Thursday, March 31, 2005


Happy 2nd birthday, Blog. What to say, what to say? Well, we can only make the promise that every obsessed parent makes - we will try our best not to kill you.

Lots of love,
Mummy + That Man She Doesn’t Sleep With.

P.S. Don’t tell your father, but I put an extra little something in the envelope after he signed the card. Treat yourself to something nice, pet. Also, clean your room. And, could you at least rinse the dishes you use if you’re going to leave them by the sink? It’s no fun coming home to dried-up crud, yeah? Also, learn to walk. You’re making me look bad at play group. And fetch mummy her ciggies, will ya? Or else, no more bitty for you... xxx
Went to see Cake tonight. It was good. But it wasn't mighty. And I had expected it to be mighty. Highlights were, Never There, The Distance, Carbon Monoxide, and everyone yelling "DUDE!" in that bit of Short Skirt/Long Jacket that goes, "DUDE!"

Anyway, Cake finished at 11pm. And I went, well, I took the night off work and I'm in the city anyway, why don't I walk down to the Town Hall and see if there are any tickets left for Daniel Kitson's late-night stand-up show, of which tonight is the first? Sounds like a plan. A spontaneous plan. Crazy. So I saw him tonight too. The audience was peppered with other comedians [and I don't mean 'other comedians besides myself', because, I'm not a comedian. No, I mean 'other comedians besides Daniel Kitson' eg., Demetri Martin, Danny Bhoy, some of the CNNNN dudes, I think I saw Chris Addison too...] and I was like, noddin, ya thaaat's right. I know my shit. I'm down with where it's at, etc. Even though, there's always some other comedian in the audience of a show. But no matter, I squeeze whatever reflected glory I can out of any situation. And hey, comedians don't always make late dinner arrangements with each other during a show like they did tonight, so hah, exclusive in-crowd spectacle. Anyway, Daniel wasn't as good as he has been, but hey, I love the man.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

In a turnaround from yesterday's Horrible Person feature, today I bring you,
Not A Horrible Person, so


I interviewed Andrew Bartlett for the show this morning about the same stuff that Amanda was being cunty about, and he did not suck one bit, ever.

Monday, March 28, 2005


From an article in today's Age:
Rowdy protesters who clashed with police outside the Baxter Detention Centre at the weekend were giving false hope to the people inside at best, Immigration Minister Amanda Vanstone said today.
The protesters chanted "free the refugees" when those considered genuine refugees were actually out in the community, she said.
About 400 pro-refugee activists who clashed with police over Easter left their campsite near Baxter in South Australia yesterday after three days of protests…
"I see the people protesting this weekend largely as activists, not idealists," Senator Vanstone told ABC radio.
"They are chanting, for example, `free the refugees', when in fact 9,000 of the people who arrived unauthorised and unannounced are considered refugees and are out in the community.
"The only people in Baxter are people who have broken their visa conditions, normal compliance cases, and some of the remaining boat people who were considered not to be refugees.
"So, to chant `free the refugees' sort of indicates that they're not on the mark there."
Senator Vanstone also said the protests were probably cruel on the people inside the centre.
"It's very disturbing for the people inside Baxter, to have a whole weekend where there's a fuss going on outside," she said.
"The protesters probably think they lift people's spirits. I don't know that that's necessarily the case.
"If it gives them false hope, it's one of the cruellest things you can do."
Senator Vanstone said protests outside her private residence in Adelaide had no effect on her and merely disrupted neighbours.
"It didn't have much impact on me. We were going away for Easter in any event so we decided to go a day earlier than we otherwise might have," she said.
"(It was) terribly inconvenient for my neighbours.
"It's entirely selfish."


