Sunday, December 31, 2006

The Ashes - who gives a flying shit?

I'm not a cricket fan. Never have been, never will be. The idea of spending hours in the sun blinking and trying to see a ball and the sheer boredom a game can provide non cricket fans just makes me sick.

And the Ashes. I mean holy fucking shit. They're not even the real ashes. They're some fake jobby from the 30's or something. Honestly I would rather stab pins into my leg than watch a test. Let alone one about the Ashes.

Does that make me un-Australian? Probably. I pretty much don't like any organised sport. Call it a legacy from enforced sportage from a private school where I had no choice, was routinely mocked for my lack of abilities, and when one lesson I walked out on a class after some fuckwit made fun of my weight I was yelled at by a knuckle dragging would-be-newcomb mo holder screaming about how I had to suck it up despite the fact I couldn't play fucking sport because I had bung fucking knees you sadistic mother fuckers.

Anyway, the Ashes. For those that like, all the more power to you. But tell me this. Why the fuck do the fucking news reports on the weekend have to be all sport from about 13 minutes onward?

Paul McGeough of Fairfax's view on the death of Saddam

Despot's death won't make mess any better
December 31, 2006

The Iraq war unleashed ethnic and sectarian forces suppressed by Saddam, and the genies can't be put back in the bottle, writes Paul McGeough.

When it came, the news was quite stunning. Despite all the certainty that Saddam Hussein would swing from the hangman's noose, the first reports confirming that he was just another of the corpses that litter liberated Iraq was a powerful reminder that justice of some kind catches up with all.

For the rest see here

2006 - a personal look back

News services love to pull out their tapes of the past year and have montage sequences of events of import from the past 12 months, then play them at the end of the news broadcast (or even in an entire special) usually along to some stirring music, like Orf's Carmina Burana.

No, wait, that track was used by Channel 7 for it's 'End of Gulf War One' montage sequence back in 91', complete with tasty green images of bomb sights dropping explosives on people.

What's your 2006 montage sequence like? Me, hmmmm.

Storming out on a morning tea because of homophobic statements by my mentally challenged co-worker

Getting the 'you failed fatty' results of my one job interview for the year, followed up by another 'we don't care your referee report was a stab in the back, you're still fat, fuck off' missive after I queried their reasoning why.

Finishing my last (ever) exam with a 27 page corker, coming out with a death grip like I'd been first, third, and the wooden spooner in a competition that's all about self relief.

The Master's ceremony, having snuck in a Time magazine to read during the boring bits (hee hee).

Razzing Lord Soth whilst playing a Kender bard named Quock Salotl, duck friend and surviving [Nerd reference]

Sitting on the toilet for tens of minutes at a time whilst grappling with IBS and wondering if I was going to have a heart attack like Elvis. [But I did come up with the PAG acronym (Poo After-Glow) for a really successful bowel movement].

Blogging - sometimes amused, but mostly outraged by fucked up shit that goes on in our crazy planet.

Discovering the internet phenomenon that is Chuck Norris.

Naomi Robson fucked off from our TV screen - that's kewl.

Watching shitloads of DVDs (from Ebay) with the wife (best person ever to watch things with).

Nuzzling my cats.

Beaconsfield was a pretty awesome moment, seeing the lads come out of the mine live(ish). Even if it was ruined by the media.

Ahhh, Bush getting his anus worked over by the Dems in the mid-terms. That rawked. I had a cheesy grin on my face for days.

Seeing family at Xmas even if some of it was a tad annoying (as all family can be).

That's about it. Pretty sad really. Fuck it, I'm hungry, I'm going to have breakfast.

(Dunt dunt dunt dunt)

Pulls out bread

(Dunt dunt dunt dunt)

Puts it in toaster

(Dunt dunt dunt dunt dunt)

Pops it down

(Dunt dunt dunt dunt)

Gets out butter

(Dunt dunt dunt dunt)

Gets jam etc

Hey - Carmina Burana works for anything!

The Turtles release Candle-in-the-Wind style remake to celebrate killing of Saddam

Bright and bubbly 60's era pop group, The Turtles, today came out with a tribute to the hanging of Saddam Hussein and said his death made everyone feel much better, even if it was applied unfairly in unjust circumstances.

'The death penalty isn't about fairness of legal procedure, or even fundamental morality like ending slavery was,' trilled an overly happy front man for the band. 'It's red eyed stringing up the bastard that what rustled yer cattle or tried to kill your pa or who executed your entire family and buried them in a mass grave justice. Even if that justice isn't really just and just begets a cycle of death. And that the happiness is fleeting. But I say bring it on terrorists. Cause we're fighting them over there so we don't have to fight them here. Mission Accomplished.'

The front man said that Elton John's reworking of his Candle-in-the-Wind lyrics inspired him to do over 'Happy Together' because to him, his momentary happiness that Saddam was dead meant that he could cash in big time on the death of the murderous US backed tyrant, and he was happy now that the Iraqi people could have closure as hundreds continued to die daily in murderous ethnic fuelled violence that had been held in check by Saddam's rule much the same way Yugoslavia was under Tito.

'No one could foresee that this would happen when the US disbanded the army, sacked all the government public servants because they were Ba'athists (even though they had to be) creating ideal circumstances for the failure of governance and unchecked insurgency, and that the oppressed Shia and Kurds would take revenge on their brutal Sunni overlords who likewise would respond the extreme violence in an effort to retain some measure of control in the new Iraqi post Saddam world,' said the geo-politically challenged front man. 'Least Fox news never mentioned it as a possibility. Besides I think we should just 'shut up' and let the president do his job even if it did mean killing hundreds of thousands of innocents and likely result in Iraq splintering along ethnic lines in an orgy of death that has not been seen since the disintegration of former European states following the Cold War. Fortunately our brave President, whose reading of 'The Pet Goat' still tugs at my heart, will never ever have to face questions over his role in this - nor will those members of previous administrations that backed Hussein such as Donald Rumsfeld. After-all, haven't they suffered enough?'

The front man then launched into the re-penned classic with gusto, then destroyed some Dixie Chicks CDs because they dared speak ill of the president.

Imagine me and you, I do
Hanging Saddam Hussein
It's only right
To think about the noose around his neck
And holding him tight
So happy hanging Saddy
If I should call you up
Invest a dime
And you say you come with me
And hang Saddam
Imagine how the world could be
So very fine
So happy hanging Saddy
I can't see me hanging Saddam without you
For all my life
When you're with me
Baby his neck will break
And end his life
Me and you
And you and me
No matter if he shits himself
As he dies
The smell of faecal stink
Rising up
At the gallows
Me and you
And you and me
Dancing in the streets
With tickle me Saddy dolls
Wearing nooses
And you for me
So happy together
Me and you
And you and me
No matter how they stretched his neck
It had to be
The only one for me is you
And you for me
So happy together
So happy together
How is the weather
So happy together
We're happy together
So happy together...

Hanging Saddam Makes Me Happy

You see, the important thing when it comes to the morality of the death penalty, that a lot of its exponents think is a justification, is increased happiness.

'Think of the victims!' they shriek, then dance around arm in arm in the manner of Irish-in-steerage-Titanic style when a perp is executed.

Of course the added benefit is that it brings everyone back to life, their health improves, their eyesight better, their fetlocks firm and pleasant, and basically everything across the board is better. And they stay happy for a really long time.

Vengence. It's the best part of the legal system. Especially when its applied unfairly and with lots of passion like shooting members of the defence team.

God bless everyone who believes in the death penalty. Because it's the best thing ever. Why? Because it makes people happy. And if that's the only reason to have it well that's good enough for me.

BTW I'm not arguing on the merits of the death penalty. I've done that time and time again. You want to wank on with your 'kill 'em all and let Gawd sort it out' bullshit go find those posts and stick your 0.02 there.

Do I believe killing Saddam will likely result in his becoming a martyr and increasing the cycle of death in Iraq? Yes, yes I do.

Did I sound like Rumsfeld just then when I asked a rhetorical question? Yes, yes I did.

Was the US partially responsible for the support of Saddam Hussein right up until he invaded Kuwait thanks to people like Rumsfeld? Yes, yes he was.

