Sunday, March 26, 2006


(but mostly TV shows)

And I’ve got it pretty bad. See, the only reason I’m actually blogging tonight is that I appear to have watched every single Gilmore Girls episode yet screened in the US, ditto with The OC [“don’t call it that”]. And while I do still have some L Word Season 3 episodes in reserve, I was so devastated by the one I watched on Friday night that I kinda need some space to grieve. Truly, I had to strangle silent sobs so as not to wake the family, it was so sad. Anyway, basically, I’ve been a glutton and now I’ve run out of distractions.


I’ve been watching some films that will be appearing in the French Film Festival, and I ighly recommend Little Jerusalem. Also, Lemming is alright, mostly because of Charlotte Gainsbourg’s clothes. Just superb clothes. How Much Do You Love Me is quite dreadful, even with Monica Bellucci in it. You think it's going to be good, but then it just disintegrates into crap. A big load of.

As previously mentioned, I’ve watched a lot of upcoming episodes of The OC, and I will tell you three things:
1. Marissa and Ryan’s love KILLS. PEOPLE. Somewhat.
2. There is a lovely meta-joke involving The Valley, but I am about to ruin it for you so, WARNING! WARNING! Okay, this is what happens: you hear a character on The Valley, which is being watched on a TV by characters on The OC, say “Hey, will I see you at Death Cab tonight?” And then an OC character, hearing this from the TV, says, “Death Cab are on The Valley? Never listening to them again.” DO YOU SEE? Hilarity! [I have actually never listened to Death Cab.]
3. In conclusion, and as Gob Bluth would say, “WOW. He [Ryan] certainly has a type.”

I’ve watched the second season of The Mighty Boosh. Vince is a goth now, and quite the hot property with the fellas. This second series is actually more adventurous. Quite insane, really. But it is in no way an undisciplined wank. NO, IT IS NOT. The best episode, in my opinion, is the one where they need inspiration for a “new sound” to present at a record label meeting in a few hours. Eight cocks figure into it.

I’ve finally watched Crumb. It’s very good, isn’t it. But I really wish he wouldn’t touch women. The way he strokes their shoulders makes me shudder in a way only Woody Allen can. Or so I thought.

I’ve purchased the Arrested Development Season 2 DVD, because it is available to be purchased in that way. So now I am legally able to enjoy it.

I’ve also purchased the I Am Not An Animal DVD, because I got a really bad craving for it, blah blah, had to have it right away, as is my increasingly impatient acquisitive nature with such things, etc. However, putting the title into LimeWire only got me bestiality porn, so it became easier to buy it. Also, it’s a worthy buy. A knob of butter, INDEED. [Mark Andrews rules.]

Last night I saw Damn Arms and Temper Temper at the Northcote Social Club. Temper Temper were a cross between this band and that band, but let’s not say these things about them, because I found them highly pleasing anyway. They had great hair, wore tight jeans, and did it better than so many others. Maybe a little derivative, but definitely not crap. Moving on, Damn Arms may not have enjoyed playing this gig as much as I enjoyed seeing it, but my experience is the one in question here. And I still love them, so there. Kanye West’s album was played in the interval, and I liked the way Damn Arms themed their onstage talk accordingly, for instance, “This next song is about bitches and money”, even, and here’s the kicker, when it wasn’t. I also liked it when they finished playing The Cormorant and said, “That song is TOO FUCKING LONG”, and when they said, “This is our last song, THANK FUCK.”

