I’ve got CONSUMPTION [CULTURAL]

(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.


So now, a LIST OF THINGS I’VE…

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.


REMINDER:

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


AND KEEP A LOOK OUT FOR:

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.


AND FINALLY, HERE’S ME, DICTATING YOUR OPTIONS:

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.

Commonwealth Games Opening Ceremony

9:03pm
Er, what are you trying to say here? That koalas in footy shorts aren't the best option, aren't really all that capable even, for the job of rescuing insipid child actors? HOW DARE YOU! We wouldn't put them in charge of rescue if they weren't up to it! WHAT AN OUTRAGEOUS IMPUTATION!

9:14pm
Yes, ballerinas and motorcross riders do share a sexual tension as deep as the gender divide. Yes.

9:17pm
Bloody hell, the teams are entering already? Well, that's it. I'm done.

Oh Jens Lekman, what a doll you are.

Honestly. So sweet and lovely. Also, am very much liking how Architecture In Helsinki members keep forming, at least in part, the touring bands of visiting dignitaries.

Some excellent things holding my attention in the last while:

Liars, Drum’s Not Dead

Neko Case, Fox Confessor Brings The Flood

Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Gold Lion (EP)

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

Cat Power, The Greatest

D.N.A on No New York

The Magnetic Fields, 69 Love Songs and i

Minimum Chips, kitchen tea thankyou

PJ Harvey & John Parish, Dance Hall At Louse Point

Sufjan Stevens, Come On Feel The Illinoise!

Deerhoof, The Runners Four

The Strokes, First Impressions Of Earth

Yep. Anyways, I’m off to see Jens Lekman tonight at the Northcote Social Club. I really hope he plays Pretty Shoes.

We are honoured and shamed, both.

You see, we have worried the Fop with our shoddy blogging. He has sent us an “Are you okay? Are you alive? Don’t you just love Girls Aloud?” email. Admittedly, we received this email almost two weeks ago, which further adds to our shoddiness, but the shame and the honour, you see, were quite powerful and took a great deal of time to work through. The answers, by the way, are “Yes. Yes. And YES!” Also, I must address this “we” business, officially. You may have noticed the lack of Guy in this purportedly plural blog. It is because he has left us. I mean, me. He has moved out, as it were, to another place. Yes, I know, he did this a while ago. But he had done it before, you see, and had come back to me. So I assumed this more recent attempt at autonomy wasn’t permanent. I ignored all the signs. For example, the telephone call querying whether he should really be listed as a Symposiast, all things considered… To which I replied, “What do you mean? Of course you should! It’s not plural without you. It’s our blog.” To which he replied “[silence]”. Or the numerous conversations since then, over a series of months [I am quite thick], in which I referred to it as “our blog”, and he immediately countered, “No Elanor. Your blog.” It only took about fifty goes before I got the message. And now I have. It’s not a disaster. He’s only a bounder in the blog sense, because in the real world sense, nothing has changed. It’s true, we haven’t spoken for a week, but only because he is in America being a literati at the moment. And I know this because a) he told me, when we, eg. spoke, as we do quite frequently, b) he asked me to read his conference paper and give highly valuable and insightful feedback, so he sayed, and c) he messaged me a farewell as he was going to the airport, or quite possibly even as he was boarding the plane! This is how perfectly fine and cosy we are. So please don’t freak out. This is not a bust up. He just doesn’t want to share blog space with me anymore… for some reason. I have no idea what I’m going to do about the “it’s plural because there’s two of us” thing. My lawyer is looking into it. HA!

Everyone all right? Okay. Now, I’m going to do one of those ENORMOUS catch-up posts detailing every thing I have been up to. Don’t groan. You can handle it. Yes, I know this is becoming a habit of mine. And I’m actually quite concerned at how befitting it is to my actual personhood. You see, I’m sure it has been said of me many times, “She’s not consistent, but she is large.” Deal.


Tuesday 14 February

I’m going to start here, because, aside from a mini diversion into celebrating the passage of a bill on Thursday 16 February, Valentine’s Day is where we left off.

In the morning, on the Breakfast Show, these are the slightly off kilter ‘songs of love and devotion’ I played, to get into the Valentine’s spirit:

I Don’t Believe You, The Magnetic Fields
[Why? A perfect start to the morning, I believe, as it begins with the lyric: “So you quote love unquote me…” How darling!]

Girlfriend In A Coma, The Smiths
[Why? Obvious.]

Nothing Better, The Postal Service
[Why? This: “I feel I must interject here / You’re getting carried away feeling sorry for yourself / with these revisions / and gaps in history / So let me help you remember / I’ve made charts and graphs that should finally make it clear / I’ve prepared a lecture / on why I have to leave…”]

Single Again, The Fiery Furnaces
[Why? This: “He beat me he banged me / was sure he would hang me / and I wish I was single again…”]

My Imaginary Guy, Deanie Parker & The Valadors
[Why? Well, it’s fabulous, old and about the qualities of an imaginary boyfriend. And this: “When I find a man who will treat me right / I’m gonna mess up his mind and, ah, make him mine…”]

These Boots Are Made For Walking, Nancy Sinatra
[Why? Obvious.]