Sunday, March 27, 2005

Saw Lawrence Leung and Andrew McClelland's Somewhat Secret Secret Society Show tonight. It was very funny of course, and very them. Anyway, Mel, did you by any chance tell Andrew about the origin of "the third degree"? I'm just curious, because he's used it in a joke... well, in a joke within a joke. See, the joke is that Andrew's punchlines draw on material that's too 'obscure' for people to actually 'get', and so Lawrence is able to gong him when he tells jokes that require obscure knowledge. And then Andrew tells a joke by way of example. And in that joke he uses that stuff you told me about the Freemasons and the third degree initiation, you know, back when I went to meet you at that sea-shanty choir thing that Andrew organised, except I went to the wrong place first and then you had to tell me that we were meeting at a pub called the Town Hall, not at the actual Town Hall. Anyway, because you, Mel, told me about the origin of the saying "the third degree" that day, I was able to 'get' Andrew's 'obscure' joke tonight. So I'm just wondering if you might in fact be the source for both me and him in this instance.
Amy is in Berlin. And she has a new blog! And a new housemate! And a new street map! And a new pillow! And a new lamp! And a new cd of a Berlin band she saw the other night... in Berlin!

Saturday, March 26, 2005

Went to see Chris Addison and Demetri Martin tonight. Chris Addison was good as usual. I think I've enjoyed previous years more, but that doesn't mean this one isn't good also.

I really liked Demetri Martin. And, watching him, you know what I realised? A little bit into the show it clicked that I was actually at a stand-up show comprised of actual one-liners. That's never happened before! And I liked it.

Friday, March 25, 2005

Is this not the most FABULOUS video clip you have ever seen?

Daft Punk, Robot Rock
Look how glinty their helmets are!
And they directed it themselves! Geniuses!
Went to see Maria Bamford tonight. Dudes, she's awesome/gifted/cool! High-larious.
Oh yeah. I forgot to mention the major issues I'm having with this Tony Abbott thing. I mean, not only am I totally conflicted about feeling empathetic for a man so chock full of bad BAD ideas. Because, seriously, I'm so conflicted about that. Do you know that when I heard Kathy Donnelly say that she's never seen Tony Abbott look so old as he did when he told her that he wasn't the kid's father, I actually clutched my chest and squeaked out an "Aw! That poor man!"? What is wrong with me? Gah! But not even that ghastly quandary is winning as my major issue with this thing. No, what I'm more concerned about is the dangerous message this saga might be sending to 'the kids'. I mean, just consider this; 'vatican roulette' [otherwise known as ew-y withdrawal ew ew ew] is in this instance coming across as less chancy than actual contraception. What? WHAT?

Thursday, March 24, 2005

Okay, first Comedy Festival outing tonight. Went to see Will Adamsdale's show, Jackson's Way, which is last year's Edinburgh Perrier Award-winning one. I liked it. His character is this sort of motivational speaker, but he's not overbearing or over-confident or anything. He's just this sweetly enthusiastic oddity who advocates doing pointless tasks, and then raising your fist in the air and going, "Achieved!" Why? Because there's so many more pointless tasks around, so you can achieve a lot more of them. Why focus your energy on being effective at the small amount of tasks that actually have a point [are "pointful"] when there's this vast area of pointless tasks [he has a graph which makes the proportions of this clearer] to play with and make yourself sick over? How exactly this all leads to self-improvement, or improving anything for that matter, is not the point. You're a success! You're doing [what he has termed] "things". Look, you're moving "things" around, from one spot to another spot. Well done you. Now try doing a "compound thing" and P.T.I [Push Through with Intensity]... etc. I'm reading this back and I'm realising I've made the show sound like an annoying exercise in smug 'oh ho, let's parody self-help' mediocrity. But it's much finer than that. It's hardly even about that, really. The show's perversity is more subtle and varied than I'm making it sound. I'd say it has a whimsical spirit but that sounds weak. It's just funny and sweet-natured and random and odd, sometimes surreal, it veers off and it's not really about anything. It's kinda nonsense, really. But like, a nonsense project, or something. Anyway, I can't shake the feeling that the whole thing is really smart. And really really good.