Will he ever face trail for assisting a murderous dictator kill his own people? No, no he won't.

Saturday, December 30, 2006

Bush wows fancy dress Saddam Hanging party with Rummy Costume

President George Bush reportedly impressed onlookers with his Donald Rumsfeld outfit at his celebratory Lynch Party held to watch live as Saddam Hussein was hanged for crimes against humanity, his appeal denied despite the fact that over 50 people connected with the trial were murdered on both sides during the legal endeavour and that most legal observers claimed the former president did not receive a fair trial and as such undermined the fair application of justice in Iraq.

‘Now, I told ya, I told ya you had to come as something to do with Saddy [Saddam] Hussein,’ said an obviously excited Bush. ‘And I remembered, I remembered how Rummy done gone and met Saddy back when he was our son’of’a’bitch and killin’ all them Iranians like what we wanted them to. So I figures – heh heh – I come as him!’

Left: Rummy's meeting with Saddam inspired the choice of first costume.

The President took centre stage on the first family couch, a snugly Barney held on his splayed lap, and whooped as Saddam dropped through the trapdoor, the aging Arabic dictator’s body jerking spasmodically as the last life ebbed from his bearded body.

‘Woo!’ shouted President Bush. ‘You see him dance? Dance boy!’ President Bush said he hadn’t been this excited since that bitch Karla Fay Tucker bit the big one, and that of all the 152 executions he personally signed the death order for while Texas governor hers had been his favourite.

‘Please don’t kill me Mr Bush,’ he mimicked in a high panicked voice as he reminded assembled guests of that awesome ‘hang’em’high’ moment.

‘That’s for trying to kill my pa,’ added Mr Bush, shouting at the television until an aide mumbled to the president that the shiny glowing box that showed the images was a receiver not a camera.

Mrs Bush apparently came in a Burka and trilled in a high pitched manner when Saddam dropped, saying she’d seen so many Arabic women on the TV do that in the past few years that it kind of looked like fun.

Mr Bush said that he respected the government of Iraq's decision to execute Saddam Hussein, and hoped now the healing could begin as Sunni militias increased their tempo in their ethnic war against the Shiia majority.

'I hope too that the people of the world can come together and forget that the US propped up Saddam Hussein for the bulk of his reign including with weapon sales during the brutal Iraqi-Iranian war, which was kinda ironic since we also sold weapons to Iran at the same time. Yee-ha!'

Thursday, December 28, 2006

The Monthly - I like

The Monthly - An 11 month a year periodical on Australian Politics, Society, and Culture. Finally read me a copy. I like it. I think I may subscribe.

It had an interesting article on HIV, which tied in with recent comments RE Tony Abbott. Remember how Gerard Henderson, former Liberal staffer (where's that fucking mentioned on his precious Syd Institute website), wanked on about 'wah, stop picking on Abbott for being a Catholic and having secret meetings with George Pell which he lied about, wah'. Okay - not that last bit. Just remembered that time Abbott had to come clean on meeting with Pell after he denied it - and was darn churlish about it when he did so.

Anyway in the article titled 'The Margins of Our Attention: 25 years of HIV and AIDS' by Dennis Altman in the Dec-Jan 2006/07 issue, Altman notes the following;

'Every federal health minister up to and including Michael Wooldrige was clearly interested in the epidemic, and maintaining the involvement of infected communities. Since Tony Abbot took over the portfolio, there has been significant change, not only because the issue is less urgent at a domestic level than it was in the '80's: Abbott's moralism makes him uncomfortable with the sort of community representation to the epidemic. The increasingly conservative Canberra bureaucracy has reigned in spending on programs that conflict with the minister’s support for ‘traditional values’. As funding for AIDS organisations has declined, government interference – for example, censorship of HIV-prevention materials – has increased.’

(Page 56)

It should be noted however Altman goes out of his way to mention that Downer through the AusAID program is extremely supportive of all manner of programs for HIV prevention in overseas countries.

Seriously, I have to reiterate this. If Abbott cannot put aside whatever religious or moral convictions he has that interferes with his ability to dispassionately assess and administer public health then HE SHOULD NOT FUCKING BE THE FUCKING HEALTH MINISTER.

That and the Tonester – who seems to consider himself some sort of an √úbermensch what with his personal focus on maintaining fitness - considers it the moral duty of every Australian to do likewise and is unable to divorce himself from the idea that all it takes is ‘a little self control’ and Australians will become fit and health Victorian era style Penny Farthing riding fit people who can poo poo junk food and drugs as not being fit for their bodily temple when the simple fucking fact is that we need help to do exactly that. Willpower, self control, and being able to guide your child to eat properly despite marketing that is aimed at their consuming as much fatty fucking food as they can whack in the screaming gobs is all very well, but alas us Ozzers falter when it comes to that and just perhaps the government can do things – like ban junk food ads for kids – that will assist in that.

But not while Saint fucking Tony is in charge.

Be it ever so humble

Back home. Thank gawd. Loved being away and seeing friends and family. But also love being at home. Love feeling comfortable using my own toilet and my own shower.

I tell you what. If a lanky bean pole of a grey wizard knocked on my door right now I'd jam his knobbly staff so far up him his uvula would be sitting on the end like an octopus on a ball.

Subway announces exciting new name change for staff

In celebration of the Australian Workplace Agreements which new franchises are entitled to give to staff, Subway has announced they are ‘re-branding’ their name for their workers from ‘Sandwich Technicians’ to ‘Reamed-in-the-Arse Technicians’.

‘The first thought in a Reamed-in-the-Arse technician will always be the customer’s needs,’ gushed Mr Madeupname, PR spokesman for the Australian subsidiary. 'And at the end of a 12 hour shift that they will count their blessings that they work for one of the most progressive bread based food outlets in the world – except that is of course in terms of pay thanks to the new AWAs we are foisting on the newest and most vulnerable members of our family.'

The new franchises will no longer be burdened by cumbersome penalty and overtime rates, annual leave loading, allowances, rest breaks and other award conditions. Furthermore, like many semi-skilled jobs under the new “WorkChoices”, they will be offered no compensatory increase in base pay rates.

'Previous to WorkChoices, or as I like to call it HappyHappyFunFun, we had to pay 17 year old staff $9.40 an hour and provide an incredible amount of conditions. Now it’s just $8.75 and far fewer conditions. I don’t know what heaven must be like for giant conglomerations but as far as western nations go, frankly, for us, it’s already here.'

Subway said they will also try and get ‘Reamed-in-the-Arse Technicians’ classified as skilled labour under the 457 migration scheme and bring in a bunch of ‘bread’n’filling coolies’ from Asian countries where workers would be glad just for a patch of floor at night and all the fillings they could eat that dropped on the ground.

Oporto Chicken, also able to use AWAs for new franchises, has also embraced the race to the bottom, and in addition to presenting young workers with shithouse conditions and wages, will provide customers with paddles.

'If your food is not to your satisfaction then please to be paddling away,' said a company representative, adding that since they are giving the workers an arse beating it was only fair they pass those benefits on to the customers themselves.

See SMH article here

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Whoops - one (1) bottle of rum missing presumed consumed

Turns out Dad knew exactly what was left in his liquor cabinet. To the point that he drove up to my brother's place, who was well in trouble with his wife for getting pissy (as I was - sort of - with mine), where Dad interrogated us drunken lads as we swayed by the side of the road outside my brother's place. That and my brother was pretty out of it and he was worried about him.

My Christmas drinking wore off about 2 am. I have a mild headache but the IBS flared up pretty bad.

Still - a fun Xmas. Today was spent playing board games (Simpson's Cluedo, Buzz, Monopoly, UNO Spin) and groaning lots. No, no drinking today. Nor for a long while yet.


Merry Xmas, esp to those who watched my steady decline to soddenville. And yes I am surprised I was able to blog coherently (relatively) - unlike the last time I did it when it was complete utter gibberish. Hell I even managed to post a pic on one post.

Replaced the rum today. Told Dad I was sorry I had it without asking first. He seems cool about it. Pretty funny that he went to the effort of driving up to my brother's place to ask what happened to it when he knew perfectly well we'd snaffled it like a couple of teens giggling as we poured generous measures of the stuff and sculled it by Dad's bar fridge in the guest room.

