Okay. I know the new year is already upon us and everything, but let’s just pretend that it’s still the 31st of December, 2003, so that we can furthermore pretend that I sneaked my year-in-review observations in under the wire. I am fabricating my doctor’s note as we speak so that you’ll accept this piece without taking any marks off for my lateness. Oh, and I have two dogs, so like, cut me some slack. Cyber paper can be eaten, you know! My god, that's a try-hard joke. Anyway, my editor, Guy [have you gone crazy? Marcia Hines is evil], requested this piece from me with more than a few days to spare, but I had a few blockages to deal with before I could get it underway. Firstly, there was the question of whether or not it was too cliché to do one of these ‘travesties and triumphs’, ‘cheers and jeers’, ‘best and the not so muches’ of 2003 when it appeared that everyone else was doing them and had already filed them in good time. When I spoke of my intention to write one, my little brother whined, “Oh dude. Everyone is doing those. What’s the point?” So now, I present my retort. “What’s the point? What’s the point?! Listen, you little pipsqueak [looming above me]. You’re not even a member of my audience, so what’s it to ya? I actually have an obligation to those troubled souls who exhibit the good taste to hang on my every utterance, and the fact that you even dared to pose the question ‘What’s the point?’ proves that you have a lot to learn about permissible blog material. Asshole.” The point also is that, well, everyone is doing them. And we here at Symposiasts need to match them, as a token of our legitimacy as published cultural commentarians. We know how to play the game. To be left behind the pack at this early [oh, I mean late. Late! It’s December 31st people! Remember it] stage of the year might set a precedent that could determine… well, nothing really. But, you know, there’s all this pressure at the moment to like, start as you mean to go on, and all that. The second blockage to beginning this piece was probably the more influential one. Namely, I can’t remember a freakin thing that happened this year. Well, I can, but, you know what I mean. It’s all hazy and inconsequential now. But I shall try. I even did some research in an attempt to jog my memory and situate happenings within the time-space continuum… so I, uh, like, read some other people’s years-in-review. And now, let’s let loose on this thing.

The E List of Things I Can Remember About The Year 2003

Okay, let me just say that the following will not be taking the form of a list. If the above title misled you in any way, well, sue me [don’t! Please, please don’t. And anyway, I think the first sentence of this post-title paragraph actually acts as a disclaimer. So there!]. And hey, you don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me. Hah hah! Track me down if you’re a psycho [please don’t, esp if psycho] but otherwise, let’s move on. Sheesh. So testy. And anyway, I have only just started composing this thing, so who knows? Maybe some list-like elements will be appearing in the mix before this thing is through for all you old-schoolers out there. Hard core. Okay, so now to the actual stuff. Yeah! Woop! Alright! I am not prattling to delay the actual airing of opinions here. I do not fear the spectre of [by virtue of a lack of preparedness] omitting something HUGE and thereby losing all, well, [delicately testing the waters] ‘cred’. You guys will take anything, and we all know it. So, no fear. Let’s, ah, go.

