Friday, October 31, 2008

First Hangover in November

(Just quickly, first, in tomorrow's Derby, the horse called Whobegotyou could run backwards around the track with the rotting corpse of Kerry Packer on his back and still win. Put your house on it.)

So the Melbourne Cup is Tuesday which, even if you're not into horse racing, still manages to get most people's attention for a few minutes. It's the race that stops a nation (TM) (c) Pty. Ltd. AO. OAM. PhD.

In Victoria especially, it is a day for getting pissed at breakfast, overstuffing yourself with lobster for lunch, losing all your hard earned-cash in the afternoon and going to work on Wednesday with a massive hangover. It's my favourite day for the year, especially because the extended Perseusian family actually gets together for once. Christmas we're all a bit, "Meh, whatever" but Cup Day is massive for us.

On to the tips. Everyone has been talking about Septimus from the UK, you know, it's the best horse EVAH and shit, but it's only ever run on wet tracks in Europe and if it doesn't piss down the day before or on Cup Day, I say forget about it.

Mad Rush is another international raider that has a strong finish, and Littorio, who's like a pesky little girl, cannot be ruled out.

But my $10 each-way is going on a horse called Nom De Jeu, who came second in the Caulfield Cup (after coming last at the turn) and won the derby last year. It's an NZ horse and they have a great tradition of taking all that's dear to us. Melbourne Cups, our women, our sheep. It'll probably start at about 12/1, so if you put $10 each way ($20 total) and it wins, you'll get about $160 back.

So I suggest $10 each way on Nom de Jeu, and maybe $5 each way on Mad Rush just in case. Unless it pisses down in rain, then change that to Septimus. Total outlay: $30.

Or you could just spend that money on more piss.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Thou shalt not suffer a witch* to live.

The rapid approach of 31st October fills me with dread for two reasons.

Firstly, it’s more than likely that we’ll get some of the neighbourhood kids coming around to our front door, demanding “trick or treat”.

Given this will be on Friday evening and I’ll already be half-cut, I predict something along these lines.

Adorable neighbourhood kids: “Treat or treat!”

Me: “Aw, shit kids. I dunno what we’ve got but I’ll see if I can rustle up a couple of beers for you.’

Mrs INH: “RAMON!!!!!!!”

Seriously, haven’t we got enough crap popular culture from the US** already? It’s just beyond embarrassing.

Secondly, all the usual pagan deadshits will be banging on and on and on about “Beltane” and how the Christian church has stolen their holiday and witch burnings and the usual palaver.

Quite frankly – just fuck off. You’re with people that makes the Seventh Day Adventists look normal, you insist on going “sky-clad***” when you really, really, really don’t have the physique for it, you’ve got an (organic) chip on both shoulders and I’m not surprised the authorities killed so many of you in centuries past – it was probably to get you to SHUT THE FUCK UP!!

I don’t like any religion and I’ll be buggered if I’m going to make an exemption for your particular bag of gibberish.

And while we’re talking about wankers, can somebody suggest to Catherine Deveney she might like to put a fucking sock in it?

Sweet Jesus, she’ll be talking about dewdrops on roses and whiskers on kittens next.

*Obviously not you, Witchie.

**I am aware Halloween originated in iron-age Celtic cultures. Are you an iron-age Celt? Exactly, I thought not.

***In the nuddie.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Separated at birth: A Tale of Two Stephens

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us; we were all going directly to Heaven, we were all going the other way."
A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens.

Senator Stephen Fielding
Comedian Stephen Colbert

One of these men holds right-wing conservatives up to ridicule by adopting fringe political positions and making outlandish statements to great comedic effect.
So does the other, but he is a professional comedian.

One of these men ran for public office and, sadly, failed.
The other ran for public office and, sadly, succeeded.

One of these men wants to ban pornography from all internet-connected PCs (except those situated in Parliament offices).
The other freely admits he "loves cock" and molests young children.

One of these men wears an insouciant, childlike expression that hides an agile, intelligent mind.
The other just wears a vacant, childlike expression that hides nothing deeper than a kiddy's wading pool.

One of these men is brilliant.
The other is a complete cock.

Family First, You Are Dickheads

So, Senator Fielding (oh how it hurts to put those two words together) who got about 1% of the primary vote has weighed in on the Government's proposed 'filter' for the internet.