Where Does The Good Go, Tegan & Sara
[Why? They were in town. I like them. Be quiet.]

By Your Side, CocoRosie
[Why? It’s ironic. The WHOLE THING. Devoted housewifey wearing your black eye and baking you apple pie! HA! THAT is how you write a song of devotion! Take that Destiny’s Child…… Sorry sorry. I didn’t mean it! Please, I love you! I was just very disappointed with Cater 2 U…VERY.]

Not sure how smoothly these tunes segued with interviews about whale slaughter, West Papuan refugees and an RU486 rally, but hey, it was Valentine’s Day.

Can’t remember what I did for the rest of the day. Oh yes. I was still working at my 3CR summer job. Gosh, this was a long time ago! Anyway, in the evening, went to see Jarhead with Guy, Leah, Camille and my little brother. It was very romantic! Mmmm, spending Valentine’s with Sarsgaard. Not sick at all to characterise it like that. No, not sick at all. The film was good, I think. Yes, it was. I was to-ing and fro-ing about it a bit. I remember being mightily pissed off at the lame attempt at ‘deepness’ at the end, but my rage was quickly overtaken by a need to bob my head to Jesus Walks. What struck me most about the film was the way it showed how army people watch war movies very differently to, well, normal people. For instance, I had never even considered it possible that people would be whooping and cheering through Apocalypse Now. I mean, WHAT?! It was disturbing. And it also raised the interesting spectre that it’s quite possible that Jarhead itself may one day be co-opted in this fashion. Creepy.


Wednesday 15 February

Went to see Tegan & Sara at the Corner Hotel. Things of note were:

1. They were their own roadies, albeit in the cunning disguise of eye masks and red capes. Doing your own roady work seems to be ‘a thing’, which I will get to much later.

2. Tegan was wearing a Gogol Bordello t-shirt. That is a good thing.

3. They were just as tetchy about a loser fan as everybody else was.

4. Sara is my favourite.

5. Right before they sang Where Does The Good Go [which, if you’ll remember, I played to fit my alterna-Valentine’s Day music theme the day before], they said “This song is for any of you who had a sucky Valentine’s Day / don’t dig Valentine’s Day”, or something to that effect. I found this odd, because they could have said it about any number of their songs, and yet, they said it about exactly the same song as I chose to convey the same deal. Weird. My ideas are common. [Not so weird.]

6. There was a support act from Sydney called Sparkadia, which I realised I would very much like to play very loud while hugging myself, but only in secret. You never read this.


Thursday 16 February

At 3CR, chatted to Nicole who is on the Promotions Collective with me, [yes, we are a collective devoted to promotions. It is very cutting edge], and who does the DIY Arts Show. I was telling her how I’d seen Deerhoof the Friday before and how they were amazing, and how I had enjoyed Tegan & Sara the night before. Nicole is Canadian. And do you know what she said, quite as if it was nothing at all? “Oh yeah? That’s great. I used to do gigs in Toronto with Tegan & Sara back when they were Sara & Tegan. They had a deal you see. They agreed to switch the names after a few years. Oh, and I did a really fun tour with Deerhoof in San Francisco one time. Yep.” LIKE IT WAS NOTHING AT ALL.

Also, as I’ve mentioned, the RU486 bill passed in the House of Reps.


Friday 17 February

Edward from work burnt me The OC, season 3 episodes 1-11. I was wary, because at that point there’d been about 3 episodes on TV and they had SERIOUSLY sucked. But I hope you have stayed true despite that, because from the ‘Marissa enters public school’ episode onwards, it’s fucking BACK. Which is a relief. Keep an eye out for charming nods to 90210's "Let Donna Martin Graduate" campaign [I say 'charming nods', but they're not subtle. Unless Summer wearing a t-shirt that says "Donna Martin" is subtle]. There are also some slight political traces in jokes about 'quagmires' and such. Also, keep an eye out for articles about Love Of Diagrams, because their song No Way Out features on one of the episodes. Do not turn against them. Sure, they’ll get the treatment. But they are actually good. I really dig them, and have played that song many times on community radio that NO-ONE listens to. So they are still okay. OKAY?


Saturday 18 February

Went to the UN Youth Association’s forum on “Gender, Equality and Empowerment” to record Lyn Allison and Hana Assafiri for Women on the Line.


Monday 20 February

Got the all clear for uni, then met up randomly with Jedda at a pedestrian crossing, then went with Guy and Leah for coffee and then went with Leah to see Syriana. It’s good. It won’t blow your mind to a great extent, but it’s well-made and good. There. I am an awesome reviewer.

