely baffled/amused/delighted by this? i just can't get enough of corey delaney*. i mean, he's obviously a bit of a tool who needs to tone down his explosive 80's fashion homage/montage a smidge, but isn't he just doing what kids do? i mean, sure, he's cheeky but i feel like that makes the outpouring of shock and dismay from his parents even more disingenuous. i mean, it's not like we have an honours student on our hands here. i find it hard to believe that this is the first indication of his naughtiness. as for answering the prayers of tabloid journalists, isn't he the perfect poster child for some good old fashioned moral panic and yoof-bashing? let's see...he's:

a] dressed outrageously/in a way unassimilable to old fogies
b] not contrite/calls it the "best party ever**"
c] a touch inarticulate.

i don't condone smashing up police cars [well, not unless it's motivated by revolutionary zeal and not bacardi breezers] but isn't this a kid, defying his parents, trying to throw a big fuck-off party, and then surpassing his expectations? i reckon it's a pretty obvious media beat-up. in the meantime, i hope they keep up the blanket coverage, because every time i see corey delaney's sartorial tribute to parker lewis and flavor flav, i can't help but smile.

* corey, story, allegory, montessori...
** in fairness, from what i remember about the "best" parties at school, this one ticks a few boxes. anti-authoritarianism, crashers in their hundreds, and {apparently) a nude run seemingly for the benefit of a current affair. not bad.

showdowns and throwdowns...breakdowns and shakedowns

2008-01-07T14:37:00.000+11:00

let me start by saying that i would very much like to keep this strange creature [POMR] alive for another year, so bear with me while i figure out how to do that. would you mind terribly if i gave you the briefest of summaries, asked for your pardon, and moved on?

in short, i've been away having a pretty serious mental health episode. the trouble started earlier in the year and by july had become impossible to ignore. i was diagnosed with clinical anxiety and depression, and i've decided to write those words here so as to see them for what they are - just little words. of course, in reality, they have big consequences, and in my case, they were very big indeed. my marriage didn't survive, which left me very sad, and neither did my doctoral candidature, which left me less so. to leave both of those relationships behind is absolutely the right thing for me, so please understand that i'm not seeking advice or counsel on either. if you want to know anything at all about me, or my illness, or my flight from the academy, i am an open book but i don't want to talk anymore about the breaking of hearts. love, whether it fails or succeeds, is between lovers. i hope you understand.

but i am, as ever, at your disposal. let's talk about barack and hillary, lindsay and britney, myf and marieke, kev and jules, nicolas and carla, australia and india, and tony and the one true god.

i've missed you...

x

brb

2008-01-03T01:52:00.000+11:00

just working up the courage...

iceblocks and hamburgers

2007-11-09T11:03:00.000+11:00

this article made my heart feel so good. the tears came suddenly and with such force, but i felt nothing but joy. there's so much to love about this whole story.

more soon, i promise. i just had to share a moment of abandon - it's not every day there's something to celebrate in public life.*

*though lately, it kinda feels that way, huh? "sorry" for the rate rise? awesome.

the deep north

2007-09-12T00:21:00.000+10:00

given that i haven't seen much of anyone lately, and that most of my communication with the world is through this infernal contraption, it probably won't make a lick of difference to most of you that i'm going away for a while.

i'm heading back to queensland for a spell, leaving tomorrow. the whys and wherefores are a little complicated but basically i'm going to stay awhile with the kinds of people who cook me nice meals and encourage me to read books by their pool etc. the plan is to spend the next few weeks thinking and reading and considering. there will also be walking and talking and swimming, i think. nothing too arduous [unless you count the act of going back itself, which i kinda do].

frank is accompanying me, so you might feel like popping in on my beloved over the next wee while. i'm sure he would appreciate any attempts to entertain/feed/pet him while we're away. though he may be too busy playing xbox, drawing long baths, and cooking pancakes to answer the door. such is his charming way.

and if you need me, of course, i'll be right here...x

just cos i wanna know

2007-09-11T11:49:00.000+10:00

home and away or neighbours?

blur or oasis?

law and order or the bill?

the rolling stones or the who?

red or white?

hillary or barack?

priscilla or muriel?

scorsese or coppola?

tasmania or new zealand?

buffy or faith?

just in case you missed it...

2007-09-07T03:16:00.000+10:00

love to have a beer with kevvie...

2007-08-20T01:00:00.000+10:00

as i was reading the sunday papers, i couldn't help but think that this might actually help k-rudd win middle australia. my suspicions were confirmed by peter helliar's gags on rove last night.*

it seems to me like a win-win-win situation. not only do aussie blokes love a bloke who gets pissed and takes to a girlie bar, but aussie sheilas love it when he humbly apologises in an appropriately sheepish tone. i added the third win because inner-city pinkos like me might frown at his participation in stereotypical masculinist bullshit BUT are a) impressed to remember that he was representing australia at the u.n. and b) happy that in order to expose him, howard's dirt unit also had to implicate one of rupert's minions. in fact, this is so perfect, it could've [should've?] come from within the alp.

of course, it also helps that the god botherers have weighed in to say "that's cool, baby - we are sinners every one" [translation: he is still more christian than howard].

well played, kev, well played.

*gimme a break, i had to watch it as ryan adams was on. it was surprisingly sweet and funny actually. has rove changed? or is it me?

lazy bones

2007-08-16T17:09:00.000+10:00

that's what my grandmother used to call me when i got out of bed after 8am. my grandparents were farmers, you see, and if you caught the nine o'clock bus into town [there were three buses a day], then you would leave with these words ringing in your ears:

"i don't know why you bother. you've already wasted half the day..."

i've been thinking about them alot lately. partly because i've been getting up very late, but also because my family history has become quite a contentious subject for me recently. i've not been very well, and this has led me to think [and begrudgingly talk] about my childhood, much of which was spent on my grandparents' farm.

so it's not been laziness [exactly] that's stopped me from posting. more like a slowing of thought. the impulse to observe and connect with folk has largely been satisfied by a daily browse through facebook [damn you, book of face, and all your blog-killing ways!] but other than that, i'm currently putting myself through an enforced break in transmission. and not just here.

you see, i'm trying to stop.

stop thinking, stop worrying, hating, cursing, sighing, dragging my heels, reading, writing, talking, watching - all the things i do instead of just...being. i'm trying to sit still for a little while. i'm not sure this will make sense, but i'm trying to slow down my thoughts to a stop for the first time ever.

it's hard.

but rest assured, i've had lots of silly ideas for posts while i've been away. i'll be getting back to it soon.

don't know what you got [til it's gone]*

2007-08-01T11:08:00.000+10:00

after the ill-receipt of my recent cryptic youtube postage, i thought we'd return to a more conventional form of entertainment; another parlour game. this one was first tested out on my beloved hank during my first visit to brighton. along with arguing over the hotness of aaron pedersen [i'm in favour], watching alias with the sound turned off [so much funnier, and you can still make out the utter badness of garner's accents], running youtube searches like this:

family guy britney spears
family guy whitney houston
family guy liza minelli

and eating hoisin chicken, this game helped to pass the time admirably.

here we go. the premise of the game is that oftentimes we find something so heinous/boring/rubbish that we take it for granted, because lurking around the corner, in the shadows, waiting and watching, is its replacement WHICH IS INFINITELY MORE HEINOUS/BORING/RUBBISH.

to wit: axel whitehead. drove me crazy at the helm of video hits. then, right when he got interesting by flashing his wang on national television thus creating the impression of serious coke dependence HE WAS FIRED AND REPLACED BY SOME MINIONS OF THE DEVIL. ok, not really. and let me coda by saying that i see fuzzy around campus and [even on the show] she seems sweet as candy but for reals, she's not ready to host the hits. and as for the other guy. seriously. get him into surgery for a charisma bypass, stat. i miss axel...i really do.

more examples include:

malcolm fraser
recovery as hosted by dylan lewis
the glass house
britney's first husband
george bush senior
the smell of the tote before the smoking ban
bracksalicious

i'll think of some more...

p.s. on a separate but related note, i'm pretty sure that samuel johnson is the dirt ben mendelsohn. i mean that as a compliment.