He wants hardcore porn and fetish sites blocked as well.

Because Mums and Dads surely don't look at hardcore porn and fetish sites, surely not, oh no. Only criminals look at porn. Gay atheist single childless lying criminals. They're the only ones that look at porn.

I for one would welcome some magical little box that can automatically stop anyone from accessing child porn, but is it possible (Boogeyman / Alex - TSFKA IT gurus)?

Maybe they could ban Wal's site while they're at it?

But hardcore porn and fetish sites... well, jeez, that's half the internet isn't it? And what's a fetish anyway? It can range from hot goats in bras to women firefighters in uniform to jizzin' on porcupines ( to, I dunno, whatever... that's the point, and it's all too wide and varied, and much if not all of it could be deemed harmless or even healthy (though I'm yet to find my fetish represented at any site: Someone please make a Hot Bisexual Chick Librarian Goth Richmond Supporters Disciplining Scrawny Men Returning Classical Literature Late Back To The Library fetish site. Typing one-handed already).

But I say to Senator Feilding, there is one fetish I find totally distasteful and I want you to have the sites that feature this fetish closed down, and if you promise to do so I shall support you in your Senatorial lobbying.

The sites feature a mostly naked man being whipped and spiked by burly men in togas until he is bleeding everywhere, then he is hoisted on to a large wooden torture rack and nailed to it through the wrists and ankles while a hooker weeps and washes his feet. Filth!

Senator, you will find it at any Christian or Biblical website.

Wedge Emotional Politics

I have a mate called Fanta who has recently split up with his wife, Sarong. They've been married for 15 years, together for 19 years. No infidelity or nothin' (and no kids either)... just an old fashioned split-up with a garnishing of 'midlife crisis'. He instigated it and left her.

Anyway, I've known Fanta since we were about 5 years old (neighbours as kids) so obviously, I get him in the divorce. Right now, because it's fresh, there's tears and frustrations but no anger from either of them, but that's possibly still to come. But already there's some positioning going on. He came down to stay with me on the weekend, and a couple of days before he arrived, Sarong emailed me with words to this effect...

"I'm worried about him, please talk to him and counsel him, please don't tell him I emailed you, I'll be really upset if you tell him I emailed you, and please report back to me how it all goes."

I did two things. Firstly, I emailed her straight back with words to this effect.

"I have been friends with Fanta for 35 years so I'm not going to hide anything from him, ever, and nor will I spy on him for you. I wish you all the best though. "

Then I forwarded Sarong's email to Fanta.

Which of course caused a kerfuffle.

Fanta tells me that I am not the only one she has emailed. Now in my case, my allegiance is simple, but they have many friends that they met as a couple who don't have an allegiance either way. Sarong has been conctacting all of them, and Fanta claims she is attempting a pre-emptive strike of sorts, or a kind of wedge politics. Right now, their mutual friends are in contact with both both of them, but if it gets nasty... there'll be splits. Often, there just has to be.

Because he left her and not the other way around, he is not in the position to play this wedge politics game, but he also doesn't want to lose friends. Right now, everyone is being adult but it'll happen, sure as the day is bright, that friendships will be burned and sides will be taken.

He asked me to blog on this so as to save money on counselling / travel fees to Jerry Springer Show for, "My Ex Wife Stole All Our Mutual Friends".

An experiences / advice?

Thursday, October 23, 2008

The Oz is shit: official.

I was going to write a long, angry post about how shit the Australian newspaper is, but Professor John Quiggin beat me to it.

He's an academic, so he's all erudite and stuff, and it's well worth a look*.

I do like this piece;

The Oz is now essentially worthless as a source of information. Some individual journalists** are still pretty good, and articles with their bylines are worth reading. But if their weather report predicted sunshine, I’d pack an umbrella, just in case.

You tell 'em, Prof.

*He doesn't even use the words "cunt", "owl-fucker" or "Dennis Shanahan". That's how smart he is.

**I'd include our old friend and owl-fancier Christian Kerr in that category but the rest of them are mostly shit.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Not That There’s Anything Wrong With That, Except Everything.

(Sorry, this is long-ish)

The Seventh Day Adventist Church, despite some half-decent philanthropic work and a few truly good-natured individuals, are collectively whack.