The rest of the week is pretty much lost to the haze of assembling Women on the Line.


Friday 24 February

Edward from work burnt me Prison Break, season one. DUDES, I LOVE IT. Here are two things you NEED TO KNOW, and which I can’t possibly stop myself from blurting:

1. OH MY GOD. HOLLY VALANCE! Holly Valance has a role in this show. This is EXCELLENT. So keep watching it. WE MUST SUPPORT HER.

2. The show is good TV for a bunch of reasons, but who cares about those. Let’s just talk about my FAVOURITE MOMENT from the entire series. It happens like so:

Michael Scofield is asking this wigga to do him a favour. And, to indicate his answer in the affirmative, [translation: “Yes.”], the wigga responds thusly:

“Does my momma got big breastesses?”

Holy crap, it was brilliant. I’m sorry if I’ve ruined this amazing moment for you by telling you of it in advance, but I just couldn’t stand it. I NEED to be substituting “Does my momma got big breastesses” for “Yes” RIGHT AWAY, and I can’t have people looking at me like I’m crazy. I need it to be ‘a thing’ that ‘makes sense’.


Saturday 25 February

Went to Guy’s going away party. He’s away for two weeks only. However, one would only snigger at and mutter about ‘the ego’ of throwing yourself a party for a mere two-week absence IF the party was bad. But the party was very good, and therefore, perfectly reasonable. During the party, I had two ‘agree to disagree’ conversations. The first involved climate change. Someone, who shall remain nameless for his own protection [Shayne], thinks it is bosh. That is just not so, sir. I conferred with my sister the meteorologist about it, and she says it is very real, and backed up the arguments I had made, and said that only cranks think it’s not real, and only SUPER-cranks think it’s a big conspiracy cooked up by ‘the environment industry’. Let’s hope you recover your senses. The second ‘agree to disagree’ was about Madonna. I said, “I hate Madonna.” And I got looks. And Simon said, tightly, “We will just have to agree to disagree on that.” And Catherine narrowed her eyes at me, and said, “But surely not Hung Up, of course?” And I said, “No of course not. I LOVE Hung Up. I just mean in general.” And then Like A Prayer came on. And they looked at me again. And I said, “Well, obviously not Like A Prayer either. I LOVE Like A Prayer. I just mean in general.” And then Express Yourself was playing, and I got looks again, and I said, “Well, obviously not Express Yourself either. I LOVE Express Yourself. I just mean in general.” And then Vogue came on, and I got looks. And I said, “Well, of course not Vogue. I LOVE Vogue. I just mean in general.” And I began to think that maybe I do love Madonna after all. Let’s hope I recover my senses. There was also an ‘agree to agree, and to agree with gusto’ conversation about taking Sophie Panopoulos DOWN!


Sunday 26 February

My sister arrived for a visit from Darwin, and we were invaded by family, and some friends of the parentals. The girl is engaged, you see. Let’s not go into it. There is family stress.


Monday 27 February

Met up with sister and distressed aunt for bout of shopping. In the evening, went to see Les Savy Fav, The Hold Steady, and Thunderbirds Are Now at the Corner Hotel. It was magnificent. And all the bands were their own roadies here as well. You see how it is ‘a thing’? For some reason I thought Thunderbirds Are Now had a girl in it, but it doesn’t. The guy on the contraption was a great spaz, though. I was most seriously impressed by The Hold Steady. Amazing. From the moment the singer worked up to yelling “We’re gonna start off with a POSITIVE JAM”, I was theirs. There was also some indecipherable and energetically gesticulated off-mic yelling throughout their set, which could have been crowd exhortation or abuse, or simply the lyrics, but who fucking cares? It was all GREAT. Really really GREAT. There was a guitarist who looked like Stephen Merchant, and the singer reminded me of, you know, Philbert the turtle who lives next door to Rocko the kangaroo in Rocko’s Modern Life? He reminded me of him, with his hunched shoulders and geek glasses, except he was not at all repressed like Philbert, and he had this awesome wicked grin. The man is cool. No need to really tell you how cool Les Savy Fav are. But they are. Very. What a great thing this gig was.


Tuesday 28 February

Had classes at uni, blah blah blah. Not important, BECAUSE, in the evening, went to see Broken Social Scene at the Corner Hotel. And it was fucking sublime. I’d been talking to Dave in the lead-up about not really knowing whether I loved these guys, but still being quite certain that seeing them live would be something special. And it so was. And now I listen to the albums again and enjoy them way way more than I used to. I also fell in love with the dude of course. He was Sarsgaard-esque, and warm and nice and lovely and talented. His voice sounded amazing, he talked about having food-poisoning. You know, swoon. Everything was great, but the stand-outs for me were Anthem For A Seventeen Year Old Girl, Bandwitch, Major Label Debut, 7/4 Shoreline, Handjobs For The Holidays with the “huh huh” breathing, Cause=Time, Lover’s Spit, and the one where New Buffalo sang, which I think was Hotel. Also, am I remembering this correctly - did the dude who used to be in Pavement play on the song named Ibi Dreams Of Pavement [A Better Day]? I think he did. Pavement, guesting on Pavement. I like that.