Monday, December 25, 2006

That is well out of order

I am so drunk my 6-7 year old neice is beating me at Buzz(TM). Sure she keep swapping buzz units but still. Way impressive.

Mission Accomplished

Okay I'm done. He got me well pissed. We drank all his rum, now we're on Bacardi.

So drunk...

Big Brother Steps In

No, not another post about Orwell and how people on the right attempted to "own" him because he wrote Animal Farm (the CIA allegedly attempting to buy the rights to it during the propaganda wars of the 50's).

I mean my actual BB.

With TheWife retired hurt to our bedroom RE the fatty fatty fat fat comments I mentioned it to my older brother. He noted that my mum has lost her diplomatic skills (she has) and that she wouldn't have realised that us fattos would have perceived it the way we did (which we did of course). He's right I guess. He was very nice about it. He said 'look, what they do is twisted, but it's out of love.' That's totally true - it is out of love. Even if it is insulting and upsetting.

Being the only one drinking he tried to get me on board the wagon (or off it? I always get it wrong). The end result is that he's fed me 1/3 of a bottle of rum via full glasses with splashes of Diet Coke in them and I am very slightly pissed. Very slightly - I know this because I have slight numbness but am otherwise fully coherant.

A guest whose a musician wrote a Christmas song about my brother's family. They're singing it now around the baby grand in the corner of the lounge.

Better go and listen. That and I have to go to pee.

To the toilet!

Xmas Lunch Recap

I love these people. I do. But their thinking they can say whatever they like because they're related does give me the shits.

TheWife and I are big people. We are. Always have been. Yes we try and watch what we eat. Yes we try and go for walks. No, we don't hoe down in a trough of junk food on a nightly basis. Yes we are quite overweight. Yes it makes us sad.

Today at lunch the subject of a formerly fat girl came up. The parents waxed lyrical about her victory over flab and how she'd become a gorgeous creature, making a nice change from the grotesque (her word) mockery of a human being she'd been before.

It's quite easy to take offence at the subtext. Because my parents LOVE to talk about our failings to people. My brother smokes, so they talk about 'Oh I DO wish he'd give it up'. And of course I get the weight bullshit like offers of money to shed 33% of my body weight in 180 days or less. Our other brother has no failings so he doesn't get shit from them (and he's the clear favourite).

You tell them that it's a sensitive issue - but they don't listen. I think what I might do is couch it in terms like this.

'Hey if you had an overweight friend, would you discuss their weight problems with them without their having mentioned it first?' Assuming no (but they're old so you can't take that for granted) then hit them 'then why do you think it's acceptable with us?'

Anyway, I defused (for me) it my making some snide comments about 'well I better start doing some push ups then' but TheWife wasn't too happy about it at all. I don't blame her.

That is just f_cked

Anonymous Lefty and Owner/Controller of the excellent Boltwatch site got hacked. Both his blogs, representing hundreds if not thousands of articles/posts were stripped away by some nasty little inbred troll that is probably masturbating over his hilarious antic as we speak. Now said freak has parked his pimply IT arse on those URLs.

I am so mad. This is beyond fucked. I am not sure of the moral worth of the person behind it - or those actively or passively gloating about it ("he bought it on himself" or "it's a publicity stunt by Mr Lefty") - but I think adding the word "less" to the worth preface works neatly.

What a fucking cunt. No, cunts are useful and pleasant to be around. What is useless? Really useless? Of no conceivable worth at all?

I know - the person that did that to Mr Lefty.

I think I may take some time to take copies of my previous posts lest something like this happens to me. Anyway Mr L, I hope you're back online ASAP. I'm sure the Blogspot people will be able to restore you.

Mr Lefty has temp billeting here.

God bless us every one

Well so it is Christmas, and what have we done?

Me? Just got back from the midnight service. I went because my dad is in the choir and he likes to have at least one of us there to watch on. This year it was just me, and I was sober. Which makes a change from the year before last when myself, and my two brothers, were half cut and I had to leave about three times to go cut a slash under a tree in the churchyard as a lightning filled rain storm – laughing manically as the thunder pealed across the floodlit sky.

The midnight service is an odd service. It is to say the least for the older folks, with me being the youngest person there for a good 15 minutes after I arrived before slightly younger people arrived to take that mantle.

It’s the stock standard old green cover with the palm leaf prayer book with differing types of prayers – some sung, some said, interspersed with Christmas hymns by people from the 19th century (for some reason in Anglican churches they stopped in that era as best I can tell).

Being Anglican the choristers were not funky Bratz lites like the Pentecostals (as embodied by Guy ‘Fro’ Sebastian) - but the old style C of E robes over robes over clothes, with the average age of the chorister being around 102. I kid – more like 52.

I spent some time listening to the goings on, and then flipping through Revelations because it reads to me like the ravings of someone on day 3# of a Crystal Meth trip. I especially like the end paras where it says along the lines of ‘this prophecy is the only prophecy and anyone trying to add to this book is damned with all that nasty shit I said earlier’ (bad news for the Mormons). And unfortunately because it’s loony tunes stuff with cities of transparent gold, gates of pearl, rivers, and measurements of 1500 miles across and beasts and lakes of sulphur and seven headed beasts with 10 horns (I kid not), then it alas undercuts the good and simple stuff of the Christian message being ‘love your neighbour as yourself’.

For the sermon the Dean touched on Richard Dawkins, who recently on the BBC made the claim that the world may have been better off without religion. He expanded this into a book called the God Delusion which fully reminds me of ‘Well that about wraps it up for God’ from Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Basically the Dean said ‘Nu uh’ and that since Jesus existed therefore God existed – Q.E.D.

Better than the ‘TV is bad m’kay’ dross I have heard in previous Xmas sermons, and their woeful lament that ‘Santa is bad m’kay’, even if from a publicity viewpoint it does kind of provide a ‘walk this way’ for the baby Jesus in the months of September through December.

On my way out I noticed an elderly woman whose body has shrunk, but skin has not. She looked like one of those dogs with the folds of flesh. She glumly stared into the distance, hands on her wheeled Zimmer frame, looking to all intents and purposes like Madge from the old Dame Edna shows. Her carer (or daughter), likewise nonplussed, re-reading the A5 handout which listed the service order.

They didn’t look happy and didn’t really look like they were filled with the X-Mas atmos. Part of me wondered why they bothered? I mean no one likes hanging around people who feel they ‘have to be there’. I bet Jesus would have preferred they stayed at home. Unfortunately they were not the exception that proves the rule. Virtually no one was smiling or chatting. Just … distant. Expressionless. Like a Vulcan convention.

But the one exception to that was, and I like this, is the ‘turn around and wish each other Merry Christmas’ – a kind of hearty handshake with complete strangers 2/3 through the service. Except as luck would have it the family in front of me was one I have known for 20+ years (nice people, lots of fun).

So HM, what is Christmas to you apart from a Commonwealth mandated holiday that is in clear violation of the separation of church and state? (Hey I’m not complaining, I like holidays).

It’s not presents. It’s not the insane amounts of food. It’s not the fucking cheap as chips hyped up sales between now and new year in multi-stores where teens like the pimply Simpson’s youth nervously open the doors at 9am and step back lest the hordes of people who work jobs they hate to by shit they don’t need crush them in a maddened panic to by a blender at 15% off. And, no offence my Christian kith it’s really not about the baby Jesus. But what the distilled nub of Christianity is, as noted above, loving each other.

In concrete terms however it’s about being with people you love – if you can have that. Or feeling like part of the community – if you can do that. So I can see why people without ready access to either feel like complete shit this time of year.

One the way home something happened that to me summed up the Aussie component of the Xmas spirit. Blocking the road was a pissed yob dressed in a badly fitting Santa suit, a square pillow as his fake gut, while a coterie of as-pissed sat on a low wall and grass off to the side eggnogging him on.

I stopped and wound down the window as he staggered to my door accompanied by the hooting cheers of his drunken admirers.

‘Merry Christmas mate,’ he slurred, shaking my proffered hand. ‘Merry fucking Christmas.’

So on behalf of me, Merry fucking Christmas to you all.


Sunday, December 24, 2006

Have you noticed you're never too young to take shit from your parents?