*let the record show that the title of this game/post is in homage to cinderella and not joni mitchell. thank you.

the perfect blend

2007-07-23T14:51:00.000+10:00

another step too far

2007-07-19T12:39:00.000+10:00

i realise that this blog can sometimes seem like a feral roller-coaster ride of [by turns] hare-brained frivolity and barely checked outrage, but bloody hell.

i wasn't going to write about it. i tried not to think about it at all, really. just like the matt newton farce, and the invasion of aboriginal australia, and the unbelievable fucking bile spewing out of witnesses at the brimble inquest - my first instinct is to rip it apart here and write my way out of the anger. then i feel exhausted just thinking about it. so i play parlour games instead.

is it that things are too awful to engage with anymore? or that there seems to be no point? oh, i know this stuff is encouraging. but what will really change with a new government? so much of what ails us is deeply entrenched within our culture - sexism, violence, misogyny, racism. john howard is a nasty piece of work, no question. but he does what he can get away with. the acceptance of these horrific abuses within australian society is not his fault - it's ours. sure, he can be charged with presiding over attitudinal shifts but howard is the symptom, not the cause. look around.

i was thinking this morning about how many novels strike me as hopelessly internal. you know, middle-class musings about the life of the mind, ruled by emotion, but only personal emotion and angst and despair. i was thinking how little i enjoy them, because they stop at the edges of a person and concentrate only on the self. they pay no attention to structure.

but maybe that's all you know for sure. maybe that's all you can change - yourself. maybe writing about structural injustice is just as indulgent because it's even more futile.

i was struck by jones and fraser's use of the phrase: this is another step too far. with each new low, we breathlessly assure ourselves 'this time. surely. this time people will see. we'll change. we'll arrest the damage.'

how many more steps "too far"?

that lame post

2007-07-18T16:28:00.000+10:00

the problem with watching rage and video hits of a weekend is that you may spend the rest of the week singing songs about umb-a-rellas and wondering if nicole richie is slowly dying because the slightly pudgy, pampered-looking lead singer of good charlotte is eating all her food, or if that's just a patented lohan-doherty drug bloat.

that said, i'm intrigued and slightly ticked off by the name of the new good charlotte single - "dance floor anthem". you see, i love these puns, and i'm not sure i like snotty nosed bad musicians using them without my say-so. let's face it, when queens of the stone age call their song "the feelgood hit of the summer" we laugh like drains and declare it the most whimsical jape of the season. when good charlotte do it, i want to throw out all my black eyeliner, lest i ever EVER be mistaken for one of them.

now, to our task - what are all the other clever literal puntastic names? here are some i thought of:

that 70s show
date movie [et al ad infinitum]
the good bar

help me think of the rest?

oh kevin

2007-07-11T11:37:00.000+10:00

you are skating on some very thin ice, my friend.

i'm a rocket...man

2007-07-10T13:44:00.001+10:00

the other one

2007-07-03T14:00:00.000+10:00

when the going gets tough, the tough play parlour games. so with precious little fanfare, allow me to introduce "the other one" for your enjoyment, distraction, and ultimate fulfilment.

we learn to play by example:

michael hutchence, kirk pengilly, the farriss brothers and ...

the other one [garry gary beers].

roger daltrey, pete townsend, keith moon and ...

the other one [john entwistle].

axl rose, slash, izzy stradlin, duff mckagan and ...

the other one [steven adler, though arguably duff mckagan is the other other one].

and my personal favourite:

kurt cobain, dave grohl and ...

perhaps the protoypical "other one" [krist novoselic].

let us play.

this whispering in our hearts

2007-06-28T09:47:00.000+10:00

when henry reynolds wrote those words he was talking about that nagging feeling that he and many of his contemporaries felt during the great australian silence. how, before the concerted academic movement of the seventies and eighties, many still felt a deep suspicion about the truth of aboriginal dispossession - that it wasn't a riddle, that the incomprehensible may be comprehended after all.

some applauded him for being so candid in a memoir - the memoir of australia's preeminent scholar of aboriginal history. with the possible exception of stanner himself, nobody has done more to highlight not only the terrible cost of contact for indigenous communities but also the courage and reality of their resistance to european invasion.

still others pilloried reynolds for this characterisation. aboriginal australia wasn't whispering, they said, it was screaming for our help, our recognition. and i understand the position of these critics but i think reynolds has the stronger point.

i think it's reasonable to suggest that most australians still don't fully grasp the nature of dispossession. in fairness, the national reaction to the bringing them home report was appropriate and impressive, but the harbour bridge walk, the single biggest political demonstration in the country's history [bigger than the vietnam moratorium, though later outstripped by the protests against iraq], was soon forgotten. so the 'whispering in our hearts' was confirmed by the facts. aboriginal children had been stolen, and this resonated with parents and children in white australia. was it enough to keep the reconciliation movement going? in the end, no.

i thought of henry reynolds [and the whispering in his heart] this morning as i read about troops entering aboriginal communities. i realised that the question i most often ask as an historian is 'how did they let this happen?'. and when we consider earlier cycles of abuse, like the stolen generation, we have to acknowledge [at the very least] that most people didn't know.

this time, we know.

activities calendar

2007-06-25T13:23:00.000+10:00

first things first - lovely weekend ending with the hijinx of the community cup yesterday. but looking forward, this week will be busy as all get out, and here's why.

tuesday night: the bobby flynn five hit the corner hotel for the second time in a month. the other show sold out [as did, i think, one at the northcote social club last night] so get thee to this one before they head west. you'll be pleasantly surprised and warmed through - mister flynn ain't no idol dropout. full disclosure - toby's brother is bobby's drummer for the australian tour BUT we caught the last show at the corner and were thoroughly impressed. so do yourself a molly meldrum.

wednesday night: the first issue of overland magazine with jeff sparrow as editor will be launched at dante's in fitzroy. i'll be mc-ing this event but it will be launched by clare wright, celebrity historian. if you've been [dragged] to an overland launch before, you won't recognise this one. jeff is taking things in a much lighter direction - we'll be having prizes, trivia challenges, and lots of booze. in other words, FUN. come, do.

thursday night: i'll be shaking my moneymaker and farewelling a treasured institution brought to us by the letters Q and A [and the incomparable richard watts]. that's right, last q + a EVS. so if you've loved it over the years, or if you've never experienced the magic, thursday eve is your last chance to do so. carn.

phew! whatever will i do on friday?