Wednesday 1 March

Went to the Civil Rights Defence forum, “War on terror or reign of terror?” at the Kaleide Theatre to record Julian Burnside, Rob Stary, Terry Hicks, and, via video link, Moazzem Begg. It was fucking great. My recording was a little rough but I’ve been playing it on the Breakfast Show anyway, with Jack Thomas’s gorgeous little girls making child noises beside me and all. A seriously excellent night.

Anyway, got home from the forum and happened to check the TV guide. OH. MY. GOD. THE L WORD SEASON TWO WAS ABOUT TO APPEAR ON ACTUAL TV! Yes, I’ve seen it, but that didn’t stop me from squealing and jumping and rushing to message anyone who might be interested that IT WAS HAPPENING!

Anyway, I tried to find the Cuntiest Photo Ever, that is, John Howard at that podium which said “Strong Direction, Mainstream Values”, but I couldn’t. So just picture that here. And weep. And rage.


Thursday 2 March

Had lunch with mother, sister and brother at the Flower Drum. It was my first time, and maybe I chose badly, because it sucked. The hot and sour soup was like sludge and I had to add so much chili to it, and then my Szechuan Scallops were pretty whatever. Mum had squid with salt and pepper, and that was pretty damn good. But on the whole, disappointed. There were all these business guys having long lunches, and we took to trying to figure out what sinister dealings and plots they were involved in, right under our very noses!

Anyway, had to man a stall at a pre-International Women’s Day event at the Melbourne Town Hall that afternoon. Then I recorded the speakers, who were pretty fucking twat and pointless. The only good one was a young woman from the Karen Women’s Organisation talking about her life and work in the refugee camps along the Thai-Burma border. Other than that, there was a woman who had walked from the edge of Antarctica to the South Pole, but she was more of a tourist than an adventurer, and we were treated to her holiday snaps, and then Catharine Lumby spoke about absolutely nothing, and then Evonne Goolagong Cawley boringly and exhaustively went over her whole career. I have no idea what the point of these speakers was. They were so boring and toothless. Anyway, foul mood descended.


Saturday 4 March

Went to see The Drones and My Disco at the Spanish Club. My Disco were awesome, of course. But like, really really. I was afflicted with a massive headache just before the Drones came on, so that wasn’t good, and I didn’t enjoy it properly. Rather, I sometimes found myself begging them to stop, please, stop. I like the way he throws himself around though. I swear he wasn’t that expressive when I saw them that time at the Forum when they were supporting the Black Keys.


Sunday 5 March

Watched Brazil.


Monday 6 March

Damn, I just realised I have to write my Oscars bit now. Boo. I really thought we were almost done here. Right, if you don’t want the expanded version, this is it in brief:

I was really very happy with the nominees this year but at the same time really really don’t think Crash was the thing - Michelle Williams is now totally my favourite person - ooh yay, there was a Sarsgaard-Gyllenhaal in the audience shot - er, no disrespect to a great girl but, does Dolly Parton look ‘old-lady-anorexic’ to anyone else? – Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin are super gals – I believe it’s time to say goodbye, Queen Latifah - Reese Witherspoon’s speech was overcooked – and I of course love Jon Stewart.

Now to expand, slightly. Jon Stewart, that man is a class above. Because, you see, he actually made a good joke out of Brokeback Mountain. Only the second one ever [the first being Brokeback to the Future, of course. What a display of knowledge! What an eye for detail! What a faultless application of slow-mo!]. See, I’m really quite sick of lame-arse duds simply adding “brokeback mountain” to the end of a sentence and thinking that constitutes a punchline, making what preceded it a joke. This is just not the case. Firstly, Brokeback Mountain isn’t all that funny. Secondly, you’re a dick. But anyway, Stewart’s cowboy movie montage thing was BRILLIANT. And my happiest moment of the night was when the Brokeback score won. About Crash, yeah, it had good moments, like that brutal one with Tony Danza where an astoundingly oppressive set of humiliating power relations were played out simply with the words “Do we have a problem?”, or that violation bit with Thandie Newton, or that ‘oh no, the little girl is dead, and just look at the expression on her father’s face’ bit, but Shayne’s right, the film felt a bit emotionally cheap and wasn’t perfection. And it was up against films that were, so they should have won [I haven’t seen Capote or Munich yet]. That is all.


Wednesday 8 March

Happy International Women’s Day.

Wow.

Federal parliament has managed to do something blindingly obviously correct. Which is nice.

We really must catch up sometime...

No excuses, but I have been in deep Gilmore Girls Season 5 (fantastic!) ingesting mode. Last month I was in deep L Word Season 2 (brilliant! amazing!) ingesting mode and still managed to blog a bit, hence the ‘no excuses’. But I have a few hours now while the first episodes of GG Season 6 are downloading, so I might as well blog something before heading back into it.