I am 34.

TheWife didn't want to eat her fruit mince pie and I said - half jokingly - "I'll have it".

Dad's response?

"You don't need it. "

You see because I am a big fatty fatty fat fat who doesn't know when to stop fucking eating apparently. Which is why he offered me $2000 to drop my weight to his last time I saw him - if I did it in six months. Dad not so up on sustainable weight loss as an actual medical technique it seems.

Hmmm, if I cut my legs off then I may just actually make it...

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Look I was comfortable!

Yesterday afternoon I changed out of my trousers and undies into my ladies PJ bottoms in order to have a restful arvo kip. Because if I sleep fully clothed it makes me feel muggy. Then my brother and his family came over to dinner.

I elected not to change. Because - why bother?

My niece, curious at my choice of ladies pants for PJ comfort asked why I was wearing ladies garments and I told her frankly it was cause I didn't want my willie hanging out a cock hole. She nodded seriously then told her mum. She was ... not angry - but not happy about the level of discussion with her 6 year old on that.

My parents were horrified. They kept making reference to it, asked if I was planning on sleeping at the table and so forth. Now as I am about to go and have dinner with some friends she asked if I was wearing PJs to there too.

You know what, just to wig her, I think I will walk out of here in PJ bottoms then change in the carport!

Vanity Plate Terrorist’s Undoing

February 23, 2005 - 3:59PM

Abrahim Akbarie, 28, was arrested yesterday after state patrol officers in the state of Virginia searched his car, discovering an AK-47, two drum magazines of 100 rounds each, several home-made pipe bombs, and a tourist map of Washington DC with the White House circled.

‘We’d had reports of a swarthy looking gent asking where the White House was, which raised the suspicions of locals,’ said trooper Daniel Pescat. ‘So we started trawling the highway to see if we could find anything, and, sure enough, we found something.’

What the troopers found was Akabrie’s early model Chevrolet by the side of the road, having broken down. But it was not the man’s middle-eastern appearance that caused the troopers to pull over, but rather the vanity licence plate.

‘The fact his licence plate said ‘JIHAD4EVR’ was our first big clue this could be our man,’ said Pescat. ’That and the sign he’d held up in an effort to swing a lift said "White House? I have bomb." ’

When questioned by the troopers Mr Akbarie claimed that the bomb sign was actually a reference to his car being of questionable reliability and that his poor English was to blame for the confusion. However the contents of his trunk proved otherwise.

‘It’s all in a days work,' said Pescat, likely to receive a commendation from the local trooper area command. ‘But what I can’t understand is how the boys at the DMV let that licence plate through.’

1984 in the noughties

In the Orwell biog I am up to the bit where a dispirited Orwell has returned from Spain having fought there against the fascists in a vain attempt to assist the elected Spanish government preserve itself in the face of Franco. Orwell, who got shot in the throat just missed being arrested since his chosen militia of POUM had suffered a whisper then outwardly vocal campaign that they were Trotskyites and subsequently purged from the movement. This included detention without charge of senior figures, many of them dying in unsanitary jail conditions.

However this did not turn Orwell off from being, what he called, an emotional socialist. He remained left in his political viewpoint right up until the end of his life – even after penning 1984 and Animal Farm – though the later was clearly an allegory about how – like in Spain – the ideals of Socialism were readily corrupted by the taint of Stalinist Communism.

Emotional Socialism to Orwell was his belief that all of humanity should be on watch for each other and assist each other to have equitable living conditions. It wasn’t so much what he derided as scientific socialism or chess board socialism where planning and rigid hierarchy necessitated the control of people including what they thought and read in the most extreme circumstances – as evidenced by the failure of Communism when it was twisted by totalitarian principles.

Indeed it was totalitarianism that Orwell stood up against. His five years as a white policeman in Burma first showed him what Imperialism and lack of freedom meant. He gave up an excellent career with good wages and prospects, a job he proved to be skilled at, because he saw the dying British empire as fascistic in nature. A tiny cadre of whites occupying a country of millions of yellow and brown people. And at just 23 he was in charge of law and order of a district of 200,000 people, the white police chief for a force of yellow and brown constables, his duties including watching for seditious movements against imperial rule.

1984 is of course the distillation of totalitarianism at its worst. The party in 1984 of big brother is neither communist nor fascist. It has principles of each. And the principles it focuses on is that of control of people’s thoughts. This is what Orwell derided – the idea that a government had to tell people what to think and even change history to justify their actions.

Which brings us to now. Which governments have gone further along this path of control in the past few years? Western governments unfortunately – in the face of terrorist threat. Ubiquitous dread of sudden death has given them the political ability to strip back rights. In Australia we now have control orders where someone who has not been charged with a crime can have their movements regulated and watched. We have secret detention where someone can be detained up for two weeks where reporting this detention is a crime. We have anti-terror legislation that, in my mind, puts the proof of evidence on the Defence to refute as opposed to the Prosecution to prove. And in the wake of a terror attack allows law enforcement to search anyone they like without just cause. Furthermore books are now once more banned, even if they do allow us an insight into the minds of madmen and potentially allow us to counter them.

Sure, it’s not Big Brother in the 1984 sense, though a recent article I read noted how camera technology is such that the thousands and thousands of small purpose built camera networks of council or shopping security can be readily interlinked with current technology should it ever be required.

It’s troubling. It’s especially troubling that it’s not because of actual governments seeking to topple other governments. But fanatics who see that blowing themselves up somehow will change what is happening to their people. And in the process governments take away our rights to think what we want and say what we want through hard and soft measures designed to encourage actual or self censorship.

I for one think it is well fucked. And if Orwell was alive today, he’d take one look at the Coalition government and label them proto-fascists for their cloaking themselves in the electoral proven success of engendering fear all while curbing freedoms. Let alone the crap they are foisting on would be migrants with their fucked up citizenship test and (in the case of Beehive and co) pure unadulterated wankery about bad burkas and other such racist and anti-Muslim bullshit.

Because you see the Coalition knows better and what’s good for us … just like a wiser, older sibling might.

That was f_cking off

I know as a omnivore I have to take responsibility for what I eat. Including the fact that as a consumer of animal parts I have to, through my purchase of items, know and understand that animals are killed as part of this process.

My parents cook a Christmas leg of ham every year. My mum, who lacks fine motor skills and upper body strength, asked me to peel it.

Peel the skin off it.

It looked just like the skin on the tailor's dummy owned by Buffalo Bill in Silence of the Lambs. The greasy fat beneath the skin worked its way under my fingernails as I pulled it down over the leg bone, a horrible squelching noise accompanying the smell of raw fat threading up my nostrils.

It was beyond foul.

Again, I re-iterate, there are jobs in this world that I could never do. Peeling skin off animals would be one of them - as well as scooping up a ring from raw sewage like Kenny does in the movie Kenny.

People in gross jobs, I tip my hat off to you. And shake you by the hand - as long as of course you have washed it first.

Adios Nutbar

Saparmurat Atayevich Niyazov of Turkmenistan, whose crazed antics ruined his country for a generation. Warped fucker.

Giant gnomes seize human for terrifying round world tour

Tamworth, NSW; Enormous gnomes, some topping seven feet tall, seized a dozing Malcolm Brent from his front yard and packed him in a suitcase according to the dazed Brent who claimed he was held in captivity for several weeks, only to be bought out at odd intervals to stand in front of national monuments of various countries to have his photo taken.

‘The Eiffel Tower, the bridge to the Houses of Parliament, the Opera House, Statue of Liberty, I seen ‘em all,’ said Brent, shaking. ‘Well seen them for about a minute as their giant plaster hands pulled me from my suitcase, thrust me up on railings or standing blinking in the bright sun as their booming horrible laughs echoed around the public concourse as they demanded poses from me.’

‘Why didn’t anyone help me?’ added Brent in a husky fear filled whisper.

Brent said he was eventually returned to his front garden at three in the morning, a series of photos of his frightening ordeal wedged firmly in his bottom. The last he saw of the gnomes was when they clinked slowly up the road into the darkness, their giant red hats swaying side to side reflecting their ungainly gait, their awful chuckles booming down the empty street.