Then I went to see Mike Wilmot, and of course he made me laugh. He treats the preview sessions as 'not the real show', though, so we got a bit of repetition from last time, but that's still good. My friend, who hadn't seen him before, was amazed. Me, I liked the bit about crotch, and smelling crotch, and going, "Is that my crotch?" Comedy gold.

DO #1
AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! It's Comedy Festival time! Daniel Kitson! Mike Wilmot! Demetri Martin! Chris Addison! Rich Hall! Arj Barker! Will Adamsdale! The Incredible Melk!

DO #2
Some CDs I have bought recently, which you WILL enjoy when you buy them too;

The Arcade Fire, Funeral [all of it is excellent, but especilly "Rebellion (Lies)"]

LCD Soundsystem, LCD Soundsystem [all of it is excellent, but especially "Losing My Edge"]

Beck, Guero [all of it is excellent, but especially "Go It Alone" and "Farewell Ride"]

Snap! Crakk!, And The Sea Closed In Over Us [all of it is excellent, but especially "Do The Death Get Dead"]

Queens Of The Stone Age, Lullabies To Paralyze [all of it is excellent, but especially "Burn The Witch" and "You Got A Killer Scene There, Man..."]

The Big Con, starring Max Gillies and Eddie Perfect. Don't go and see it like I did on Tuesday night. It's not good. Especially Max Gillies. And also the script. Eddie Perfect does some rather nice work, especially the bleak and accusatory songs. But, still, the show is generally bad, crap, etc. Not sharp or pointed enough. Not good enough. Also, considering recent developments, the Tony Abbott bit has dated rather fatally.

Sunday, March 20, 2005

I've been neglecting the blog too, but this time I have an excuse, as I'm slowly going insane as I sink back into the study "groove" ("Is that ache a tumour? Maybe I have parasitic worms like in body snatchers? Could I go to the doctor and ask for a worm test, or would I need actual symptoms? Maybe he would think I'm a hypochondriac..."). Welcome back Mr. Eyeball twitch.
Went to the symphony tonight, which was a bit boring until they got to the good bit, Ravel's Bolero. Love that cool tune. The persistent beat, the precisely controlled build-up. It doesn't get old. Then, after the symphony, whizzed straight over to the Northcote Social Club to see..... The Fiery Furnaces! YEAAHH! Geniuses! I love that band so damn much. I'm sure you do too. You certainly own both their albums. And saw them play support for Franz Ferdinand last year. Face it. You're A FAN. Because, how could you not be? They are awesome. Awesome, I tells ya. Exciting. Brilliant. Inventive. Heroes all. Indeed, as I would say in my schoolgirl-with-a-bit-of-uni French, ils sont hypercool. Dunno why I'd say it in French. It's just one of those inexplicable things. Similarly inexplicable; just how ridiculously impressive The Fiery Furnaces are. Ridiculously impressive like a fox! Excellent on a whole nother level. They must rehearse A LOT. Eleanor's retention of nonsense lyrics in the midst of agitated rhythm shake ups is bloody astounding. I would have a serious brain malfunction trying to keep it all together... and look cool! And sing with excellent diction! They SO know their complex shit. And on top of all of that, they have that drummer. Yes, that drummer. The Hottest Bestest Drummer on the planet. Yep, hottest AND the bestest. Truly, just watch the man play and you'll fall in love/think he's the superstar of drumming. You, of course, love him to bits.