When last we ‘spoke’ it was the middle of the day on Wednesday 1 February. So let us begin approximately there.

The Night Of Wednesday 1 February (or, The Night Of Elanor’s Do-Over Triumph)

We need some backstory for this little tale. See, about a year ago, I was on the St Kilda Beach tram heading to a gig on Fitzroy St, which may or may not have been the Scissor Sisters. I think it was. Anyway, I was standing against the door of the tram because there weren’t seats, but the tram was by no means full. And this innocuous-looking thirty-something business-suited guy got on and took up a position in front of me. He used his right hand to grasp one of the straps hanging from the roof, and, with his left hand, was holding against his thigh a black document wallet. Seems like a pointless story so far, right? WELL. He was standing much closer to me than was necessary, and, as we rattled along, I began to notice that, ‘due to the sway and jolt of the tram’, this whole setup meant that the knuckles of his left hand were quite frequently brushing against my vaginal area. Which made me uncomfortable. So I kept recoiling further and further into the corner I was in, but somehow, those darn blameless sways and jolts kept forcing his hand into that vicinity again and again, and even forced it to remain there. And I was feeling more and more humiliated and having an argument in my head, like, “FUCK. What an asshole. Or is he really an asshole? This doesn’t feel like an hilarious mix up, a completely unintentional and innocent situation, but what if it is? Am I being paranoid? What should I do? Oh, I feel so YUCK and angry and shamed and flushed and AT A LOSS. But what is the matter with me? I know this is a fucked up situation, don’t I? I mean, I’m really quite sure of that now. And I’m an empowered female, right? I should be able to handle this, instead of getting increasingly distressed and unable to make eye contact with anybody, including him.” I felt completely unable to say anything, and felt even more stupid for it. And then I realised what a weak failure I was, because the fear of a simple “Excuse me, please move away, you’re making me feel uncomfortable” being met with “Calm down you ugly paranoid bitch. AS IF I would ever sexually harass YOU”, was keeping me in my enraged and upset silence. So, me and my vaginal area continued to be the undisputed losers in this battle of wills. GOD DAMNIT. When I finally got off the tram, I felt ashamed and violated and angry, and it took all I had not to break down crying and run down the street to the safety of the Prince. But the fucker was following me, which in my weak and cowardly mind meant I had to affect a show of nonchalance and walk without any apparent concerns or troubles in the world. I am a mixed up kid, obviously.

So, that was the backstory. And that incident bugged me a lot. I mean, when that harassment stuff used to happen to me as a kid, I could at least acknowledge that, hey, I WAS A KID. I didn’t know so much stuff. I wasn’t as strong as I am now. And obviously, if those incidents of childhood were to be repeated now, boy, would I show those fuckers what’s what. But no. Even when I was 23, and a freakin lefty-pinko-feminist radio presenter to boot, I was still caught unawares and immobilised, just as if I were still eight years old, or thereabouts. It pained me. It felt so wrong, so unfair, so fucked up. With the added bonus that I felt bad about myself as well as detesting the bastard. But let’s move on to the DO-OVER TRIUMPH part of this story, shall we.

So, on the night of Wednesday February 1, 2006, I was on the St Kilda Beach tram going to see M.I.A at the Prince. Once again, I was standing against a door as there were no seats, but the tram was by no means full. And wouldn’t you know it, but that same innocuous-looking thirty-something business-suited guy got on. And he took up a position in front of me, his right hand hanging onto a strap from the roof, and surprise surprise, with his left hand he was clasping against his thigh that goddamn black document wallet. I say ‘surprise surprise’ only in an ironic way, because that was the beauty of this thing. It wasn’t a surprise. Every action merely confirmed all suspicions and left no cause for doubt or anxiety. And I rejoiced as the words DO OVER rang in my head. Because, for serious, how many times in your life do you actually get the opportunity to revisit a past humiliation and come out the WINNER? I don’t think it’s ever happened to me, at least. So, the sway and jolt of the tram began, and he was of course too close, and he was doing his thing again, but I wasn’t some debutante in this game anymore. There were no feelings of uncertainty or humiliation or powerlessless this time around. It was the same situation, I guess, but it felt so different. I had knowledge here, I had power. So I kept my face impassive, and took every opportunity ‘with the jolt of the tram’ to jab him in his side with my clenched fist. It took a few goes before he began to realise, ‘Hey, I’ve had a funny idea. Isn’t it just as simple and comfortable to hold my document wallet up against my chest, and to give this young lady some room? Dear me, it’s quite fine.’ Yes, this is what he said to himself, while sneaking furtive glances at cool calm and collected moi, before deciding to get off the tram at ‘his stop’. I know this probably seems like a tiny thing to you, but I was beaming and wanted to do a little dance and shout VICTORY IS MINE! Because, it was. Mine. I mean, I can make no claims to having made the situation any better for any of the other girls he harasses in this fashion, and quite regularly I would presume. But I stood up for myself. I defended myself. And I felt like a queen when I got off that tram to go and see M.I.A.