As a Church they support what’s known as Young Earth Creationism (the Earth being only 6,000 years old), ‘Intelligent Design’ and they were right in the middle of the ‘Harry Potter is evil’ PR fiasco. Oh, and they ban dancing. Because it leads to sex or something.

It’s little wonder they’re so whack given their origins - they are the offspring of the dumber Millerites.

The Millerites were a group who were convinced that on October 23, 1844, the world would come to the end and they would all ascend to heaven and shit. In Adventist circles, that day is known as ‘The Great Disappointment’.

You see, when the sun rose that morning and the the angels hadn't blown their trumpets and the sinners hadn't been cast into the bowels of Hell, many kind of said, "Oh fuck, how embarrassing," and just got on with their lives.

But, a handful of the particularly retarded Millerites (a little obsessed with numerology and mysticism ‘hidden’ in the bible) actually went on to say that the world had in fact entered a ‘seventh millenium’ on that day. My interpretation of what these arseclowns were saying (after wading through their stupid stupid texts) is that Jesus rocked up to heaven that day and started to mop the floors of Paradise in readiness for the true believers – which is the Seventh Day Adventists.

Not long after The Great Disappointment a disgraceful and bitter hag called Ellen G White started writing a lot of bullshit and she is revered by them as a prophet.

Cut forward to 2008, when the only thing that’s mainstream about this church is their ownership of Sanitarium... most famous for Weet Bix.

They have a fortnightly full colour glossy magazine called ‘Record’ which has a massive readership in Australia, NZ and the South Pacific (26,000) and it is a clever mix of softcore religion and mainstream articles. Earlier in the year they interviewed Sam Mitchell, Captain of Hawthorn, on the topic of ‘Leadership’ and put his square head on the front cover so as to attract non-aligned readers. And so they should -if they are attempting to ‘reach out’ to possible converts.

‘Record’ has a good history of avoiding the more whacky fringe elements of Adventism... all the fire and brimstone shit, and there’s nary a mention of their Young Earth Creationist stance, but at` the same time they tip-toe through issues that would confront their beliefs as well, like evolution, and (finally getting to my point) homosexuality.

This all changed on October 4, 2008, when the new-ish, young and savvy and obviously socially aware senior editor of Record, Nathan Brown, single-handedly tried to drag this dangerous and foul religion into the modern world. He wrote an editorial about homosexuality saying things like:

“From a Christian perspective, the Bible says little about homosexuality. No more than five references...”

“Belying the noise of various Christian activists, it is difficult to argue homosexuality as a specifically important moral issue from a Biblical perspective.”

“Our silence is part of the problem. When the issue is not faithfully, carefully and sensitively addressed, the unspoken pressure to conform to ‘normality’ gives rise to deep-seated personal tension, double lives and dishonest relationships.”

“...homosexual people are people, human beings with hopes, faiths, fears and failings... like us.”

“...they need places to belong and communities in which they can share and grow in faith.”

I would like to link to the article but October 4's edition seems to be mysteriously missing from the Record’s online archives.

Now, obviously, this is just ‘Real Life 101’ for most of us, but not for the Seventh-day Adventists.

Sources from within the church have told me that poor Nathan Brown has copped a hammering from the elders of the church, not to mention the readership of the magazine for which he’s responsible*. ‘Record‘ is not an independent media publication – it is owned and operated by the Church and as such, it has to toe the line.

Which explains the yet-to-be-released November 1 ‘statement’ by the same editor that has been leaked to me.

Here’s some extracts.

“The Adventist Church has a clear position on homosexuality, based on the teachings of the Word of God...”

“Seventh-day Adventists believe that sexual intimacy belongs only within the marital relationship of a man and a woman. This was the design established by God at creation.”

“The Bible makes no accommodation for homosexual activity or relationships.”

“...we regret the misunderstanding surrounding the publication of (the other article)”


(If you would like the full articles, email me)


This is a fucking disgrace. This is hateful propaganda hiding behind superstitious belief, and it has no place in the modern world.

Seventh-day Adventism is on the way out, surely. They can’t cling to these archaic and vile opinions and expect to last through the 21st Century. And it's a shame, because you'd imagine that amongst the rank and file there's probably normal people, brought up in the church, who know it's whack but can't get a word in.

Religion again, fucking things up.