Sergant Eric Atkinson of Tamworth Police said that Mr Brent’s experience wasn’t unique and that they’d ‘investigate’ it.

‘Gnomes will be gnomes,’ he added, shrugging his shoulders.

Tweens - when marketing gets out of control

It's in today's SMH. Here's the opening para.

Padded bras for eight-year-old girls are big business these days. Valerie Lawson looks at the advent of the tween.

IN AN age of consumer scepticism and saturated markets, the 21st century has seen the creation of a great marketing idea: the tweenager.

Tweenage - somewhere between six and 12 - did not exist 15 years ago. It is a market thriving on padded bras for flat chests, dolls that look like prostitutes, electronic makeover games your six-year-old daughter can plug into the TV set and magazines that tell her how to look hotter, and older, faster - just like the tweenage heroines, Lindsay Lohan and Nicole Richie.

For the rest see here

Friday, December 22, 2006

Summer fun had me a blast—HM's a readin' his brains out

Summer. A great time to read. In the past few days I have eaten my way through some books—figuratively Hungry Caterpillar style—and am enjoying simply having the opportunity to do exactly that. My parents are pretty easy going and think nothing of my sneaking off to our room for a combo read on the double bed—theWife engrossed in hers, me in mine.

So, HM, what have you been reading?

Well I read Dragons of Summer Flame, the sequel to the Dragonlance War series by Weis and Hickman. As far as sword and sorcery stuff goes these guys write some good books. Sure their prose can be annoying but they have a flair for characterisation and I enjoy their stuff. It's a good book—though one of those Blakes 7 jobbies where they killed off major characters towards the end but still enjoyable nonetheless.

Next was The Bush Dynasty which I bought off a seedy hippy at a forest markets, forced to trek uptown for an ATM since said flower power man had no EFTPOS or credit card facilities. Its a snapshot of the Bush and Walker families and their entwined links to intelligence, military, oil, and middle eastern politics in the last near 100 years. Pretty full on with detailed lists of various powerful figures the Bushes knew that were involved in war supplies, oil, and the CIA since its inception. Chilling stuff. Chilling in the sense that it reveals Bush seeking the presidency not because of what he saw America needed but because in a sense he saw it as a family legacy. The same attitude aristocrats of old had of their divine right to rule. It also explains why they are not afraid to use dirty tricks to achieve that goal since their moral purpose "of for the good of the people"seems entirely absent.

Following that was a book called The Partisans which I got at the same markets, a 1979 book looking at the role of guerrilla movements against Axis occupation in World War Two. I only read a few chapters and I will return to it. Interesting stuff. Snapshots of the roles played in each occupied country and how the politics of communist Vs non-communist organisations worked in terms of accessing supplies—the Russians naturally backing the communist elements, the Brits/Yanks the non-communists—and how partisan groups often went at each other as much as the Germans. Including in one attack where one group was attacking a German convoy only to be attacked in the rear by a rival partisan group at the same time.

Then was The Stainless Steel Rat Gets Drafted by Harry Harrison, my finally being able to replace my lost copy. Harry Harrison is my favourite of all SF authors. His humour and presentation of technology as simply ordinary is unparalleled in his field. SSRGD is made especially interesting because it features a world that has embraced the socio-political movement of Individual Mutualism—created by an AI robot who after reading every political and sociological tract it could find when asked to come up with a workable system of governance promptly emailed it to everyone on the planet causing all sorts of problems. IM is hard to describe but basically the concept is that individuals are self reliant but assist others when needed. Violence is always wrong. And that credit—not money—is earned through work performed as opposed to value of work performed; i.e. your 'money' depends on hours you worked as opposed to a typical medium of exchange as we know it. There are no laws, no prisons, no police, no armies. It seemed like a neato system to me. Completely unworkable I suspect but still I remember as a kid reading about it for the first time and wondering how feasible it was.

Now I am on to the official biography of George Orwell, aka Eric Blair. Friends lent me—thanks, guys,I will return it—a combo of his novels in an anthology (and most if not all are available for free on the web). The man was so freaking talented it does my head in. Loved Homage to Catalonia, and The Clergyman's Daughter. He's an interesting guy who died in his literary prime in his mid-forties of TB. What a freaking waste. While he only —only!—wrote about 13 novels, he wrote hundreds of essays. This site has links to most of them. I am now reading "Such, Such were the Joys" about his time in a primary boarding school. Man, I thank the gods that this shit does not cut it in modern educational systems. Read it—it's good—find it here.

UPDATE: It's 2015 and I edited this post to apply Commonwealth style to the text. We were pregnant at this time but we didn't know if it would work so we didn't say anything to anyone except the few who knew us. Well, it worked and theboy was the result. Thank fuck. He made my life complete. WFTW.

What I know in life is because what Commando Comics taught me

As a kid every Summer I liked to stock up on old Commando Comics, then while my days away reading them in hot places, the sweat running down my puffy boy fat and soaking into my shirt. And as a hoot I decided this year - at the ripe old age of 34 - I would buy a stack and revisit this experience - though obviously avoiding the fatty sweating thing.

Commando Comics. War stories mostly from World War 2 concerning the adventures of men, always men, battling themselves and the Axis - be they krauts or nips (their words). The battling themselves seemed to be from their weaknesses which they would resolve by killing lots of other men. Men I note that died cleanly with an 'ARRRGGGGHHH' then lay still without marks and not for example take 10 minutes to pass on clutching their bloody stomach wound and crying out for their mother as their lives seeped away.

Typical flaws would be 'I'm not up for the job', 'I am scared of being shot at', 'I don't like this man I am killing people with but by the end of the book I am sure we'll be firm friends and in later years reminisce about the time we dropped that grenade into the basement of Jerries and blew them back to Berlin’.

But luckily they would rise to the challenge and, if they committed a bad act in the tome such as leaving a friend to die, then they would by the end have realized their error and sacrificed themselves – usually in the process of killing lots of Jerries/Krauts/Nips/Slantys.

Well I wasn’t disappointed. Sure enough all those themes were there. Cartoonish Nazis Schnelling, and Donner Und Blitzening and Japs crying ‘By Shinto’ as they were exploded (nicely) across the page.

During the Cold War comic companies also touched on current themes of Commies bad. I can remember reading a collection of US war stories about heroic US military involved in spats against dirty reds. In one a Peace Corps group was kidnapped by slanty reds (the worst kind of red), but rescued by heroic marines. One of whom was the brother to a Peace Corps member. Their reaction? "Thanks brother. I have learned that the Peace Corps will never work when there’s scum like this around. I’m joining the Marines.’

Curiously the men in the Commando comics never really drink, never cry, and never ever disappear for a quick bout of playing the pink flute behind a tree. Women are completely absent. It’s like a Biggles book in that regard.

Anyway, Commando Comics. Had fun reading them as a kid. But man – there’s some twisted shit coming out of there. In a way it’s more insidious that games like Grand Theft Auto. I mean at least they’re blatant about what they’re doing. The war comics dress up killing men as noble, heroic, with no one ever feeling remorse for their actions.

Inject that Sheehan

Paul Sheehan, magic drinking righty wunderkind of the SMH, like the opposing camp in News Ltd does not like the concept of harm minimisation. It seems to the mystical elixir imbibing "... journo ..." that addicts are simply criminal scum and that the injecting centre is nothing but a compromise or some such. You can check out his recent blowhard piece here.

Here's some choice words.

Is the injecting centre an overwhelming success? No, it is an overwhelming compromise. The number of property crimes and thefts committed by addicts in Australia has been in the millions, and the social damage caused by the parasitic heroin subculture has been immense. In the coming months, if Indonesia moves to execute Australian drug carriers, there will be outrage about the morality of the death penalty. Australia's moral ground will not appear very high in Asia, given that the number of people injecting illicit drugs appears to have increased, the use of ecstasy and "ice" has surged, and the Government has become enmeshed in the heroin trade.

You see, because even though its funded by the proceeds of recovery of money from criminals it still counts as being the taxpayers money. But he's right - the war on drugs where they make a substance attractive both in sale and use then wonder why crime ends up as a result of this intelligent blinkered effort of stupidity does result in crime. Lots of crime. I know - I've been robbed seven times and I bet almost all of it to fuel habits for dickheads who take drugs.