M.I.A was, of course, amazing. And better than at Big Day Out, of course. The support was crap though. Some boy hip-hoppers called Suburban Intellect, who, while I appreciated that there is something charming about giving shout-outs to Endeavour Hills, really weren’t what you would call exciting, or the best fit for M.I.A. She made people very happy, had great dance moves, great songs, and yes, great slow-mo running. You really can’t fault the woman [although when I spoke to Catherine on Saturday night she had a more thoughtful, ambivalent take on it].


Thursday February 2

Went to see Sleater-Kinney at the Corner. I was deeply deeply tired, but it was good. I found that I didn’t love The Grates so much as I thought, but, whatever. Sleater-Kinney put on a good gig, and I was too tired to really think more than that. I believe I enjoyed them more at Big Day Out, go figure.


Friday February 3 / Saturday February 4

A blur of work and then other work, and probably some Gilmore Girls watching. Also, this might have been when I watched Welcome To The Dollhouse and agreed, with everyone else who saw it back when that was a timely thing to do, that it is SUPER. Also watched Harold and Maude. That kid is damn hilarious! What a good thing that film is. Also watched Breakfast At Tiffany’s, but found it to be arse. And watched The OC season premiere and found it to be silly and way below what it should be. Disappointing.


Sunday February 5

Went to dinner at Guy and Camille’s house. Broke the news to Camille that Breakfast At Tiffany’s sucked, which is not her opinion of it at all. Ate some dahl and cous cous and yoghurt and french vanilla slice. Dropped The OC at Simon’s girlfriend’s place and didn’t want to pre-judge anything for him. He has since messaged that it was amazing. Simon, I disagree. But let’s explore that.


Monday February 6

This might have been the day when I bought a best of Nancy Sinatra, and the guy at JB HiFi asked if I lived in Abbotsford, and I said no, and he said, “Oh, I thought you were the girl who lives above me.” See how I tell you everything. Got home from work and watched Desperate Housewives. I really don’t love this show like I’m supposed to.


Tuesday February 7

Did the Breakfast Show, worked, got home and looked over Guy’s AMAZING conference paper, which would be delivered on Thursday. I believe I watched Prison Break and didn’t love it. I really need to find some TV that is actually on the TV to be into (apart from Wonder Falls).


Wednesday February 8

Uneventful. Just working, Gilmore Girls-ing, L Word Season 3-ing, and so forth. Oh yeah, and I think we got a new VCR on this day, and I tuned it disregarding the instructions. I am that much of a technical whiz. Dad of course required that it be christened with Sleepless In Seattle. He has three movies that he loves to watch a lot, and they are; Sleepless, Housesitter, and Accidental Hero. I personally don’t understand what he sees in Accidental Hero. But he has been going through a significant family trauma of late, so we allow him his entertainments. I quite enjoy them too, as they’re quite rare little treats. He usually busies himself by reading many many books at the kitchen table, ignoring the audio visual side of culture except to express disapproval. But when things get morose, as they have in recent months, we get to revisit his favourites - thus Sleepless, or, and this is what I particularly enjoy, his records. I don’t want you to think that I’m enjoying my father’s pain, just that I’m enjoying the Melanie Safka, Jeannie Lewis, Sondheim, Manhatten Transfer, and Sammy Davis Jr that most usually accompany his pain. I’m pretty over the Peter Sellers at this point, though.


Thursday February 9

Hurrah, the RU486 vote went as it should have in the Senate. After work, went to Brunswick St to meet up for Camille’s birthday dinner, realised I was an hour early so went to their place to wait it out. Then dinner and pleasantness and great food and a split down the middle of the table.


Friday February 10

After work, went shopping and bought a lot of black things, which I haven’t done for a while. I’ve been on a ‘colour’ stretch, which may have been noticeable to no-one else but me. But I found good black pieces on this day, and they won’t be denied. Also, got a free watch with my Priceline purchases, so now I have a watch. I have been looking for a watch for a while, but was never able to settle on one I liked. Priceline has made it so easy, as, because the watch is free, I have no apologies to make for it. Liberating. I also bought a big fishnet covered pearl necklace, just in case Laurie was right, and Erin’s party on Saturday was ghetto-themed. It wasn’t, but I would wear the necklace anyway.

Later, went to see Deerhoof at the Northcote Social Club. I walked in for the last two songs of the support, My Disco. Very fucking good. Deerhoof were super extra fucking good. They didn’t play the song Dave wanted, but they played both the ones I was after, and more, of course. Truly, this band are the real deal in good things, and I found myself very attracted to that bassist/singer guy in the grey jumper. Just saying. They look like decent, honourable people with impeccable opinions and confidence in what they are doing, in a good way. Also, thank you so much Dave for mentioning Low’s Things We Lost In The Fire in passing. Fucking lovely.