I say to the Seventh-day Adventist church: “Your time has been and gone. Time to close your shop. Thank you for the Weet Bix, but you can all just fuck off and go away now. You are no longer needed.”

* Allegedly he also received many letters of support, but that’s neither here no there to the Elders.

Punter: "My scruffy shame"

Get a shave, goose.



I know things are a bit tough at the moment.

Your batting career seems to be going down the toilet, you’re leading a team that played like a pack of dills and the way we’re going, we’d be hard-pressed to beat the Irish test team, but really – is this any excuse for letting yourself go like this.

I mean, is it really so hard to shave properly.

Get a grip man. What sort of message is this to be sending to the yoof of Australia?

And speaking of yoof.

The Hun today had their front page, a two-page splash and an editorial all devoted to the shenanigans of some Year 12 students at Melbourne’s Xavier College – a posho mick school in the eastern suburbs – because OMG, OMG, OMG, it’s the end of civilisation as we know it.

Or not.

As the case may be.

At least it knocked the Lapthornes off the front page.

Monday, October 20, 2008


1. ...To 17 year old Gabriella Cilmi who won seven ARIA awards, the premier Australian music industry award. Never heard of her.

2. ...To Amit Mishra, who took 5/71 and almost single-handedly put an end to Australia's 20 years' dominance at the top of world cricket rankings. Never heard of him.

I need to start paying more attention to the world around me.

But most importantly, congratulations to Colin Powell (who of course we all know, but I do like to pronounce his name as 'Coll-in' and not 'Coh-lin' as is the general consensus. I mean Jesus, what's next? "Gee-org-er?" ) for timing his endorsement for Barack Obama perfectly. If he came out six months ago and said it, we'd have forgotten. If he said it two days' out, we'd be cynical. What beautiful timing for a Republican to jump ship? Oh yes, there's the many who'll think it a 'black thing', but, you know, I think it's more a realist thing. Mr. Powell's reputation was shattered a few years ago, and what better way to re-assert his alpha-statesman status by backing a clear winner?

It's not about ethics, because there are none.

This is politics.

I wonder if there's any top advisory jobs going?

(Boogeyman could invest his $2 already.)

Friday, October 17, 2008

Roseanne Barr is a moron.

The following is an angry tirade. It contains frequent strong language and use of the word “fuck-knuckle”. Readers of a nervous disposition may want to skip over and continue reading about Perseus’ love life.

This interview with Roseanne Barr in the Guardian had me roaming the office, biting chucks out of the office furniture in rage.

In particular, this bit;

She believes that society wants women "on anti-depressants so they are no longer creative or fierce". Has she taken anti-depressants? "Oh, hell yeah. There isn't anything that I haven't done. They dull your rage. People don't like angry women so they say, 'We're going to have to drug that bitch to get her to shut up. We will humiliate her and disenfranchise her, but first she has to shut up.' Oh yeah, I did those anti-depressants the last time I was famous. I needed to dull the horror of it.”

Well, I’m sorry about your life Roseanne, but you’re talking shit. Complete shit.

Depression is many things, but it isn’t about being “creative or fierce”. Depression is not about feeling rage, it’s about feeling nothing.

Depression is about feeling you’re falling, endlessly falling and you don’t know how to stop.

Depression is doing the washing-up and finding yourself weeping for no reason.

Depression is about drinking yourself into a stupor in the hope that maybe, just maybe, the terrible howling in your head will stop for a while.

Depression is about sitting out in the backyard after midnight with a bottle of red wine, holding a knife* to your wrist while the little soundtrack in your head says “doitdoitdoitdoit**”.

I’m sick of this stupid myth that anti-depressants will turn you into a zombie, a robot.

Well, it fucking doesn’t – not if you have a good doctor who listens to you. This myth means many people who can get the medical help they need – don’t.

And that’s not something I’d wish on anybody. Not even Roseanne Barr.

*You know that very, very very sharp knife you normally use for slicing up onions and garlic. That one.

**Happily my soundtrack is now “Going Underground” by The Jam. Much better, I’m sure you’ll agree.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Heaven's Got A Place For Country Trash

I went into the big smoke yesterday. Gee, them skyscrapers are mighty big.