But in the SMH today there was this little number presented for reader's edification.

Sydney's controversial supervised injecting room has had no impact on local crime rates, new figures show.

The NSW Opposition has repeatedly called for the medically supervised injecting centre (MSIC) at Kings Cross to be shut down, most recently claiming users were going there to inject the drug ice.

Critics of the facility claim it attracts drug users to the area to deal narcotics and leads to increased crime.

But the Bureau of Crime Statistics and Research (BOCSAR) found crime in Kings Cross has remained steady or declined since the injecting room opened five years ago.

Sheehan spent much of his article lamenting the seedy nature of the cross and how the injecting centre drove valuable business away. Good clean business (despite the fact he notes later the Cross has always been a seedy beating heart of the vice world of Sydney).

Fact is the centre saves lives. Fact is it hasn't impacted on crime in the area despite the shrill claims of 'I don't care, charge them with anything' Debnam in his wanking contest of Laura Norder with the ALP for the upcoming 2007 NSW State election.

Fact is human beings ever since they crawled out of the cave have been snorting, sniffing, eating, drinking, smoking substances in order to get ripped off their noodle and always will and if there are artificial blocks in place of 'you can drink this, inject that, swallow this, smoke that but you can't drink this, inject that, swallow this, smoke that' then there will ALWAYS be crime as a result. Prohibition did not work in the US for alcohol which is why they rescinded it. Why the fuck they can't do the same for drugs is beyond me. Yes - narcotics are insidious. Yes they do cause health damage. But does criminalising it make a fucking difference? No, not really. It just enables criminals to make money out of it and present a fucked product where people die and are attracted to its very use by the social cachet of 'ooooo illegal'.

By the way I bet if you asked a cop what they'd prefer to deal with, a bunch of agro drunks or a bunch of e-heads and it'd be e-heads every single time.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Happy Birthday to you Xmas Babies out there

For all those people who have a birthday within +/- 5 days of Xmas, happy birthday. Too often your precious celebration is over shadowed by the baby Jesus and I bet as a kid you miss/did miss out on having friends around to celebrate because they fucked off for the holidays - or your special moment was actually subsumed into the Xmas fun of the 25th - especially if that was your birthday too. A special shout out to those people who have 'Noel' as part of their name because they were born around this time too, as if you needed a reminder of how unspecial you were with that handy little naming number.

So big cheers lads, and as I am downing egg nog (hideous stuff) and engaging in heroic amounts of IBS pain inducing consumption I will think of you fondly as you open your birthday pressies which likely have been fucking wrapped in fucking Christmas paper because the asshole that gave it to you just didn't think about what they were fucking doing.


By the way, anyone else scared of Store Santas? I am - though not as badly as I am of clowns.

In truth I don't really care for Santa. And I don't really care for the having to pretend for the little ones that Santa may in fact not be the fucking groundskeeper they just threw a sketchy wig and suit on and sobered him up enough to hand out pressies to the fucking second graders thought too fucking stupid or present crazed not to recognise his huge fuzzy brown sidies nakedly visible through the poorly constructed overbeard of cotton wool they clagged on to his fucking face.

Kenny - a late convert

Whilst winding our way to my parent's place we stopped off at a hotel with pay movies. Yes I know it costs $14.95, you can't pause them, and basically - like the mini bar - it's a complete waste of money. But hey I love staying in hotels, love the little soaps, love the shower caps and the pointy loo paper and all that Jazz. I get off on it.

Well we decided to watch the Oz movie Kenny.

It was worth it.

Hands down one of the best Oz movies ever made. Warming, decent, funny, well written, well acted. Even if Andrew Bolt likes it, it's still good. Actually just because Andrew Bolt likes it means nothing at all of course. That'd be like hating dogs just because Hitler liked them more than Jewish people.

Anyway - here's the wiki. If you haven't seen it then see it. Great stuff.

Stanhope is Evil, Evil! - Grandpa you said that about all the toys

Witness if you please today's editorial in the Oz RE the Bushfire Report

Burning bush capital

Jon Stanhope has much to answer for after bushfires report

BUSHFIRES have always had the potential to exact a terrible toll in Australia, but through good management and administration their effects can be mitigated. But according to a report just handed down by ACT Coroner Maria Doogan, this did not happen in the capital territory when fires swept through the suburbs, destroying 500 homes and killing four people. Among the findings of Ms Doogan's report, handed down on Tuesday, were that the territory's Emergency Services Bureau was inadequately staffed, lacked appropriate strategies to cope with suburban bushfires and did not use resources properly. She also found that ACT authorities failed to co-ordinate with their NSW counterparts; indeed, Mr Stanhope even refused an offer of help by NSW authorities. Even as spotfires were breaking out in the suburbs, Mr Stanhope was telling residents there was nothing to worry about.

While Mr Stanhope has taken to the airwaves to defend himself in the wake of the report, his words come as cold comfort to those who lost their homes or loved ones in the fires. His admission that "there were systemic failures", as he told ABC radio yesterday, suggests Mr Stanhope still does not get that, as the minister in charge, he bears responsibility. Nor was the healing process helped by a lawsuit his Government helped mount against the Coroner, which pushed back its findings by 12 months.

During his tenure as ACT Chief Minister, Mr Stanhope has been one of the country's most controversial and colourful state or territory executives. While he has delighted in his attempts to undermine anti-terror legislation and legalise gay unions, he has hardly made the ACT a bush paradise. His Government has imposed a welter of punitive taxes and levies on ACT residents while cutting services, most recently 23 schools. With the next ACT election not until late 2008, Ms Doogan's report will only increase the speculation that Mr Stanhope will step down to hand over power to an understudy. For those who lost their homes in 2003, such a move might be satisfying, but too little, too late.

Claps loudly.

Ah the Oz. Who for some reason don’t like Stanners. I think personally it’s because he doesn’t play the ‘Terrorists are coming! Terrorists are coming!’ fear game the Oz does since the paper prides itself on its ability to be the spokesperson on all things National Security all the while fully backing the conservative government line on security issues even when – like with Iraq and vilifying Muslims – they increase the potential risk to Australians.

Indeed the Oz has never had anything nice to say about Stanners and I’m guessing that’s probably because he runs as far as I am concerned one of the more moral governments in this country and because (the main reason I suspect) he never ever sucks up to the press. Witness the semi-hostile treatment he gets from the Canberra Times for one.

Let’s look at The Oz’s commentary which bizarrely extends into completely different points utterly unrelated to the issue of the fires because well they’ve fuck all else to say and because they just don’t like him and his failure to lock lips on Rupert’s butt and suck.

1) Stanhope launched action against the Coroner over a possible perception of bias – which anyone is entitled to do when there is – get this – a perception of bias. This action was over-ruled but it was completely fair enough he was allowed to. After-all before the Coroner had begun her inquiry it came to light she’d made a number of negative comments about the handling of the bushfires and was threatening repercussions. At least that’s my understanding. That and he was entitled to review evidence about his failings before he gave evidence. Yes it resulted in a delay but, Oz people, it’s called FAIRNESS. Of course you wouldn’t know about that given your ‘it doesn’t matter if it was because someone was tortured the evidence should stand’ stance in the Jack Thomas case and your teat sucking support of the government of the day over monstrous attacks on our civil liberties (which of course Stanners stood up against unlike any other premier).

2) Yes there were failures on that day. But as Liberal Senator Bill Heffernan noted himself, and I am no fan of Heffo but acknowledge that as a Junee Farmer who has experienced the ravages of out of control fires many times that he has an inkling of what he is talking about, there was little that could be done that day to prevent the fires from hitting Canberra. Though of course while the territory emergency workers were overwhelmed by the fire at that same time there were organizational issues that if were not present then perhaps more could have been done and lives might not have been lost. But hey given only 4 people died when 500+ houses were lost it’s still in my mind a pretty good result as far as protecting life is concerned (remembering those people who died did so because they elected to remain post evacuation order for the most part to try and save their homes and those of their neighbours – though in one death this was not the case and adequate warning would have saved her life). If you’re concerned about the warning issue then see Chapter 7 of the coronial report.