Saturday February 11

Finished the last episodes of Gilmore Girls Season 6. Discovered that the show has been taken off the TV. Also discovered that I’m quite disconnected from the outrage I should be feeling at such an event. Stupid broadband - as necessary as running water though it may be – has removed me from the depressive rages of The People, who simply ask that good shows be put on TV and carried through to their conclusions. And I’m sorry Green Guide letter writers, but advising everyone to ‘get the DVD’ is not the solution. Making the TV networks program in a sane fashion is the solution. Stop dismissing The People’s concerns, you stinkingly smug TV-from-the-internet-on-demand folk. You make me ashamed to be one of you. Another thing that makes me ashamed is the ad on Channel 9 with the slow, ‘moving’ music with accompanying slow ‘significant’ talking, in an ad about how Monday night is Australian night on Channel 9 because Bert’s Family Feud, Temptation: The New Sale Of The Century, and Who Wants To Be A Millionaire are on. INSANE. These are GAME SHOWS. They do not get syrupy treatment. That is MADNESS.

Went to Erin’s birthday party, and it was like being back in the day. People were talking about the blog, like what used to happen circa 2004. It was pretty damn old school. Anyways, great music, great people, great cat.


Sunday February 12

Spent the day watching DVDs. We have been on that free trial with Bigpond Movies, where they send us DVDs in the mail. It is a great thing, and it makes me feel quite thrilled to be doing something (other than downloading) that I read about and presented on for my uni studies, BUT IN A REAL WORLD SETTING. Anyway, on this day I watched Withnail & I, Five Easy Pieces, and Tarnation. During this marathon I began to notice that all my random snatches at culture have had a habit of synching up in recent weeks. For example, the brother in Welcome To The Dollhouse whose face was so familiar but it took me a while to place him. He’s the dude who gets shot through the cheeks in Ride With The Devil (the video of which recently arrived from Amazon.co.uk). Or, finding the vocal woman Jack Nicholson has sex with at one point in Five Easy Pieces very familiar, only to realise that she's Sally Struthers, as in, from the Gilmore Girls (most recently). Or, the EG article I read mid-marathon, in which Clem Bastow wrote about that scene in Sleepless in Seattle where Tom Hanks and Victor Garber pretend to blubber about The Dirty Dozen. Except that in her article she wrote that they were blubbering about something called 'Three Easy Pieces', and, as I had JUST finished watching Five Easy Pieces, I was in a position (aside from the fact that I know Sleepless by heart and had had a refresher earlier in the week, c/- Dad’s pain) to know that she was wrong upon wrong in her throwaway pop-cultural reference. And such an occurrence I find weird. You know, like, out of randomness, suddenly knowing things just at the very moment when it’s useful to know them. Like sure, pop culture is laced with pop culture and if you have enough ‘cultural capital’ you can join the dots, but it’s so vast you see, so it’s weird when things synch up, even down to minutes. Anyway, the synching thing I want to focus on from this day is that Tarnation is positively dripping with Low, a band that, as I said, I only discovered existed on Friday night and of course downloaded immediately. So, when I sat down to watch Tarnation, I had just been all in my brother’s face about how Low is so great, you gotta listen to Low, and then the movie starts, and I’m like “It’s Low it’s Low it’s Low.” There was some Magnetic Fields in there too. And I decided, hey, if you’re going to make a feature-length music video clip of your dysfunctional family (which is still very moving and I would recommend you watch, by the way), you’ve got to have good taste in music. Which the guy definitely had, is my point.

Finished the day by speaking to my sister in Darwin. The thing we do each week is I reel off what I’ve seen and listened to etc, and she goes through the motions of being jealous. However, this time around, she’d already seen Jarhead, which I won’t be seeing until Tuesday night. Basically her review is that it has some disturbing scenes which freak you out even more about just who is allowed to get trained to use guns and, in the context of defence and such, given a pass to kill people. Also, I asked her if Sarsgaard is all wise and honourable and hot and decent in it, and she said he was. Anyway, as I was rattling through my bits, another weird synching moment happened, which was quite fortuitous actually. We discovered that we are both reading Philip Roth for the first time. I am reading Portnoy’s Complaint, and she is reading The Plot Against America. I tell her that I am enjoying how blog-like the exclamatory hysterics of Portnoy’s Complaint are, which of course means that the writing style I’m currently hitched to is so passé as to have been utilised by Roth in the late 1960s [stand back, people, I am not comparing myself to Roth. That dude is cool.]. Anyway, we moved on to a discussion of her book and, long story short, in the course of this discussion I managed to save my sister from potential humiliation. And this was a nice end to the weekend. I won’t go into it here because I really couldn’t bear anyone thinking ill of my big sister. That would suck completely. The point is, I SAVED HER, and it gave me a nice feeling, much like when I used to carry her over seaweed, or have her hang on to me for dear life on the Parliament station escalator.