UPDATE: FINAL PANIC THIS FRIDAY NIGHT.

bloody hell.

incoming

2007-06-21T12:14:00.000+10:00

what did this woman say when asked about the 6.8% pay rise for parliamentarians?

"oh, i'll probably buy some extra pearls to cast before the deserving poor or something, hey?"

you fucking swine.

i turn and laugh at all the beauty in the world

2007-06-20T14:37:00.000+10:00

i have recently figured out [read: asked toby] how to get the pictures out of my phone and onto my computer. they're here now, so you might reasonably expect a lot of photopostage - starting today. these are some of my favourite images of graffiti, stencil art, and general improvement of public space. most of them are from 'round here but some of them are from mt. lawley in perth, taken on my epic western adventure. so without further ado...

this is true [depending on who "you" are, i guess].

i saw this one in collingwood on a blue day and it broke my heart in all the right places. i don't mind earnestness so much if it touches me.

creepy AND awesome...the best kind.

me too.

don't be.

sinister...but no less cute. i thought there was a jewish vibe going on, but doc assures me it's just a weird little kid.

man with planet for head rides enormous fish. obviously.

some succinct social commentary from the ghetto of hate.

and finally, a little message that i refer to often [has it kept me alive?]...

quite.

q + a-ness*

2007-06-15T15:56:00.000+10:00

last night, as i was leaving q + a with a beautiful blonde lady friend, a terribly handsome and tragically camp man approached me in a bit of a tizz. let's call him "high on ecstasy boy". high on ecstasy boy bounded towards me, arms akimbo and with considerable earnestness said/squealed:

'WE NEED SAME SEX MARRIAGE NOW!'

me: right now?

hoeb: yes, immediately!

me: why? who do you want to marry?

hoeb: you!

me: well, that wouldn't really be a same sex marriage, would it?

hoeb: no, i suppose not. i'd probably just marry my boyfriend.

me: you could go and "register your relationship" at town hall. john so says so.

hoeb: *channels liza minelli* NO, I WANT A CE-RE-MON-Y!

me: hmmm. try canada then.

hoeb: *shrugs* okay. [yells] BYE! *skips off in direction of dance floor, never to be seen again*

there really are nowt so queer as folk...

*pun courtesy of weelaine

lolfrank

2007-06-13T15:08:00.001+10:00

um-mah

2007-06-08T04:04:00.000+10:00

i just drank some coke.

ticks for today

2007-06-06T12:47:00.000+10:00

here are a few of my favourite things from the paper today:

jonesing for a bonesing

scooter goes down

hell's pells

loco logo

gorgeous george*

all very pleasing to me.

*monbiot not bush

what? no funny glasses?

2007-06-06T12:39:00.000+10:00

are you 'avin' a laff? is 'e 'avin' a laff?

the other sam

2007-06-05T13:05:00.000+10:00

lately, i've found myself perusing the age online and noticing a strange trend developing in the blog section. unlike its female counterpart, the utterly appalling 'sam and the city', sam de brito's blog 'all men are liars' has impressed me more than once. today, he calls the struggle for gender equality "the biggest problem facing the world". he frames this discussion in terms of islam, after having seen ayaan hirsi ali speak at the sydney writer's festival, but he is very clear about gender inequality crossing all boundaries of race, religion and class. i have some reservations about hirsi ali's views [as ms apple knows], but i think the spirit of de brito's message is hard to fault. recently, i've found things to like about his posts on the demonisation of cabbies and the coverage of baby catherine too. of course, some of his posts are a tad reactionary, if not inane, but i think all blogs are from time to time [mine being a case in point]. some of my favourite blogs are like this, cos when they're on, they're on.

so this is a shout-out to the other sam. i'll be keeping my eye on you...

old friends are gold

2007-06-04T14:23:00.000+10:00

this morning i opened an email account to find a message from a dear old friend. i haven't seen hide nor hair of him for years, our primary communication being middle-of-the-night pissed-tastic texts and ecstatic calls from gigs. you know the kind: *yells* "i'm at [insert name of awesome band here]! it's fucking going off! i love everything! sucks to be you!" etc. i thought maybe he'd freakishly remembered my birthday. perhaps he did. i'll never know, as the email contained no text, no message, no correspondence of any kind.

only a picture.

um, pretty much the best thing i've seen ever.

life [but not as we know it]

2007-06-01T13:29:00.000+10:00

i just want to say how much i'm enjoying bad tv right now. i'm back into neighbours [only cos it's gone off the deep end] and today i watched moonlighting followed by dr phil. sure, my i.q. may be suffering but damn it feels good.

in other tv news, i'm reminded that there's bad and then there's bad. channel nine have devoted tuesday nights to their favourite pastime - that's right, it's ridiculing the poor and whipping up community hatred! the law 'n' order hour starts with "crime & justice" [australia's answer to cops] and follows that up with a novel concept, "neighbours at war". if by novel, you mean a staple of tabloid current affairs for the last couple of decades. this week's episode is described as follows in the nine tv guide:

Things have turned very ugly in the Wellington community of Grenada North. Warning: tonight's episode features bad language, violence, bared buttocks and poor grammar.

so we get to laugh at poor NEW ZEALANDERS as well. they are so hilarious, with their lack of education and structural disadvantage. i just love it when they get arrested/punch each other up/look fat/set each other on fire/talk funny/swear. it's so much fun to laugh at when you know that it'll never be you.

i think i could have channel nine disabled on my set top box and never rue its passing. in fact, i just scrolled through the guide for the week and there are exactly 2 shows i would watch on channel nine, both of which i can do without. let's face it, a life without antiques roadshow and entertainment tonight is still a life.

speaking of life, tomorrow i will have been alive for thirty years. i will celebrate this achievement by sitting in a plush cuban bar with my loved ones, drinking expensive cocktails and smoking lots of cigarettes. amo vida.

p.s. can anyone tape the bill?

the curious incident of the peel in the night-time

2007-05-30T16:00:00.000+10:00

does vcat only sit every now and then? it seems like lately we've seen a spate of decisions from them and i wondered if they save up cases and see them all at once every few months? never mind. i'm thinking about the vcat decision to uphold the right of the peel to refuse entry to heterosexuals and lesbians and i'm in a right state.

what do you think? my thinking brain says yes. i can see the argument that gay men shouldn't feel threatened or menaced or even objectified in what should be a safe space. i've been at gay bars when the hens and bucks have arrived. i've seen some very bad behaviour from contemptuous and homophobic fuckwits in gay clubs. there's also the issue of straight guys being horrified at being chatted up in gay venues [um...hello?] and sometimes reacting violently. this is all fucked. i think alot of this "reverse discrimination" bleating is bullshit. as with arguments about indigenous funding or affirmative action, i suspect that the straight white male doth protest too much. my biggest concern about this ban is not its impact on the straight men who are kept out but rather what it means for the gay men who are sequestered in this way [though i think that the ban on lesbians is inexplicable and evidence of a misogynistic streak in the gay male community...but that's another story].