My day:

1. Visited a (business) supplier. I said, “You have given my company a credit limit of $2,000. That’s all well and good, except that our average order is $5,000, and therefore, the so-called ‘credit’ is meaningless. We’ve been giving you work and money for three years now, we’re fully up to day with our payments, and I demand that you stop this stupid ‘COD’ rubbish keeping in mind that … Umm, why are you crying?”

“Sorry, one of our staff members suicided, we’re all a bit shattered right now… now, what were you saying about credit?”

“Umm, it doesn’t matter. Sorry.”

2. Went to Nam Loong, one of those off-Chinatown joints that’s cheap, loud, crass, you have to share tables and the wait staff are rude as. For $8 I got the best meal I’ve had in months. In the stupid yuppy seaside tourist town I live, service comes with a smile but $8 won’t even get you an entrée. You don’t realise how lucky you are in cities for having access to such great cooking. The country may provide the produce, but the city provides the meals.

3. For the first time in my life I saw a movie, at a cinema, by myself. I always thought I’d feel like a total loser if I went into a cinema by myself. When other people tell me they’ve been to a cinema by themselves I think they’re cool, but I just never had the courage to do it. Now I’ve done it and my life has changed. It’s fantastic. You can sit where you want, fidget, nobody talks to you… I’m never seeing a film with a friend again. The movie I saw was ‘In Bruges’. Film Review: One big ‘meh’.

4. Caught up win an ex (from 9 years ago) who, for the last 9 years I’ve secretly wished I was still with (even though I ended it at the time, because I was a shallow idiot). We’re still very close friends. She announced her engagement. She has asked me to be ‘MC’ at her wedding. “I’m honoured,” I said, and my task between now and then is to work out how I can MC their wedding without bursting into tears.

5. In the evening, my band went into the studio to do a night of backing vocals for songs we’ve recorded in the past few months. Highlight: Writing in big texta words on a piece of paper, “Oh-law-dee-oh-day-oh-dee-oh” and then taking twenty takes to get it right. There were problems because nobody remembered to bring any cannabis. I don’t smoke pot so I didn’t care (potheads = boring meatheads) but the rest of the band struggled through the process.

6. Hamburger from Embassy Café on Spencer Street at 12.15am. There are no better hamburgers in the world than from this 24hr taxi-driver café. A better hamburger you say? BULL FUCKING SHIT!

7. Grocery shopping at Geelong at 1.15am. Who shops for groceries in working-class country towns at that time? The drugged, the drunk, the insane, the ill-adjusted and the desperately lonely. You want a snapshot of the rubble of Western Society? Shop for groceries in the middle of the night in a country town. Lock the car.

8. Came home at about 3am. Logged on to find Ramon has insulted my friend. I made a lame defense. Fed angry cat and went straight to bed.

9. Couldn't sleep.

But what have the Romans ever done for us?

Minutes of the Socialist Workers Alliance Action Party, North Fitzroy branch.

Comrade Chair: “Comrades, we must take the fight up to the Rudd traitor, sell-out, bourgeois lackey government and declare an immediate general strike*. What have they ever done for us, the bastards?”

Comrade One: “Apologised to indigenous Australians?”

Comrade Chair: “Yes, well…”

Comrade Two: “Signed Kyoto?”

Comrade Chair: “OK, but…”

Comrade Three: “Abolished WorkChoices?”

Comrade One: “Got rid of mandatory detention?”

Comrade Two: “Told the Chinese to pull their heads in?”

Comrade One: “Cut the private insurance companies off the drip-feed?”

Comrade Chair: “OK, OK but apart from Kyoto, the apology, WorkChoices, mandatory detention, human rights and health care reform – what has the Rudd Government ever done for us?”

Comrade One: “Announced a $10 billion package aimed mainly at lower-income earners in a classic piece of Keynesian economic pump-priming?”

Comrade Chair: “Oh, fuck off!”

* It reminds me of that crack by Alexi Sayle. “Why do the SWP always call for a general strike? I mean, the last one was a rip-roaring, gob-smacking success, wasn’t it?”

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Some random thoughts on a slow news day

Missy Higgins.

Remember her? The media used to be over her like a cheap suit and now – nothing.

Gone. Disappeared. Vanished.

No great loss, but it strikes me as odd that someone could rise and fall so suddenly.

The Bible code.

Some years ago, some goose came up with a theory that the future could be predicted by analysing certain key phrases in the Bible. Biblical scholars poo-poohed this, yet consider.