Thursday, March 17, 2005

Guy and I have been angsting a little bit about the state of our blog. And by 'a little bit', I mean we mentioned it briefly over coffee last week. And truly, I am beginning to realise that we're not giving very good blog. The general lack of substantial blogging, thoughts, ideas, politics, opinions about celebrities, and all that guff. We used to have guff to say, not just 'hey I went to this gig, and I don't have much to say about it. See ya.' Anyway, this post is not going to turn the situation around. I just decided that I had to post something, and I put all that effort into moving over here and switching the computer on, that now there has to be something to show for it. I have racked my brain for a thought I had this week. And this is the thought:

On The OC on Tuesday night, Modest Mouse were playing in that bar they have now which only serves juice, or something. How very Peach Pit. But anyhoo, I was watching this and deciding that it was a perfectly fine and totally okay thing for Modest Mouse to do. But then my enjoyment of it was soured. You see, the OC characters kept talking during the gig. And then, some even left the juice bar/nightclub to continue talking. During the gig. While Modest Mouse was playing. AS IF! So, my one thought/reaction for the week was; um, what is up with these freaks? Talk later. Not now. There are people on stage and you should be staring at them. And if somebody insists on talking to you, you just go staccato, "Uh-huh, uh-huh..." and give them the silent 'shut up' signal, nodding towards the stage as if to say "Ah, I'm kinda in the middle of something here. QUIT IT."

Ooh, I just remembered another thought I had. Marissa sucks. Height of suckiness; this line, delivered to her dad - "Considering you're the only thing keeping me sane, things should get really fun when you leave!" LAME! The threat, the blame. It was all there, and all completely retarded. I actually said "Jesus girl, take some responsibility for yourself and stop being such a drama princess. Nobody cares!" Also, doesn't she realise that the cool parent is her mother? Her dad is pfff. Another thought. I wish this show would get better rather soon.

Also, I think I forgot to mention this, but here is my tip for the best thing you can do for yourselves at this particular historical moment:


Monday, March 14, 2005

My, what a perfectly raucous night of rock. Young Heart Attack, The D4, and Dallas Crane. Music was played. Things were said. We [Melbourne] apparently rock.

Friday, March 11, 2005

Saw The Black Keys last night. The supports were Cannon, who are rather good, eh. And The Vasco Era, who are fantastic! Amazing! Etc... ETC! I kept contemplating how they could take the world by storm, and so forth. Love em. That guy's voice is freakin great. And the bassist had a low scoop necked black top, which worked rather well with his grey suit jacket. Excellent. Choosing to cover Neil Young's The Needle And The Damage Done struck me as a bit weird, though. But I choose to believe they did it in the spirit of "I sing the song because I love the man" rather than any 'drug deepness', eg. "This song means so much to me" [bites fist in anguish]. Anyway, I loved it that Television's Marquee Moon got played in the break between acts. That's good choosin, Corner Hotel audio person. And then The Black Keys. I love that they chose a smaller gig venue this time. I love that the drummer looks like such a geek, and that he bashes away at the cymbals with a tambourine. I love the phenomenal sound the lead guy gets out of one guitar. The Black Keys are just great. Highlights were Grown So Ugly, Stack Shot Billy, Act Nice & Gentle, Everywhere I Go of course, and whatever the song was that they played for the final encore. That ruled.

Monday, March 07, 2005

What a find!!! On my visit to Sydney, on the night of Mardi Gras, but for my brother's Mardi Gras spoiling heterosexual engagement party, I found THIS little gem in the paper. Melissa Tkautz (E Street, Read My Lips, "hands off my detonator" etc) advertising Premature Ejaculation! Well, actually, advertising a product to solve the said sexual malfunction. Just in case you can't read the text, she is quoted as saying "If it's over before it begins... Call AMI (Advanced Medical Institute) now". Could this be the lowest in celebrity endorsements? Amazing! I dare Fop to devote a month to Melissa!
Posted by Hello

Sunday, March 06, 2005

I would like to take this opportunity to thank those Rage guest-programming geniuses, Scissor Sisters, for tonight playing the clip of Wham Rap by Wham [in which the Wham boys look like this].