you see my instinct says no to the peel. no to segregation and no to accepting that gay men need to wall themselves off from the prejudice of society. wasn't that the point of gay liberation? and shouldn't the solution involve committing to more cultural change? i feel like it's regressive to treat homophobia by keeping homosexuality behind closed doors. and won't the gay community suffer too? i've met some gay men who have their heads so far up their arses about women and "breeders" that it's hard to be sympathetic to their claims of marginalisation. these guys need to hang out with some people other than gay men. i know i'm veering dangerously close to 'why can't we all just get along?' territory but i think the only way to break down hostility is through education and exposure.

in the meantime, while that structural change is being further pursued, can't the peel just refuse entry to anyone falling into the category of fucking idiot? after all, there thousands of other venues catering to fucking idiots, aren't there?

brush with fame

2007-05-29T13:53:00.001+10:00

do you think it was the real thetis bernard who commented on the last post? if it was, we have been touched by an angel [or rather the third lesbian vampire hottie].

peeling back the layers

2007-05-24T14:24:00.000+10:00

as a rule, i don't blog the onion. it's too tempting to link it every week, and i can't tell anymore if i'm chortling away out of habit or if it's really funny.

but after snorting loudly at this little gem, i decided to make an exception.

message from my younger self

2007-05-23T16:13:00.000+10:00

my birthday is on the milk.

idiocy...of all shades

2007-05-18T14:04:00.000+10:00

it's been a frustrating week. on tuesday and wednesday, i wrote lovely versions of the same post, only to have them eaten by what i thought was blogger/interwebs gremlins. yesterday, i couldn't bear to post after reading audrey's. then my personal i.t. consultant informed me last night that my computer was crashing because the cable was loose. bah.

BUT...today we can celebrate a few things in public life. good riddance to bad rubbish, as covered here by the trickster. so long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye...boner. and, um, YEAH!

have a lovely weekend.

douze points

2007-05-14T14:26:00.000+10:00

this past weekend was a whirligig of light and colour. the party was a highly charged affair, involving a mostly narrow interpretation of the theme [ie. sleazy - why are people so unimaginative? or is it that they can't resist dabbling in the heterosexual porn aesthetic?], rampant substance abuse, and five visits from the police. fortunately, the police were there to confiscate noise-making equipment and not conduct searches, which kept the arrests to a minimum. weird night.

saturday saw us served an absolutely superb meal at cafe bedda* in northcote, before dashing off to the late showing of the history boys. both delightful, but neither so much as our charming and loquacious companion.

and last night, we laughed, we cried, we booed and hissed during the finale of...eurovision 2007. there were a few discernible trends in evidence - cummerbunds [on men and women], military-esque medals pinned to chests [of both men and women], and the colour red dominated [especially during a particularly memorable number involving fake blood spurting from the chest of a wounded balladeer]. of course, we dug the dirt, uncovering the dirt robbie williams [turkey, accompanied by dirt shakiras], enrique [armenia], girls aloud [russia], evanescence [every second country], michael buble [germany], justin hawkins [sweden], ricky martin [greece], and kd lang [serbia]. though mel pointed out that serbia was more like kd lang as played by chris lilley...

my sentimental favourite of the night was sweden, and the wooden spoon went to ireland, when it quite clearly should've been used to smack some sense into the british. as we sat horrified and stunned at the sheer awfulness of their entry, bonnie turned to me and asked "how do they manage to get it so wrong every year?".

well, they're called scooch for a start. and the soft-porn-inspired slutty-air-hostess routine didn't help. i'd also venture that a song called "flying the flag" [and then literally doing it] would hurt your chances. i'd imagine that such jingoistic nationalism would be unpopular in a contest full of countries that pretty much hate your guts. just a thought.

my two commentators for the night were terry wogan and this lovely man, the second of which would be very upset if i didn't leave you with this - ukraine wuz robbed.

*mere words will do no justice to the quality of the food here. you must try it for yourself.

tonight's the night

2007-05-11T13:49:00.000+10:00

the ghetto of hate becomes the ghetto of love tonight, as sexy fever hits town. i will be dressed as a [tenuously] feminist icon [i wonder who it could be?] and my dear husband is threatening to come as a non-human cast member of star wars. we'll celebrate the undisputed sexiness of the baby doc and his beau, before they jet off to the french riviera tomorrow.

...

no, i'm not kidding.

they are going to cannes.

that is, the ACTUAL FILM FESTIVAL.*

i take small comfort in imagining them on a long-haul flight in the aftermath of sexy party.

and they say the gays have got it tough...

*after which they will jaunt around southern france and northern spain. you know, just for kicks.

achtung

2007-05-10T10:50:00.000+10:00

always the germans with their cannibalism and their fascism and their self-decapitation.

hallowed halls

2007-05-08T11:43:00.000+10:00

i've been thinking lately that universities are like little countries. with all the fussing and cussing over the melbourne model, i'm reminded that while they seek to emulate the profit-margins of corporations, they are still something more. like a little country, a university has levels of government, laws, customs, cultural clashes/unions/diversity, entry requirements, values [tests], sovereignty, and lots of little people, going about their business, not paying attention to much beyond the end of their noses.

people might want them to be businesses, but they're mostly unwilling to let go of the "public" idea. "the public" still has a lot to say about how universities should operate, despite accommodating themselves to the idea of fees. i feel like these ideas are in tension. if unis are a business, then we reconcile ourselves to the fact that corporations [while we wish otherwise] have no responsibility to the public good. if they're more than that, if they're crucial to the development of better societies, intellectual capital, liberal democracy, then they need to be above the fray of the market. they need proper funding to ensure academic freedom and more equitable access.

i've often railed about universities being turned into pre-vocational training units. i reckon that business should be "taught" in commercial colleges, along with hospitality, marketing and other vocations that used to be learned 'on the job'. why should precious university funding [hence public money] be spent on training that used to be the responsibility of industry? there's also a good argument for teaching and nursing to be taught in separate colleges as well [as in nz, where you head there after undergrad]. maybe the academy is buckling under the weight of education that it shouldn't/needn't offer? for instance, should creative writing be taught at uni? can it?

what do you think? is education a commodity? i think some kinds are.

le sigh

2007-05-07T12:58:00.000+10:00

je suis désolé.

three things

2007-05-02T16:53:00.000+10:00

things have been a little glum round here of late, so i thought i'd share three things that i'm loving right now.

northern exposure: seriously, maggie and joel are adorable. but the beautiful thing about such a tight ensemble cast is that i can never decide who is my favourite. sometimes it's ruth-ann, the salty old mama, or shelly, the unknowingly [but unendingly] wise sexbomb, but holling and maurice's man-love tickles me too. chris and ed make me smile inside and marilyn is a hoot. i've often thought that seachange owes a lot to cicely, alaska. anyway, rent it. it's good.

vanity fair - the 2nd green issue: i used this to teach a class today. we were covering the social movements of the sixties [the wimmin, the gays, the ethnics etc] and i posited that, of the major campaigns, the environmental movement was in the best shape today.* when you've got leonardo dicaprio on the cover of vanity fair with knut the polar bear, i'd say it's part of the zeitgeist. thanks al. anyway, read it. it's good.

the lives of others: a quietly explosive film set in [when else?] 1984, East Berlin, GDR. it observes the stasi observing others and in doing so, tallies some of the human cost of the soviet experiment. showing restraint, the film does not depict the stasi as violent killers or standover men, rather we see the cold efficiency of surveillance; its effect on human relationships, mental stability, trust. i thought about orwell obviously, but mostly about burmese days - like colonialism, communism was as corrosive to the oppressor as the oppressed. anyway, see it. it's good.

ah, i feel so much better. it's awfully twee but i find that no matter how down i am, i can always think of three things.

