How to really shock Melbourne people.

You didn't read "The Slap"? You monster!

I had the following conversation with my sister the other day.

My sister: “Did you see the latest episode of The Slap?”

Me: “I’m not watching The Slap.”

My sister: “Oh, it’s just that I thought you might be interested in how it compared with the book.”

Me: “I didn’t read the book.”

At which point she stared at me for some seconds in gobsmacked horror, as if I’d said I had a sneaking admiration for Tony Abbott.

But it’s all true. I haven’t read The Slap and have no intention to, because;

• The author sort of annoys me,
• I’m spent most of my life avoiding the sort of arseholes that populate the book* and have no desire to make their acquaintance now and
• Books that are described as “capturing the zeitgeist of the time” really, really, really annoy me.

Why, I can’t really say. Partly it might be intellectual snobbery, a queasiness about reading a book that everybody else seems to be reading, but mostly because they’re often shit; the sort of book that people look back on in ten year’s time and say “what on earth were we thinking, this is shit**”.

I may change my mind about The Slap. But I doubt it.

* Based on the reviews, obvs.

** Having said that, Oranges are not the only fruit holds up pretty well. The same does not apply for The Bone People. The Bone People brings to mind Dorothy Parker’s line about a book she was reviewing; “This is not a book to set aside lightly. It should be hurled with great force”.

No reason.

A "sometimes the anti-depressants take a while to kick in" PSF

We're alone in a Godless, meaningless universe. Here's a picture of kittens.

 I'd sell your heart to the junkman baby
For a buck, for a buck
If you're looking for someone to pull you out of that ditch
You're out of luck, you're out of luck

Ship is sinking
The ship is sinking
The ship is sinking

There's a leak, there's a leak in the boiler room
The poor, the lame, the blind
Who are the ones that we kept in charge?
Killers, thieves and lawyers

God's away, God's away
God's away on business, business
God's away, God's away
God's away on business, business

Digging up the dead with a shovel and a pick
It's a job, it's a job
Bloody moon rising with a plague and a flood
Join the mob, join the mob
It's all over, it's all over
It's all over

There's a leak, there's a leak in the boiler room
The poor, the lame, the blind
Who are the ones that we kept in charge?
Killers, thieves and lawyers

God's away, God's away
God's away on business, business
God's away, God's away on business, business

Godddamn there's always such a big temptation
To be good, to be good
There's always free cheddar in a mousetrap, baby
It's a deal, it's a deal

God's away, God's away
God's away on business, business
God's away, God's away
God's away on business, business

I narrow my eyes like a coin slot baby
Let her ring, let her ring

God's away, God's away
God's away on business, business
God's away, God's away
God's away on business, business

A very cynical PSF

Nice crown!

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,
A medley of extemporanea;
And love is a thing that can never go wrong;
And I am Marie of Romania.


Because last week's was so sweet.

Qantas. Part eleventy billion.

The latest addition to the Qantas fleet.

I know I don’t expect much from the Canberra Gallery these days. But I would have hoped that even the dimmest hack’s reaction to repeated claims from the Opposition about the crisis at Qantas that “the Government should have stepped in earlier” would have been to ask “ummm… why?”

The dispute, before the management of the airline grounded the entire fucking Qantas fleet, was grinding slowly towards a resolution- as the industrial umpire Fair Work Australia has already noted.

Nor was there any wide-scale disruption to the travelling public, until management’s little dummy-spit.

Qantas management grounded the fleet. The Government went to Fair Work Australia, who ordered management to un-ground it*.

Which they did.

I fail to see the problem.

My boss at the union where I worked as an organiser had a saying, along the lines of “every industrial dispute gets resolved eventually”.

This was happening in Qantas. For the Opposition to now claim that the Government should intervene in an industrial dispute because of…stuff… suggests their grasp of industrial reality on the ground is somewhat less than through.

* They also ordered the unions to suspend their industrial action. Which I rather suspect was the whole point of this caper**.

** I also rather suspect this is akin to trimming your toenails with a shotgun, but I’m not the one being paid the big bucks.

The lamest PSF EVAH!

 The Queen! On a tram!

Idid but see her passing by,
And yet I'll love her, till I die.

Later

She did but pass me by again!
She was talking to some bloke called Ken.

Yeah. Bastard foxes!

Oi! Fox! Stop spoiling the vines!

I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys.

As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.

As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.

He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.

Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love.

His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me.

I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.

The voice of my beloved! Behold, he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills.

My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: behold, he standeth behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, shewing himself through the lattice.

My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.

For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;

The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;

The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.

Take us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes.

My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lilies.

Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.

Shurly some mistake

Don't mind if I do!

In what was obviously the aftermath of Ride to Work Day, a work colleague had a sticker on their desk saying "I love riding to work".

For some seconds, I thought it said "I love drinking at work".

What this says about my default mental position, I shudder to think.

a very lower case psf

i love you much(most beautiful darling)

more than anyone on the earth and i

like you better than everything in the sky

-sunlight and singing welcome your coming

although winter may be everywhere

with such a silence and such a darkness

noone can quite begin to guess

(except my life)the true time of year-

and if what calls itself a world should have

the luck to hear such singing(or glimpse such

sunlight as will leap higher than high

through gayer than gayest someone's heart at your each

nearness)everyone certainly would(my

most beautiful darling)believe in nothing but love 

Families, eh!

What Bill said.

Over the last school holidays, I had the chance to spend a week with The Boy doing…umm…boys’ stuff.

Nothing that spectacular; a visit to the National Sports Museum, a boat on the river, a hit of mini-golf, the sort of stuff you can do when it’s sunny outside.

The good thing is that The Boy is still very keen to have both his dad and his mum involved in his life, to the point where he passed up the opportunity to have dinner at a mate’s place because “he was lonely for his mum and dad”.

I know this won’t last and it shouldn’t last. They grow up and they grow away. That’s how you get the next generation of adults. But it’s nice to have these sorts of memories, something I never really had with my own dad.

Bill Murray in Lost in Translation said something like, “when your kids are born, it’s terrifying because you know nothing will ever be the same, but they learn how to walk and they learn how to talk and they become the most fascinating people you’ll ever meet”.

So far, he’s spot on the money.

I apologies for the revolting level of mawkishness in this post. The next one will be full of abuse and sarcasm, possibly involving Tony Abbott.

And/or owls.