The Bible states clearly “thou shall not suffer a witch to live” and three thousand years later we have Wendy Rule and Fiona Horne – both high-profile dickheads witches.

What were the writers of the Bible trying to tell us and what new horrors lurk?

John Pilger/Noam Chomsky – does anybody still take these cunts seriously (apart from Jeff Sparrow, I mean)?

And finally

How do you get girls to like you? I’ve been asking around and results are inconclusive.

That’s it.

Something intelligent tomorrow, maybe.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Sam Elliott was never called an arsehole

Sam Elliott and moustache

Wonderful news comrades, Operation Georges Clemenceau has been given the green light.

The following exchange occurred last night while watching The Golden Compass, featuring Sam Elliott , above.

Me: “One day, I’m going to grow a walrus moustache, like Sam Elliott.”

Mrs INH: “Umm…


There you have it.

As to the film itself, to use a phrase made popular by my old comrade Perseus over at Perseus Q, “fuck it was shithouse”.

The film is based on the first book of Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy; a series which is, apparently, a subtle and nuanced denunciation of God and organised religion.

Well comrades, there were some angry denunciations coming forth from the living room of Lenin House last night but they were only indirectly addressed to the almighty.

The makers of The Golden Compass clearly suffered an attack of the heebie-jeebies* and decided to remove from their film any reference to religion. Or God. Or anything that might make the film interesting or watchable or even vaguely coherent.

In the end we’re left with a film mostly about armoured, talking polar bears and Nicole Kidman.

Of the two, the armoured, talking polar bears were the more believable.

Oh and in other news...

World economy still going to hell in a hand basket, Sarah Palin still corrupt, right-wing lunatic, cat still surly, aggressive.

Hope you lot are all keeping well.

*May not be the correct technical film-making term.

Friday, October 10, 2008

The global economic crisis - explained!

Many of you, I know, are furrowing your brow and shaking your head in a fruitless attempt to understand the global economic crisis*.

I’ve been following events closely and reading all the experts and I don’t have the foggiest about what’s happening either (and neither, I suspect, has anybody else).

I have noticed, however, certain turns of phrase keep cropping up so as a bonus to YOU, the loyal readers of TSFKA, I present the “Ramon Insertnamehere Handy-Dandy, cut out and keep, bluffers guide to the recent global economic unpleasantness”.

The important thing is to stress is “this is a liquidity crisis, rather than a credit crisis”. Now, for you and me (and more particularly, me) a “liquidity crisis” is where the pub hasn’t opened yet but it seems that money is like water – which means it can be boiled to make a refreshing cup of tea.

So there’s not enough money sloshing around the system, which means the major financial institutions are being forced to go to the financial regulators to ask for another bucket of water until the global plumber gets back from his tea break and reconnects the pipes.

The second point to stress that the Australian banks are still fundamentally sound. Why we should have more liquidity in the middle of a severe drought is something that has not, to my knowledge, been addressed but it probably boils down to Kruddy being very, very clever and keeping an extra bucket out by the back shed at The Lodge.

Or something.

The third point is that this is an international crisis. Extra points for knowing five countries in the G-7 group and throwing in references to the Bretton Woods Conference, the IBRD, GATT and IMF.

There you have it. You may want to print this out and put it on your fridge, so you don’t look like a complete goose at dinner parties** when the subject comes up.

*Except for EMS who has been googling Rebecca Smart, so she can track her down and give her a richly deserved smacking.

**I am no longer invited to dinner parties, after that unfortunate “Catherine Deveny incident”.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Will the film Australia suck or what?

The omens do not bode well.

First – it’s taken 36 million years for Australia to make it to the screens (not that – you know – it’s actually on the screens yet). This suggests big, big problems in either the shooting or in post-production.

Second – it’s directed by Baz Luhrmann, this country’s most overrated film director*.

Third – it stars Nicole Kidman. The Nickster hasn’t had that flash a record of late – possibly because people take one look at that weird, blank mask her face has become and decided they’re not in the mood for a horror film.

Still, the Age is happy to puff the film, noting;

The movie will feature Nicole Kidman playing an uptight English aristocrat who is transformed by the country itself — albeit with a little help from the roguish charms of Hugh Jackman.