3) Ah, here we are, back to the Oz and why they hate Stanners. You see it’s obvious he took delight in sticking it to the government over Anti-terror legislation. You know how he was the ONLY premier to make public the sheer bastardry the Federal government wanted to stick to our civil liberties because you see to know what laws were coming and to comment on it gave victory to the terrorists. And I do love the ‘welter of punative taxes and rates’ and ‘closing schools’ (boo, hiss) comments also added in there which shows he’s just evil.

Mind you someone I like to call a journalist would probably have researched that taxes issue a little closer then realized that the ACT is uniquely affected when it comes to revenue raising because we are essentially A REGIONAL CITY WITH FUCK ALL RESOURCES FOR THE GOVERNMENT TO ACCESS APART FROM RATES, TAXES, AND DUTIES. How many mines do we have Australian? How many toll roads? How much water allocations can we sell? Practically none.

The territory as anyone with half a brain might remember used to not be self governing and had ALL its money supplied from federal allocation. As a result the ACT was 20% better off financially. With self government get this Australian THEY HAVE TO RAISE FUCKING MONEY IN ORDER TO FUCKING OPERATE. And given they have NO RESOURCES this unfortunately means that THEY HAVE TO BE REALLY FUCKING CAREFUL WITH THEIR FUCKING MONEY. This alas includes reorganizing some of our excellent schools because so many people bought into the private schools are better myth that government school occupancy was at 70%. Put simply too few students in too many schools meant money WAS FUCKING WASTED. If the Federal government hadn’t done so much to support elite private schools then the ACT Schools would have more students in them. But they don’t.

Yes The Australian. Never ever let facts get in the way of a good piece of spin, especially when you can ‘Fuck You’ a government that doesn’t have time to wine and dine your blatantly biased reporters and as such you engage in blinkered editorial practices that are so beyond the norms of objective journalistic standards that to label yourselves journalists is to stretch the friendship of the dictionary definition. Unless of course you preface ‘journalist’ with ‘yellow’.

Finally I will just say this. While the fires were a tragedy and things could have been done better on the day and in the aftermath Stanhope, and the people of the ACT, performed magnificently. Neighbours opened up their houses, ABC 666 performed an amazing effort of calming and reporting and organizing of resources, and by and large we showed ourselves as a resilient territory of compassionate caring people.

Also, and I love the fact the Oz failed to mention this, it should also be noted that during this emergency Stanhope – amongst others – helped save the life of a helicopter pilot after his vehicle crashed in a dam – the premier and others swimming out to rescue him despite the potential risk of the helicopter catching fire or exploding.

How many at the Oz can say they ever did anything as valuable as that in their entire smarmy un-objective lives? I’d say absolutely none of them.

By the way Australian, in 2004 Stanhope was elected with an increased majority to win self government with a majority for the first time since self government was created. Yes this "damning report" was not yet out BUT all the complaints and mistakes were already well known prior to his election. It's almost as if territorians trust Stanhope to be a good Chief Minister despite mistakes made on that day and inspite of your gutter attacks that you're so, so very good at doing.

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Stop picking on Christians!

Ah Gerard Henderson, I do love the fact your chosen photo does in no way represent your current snowy mane. Anyway, I digress.

Gerard recently opined in a righty way how he was sick and tired of nasty secular types putting down religious figures when they sway from the path of ‘can’t we all be nice for a change’ and ‘wouldn’t it be great if we didn’t rape the earth and looked after the least vulnerable in the community like Christ would have done given he mentioned looking after the poor about three thousand times more than man on man action’ and launched instead into their own anguished concerns about private morality.

Now there is a tendency on the left of Australian politics to regard a number of committed Christians with contempt - socially conservative Catholics and Protestant evangelicals alike. They are dismissed because of their views on issues such as abortion, euthanasia, stem cell research involving the destruction of human embryos, homosexuality and same-sex marriage.

Yep, you see same-sex marriage falls under ‘private morality’, as does being homosexual. Because you see you poofters can all help being poofters and if only you signed up to one of those nice ‘Help! I believe in God but I am a dude who digs Dude’s’ Boot Camps where they show pictures of naked men and shock you with an electric charge in a form of behaviour modification. Then your private morality can be as great as theirs!

Sign up to ‘I have a penis and want to handle other penises; ZZZZTTTTTT’ today!

In modern times it's fashionable to be a Christian believer who proclaims a social agenda.
Witness the success of Tim Costello, for example. Yet, among many commentators, it is not acceptable for Christians to talk in public about private morality. Witness the ridicule which is heaped upon the Health Minister, Tony Abbott, for example.

In the final episode of the ABC TV comedy The Glass House, Abbott was sneered at as "the holy Health Minister". No such contempt would have been directed at a religious political activist like Tim Costello. Likewise, in the Crikey newsletter last month, the comedian Guy Rundle engaged in a rank sectarian attack on Catholicism in general and Abbott in particular. He would never write such lines about Islam.

Ahhh, here we are. It’s all about the Tonester. I tell you what Hendo, here’s why people are annoyed with Abbott. When your religion is such – and it can be any religion – and your role as the senior government overseer for a department like Health which focusses on empirically based medical science clash then yes, you can be ridiculed.

And no, he would never write anything like that about an Islamic Health Minister because the chances of an Islamic minister of government in federal politics on the conservative benches is about the same as John Howard apologising for the stolen generation. A complete fallacy to even liken it.

Tony Abbott consistently demonstrates his inability to place the objective health needs of Australians before his own blinkered morality – belonging to a faith that still has trouble coming to terms with the concept of wearing pants, having/enjoying sex, and that the use of condoms can prevent the transmission of infectious diseases. This is not to say Abbott hasn’t strayed from the path of his faith on health issues. For example he has publically supported fertility treatments for Australian women.

Which is interesting because I know of at least one medical fertility clinic that when its parent hospital was purchased by a Catholic Health organisation was forced to move out because of the ‘tut tuts’ from the ‘life begins at conception and doing any research on dud embryos that could help other women get pregnant is wrong – I know this because I can’t have sex but feel I am allowed to tell everyone in the world who can and cannot and how they can and cannot do it.’ organisation in question.

Remember kids, it’s like Hendo says. Homosexuality is solely a private morality issue. And when you object to statements like ‘homosexuality should be criminalised and they can’t be figures in our church and marry and adopt children like normal clean people’ then a kitten dies.

Or has sex with a same sex kitten.

If that fat woodwind fucker doesn’t stop playing Green-sleeves then Area Aromatherapy scent seller will thread homemade flute into musician’s anus.

Local Saturday Markets; Aromatherapy salesmen Trent Craddy said that if his opposing merchant, overweight craftsman of wooden flutes Graham Nixworth doesn’t stop playing Green-sleeves by way of demonstrating the haunting quality of his wooden ‘earth spirit’ flutes he will be forced to take action.

‘I have had to listen to the fucking Lassie theme song about 902 times since we started coming to these markets,’ claimed Craddy of the frequency of the tune in question, which on a wooden flute sounds exceptional - but after so many performances becomes for nearby booths less lilting and more white knuckle inducing creating.

‘He doesn’t even actually have to be playing it now. I just have to see him waddling to set up his stall it triggers in my brain,’ added Craddy.

Frequent repetition or repeated playing of the same snatch of music is regarded as an unpleasant experience, as evidenced by interrogators the world over doing exactly that to discomfort prisoners – a mechanism recently made famous with Twisted Sister’s ‘I wanna rock’ played non stop around the clock at Abu Grahib and other places of US controlled detention to coax ‘suspects’ into cooperating lest they wish to hear Dee Snider fire up once more with his anthem of thwarted rock loving youth who idolise not a buttoned down nine to five cubicle existence but rather the sprayed on pants antics of a stage dwelling mega-rock beast.

Left: Snider.

‘I begged him, begged him to play something different,’ said Craddy, snorting one of his soothing vials of scent laced calming potions in the manner of a nasal spray in an effort to calm his rage. ‘But Nixworth said, unbelievably, that it was the only song he could finger without having to concentrate. I’ll remember that as my fingers entwine around the shaft of his admittedly well honed wooden instrument as I ram it six flute holes up his main hole.’