I hope you all watched/taped Antony’s appearance guest-programming Rage last night. Didn’t I tell you he was a warmly funny man? I’m not saying you doubted me, I’m just pushily making a hollow prior claim. Anyway, wasn’t it lovely? And wasn’t it extra-lovely that our ABC realised that this IS the kind of thing they SHOULD be advertising. People WANT TO KNOW who is guest-programming Rage. It didn’t hurt that you told us, did it, ABC? And perhaps you could even do it every week? (Once this is accomplished, we may even dare to mention the next item on the agenda, that is, “Why not let’s have the artist and song title at the end as well as the beginning of the song, eh?” So that we are not forced to go, “Oi, this is bloody lovely. What is it? Blast, I missed the beginning. Now I’ll have to wait for the name of the next song and then back-track it on the Rage website…” etc etc. Don’t tell me you DON’T do that. Anyways, I know it would be a break with tradition, and one of the things I love about Rage - along with its lack of slap-worthy host and associated competitions, its lovely lengthy-ness, its unfailing all-inclusiveness, which you curse when you seem to come home only to the death metal portion of the night, but it’s OKAY, because what would the death metal lovers do without it? And what would I do without it, were I a death metal lover myself? DIE, probably… Okay, where was I before this digression? Oh yes, here: “I know it would be a break with tradition, and one of the things I love about Rage…” IS THAT IT DOESN’T CHANGE. I love that it seems to have had the same opening and ending credit sequences, the same font in white on the bottom-left corner, since forever. And I really respect this resistance to change or ‘jazz things up’. It’s great. You’re great. Truly, Rage, NEVER CHANGE… EXCEPT for this one teeny tiny thing. I’m not corrupting your vision or anything, I just want to know the name of the song, EVEN if I haven’t been watching it from the start. I know, I’m a horrible person. I feel guilty even asking it of you, but really, even the ABC News is giving updates in the middle of the broadcast to catch people up. OKAY I’M SORRY, that was a terrible example and I am a terrible person. Stay gold, Rage. Keep yourself decent. Don’t go changing for nobody. I love you just the way you are.

I was talking about Antony, wasn’t I? Yes, well, I taped it. And then watched it today with my severely hungover brother. And it was magnificent, especially as my brother kept saying, “Oh my god, what IS this? This is WICK” [an annoying contraction of “wicked” he has been using of late, and which I hate. I don’t even like “wicked”]. My point is, I was frequently able to say things like, “Well Simon, that’s Jimmy Somerville. He’s an important gay man.” And Simon would be like, “How do you know that? Where are you getting this Jimmy Somerville crap from? The band is called Bronski Beat.” And then I would say, “Feel like a glass of water, you poor sick baby?” so as to dodge the question and not have to admit the very shallow basis for this scrappy knowledge, namely, a cover article in Bnews or the Melbourne Star or something from which I recognised Jimmy Somerville’s face, the discussion of which would inevitably lead to admitting to my little brother that this was also my first time hearing anything by Jimmy Somerville, unravelling the whole “me and Antony are like this” (cross fingers to indicate how entwined and complementary and close our tastes, etc, are) thing. Anyways, it was Simon’s first time seeing that amazing Laurie Anderson O Superman clip, so thanks for that. And for introducing both of us to Nina Hagen. She screeched “I love you”, and I decided she was probably Eastern European, but I haven’t checked up on that.


Six Feet Under returns tomorrow night for its final season, Channel 9, 10:35pm. Lock it in.


Rash, that documentary about street artists in Melbourne, which is going to be on the ABC some time in April. Do watch it.

Abortion, Corruption & Cops, that documentary about Bertram Wainer, the crusading doctor from that excellent Good Weekend article on illegal abortions. SBS, April 6.


If I had some kind of power over you, I would tell you to spend next weekend like so:

On Friday night, you should go to the Evelyn. Ninetynine is playing, AND, if what I heard on RRR last night is true, you will get a free Unstable Ape Records sampler. And you definitely want one of those. The last one I got had great stuff on it, the greatest of which was Zulya & the Children of the Underground’s No(t) Home. This time around, it’s looking like Yellow Lights by Marissa Nadler will be the thing. I probably won’t be able to get out of work to go on Friday myself, but I’m sending my brother. I want that free CD. Badly. You should get it too. And you should watch Ninetynine. Randomly, I actually know someone in that band now, although I have kept how much I adore them a secret from him. Really wouldn’t do.

On Saturday night, you should go to the Tote for the launch of the DIY Arts Show CD Showcase. It’ll be experimental music by local bands. What could be more fun than that? Some of you will most definitely be attending with me. I have made promises of that kind.

On Sunday afternoon, you should attend the Workers and Communities Solidarity Picnic at the Yarraville Gardens from 1pm. You know why.

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