*this was also to highlight the parlous state of feminism, race relations, and the general backlash against political correctness.

in fairness...

2007-04-28T17:16:00.000+10:00

...to the author, and me, there was a good reason for reading shantaram to begin with. it's all about the first page. here 'tis:

'It took me a long time and most of the world to learn what I know about love and fate and the choices we make, but the heart of it came to me in an instant, while I was chained to a wall and being tortured. I realized, somehow, through the screaming in my mind, that even in that shackled, bloody helplessness, I was still free: free to hate the men who were torturing me, or to forgive them. It doesn’t sound like much, I know. But in the flinch and bite of the chain, when it’s all you’ve got, that freedom is a universe of possibility. And the choice you make, between hating and forgiving, can become the story of your life.

In my case, it’s a long story, and a crowded one. I was a revolutionary who lost his ideals in heroin, a philosopher who lost his integrity in crime, and a poet who lost his soul in a maximum-security prison. When I escaped from that prison, over the front wall, between two gun-towers, I became my country’s most wanted man. Luck ran with me and flew with me across the world to India, where I joined the Bombay mafia. I worked as a gunrunner, a smuggler, and a counterfeiter. I was chained on three continents, beaten, stabbed, and starved. I went to war. I ran into the enemy guns. And I survived, while other men around me died. They were better men than I am, most of them: better men whose lives were crunched up in mistakes, and thrown away by the wrong second of someone else’s hate, or love, or indifference. And I buried them, too many of those men, and grieved their stories and their lives into my own.

But my story doesn’t begin with them, or with the mafia: it goes back to that first day in Bombay. Fate put me in the game there. Luck dealt the cards that led me to Karla Saaranen. And I started to play it out, that hand, from the first moment I looked into her green eyes. So it begins, this story, like everything else—with a woman, and a city, and a little bit of luck.'

not bad, eh?

chapter twenty-four

2007-04-27T16:03:00.000+10:00

'At midnight's horizon the great milky wheel of stars rose wet and shivering from the waves, and the silver yellow light of a gibbous moon settled on the sea, glistening the tinsel-crested swell.'

and that right there, ladies and gentlemen, is when i officially lost my desire to [live? keep my eyes in my head?] continue reading shantaram.

lest we forget

2007-04-26T12:38:00.000+10:00

i attended my first dawn service in melbourne yesterday. given that the original ceremonies attracted a few hundred people and this one involved thousands, it was impossible to actually see anything. from an event-management/performance perspective, it fails dismally, but i got the vibe. there was singing and guns and that incredibly touching ode to the soliders. the service was overwhelmingly male, anglo, imperial and christian but remarkably, there were still opportunities to be genuinely moved.

i had a lot of pontificating planned today. i was going to make an argument that anzac day itself is not objectionable and that we do need a day or two a year to consider the human cost of war. i wanted to talk about keating and kokoda versus howard and gallipoli, and show that kokoda for so many reasons deserves more of our attention and reverence. it happened in our region, we were genuinely threatened, [in however fraught and patronising relationships] australian soldiers worked not only alongside americans but also the locals, and WE WON. keating thought kokoda more in tune with our engagement with asia, our alliance with the usa, and our crucial contribution to a war that was about freedom and democracy [not imperial boundaries and treaties and offings of archdukes].

then i read this article in the yesterday's age* and thought you should just look at that instead.

*as recommended to me by my tassie correspondent and finder of all things flanagan.

look what the cat dragged in

2007-04-24T14:10:00.000+10:00

i return. i wasn't having a crisis or anything, blog-related or otherwise, i just became...disaffected? disconnected? i kept starting posts and finding the transition from thoughts to words most unsatisfactory. no biggie. just...bad reception.

things that irritated me while i was away:

bloody bush defending the 2nd amendment WITHIN 24 HOURS OF A DEADLY SHOOTING SPREE.

adam "dropped at birth" selwood cleared at the tribunal after explaining himself. he says he was 'deeply hurt, offended, and defamed by some of the accusations', and that he 'never meant to offend des and his family'. well, you did mean to, didn't you? you meant to call that woman a slut, thinking that it was more likely his partner, didn't you, adam? i'd say that qualifies as trying to 'hurt des and his family'. so you didn't mean to insult a six year old girl, just call into question the value of a woman, and by proxy all women, to distract your opponent. and you know what? in my experience, guys who get massive tattoos of somebody's face on their bodies are special kinds of guys, you know? if a man is sporting a massive tattoo of any person on their arm, and you insult that image, you're prolly gonna get your lights punched out. in this case, it was thoroughly deserved. you are weak as piss.

speaking of weak as piss/the west coast eagles/the toxic culture of the afl, ben cousins is apparently coming home after five minutes in vegas. did i say vegas? i meant rehab.

big brother gets the ratings it deserves [and i dream about].

two young women end their lives in a suicide pact, reminding us of what we all learnt once - everything feels a hundred times worse when you're a teenager. in-depth reporting of this tragedy turned to myspace for answers. for fuck's.

oh, kevin.

but i'm sure there's some good stuff going on. anyone?

vale vonnegut

2007-04-12T16:02:00.000+10:00

the new york times has the best obituaries. they reminded me that vonnegut thought the only antidote to the cruelty and vice and madness of the world was a simple one: be sweet to each other. dinitia smith muses that...

the title character in his 1965 novel, "god bless you, mr. rosewater", summed up his philosophy:

"hello babies. welcome to earth. it's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. it's round and wet and crowded. at the outside, babies, you've got about a hundred years here. there's only one rule that i know of, babies - 'god damn it, you've got to be kind.' "

that's it.

enforcing civility

2007-04-10T10:18:00.000+10:00

some of you may've been following the brouhaha about bloghaviour that erupted recently, after a high profile blogger and techie, kathy sierra, received death threats in the comments section of her blog. there's a short precis here if you're interested. in the aftermath, a heated discussion has taken place online and elsewhere about the civility of bloggers, the root causes of this particular brand of misogyny, and the plausibility of a blogging 'code of conduct'.

it's not novel to ask questions about sexism in the i.t. industry, and by proxy, on the web. obviously, it's a continuum that runs from a lack of familiarity with women due to their absence, through to rampant misogyny. but isn't that the same as many industries/society as a whole? and isn't the web made by some intangible "us"?