Oh God, nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

Fuck it Baz, why not through in a few more clichés, like the “noble savage” or an action set piece tacked on, like the Japanese bombing of Darwin.

Oh wait, you have. My apologies.

The Age says of the “visit Australia you cunts” films Baz has been shooting for Tourism Australia;

They all carry the message: "To find yourself sometimes you need to lose yourself. In Australia they call this going walkabout".

No, in Australia we call this “being a wanker”.

*Jane Campion doesn’t count, as she’s from New Zealand.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Go away, or I will kill you. I mean this.

I’ve been following the recent debate about Bill Henson being allowed into a Melbourne school ground without the knowledge of parents in some detail and I’ve come to this conclusion.

I don’t give a fuck.

I was sick to the back teeth with this when it first came around and my opinion hasn’t shifted.

The only thing worse than Henson himself, whose vanity and ego is matched only by his sense of entitlement, is the shrieking dickheads who have populated this “debate” in recent days.

Peter Farris – fuck off

David Marr – fuck off

Neil Mitchell – fuck off

Jeff Sparrow – fuck off and die slowly from a painful wasting disease that causes your head to swell to twice its natural size and your testicles to rot away slowly.

In short;

I’m sick of your endless, pompous moralising, the cheap political points you make rather than debating the issue, the snide personal cracks, the sense that you’re entitled to make your lame-arse points in the national media, the same tired debating tactics you first used in your private school thirty years ago.

Enough. Stop.

To quote one of my great heroes, Oliver Cromwell, “In the name of God, go”.

Monday, October 6, 2008

What every home handymensch needs!

The Clash's bass player Paul Simonon, taking out his frustration after trying to assemble some Ikea furniture

On the weekend, I had some chores to do around the house.

The Mrs and The Boy set off to the library (a necessity as he’s of the age where he desperately wants to “help”. Myself and the cat have quickly learned that his offers to “help” often end up involving mess, chaos, confusion and usually tears – often from The Boy)

“Righto” I thought to myself “this is a big job and there’s no way it can be tackled without alcohol and extremely loud music”.

So I cracked open a Coopers, put on The Clash’s "London Calling" and pumped that sucker up to 27.

Apart from the occasional break where I took some time off to pogo around the livingroom, it was a most productive afternoon.

In the unlikely event I ever become an international figure, with an adoring public hanging off my every word, I would be only too happy to endorse Coopers Sparking Ale and The Clash as indispensable tools to the home handyman.

Also – I can listen to "Clampdown” until the blood is dripping from the speakers. Is there a better opening line than “Taking off his turban/they say ‘is this man a jew?’,” in rock music?

And is there a sadder (or truer) one than “So you grow up and you calm down”?

I think not.

Jesus, Too Early!

Just like Weekend Hussler's stupid 4-deep run around the bend about 400 metres before it was necessary (trifecta: ruined), the following is a list of things that happen too early.

1. US Presidential Coverage: This has been going since late last year when Hilary and Barack first started mucking about. I’ve been hearing about this fucking election for almost a year and I’m so, so sick of it. Hurry up and hold the election for fuck’s sake. I hate you all.

2. Christmas. It’s only October and already my local supermarket have snuck some tinsel out. There should be a law that Christmas decorations can be legally marketed only after December 1.

3. Melbourne Cup betting. There’s about 400 horses still eligible. How about you all wait until the week beforehand, after acceptances, before running me through the form-guide?

4. Daylight Saving(s). I got an extra hour of sunlight in my afternoon yesterday. I didn’t care.

5. Costello’s Diaries. He’s still in Parliament! So, he’s restrained, to a degree (by the way, I’ll be reading/reviewing this book in the next fortnight). Attention all politicians and sportspeople – wait until you’ve retired and can speak openly before releasing your magnum opus, otherwise your words are just a collection of dry, boring observations that barely improve the blank page. Thanks.

6. Costello’s Retirement. Instead of rumour, innuendo, educated guesses, suppositions and scenarios, how about everyone just waiting until he does retire from Parliament before writing about his impending retirement from parliament.

7. Speculation that U2’s next album will be shit. How about we all wait and listen to it first? Then again… their last 5 or 6 albums have been shit, so maybe it’s fair enough to go early on this. Yep. I'm going early on this one. It’ll be shit.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

A message of peas to the world

I get any number of oddball messages in my inbox, women writing “Ramon, you sexy beast, fill me with your mighty organ*”, that sort of thing.