I'm bursting to go all BEST THING EVER on you, but I will refrain because I do tend to do that quite a bit. But still, it is SUCH a great thing. Oh, I'm so glad I've been exposed to it. See, the extent of my Wham knowledge pretty much amounts to doing a jazz ballet routine to Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go in the Alphington Scout Hall when I was a young sprightly-ish lass. Had I known then that something as glorious as Wham Rap [and its accompanying video clip] was part of their ouvre, I might have become as spontaneously obsessed with them as I am right now. I mean, George Michael is rapping while acting very GAY. Love it!

Oddly, I do feel the need to gay it up just a little bit right now, to compensate for Guy's total lack of gaying it up. See, he's in Sydney this weekend taking part in completely and exclusively heterosexual activities. I'm not joking. He's at the wedding of his extremely heterosexual brother. Maybe this would mean more to you if you knew just how heterosexual Guy's brother is. But seriously, getting married on Mardi Gras weekend? How heterosexual is that? EXTREME!

P.S. Guy, you may now play George Michael* in your car when I'm in it. He's BRILLIANT!
*Wham years only.

Oooh, gotta go. They're about to play Babooshka by Kate Bush. Now, that is the BEST CLIP EVER. Scissor Sisters rule!

Saturday, March 05, 2005

Oh, what, this? You mean you weren't there? Well, you missed seeing Mel and others (including an hilariously precocious girl child) strut their foxy stuff before an adoring crowd. I do hope you are all planning to go see Mel's show during the Comedy Festival, though, otherwise your scenester cred might kick it altogether. Anyway, if you happen to be near a radio tomorrow between 2pm and 3pm, you might want to tune in to 3CR where I'll be interviewing Mel about her art, etc, while I pretend to have a general handle on 'women's arts' as I fill in as presenter for 3CR's women's arts show, "Girly Is Good". Yes, I will be mostly playing music, thank god.
Did anyone else catch Writer Of O last night on SBS? It was pretty cool, for two main reasons; 1) I love that book, and 2) old French people are full of seriously good shit. Such precise minds. How do they do it? Anyway, that Friday 10pm slot on SBS seems to be turning into some kind of 'let's explore feminism' hour, set aside for Lady Documentaries, what with O this week and Slut last week, and something about the social and cultural role played by Parisien brothels next week, etc. Do let's support it.

Thursday, March 03, 2005

What THE HELL was that? Did anybody watch My Restaurant Rules tonight? It was SHOCKING! The Brisbane restaurant, I can barely say it. They... they invited Pauline Hanson to their launch! And, again, things like standing as far away from her as possible, or awkwardly refusing to shake her hand... these things were just not happening. I mean, just inviting her in the first place. Inexcusable. But greeting her warmly with... with [prepare yourselves, this is the truly horrifying, mind-fuckingly shocking bit], "We're so honoured you came." Gape. THERE. ARE. NO. WORDS.

Well, there were some words, eg. my brother and I gawking at each other and repeating in unison, "WE'RE SO HONOURED YOU CAME??!!" And then silence. Mind-screaming. You know how sometimes your mind reels and seems to fill with noise, of the 'how is this happening', 'I can't believe this is happening' 'WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?' 'THE WORLD MAKES NO SENSE!' 'EVERYTHING IS FUCKED!' variety, and you reach this limit where the noise and pressure in your brain just has to explode out of you, in often irrational and completely unplanned ways, eg, screaming, and/or throwing a sun-chair into the pool? When I saw that thirty-ish apparently 'arty' Louvre restaurant woman either pretend to or be genuinely honoured that Pauline was there, and not even CARE that people could see her being nice to Pauline, shaking her hand, smiling at her, doing all the things that in civil society are just not done, I wigged out. Again. This bloody Pauline revival* is doing my head in. Anyway, tonight, when I exploded, I surprised myself. My brain broke and I think I maybe coined a term. Somehow, my crazy confoundedness ended with me randomly grabbing parts of slurs and coming out with "YOU DICK BAG". Hmmm. Just consider that a moment. And now go, "Dick bag?... Whoah!" I was laughing my arse off, because, truly, that is damn offensive. I mean, dick bag. To call a woman that. So offensive. Yikes. Oh, random word splicing. You crack me up. I might be cracking up anyway [and by 'cracking up' I mean 'losing my mind/ going loco' etc, Just in case you didn't register my subtle shift in meaning. Well done if you did, though. All this explanation bit in parentheses is redundant for you. Oh god, what is going on with me. Do you know that I missed the OC last week and I didn't even die about it? I'm totally not myself...] So, yeah. Maybe I would think twice before calling a woman a 'dick bag' again, but this first time was funny because, well, it was mindless and random and, I'd like to think, inventive. Anyway, I'm going to make a threat right now; if you tolerate Pauline Hanson, or feel capable of being pleasant to her, I might call you a dick bag. For serious. Because, WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU EVER DO THAT? WHO ARE YOU? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?