Could I just begin by saying that I really couldn’t give a toss that this year marked the return to television of Andrew Denton? However, I really could give a toss that Shaun Micallef was removed from it [and I mention these two men together without meaning for you to infer that I think it appropriate for them to always be mentioned together]. And moving on, I will now express my frustration that every single person [excepting Kate Langbroek who rightly accused Ben of emotional battery] called upon to broadcast an opinion about Big Brother, was a dick. Why on earth did they expect us all to be on tenterhooks about the next ‘surprise’ BB would be dishing out? Doesn’t anybody get that the whole reason we’re watching the show is the people who are on it? The debates and arguments we have are only about the people; who we like, who we loathe, etc. Predicting the winner is beside the point until the final week, and Gretel’s outfits can rarely sustain anything more than a “What did you think of what she was wearing?” followed by the response, “Eh!?” [shrug]. Um, what else? Rove, despite being ubiquitous, actually managed to disappear from my radar this year [except for that time during the Comedy Festival when I spotted him and Belinda talking to that Comedy Inc. guy in the row in front of me]. Is his show good? Do we still watch it? Also this year, my relationship with Wil Anderson soured irrevocably. I used to think he was okay, and then he got good-looking so I actually paid money to see his festival shows, even though they were boring but somehow irritating at the same time. My sister, who likes him, made me pay money for a few more years, but this year it was too much. He was still doing Crocodile Hunter material! Only losers like Adam Hills still do that material! So over. The Glass House totally lost its lustre because of heinous hack Wil. Dave Hughes is the only saving grace of that show, but still, that hasn’t proved to be enough. But who cares about The Glass House when CNNNN rules so big time? RULES! SOOOO BIG TIME! In other things that rule, I refer again to Jon Stewart’s show. Completely freakin fabulous, man. My favourite ‘story’ from them this year was Steven Colbert’s report from ‘merry old England’ [actually a NY studio with picture of the Houses of Parliament] about Prince Charles’ alleged ‘something-or-other’. It completely mocked the coy game the press was playing with that story by having Steven deliver his report – “Although I of course know the exact nature and all the intimate details of the allegations being made, I am nonetheless forbidden by England’s strict libel and slander laws from repeating them, being in ‘England’ and all [wink]” – all while suggestively eating a banana. You know, a [wink] banana. It was brilliant satire, especially because it was exhibiting behaviour that differed only slightly from what was coming from the ‘real’ journalists covering the ‘real’ story. Piss funny. Anyway, although it was hilarious, I don’t consider the whole Charles thing to be the HUGEST non-story of the year. That gong goes to the BRITNEY-MADONNA-christina KISS! This is old-hat griping now but, come on! How far gone is Madonna to think that a faux-lesbian kiss is still an outrageous piece of titillation for the masses? Um, okay, obviously not far gone enough. Damn masses. How dare you make me wrong! More egregiously though, how dare you make Madonna right?! Seething still. Harrumph. Now, what else? Ah yes, the war. A completely psychotic episode I think you’ll all agree. Remind me again, why was invading Iraq considered a valid response to, um, what? Not global terrorism, that’s for sure. Wait. Was it global terrorism? I can’t be sure now, but I think I remember some distinctions blurring slightly, which of course was only a matter of oversight and not intentional at all. That would have been irresponsible and misleading, and you know, a president doesn’t just send soldiers into harm’s way on some flimsy pretext. These are serious people doing serious work here. They don’t lie. Anyway, why were we all laughing along at all jokes with punch lines like “but that’s the French for you!”, or “what are you, French?”, or “damn French!”, or “in France!”, or, just to keep it interesting and topical, “Uday and Qusay!” [while naturally omitting “and that 14-year-old kid!”]. Hilarious. Their names are sooo funny! And, by the way people, how did we ever consider the story of that limbs-blown-to-smithereens-and-16-members-of-family-annihilated kid to be ‘heart-warming’? We are totally weird. Tell ya who else is weird. That David Blaine guy. Weird. And Seigfreid & Roy. Weird. Magicians in general are quite strange, really. What is with them? Rosie O’Donnell seems a bit lame. As do most award shows and Mark Holden. Millsy is not attractive, and he can’t sing either. Please do not let him onto TV and describe him as a charming host. I’m talking to you, casting agents. However, casting agents aren’t all bad. Serious snaps must go to the people who found the Queer Eyes. I love you guys. Will you be my friends? The Amazing Race is totally awesome. I don’t know what prompted me to say that, but believe it. Also awesome this year was Alias. I hadn’t watched it before, but got completely hooked. I really liked that Will guy and that whole real Francie/fake Francie emotionally wrenching thing. Also, that dorky gadget guy is cool. At the moment, I’m really thinking Scrubs is a great show. I pissed myself when there was random mention of an Althzeimers patient laying tackles on the doctors, and then this guy topples JD while yelling “Who am I?” Pissed my pants. Also pissed my pants for the last twenty seconds The Spanish Apartment. Seriously, watch it, and see how the final moments completely undo the cred of the whole film by forcing ‘new Europe’ crap and lame-arse witlessness onto an otherwise loose movie. The three of us were spluttering at it, but the rest of the audience, not so much. Ah well, some people are just from another planet. Case in point, at the moment I am reading an hilarious and astute book by Al Franken called Lies and the Lying Liars who Tell Them: A Fair and Balanced Look at the Right. If you like the book’s title, just wait for some of the names of the chapters, like “Ann Coulter: Nutcase”, and “You Know Who I Don’t Like? Ann Coulter” and “Bill O’Reilly: Lying, Splotchy Bully”, and “I Attend the White House Correspondents Dinner and Annoy Karl Rove, Richard Perle, Paul Wolfowitz, and the Entire Fox Team”. It’s really good, but scary too. These people are crazy! CRAZY! And NOT TO BE TRUSTED! Yet they wield influence, both blatant and insidious. Scary. I’m looking forward to reading his Rush Limbaugh is a Big Fat Idiot and Other Observations. Don’t let Moore-fatigue [if you are even experiencing it. I’ve heard it might be happening is all] deter you from this book. Good stuff. Truth to power, baby. Anyway, this thing’s gone on a bit, so I’m just going to try and leave you with some tips about who to praise and who to lambaste if you are planning to cannily insinuate yourself with me by posing as a kindred spirit. Yes, a list will follow. Would I hold out on you? I’m keepin it real fo ma peeps. Peace out.

The E List of LOVE
Listen, you lazy fools. I’ve been workin my butt off all year. Give me a break! Read the frickin archives! Alright, just because I’m generous, I’ll give you this morsel of a clue; television is key.

The E List of LAME
Um, again; television is key.

Even though it is still only December 31st [remember?], I am assuming that tomorrow I’ll be able to say that I had a great New Year’s Eve in great company and, thankfully, woke up without hangover. I am predicting that the whole ‘driving with the guy in the boot of the car’ story is going to get more ‘outrageous’ as the years go by and we become pathetic old people who tend to make random things like these somehow self-aggrandising. Ah, youth. Zany.