leaving aside the charge of sexism for a moment [or rather, let's assume that sexism is as rampant on the web as anywhere], the question then becomes a more prosaic one; one that has plagued us forever and always will - why are some people such cunts?

here in "cyberspace" [i love that word as it reminds me of a time before we knew what it was*, a la total recall], the problem seems to linked to anonymity. if nobody knows who you are, you will almost certainly say things that you wouldn't ordinarily say. i know i have. i'd wager we all have. it's an almost irresistible urge to get away with something.

but i can honestly say that i've never flamed anyone. if i read something egregiously offensive, i hit the little x at the top right of my screen. think how much easier life would be if you could do that to the sleazy guy on the tram or the rude waiter from tin pot hell? if i'm offended by someone i give two craps about, i think about how to express that, and then tell them in a clear and, hopefully, respectful way. is this because i am a veritable pollyanna, with nothing but good thoughts of sweetness and light? obviously not. it's because there's no point in engaging with people when they're being cunts. or if they actually are cunts. or if they're doing a good impersonation of a cunt. honestly, who believes that solid data and reasoned argument would change andrew bolt's mind? i'm not averse to withering criticism or even invective. i can be very spiteful about john and george and keith and andrew. i just wouldn't seek someone out to give them my thoughts on how awful they are.

by contrast, i've seen bloggers unleash some fucked up shit on the world. ms fits and jessculture have had their share of unbelievably ugly abuse. audrey, petstarr, fluffy and other lovelies have also been targeted by professional arsehats. but guess what? a nasty piece of work online is just a nasty piece of work. and i've yet to meet someone who fakes an adorable, sweet, and love-filled disposition here, only to be revealed as a spiteful cow in the flesh. why would they? and why would a witty and cool and clever person get a kick out of being a shallow, bilious blogger?

i guess what i'm saying is, i don't think you can enforce civil behaviour among bloggers any more than you can in everyday life. people are sometimes very, very shit. and other times they'll make your heart sing with their kindness and warmth and way with words. but still more of the time, they pass you by with nary a glance.

you win some, you lose some. but all those in between are being very civil [without being told to].

*we still don't know what "it" is.

get this

2007-04-04T15:44:00.000+10:00

via get up.

is there any end to their bastardry?

do please sign the petition and spread the word [make sure it won't affect your enrolment either]. if you can't be bothered, imagine another few years of this government...then gather yourself, breathe deeply, and say "no".

file this under "f" also

2007-04-03T13:51:00.000+10:00

...FOR FUN.

the last attempt at a blogscursion was foiled by bad weather and our rapidly waning interest in seeing snakes on a motherfucking plane once the opening weekend revealed the full extent of its shitfulness. this proposition involves a bigger commitment on your part than even getting [in]to the coburg drive-in without a car. transport-wise, it may be easier to get yourself to imax tomorrow night to see 300 on the mega-enormous screen. however, the screening time of midnight may deter the responsible among us [read: lightweights], who need a full night's sleep in order to complete their thursday business.

so, that's midnight wednesday at imax - cgi carnage for all!

at this stage, we've got a smallish crew of three [which works out to a neat hundred spartans each] but if you'd like to come along, you absolutely should/are welcome.

you don't even need your parents to sign a form. and what's one thursday in a haze of no-sleep-itis? you know you wanna...

p.s. i just called imax and they are nearly sold out of tickets so get online if you wanna come.

UPDATE: also, i just discovered that we need to all get there early/together for allocation of seats, as the tickets are not seat-specific and we might get flung around in far corners of a cavernous theatre and then i might cry as i'm quite scared of the dark. so, i reckon we all book our tickets online/by phone, then we turn up for seat allocation together on the early side [maybe 10ish], and then decamp for a espresso martinis until the witching hour.

file under "f"

2007-04-02T14:03:00.000+10:00

in a stunning display of maturity and insight, malcolm turnbull wonders aloud if this whole david-hicks-plea-bargain-bizzo isn't just a cunning plan to hurt howard's election chances.

quite so, malcolm, quite so.

i'm sure that david hicks [IF THAT IS INDEED HIS REAL NAME] has cleverly devised all manner of tactic to get the liberals voted out [and all from within the privacy of his very own cell - lots of free time to narrow his eyes and stroke his chin menacingly]. why, we know he would resort to violence if necessary, but this kind of sneaky underhanded mind-shrink is also to be expected from a terrorist mastermind.

i mean, has anyone ever listened to "major" mori's speeches played backwards?

what hour?

2007-04-02T09:28:00.000+10:00

i was in the shower on sunday morning when i had a strange thought: 'wasn't i supposed to have a bath last night?'. i couldn't think for a minute why i had been "planning" a bath and not had one. then i remembered. oh fuck. we forgot about earth hour. i thought about how we could forget something that we'd been talking about all day and i put it down to the flu-like symptoms that beset us as the weekend commenced [house=petri dish].

but here's the punchline...guess what we were doing from 7.30 to 8.30, the exact period of earth hour, thoroughly engrossed and oblivious to all around us?

we were watching top gear.

lady, i don't think you need to worry about about me turning green.

switching off

2007-03-29T14:35:00.000+10:00

is anyone interested in this?

i hadn't heard anything about it til my crazy uncle [the nice one] sent me a link. looks like the sydney/melbourne divide is alive and well. or maybe it's just a naff idea and nobody likes it.

what to do you reckon? i think i'll do it. maybe i'll take frank for a walk or soak in a candle-lit bath for a spell.

i wonder if laptops count...

good moon risin'

2007-03-27T14:39:00.000+10:00

where to start?

in good news for the union movement [and by proxy, australian workers] the combet rumour was a false alarm. we may all hope he changes his mind one day.

kev continues to make hay while the sun shines. howard's attempts to refocus attention on national security were transparent - there was far more coverage of broadband for all, and the treasurer's criticism of the "future fund raid" backfired. badly. not to mention the revelation about what the future fund was earmarked for. taxpayers love that stuff.

as for the burke fracas, the best thing to come out of that [apart from deepening disillusionment with howard among even his supporters] was the trip down memory lane with the man himself.

and in a hollow victory, david hicks may be home soon.

what else?

oh, and...

i thought i would be a democrat...

2007-03-21T14:17:00.000+11:00

not that i have voted for them in a long time but that's what i thought i'd be. apparently not.

who said it?

2007-03-21T13:55:00.000+11:00

from a column in today's paper...

NOT even John Howard's stunts now work.

Or, rather, it's only the Prime Minister's stunts that aren't working. Consider his month of mishaps.

Howard attacks the integrity of Labor leader Kevin Rudd, only to find his dodgy minister, Santo Santoro, hid 72 share deals he should have disclosed. He berates Rudd for meeting with the disgraced Brian Burke, only to find another of his own ministers, Ian Campbell, met the Labor fixer, too. He flies to Iraq for nice pictures of him cheering up the troops, only to be filmed scrambling out of a Hercules filling with smoke.

Two ministers lost, Iraq up in smoke and ageing Howard on the run. Terrible imagery.

[and later]

Now Labor has an intelligent, moderate, energetic and articulate leader at last, with a message we haven't heard enough of - of optimism. People want to hear what he has to offer, and don't want to be sidetracked.