Meanwhile, WHAT? Dudes, I swear Charlie Sheen was on Letterman, like, two nights ago saying how happy he is and how Denise is expecting their second child, etc etc. And now, divorce? Rather sudden. Bizarre... Or, not so much. Something totally unforgiveable has totally gone down. And Charlie did it.

* By the way, Fop, I am unable to comment on Nikki Webster because, having put an embargo on Dancing With The Stars after last year, when I blamed it for somehow, and I don't yet quite know how, making it okay to like Pauline Hanson [even though IT'S NOT], I'm not really up on the latest Nikki stuff, haven't seen her dance, etc. I do, however, get irked, and sometimes even incensed, when people use her as a punchline. Cheap shots, people being wankers, etc, these are the things that tend to get me onside with popettes - hence my recent decision to think Britney is super tops, despite having thought she was crap through all her successful years [which she was], and my stance on Ashlee Simpson [ie, she's rather good], and my long-running preference for Dannii over Kylie [although, that Arts Centre exhibition is bloody good. Have you seen it? It forced me to mutter, under my breath, "Respect". Guy was shocked. He said, "Did you just say 'Respect'?"]. Indeed, I never met an out-of-favour popette I didn't like, except Delta. She's a special case. No matter what the prevailing opinion of her is, I always manage to find her irredeemably crap. It's the 'no fun' factor. Anyway, so yes, I could quite easily be a pro-Nikki person. She has all the requisite 'people dumping on her' cache that I'm a sucker for. But, I'm still torn. Because, what I remember of her hair is that she was very into that 'twisty fun hair butterfly clips' thing. So it might take me a while to get over a strong residual feeling about her crapness.
This post is so my baby brother will stop bugging me. The idiot bought a ticket to the Black Keys gig next Friday (March 11th), but then decided he didn't want to be on his lonesome, so he got one for the Thursday night when I'm going. And then he went, hey that Friday ticket is non-refundable. And I went, "Uh, der. It says so right there." And he started crying and moaning and going, "The mean lady at the Corner won't let me return it. Will you call her for me and make her take it back? Pleease..." No, shut up. Leave me alone. Do it yourself. You're 17 years old for christ's sake. Be a man-boy. Jeez! Anyway, he's been bugging me, so if there are any Black Keys fans out there who are breaking down into uncontrollable sobbing because the Friday gig is sold out and they will die if they miss it, fear not. I have ONE TICKET. To a sold-out show. Oooh-er, exclusive. So, if anyone wants it, let me know, and I will give it to you. For retail price. Yes, when I say, 'give', I mean 'forty bucks, please'.

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

OMG Fop has gone all Nikki Webster on us! Yay. About time too, as the mystery that is Nikki NEEDS to be unravelled. Like, surely she's about 24 by now? The only reason (some) people thought that she was at all talented was because they thought she was way younger than she is, because, let's face it, she is kinda stunted in the growing up stakes. Is it true that she's now singing in the Warner Bros Movie World cafeteria? Oh, no. She's on Dancing With the Stars!