But now comes the most exciting message of all.

A chap by the name of Arthur Stubbs writes;

my name is Arthur Stubbs and I would like to draw Your attention to the Project "".

I have found Your contact email address on and my impression is that You are a respectable blogger**. That is why I have decided to make a cooperation proposal. The Project is an unprecedented space advertising campaign that aims at compiling and sending a catalog of photos and logotypes into outer space.

Please, visit Project blog or on blogspot and consider special offer for bloggers. Official site of the Project is

Fell free to share this information with Your friends

Crikey, a chance to send TSFKA into space! Picture it comrades; Perseus’ dud romantic life, EMS’ tales of wacky high-jinks at her school, Puss’ increasingly alarming series of quirks, me calling everyone on the Age a cunt – all blasted into space to circle the earth.

With luck, it may even make contact with alien lifeforms.

Man would be a fool to pass up such an opportunity.

*To which my response is “Dear Madam, I’m sorry, but I do not have a ‘mighty organ’. I do however possess a broken toy piano. Trust this will suffice.”

**I am now considered a “respectable blogger”, so the rest of you can get fucked


I've just noticed, this is TSFKA's 100th post. Who'd have thunk it.

Big Brother Is Watching... Phew. I Feel Safer.

George Orwell: "I've been taken out of context."

Every time any authority comes up with an idea to keep us all safe, some arseclown from the X Civil Liberties Whatever Organisation comes thundering out and about. “Oh, it’s an infringement on our rights!” they yell.

I have a good friend who works in forensics and she’s trained up on that whole ‘face recognising’ thingamajig; you know, a camera that zooms in on people’s faces as they walk down the street and can recognise wanted criminals and shit. From what she’s told me, there’s certain barriers preventing it from being used extensively in the country. Budget, for one thing. Arseclowns opposing it, for another.

I’m getting old, I’m getting old, I’m getting old. “I have nothing to hide,” is my opinion. Bring it on! Put cameras on every street corner. Make me carry some Australia Card ID. Plant audio devices in my bedroom. I don’t care. If it means nabbing a psychopath who would otherwise do injury to me or others, it’s fine by me. I personally don’t give a flying fuck if some camera zooms in on my face as I’m walking down Brunswick Street with spinach stuck between my teeth. I’m not a wanted criminal. Whatever.

Same goes for x-ray scanning at airports, which Fairfax reports today is being criticized by some douche pulling the tired infringement on our rights line.

I love Orwell, and his ‘Big Brother’ message is being misconstrued by a bevy of fuck-knuckles who have probably never read his books. His point was about Governments controlling people. X-Ray machines at airports aren’t about controlling us, they are about preventing apocalyptic whack-jobs from bringing weapons on to planes, and decreasing the flow of smack, fauna, laundered cash and so on.

I say to the various Civil Liberties hystericals, what is more intrusive on my ‘liberty’? An x-ray machine at an airport, or a psycho with a knife at my throat?

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Oh yeah, rock on baby!

My band did a show in a small but well-respected pub.

The venue forgot to advertise it, and when they finally remembered to put a sign out front, they got the night wrong.

Still, we have loyal fans.

Here’s the financial report.

$50 roundtrip petrol for me coming from Hicksville.
$60 petrol for everyone else ($10 each – we’re a 7 piece band)
$100 grog and snacks after the rider ran out

Entry was $8 a head. The venue holds about 150 people, and we filled it.

Only 80 bothered to pay – being that the venue didn’t provide a doorperson, it was left to whoever was closest.

80 x $8 = $640.

The sound-guy got $120 ($40 per band)
Support act 1 got $150*
Support act 2 got $250**
Venue takes $1 a head for some reason - $80
We gave the DJ a $20 tip
We gave the fill-in bass player $50
Less the $210 petrol and grog costs (above)
Less 4 x pills from some shady drug dealer we met in the loading bay at $30 each

Incoming $640
Outlays $1000

Result: Perseus and the Sea Creatures***: minus $360

We're doing a gig on NYE for $1000. We should come out square.

It’s a very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very long way to the top if you want to rock and roll.

* Nobody came to see them, and they were shit.
** About 10 people came to see them, and they were pretty good.
*** Not our real name.