I'm afraid -- actually I'm delighted -- that the Liberals' best chance of winning again will come down to something very basic. They'll just have to offer better policies than Labor, and better leadership.

So forget stunts. Forget mock outrage, abuse and hyped-up claims. Forget sudden multi-billion promises of the too-clever kind that come with free steak knives. And especially forget running off smoking planes.

The election will come down to voters simply choosing between the policies of the Coalition and Labor, and between Howard and Rudd. It's the choice we demand. It's a choice we deserve.

bloody hell.

meet me tonight in atlantic city

2007-03-19T09:33:00.000+11:00

imagine you were looking ever so much forward to a BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN TRIBUTE NIGHT at the tote and it also happened to be the night your father flies in unexpectedly and insists on taking you and your new husband out to dinner. i guess i could've said i was busy when he called last night [I WAS, DAD, I NEARLY SAID SO] but i imagine my enjoyment of the boss and his awesomeness would be severely curtailed if i knew my dad was sitting in the sofitel getting shickered by himself. of course, i could've also sent the android along on a solo mission to do some male bonding but i don't think he's ready for one-on-one time with big al and besides that's just cruel.

so if anyone goes to the tote tonight, at 7.30, for the barlight cinema, to witness interviews with bruce and the band and other rare screen footage, and generally swoon and scream and maybe even faint, let me know how excellent it was.

actually, don't.

fun ahoy

2007-03-16T12:50:00.000+11:00

as well as parlour games, board games, and plummy, twee, outdoor games like badminton and bocce, i also love rides. you know, where you pay your money and get in a little carriage and get hurtled around a track very fast or very slow, depending on what the ride-makers want you to see along the way? i've been to disneyland and universal studios, and was quite uninterested in anything that wasn't a ride. i would get off the space mountain rollercoaster and walk immediately to the end of the queue to go again. i spent a good deal of three days in the queue for space mountain, actually, and it was completely worth it. i've been on rides at dreamworld, sea world, movieworld, expo 88, the ekka*, luna park, ocean park in hong kong, the old tops at the myer centre in brisbane - i even went on rides at dodgy local shows like pittsworth and roma and mt isa. i really shouldn't trust the carnies but i do BECAUSE I LOVE RIDES.

i tell you this because tonight i'm going to the imax cinema for the first time, mostly because i realised that it'll be rather like a ride. and as i've gotten older, i don't get to go on rides so much anymore. i hate going to rna shows now, and last time i took my little cousins to luna park, i was actually a bit scared by the unsafe-lookingness of it all. another consequence of becoming an old lady - you begin to have more concern for your safety/well-being/limbs.** so for now, imax it is.

i've never been to imax. we're seeing haunted castle [IN 3D WOW WHAT WILL THEY THINK OF NEXT?] at the spooky time of 10. at night. are you scared or what i certainly would be if i believed in supernatural phenomena. but i ain't afraid of no ghost. and besides, bustin' makes me feel good.

p.s. check the "plot". i'm excited.

*how hilariously dirt is their site? aah, takes me back...

**i'm sure there's also something there about being "in control" ie. the younger person could care less about surrendering control over the situation and enjoys the unpredictability of someone else in charge. or something. i dunno. it's more the rickety ones that worry me now. i'd still totally waste all my time at disneyland on space mountain.

who knew #2?*

2007-03-14T15:28:00.000+11:00

the bill of rights is actually just the first ten amendments to the american constitution. these were/are, in order:

1st - freedom of speech, assembly, religion, the press, and petition
2nd - right to bear arms
3rd - protection from the billeting of troops
4th - protection from unreasonable search and arrest
5th - double jeopardy, due process, self-incrimination and private property
6th - rights of the accused, including trial by jury
7th - trial by jury in civil cases worth over twenty dollars [allowing for inflation]
8th - reasonable bail and protection from cruel and unusual punishment
9th - protection of rights not covered in the bill of rights
10th - states rights

the first is nice, isn't it? we like that one. obviously, the fifth is the biggie. that's the one most people are familiar with, due to its ubiquity in pop culture representations. "pleading the fifth", or the right to remain silent, is a good protection to have if ever you're accused of something [whether you did it or not]. but did you know that the fifth also covered double jeopardy [can't be tried for the same crime twice], due process and property rights? i didn't.

the second amendment is a hoot. here it is in full...

A well regulated Militia being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the People to keep and bear Arms shall not be infringed.

i'm pretty sure that all those americans running around with their very own guns are not part of a "well-regulated militia". not sure that america needs one so much now, what with the POLICE FORCE, NATIONAL GUARD AND A MILITARY CONSISTING OF A STANDING ARMY, NAVY AND AIR FORCE. but hey, they don't wanna wear selt-belts either. and who are we to say otherwise?

the third basically says that if there's a war, and the government needs to move some soldiers into your house, they need to ask your permission first. it also suggests that they really shouldn't be using your house as barracks during peacetime. phew!

my favourite, though, is the ninth amendment. it's saying 'hey! you have other rights that we haven't thought of/can't fit on here. if you have other rights under any other laws, then we'll honour them using this ninth amendment.' it's kinda like "insert individual right here __________." bless.

the united states went on to add tons more amendments to its constitution, including famous ones like the abolition of slavery [13th], women's suffrage [19th, not til 1920!], prohibition [1919, repealed 1933, the 18th and 21st] and two-term presidents [22nd in 1951].

by contrast, australians don't like their constitution being fucked with [discussed, or even read], which might be because ours pretty much protects the rights of corporations and states, as opposed to individuals. there are only three rights that are constitutionally guaranteed to australian citizens: just compensation for private property seized, trial by jury, and freedom of religion. of course, we're also deeply suspicious of centralised power and grand statements of intent. we didn't blood our country in a revolutionary war, and we weren't in any hurry to codify our rights and responsibilities as australians [we took steps in 1901, 1931, 1942, and 1986]. we still don't have our own head of state.

do you think we need our own bill of rights?

*with apologies to those who a] knew this stuff already, or b] don't care so deeply for americana as i do.

a letter from st paul

2007-03-06T12:35:00.000+11:00

"In a brief but colourful foray into political life today, Mr Keating referred to Treasurer Peter Costello as "all tip and no iceberg" and Prime Minister John Howard as a dessicated coconut."

jesus

2007-03-05T11:02:00.000+11:00

...

so much better

2007-03-02T15:17:00.000+11:00

feeling much improved today and ready to share.

michael mori is a truly wonderful specimen [this is a nice way to spend some time with him]. bonnie commented that he appears to us like a hero from another time. i'd agree. he's unreasonably good-looking, in an old hollywood kind of way. but i think part of it is the uniform - it never lets us forget that he is a united states marine, representing an australian citizen, putting the pursuit of justice before code and country. he's telling us, with his actions, that there are higher ideals than those that underpin the united states and its military. he's talking about human rights and the rule of law and he won't shut up.