Craddy, unaffected by the scent combo, added that due to his store of pleasantly perfumed oils he would have no trouble lubing the flute up for easy entry should it come to that.

‘He should be fucking glad that if I do go the anal fluting that I am not the fucking organic honey salesman from three booths down - ‘cause I know the friction of a dense Yellow Box coated woodwind instrument would hurt a lot worse.’

Craddy’s partner, Rainbow Artley, mother of nine - two being Craddy’s - said she was surprised Craddy's use of the infusion of Sandalwood and Rosemary to calm his anger over the frequent use of the song reportedly penned by Henry the Eighth didn't work since it should work on anyone.

‘I mean, if Henry the Eighth himself had taken that - it’s likely that he wouldn’t have killed so many of his wives and they might be still with us today,’ said the historically challenged Rainbow.

Oh thank god

An entire week without computer/internet access. I tells ya I was climbing the walls I was. Still, got to buy/read some funky books, hang out at the pool, and tread the halls of shopping malls long untrod by my ultra flat feet.

Now back in my parent's town for Xmas then back to Canberra afterwards for New Years. Extended postings and rants etc will be forthcoming shortly.

Never fear, HM is here!

(swoops on evil doers)

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Where HM enjoys beer ?!

I had four or five beers this afternoon.


Because I wanted to. Sure at some point I went the B&C, but mainly I had beer.

Not as shandies either. Full strength normal beer made from beer.

I know - weird and unlike me. Maybe my back hairs are shedding from their current silky downy state and becoming bristly and black like a disease carrying rat?


So much for my Adios speech of two blogs before.

Dr Evil Chair Returns!

A while back my 120 kg frame killed our Dr Evil Computer Chair. It was very sad.

Today the wife got a new base and he's back in action.

Still can't work out how to $@#&!@$@*&#! gas lift it though.

Hooray for the Dr Evil Chair! Hooray!

School's Out for Summer

Thanks Alice.

Well lads I am off for the year. No, not from blogging, though it will be a time out for a week or so as I am dancing the light fantastic up the coast to be with my family (I'll check in again with my usual stock hilarious antics when I reach my parent's place). But from work.

I'm back at work on 4 Jan. Hooray. But I may take more leave off. Depends how I feel.

I'm a bit pissy on account of having met with one of my clients for the first time face to face, where upon we had beers (me many, him not so much due to driving) and pool playing. Lots of fun. Except I have that build up of spit that says 'hey vomit soon' going. Great...

But this will be a good time off I think. And for the first time I am not taking a laptop with me. I will likely have withdrawal symptoms on day three or something.

Well better get something to eat. And drink. And be merry for tomorrow we may die. Or something along those lines.

It's been real champs. Thanks to those who visit/comment. And may you have an excellent hol season and all of that goodness that goes with it.

Remember kids, stay in school.

Monday, December 11, 2006

With thanks to Crikey - Independent Article on Petro Influence Peddling in the Greenhouse Debate

Exxon spends millions to cast doubt on warming

By Andrew Buncombe in Washington and Stephen Castle in Brussels
Published: 07 December 2006

The world's largest energy company is still spending hundreds of thousands of dollars to fund European organisations that seek to cast doubt on the scientific consensus on global warming and undermine support for legislation to curb emission of greenhouse gases.

For more see here.

Adios Comrade Pinochet

Wouldn't it be a real shame if his interview with the big man went like this.

Where HM and TheWife see x2 films in one day to avoid the hot house

Our AV Jennings home has one of those non false ceiling ceilings. So it gets damn hot. Not yet used to the Summer heat we went to Belco Westfield and watched two movies back to back.

Open Season - which was pretty good for a kiddies Toystory style animation. Good script and it featured Martin Lawrence at his least annoying.


Unaccompanied Minors - which as far as kiddies X-mas films go wasn't bad at all. For you Daily Show fans it had Lewis Black as the bad guy and Rob Corddry. Plus some of the Arrested Development cast (why Fox, why?!)

Sure - we spent about $50 simply to be entertained and sit in air conditioned comfort but it was worth it! (hopefully their AC is not too hideous on the environment).

Righty Tank Goodness Update

Remember the "National Center for Policy Analysis"? Well whilst tooling around the web I came across their e-team. Yep, they have an e-team. I'm not sure if they tool around in a black van one step ahead of the Military Police who are hunting them from crimes they did not commit however.

The e-team can be found here.

Well, what role does the e-team serve for this fine think tank. Well in their favour it's a stable of scientists who believe what they do; to whit they are "one of the largest collections of energy and environmental policy experts and scientists who believe in sound science and that economic prosperity and protecting the environment can go hand and hand. The Team seeks to correct misinformation and promote sensible solutions to energy and environment problems."

So basically money meets science and hand in hand, Thelma and Louise style, they go up against those bastard academics and their own publicly funded science. Honestly, science should be left up to the commercial sector. Why the fuck do we even have academia? All they seem to do is say 'we were mean to black people' and 'don't do that, don't do that!'. You know what they are? They're a log on the railroad tracks of progress. What we should do is burn all universities to the ground - housing the surviving properly vetted scientists in special corporate communes and if there's no money to be made in a field of endevour or the research threatens the money flow - then that research is stopped. We can burn all the collected material in the town square.

Just as an aside, one of their scientists is David Demming. He seems experienced and well versed in his chosen field. All the more power to him. Luckily he's found the time to back our buddy Jim Inhofe with some well chosen press releases stating the good senator is clearly the smartest man in the room in the US senate when it comes to the environmental debate.

I wonder how much of the 70% of funding the e-team gets from the petroleum industry? It'd be fun to find out.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

12 tricks of the retail trade - from the Weekend Australian Magazine, Dec 9-10 2006

The sidebar from their excellent article on how shopping has become an Oz pastime. My comments in [these things].

Bait and Switch: where they run an advertising special to get people into the shop - but then the advertised item quickly sells out, leaving more expensive items. Customers don’t want to go home empty-handed. [It's true - I will often get the more expensive non sold out version.]

“Boomerang” supermarket layout, where commonly sought items are positioned in aisles far away from the entrance so anyone intent on nipping in and out for those items has to walk past lots of other goods. [Fucking Milk and Fucking Bread].

Entertainment – some form of in-store entertainment is based around certain products such as food, music or children’s toys, so the customer is emotionally primed to buy afterwards. [Nah, never watch in store entertainment. BUT I bet for kiddles that's the case.]

Escalator tactics – where you have to walk halfway around the shop floor to reach the next escalator, thus being exposed to strategically placed displays. [Grrr, Westfield Belconnen for one].

Promoting “affordable luxury” to middle-market buyers, which usually means a standard item promoted as superior and therefore pricier. Applies to everything from cleaning agents to ice-cream. [Yep - if I get Icecream chances are I get the cylinder x5 cost tub. But I am a dink so I can get away with that for now.]

“closing-down sales” in shops that take months to close. Players on the customers’ fears of missing out on a bargain. [Nah, don't give a shit if they're closing down.]

Point-of-sale displays: chocolate, magazines and other treats at the check-out to tempt bored kids and weary mothers. [Flake bars ... which I then eat "George style" with a fork when I get home.]

“Mini-me” luxury labels for children – Dolce & Gabbana, Escada - that mimic adult labels and cost almost as much. [Hilarious. Do people really do that?]

Racetrack layout in stores – shorter aisles and lower fixture heights to improve customer’s lines of sight and traffic flow. [Never noticed it but it makes sense.]

Visual reinforcement. At the front door and inside the store, signs repeating slogans such as “low prices. Every item. Every day”. [Reminds me of 1984; Freedom is Ignorance ... etc]

Cross-merchandising: got to buy a fax machine and the fax paper is stacked next to it; or paint brushes sold alongside tins of paint. [Well ... that makes sense I guess. But not in the ACT. Being a public service town and all...]

Upselling: constant suggestions to upgrade and buy more, until the customer says now. The “Would you like fries with that?” approach. [I get them to chuck half the popcorn from the tub since the fuckers don't sell small popcorn anymore. It blows their minds. Once one of them said "Um ... we're not allowed to do that."]


I loved this so much I had to "review" it and share it with y'all, esp since the W/E magazine does not seem to have an e-presence.