completely self-effacing and charming beyond belief, he has all the charisma and eloquence of a trial lawyer [ironic, given david hicks can't get a trial] without sacrificing any of his appeal as the all-american-boy-next-door. he was given a standing ovation when he entered the theatre, which was followed by another one, replete with cheers and whoops, at the close of proceedings - it was after this one that he appeared genuinely moved. we also heard julian burnside, masterful as usual, and larissa behrendt, who was impressive and easily a match for the formidable men with whom she shared the stage.

burnside reminded us that, while appearing to be resolved, the issue of asylum seekers and their appalling treatment is still as urgent as ever. he also did his level best to provoke a defamation suit from either ruddock, howard or downer [he doesn't care which]. he pointed out that neither he nor robert richter had been sued because ruddock wouldn't dare put himself in a courtroom to defend his reputation, as this would ensure a public airing of his worst excesses, something he will avoid at any cost. genius.

larissa behrendt [check this woman! smart as a whip and foxy as hell] delivered a passionate plea to end indigenous disadvantange in our lifetime. she outlined the ease with which the media continues to focus on horrific instances of abuse in indigenous communities [especially remote ones] without questioning the structural causes of them, and without acknowledging the success stories of aboriginal australia. she made an excellent comparison between drought-afflicted farmers and indigenous townships, both fighting for special treatment and sympathy, where one group is presented as an integral part of our national history [and so worthy of assistance] and the other demonised for incompetence and dysfunction. i'm not doing her argument justice but you get the idea. she was amazing.

but michael mori was the star attraction and he didn't disappoint. he stayed on-message [bring david home] and reminded us that australia is the only country to have endorsed the military commissions that david hicks now faces. he told us that among many other countries, iran has gotten its guys out, and that even the us military acknowledges that no american citizen would ever be subjected to this system. so it's not good enough for americans, brits, indonesians, or iranians, but david hicks remains at its mercy. mori is absolutely convinced that if howard requested it, david hicks could return to australia immediately. this is what he's fighting for.

oh, and his middle name is dante. couldn't you just die?

so yeah

2007-03-01T12:06:00.000+11:00

nothing much to see here. i wish i had the time or energy or inclination to tell you all about life's goings on but i don't.

i can tell you that we're going to line up to see major michael mori this afternoon. he's talking at fed square with julian burnside and larissa behrendt about australia's human rights obligations/violations. after seeing him on insight, i'd say he'll be bloody good.

maybe we'll see you there...

hottegories

2007-02-23T08:57:00.000+11:00

another of my favourite parlour games is hottegories. it is not in any way shallow. it requires you to engage with the complexity of the human condition by attempting to quantify desire. in other words, what makes ____ hot?

exhibit a:

following on from audrey's expose, i might say zach braff is hot. he's funny jewish hot.

jon stewart is funny jewish silver-fox smart hot.

woody allen is funny jewish old creepy hot. who else is creepy hot?

ah, prince. creepy androgynous hot. back to funny jewish hot...

safran. but he's also quite obviously geek hot. geek hot is a large hottegory including this guy.

and as elaine alluded to yesterday, our kevvie may be termed lefty intellectual old hot. i think so.

it's hard to find a good picture of him. unlike this fellow...

david marr is lefty intellectual old gay hot. on the other side of the coin...

right-wing hot is a small hottegory so far limited to p.j. o'rourke [who is also funny intellectual old hot].

consider now those who qualify for inclusion in many hottegories at once, like james gandolfini. he is, of course, wog hot, like

and

de niro is old wog hot [menacing hot may also be accurate]. but gandolfini is old fat balding wog hot. notice that some of those traits may be considered handicaps in other people but are part of the appeal of gandolfini.

over to you...

it's [about bloody] time

2007-02-22T12:05:00.000+11:00

i had a vague idea of never posting again, and leaving that last one up forever so we could all play digging the dirt together til the end of days. perhaps i'll introduce another parlour game soon.

in the meantime, don't you just love reading the paper/watching the news/hearing about your friend's dad this week? i got an excitable text [YES, THAT'S RIGHT A TEXT, FROM HE OF THE NO MOBILE PHONE, til now] about kevvie's performance on lateline last night. when i think of all the inroads he's made, all the wins of the last few weeks and months, i do get a bit tingly. i'm annoyed because i think we could've had someone better than kelvin thompson handling the hicks case for the opposition, and peter garrett has faltered, but tanya plibersek recently rocked my world by shredding mal brough live on air, and joe hockey most often looks the prat he is against julia. all in all, i think team kev and jules is on fire.

but more importantly, howard is on the back foot. increasingly frequent gaffes, out-and-out mistakes, and that general look of anxiety and confusion, are all very good signs. if you remember last time, latham had very good days, but howard didn't have so many bad ones on the trot.

he's rattled. and we like it.

digging the dirt

2007-02-15T22:53:00.000+11:00

those of you who know me will be aware of my penchant for parlour games. this is one we have been quite obsessed with lately. beware its power to take over your brain. you've been warned.

it's rather like the 'love/hate', 'would you rather?', or 'death is not an option' amusements, where the only way to explain the rules is to play by example. here goes:

gary busey is the dirt nick nolte.

naomi watts is the dirt nicole kidman.

lawrence fishburne is the dirt samuel l jackson.

you see how, in making these assertions, i am unconstrained by logic and rational deduction. some things just are as they are. this is not to say that discussions don't become heated. in the best tradition of its 'love/hate' cousin, 'digging the dirt' can expose our tastes in a brutal way, opening us up to all kinds of shame. it can also, on occasion, cause great offence. for example, ruby was so upset by my nicole/naomi comparison [hopelessly in love with la watts that he is] that he conjured up an absurd notion that ryan adams was the dirt bruce springsteen. this is, of course, patently untrue. because if you wanted to be factually correct as well as nasty, you'd have to say he was actually the dirt gram parsons. but i digress.

we've had some controversies. i was howled down for suggesting that hugo weaving was the dirt sam neill. i also believe that russell crowe is the dirt jack thompson. and is anna nicole smith the dirt marilyn monroe? does this give her too much credit? is it too soon to ask this?

and in a stunning rhetorical manouevre, the android postulates that some people are the dirt of themselves - he tendered mark hamill, we agreed on william shatner, i'm now wondering if we can call "dirt-on-dirt" status for madonna, bono and michael jackson. he also insists that there is a dirt continuum, on which variables may be plotted in a hierarchy. i would venture that tara reid is the dirt kimberley stewart is the dirt mischa barton, for example. i'll let him tell you about the non-hierarchical taxonomy that is sometimes in evidence.

also, in playing this game, you 'll find that some people [cool or not] are the platonic ideal and all others will be the dirt version of them [unless they are inimitable]. johnny depp is a case in point. many others [yes, i'm looking at you, orlando bloom] will be the dirt johnny depp but he'll never be the dirt of anyone else. sometimes you have to admit that a platonic ideal exists even if you think they're awful. witness paris hilton.

remember, this game includes in its purview, but is not limited to, digging the dirt on celebrities. but the possibilities are endless. northcote is the dirt fitzroy. crunchie is the dirt violet crumble. coldplay is the dirt radiohead. if sydney is the dirt los angeles, then surely melbourne is the dirt new york [i think we got the better deal]. the wedge is the dirt comedy company, just as surely as home and away is the dirt neighbours.

i must stop now. over to you...