Watched the finale of Carnivale, which I was enjoying up until the terrible stuff at the end. NO! I didn't want that to happen! That is the OPPOSITE of what I wanted to happen! Then I watched that thing on Compass about women's experiences of abortion/adoption/unwed mother-ness in the 60s. It was a very good program. But boy I couldn't sleep for a while. I had that standard phantom reaction I get to such things where the walls of my uterus feel like they are bruised or something and I feel quite unwell.


Monday 13 February

Oh my god. Now we can add “YOUR VP SHOT A 78-YEAR-OLD MAN” to the things about America that sound (and are) really bad when you break it down.

Anyway, must to bed, as I have radio in the morning. As it will be Valentine’s Day, I’m planning on playing some love-but-not-love songs, but at the moment I’m in a pickle as to precisely which Magnetic Fields song to play. I’m leaning towards I Don’t Believe You, but I Thought You Were My Boyfriend and The Saddest Story Ever Told both have their charms too…

Went to see Franz Ferdinand last night.

They seem to be at the top of their game and all, but I guess I'm no longer totally jazzed about them. Also, twas hilariously contemptible that the lame-o couple in front of me actually decided to make out after that Eleanor Friedberger-inspired love song. I mean, dudes, yes, it is a love song I suppose, but it is very specifically not about you. Weirdness. Makes me think of those people who make out to REM's The One I Love. Anyways, Cut Copy supported and were, of course, great.

Moving on, a mini-identity crisis has just come upon me. See, I was picking up the mail this morning in my temporary professional capacity, and got a message from Laurie saying how she can't believe it, but The OC is actually a good show. And I was like, yeah... hey, what? Bit random, no? And then I just checked the blog and read Simon's comment on Monday's post:

In other, more important news: did anyone tape the OC, I repeat, did ANYONE tape the OC???!!!

To which I now reply:

OH. GOD. I. DID. NOT. EVEN. KNOW. IT. WAS. ON.

JESUS!

Thus the identity crisis. I mean, I DIDN'T KNOW... ME! And I can't even remember the last time I read the Green Guide back-to-front, or even at all. This is truly shocking.

However, all I can say is, thank goodness for LimeWire.

LimeWire, Simon. LimeWire.

So, the weekend.

Saw Walk The Line on Saturday afternoon. It’s great great great. Great. Loved it.


Mmmmm. Intense love. Can’t beat it.

Then on Saturday night I saw The White Stripes at Festy Hall. They were, of course, fantastic. As if they wouldn’t be. I was especially glad they played Red Rain. However, the support act, The Greenhornes, were a bit so-so. Not much to get excited about, but the drum sound was good. Anyway, I’m loving Jack’s new pants, and the extra belt with like, garter things hanging off the back. That’s pretty excellent.

On Sunday, it was Big Day Out, and these are the acts I saw:

The Grates

British India

Sarah Blasko

Cut Copy

Sleater-Kinney

The Go! Team

Kings Of Leon

M.I.A.

Iggy & The Stooges

The White Stripes

The Grates were fine, and well-dressed. British India was also fine, and I think they dressed well too. And Sarah Blasko was also fine and well-dressed. But things didn’t really get super exciting until Cut Copy. You really cannot see this band too many times. And during Sleater-Kinney there were two levels of fun: 1) discovering that Sleater-Kinney are damn great, and 2) watching Jack White watch Sleater-Kinney. He was nodding his head and everything, like a normal person. REVELATION. The Go! Team were better when I saw them at the Corner last year, but that’s true of most things Big Day Out [see: The Grates]. For example, watching the Kings Of Leon, from a great distance and in intense heat, is not so much fun as watching them, you know, inside somewhere. And being able to see them play, for the most part. However, the glimpses I got of them in their scanty black singlets/waistcoats will have to be enough for me this time around, as a few months ago I had to make the heartbreaking decision between seeing them and M.I.A, after evil scheduling put both sideshows on the same night. And I chose M.I.A. Who was great too, by the way. With the dancing, and the running in slow-motion, and the great songs, etc. Before she was on, I also saw a bit of LCD Soundsystem dude being a DJ. So, you know, I'm ticking off boxes. And then I saw IGGY POP… from a great distance. But I still saw him, and heard him. And he was funny. And played I Wanna Be Your Dog twice, for some reason. Also, for some reason, there were strange homophobic text messages running along the top of the big screen during the Stooges' set. People were using the opportunity of big screen texting to say, like, how some guy was gay and liked it up the ass or something. HA HA. Sure, there were a whole bunch of different messages, from "I lost my shoe" to "RIP some friend who died recently. Rock on!", etc, but the homo stuff was a theme often repeated. Which I found a little odd. What's up with the kids today, etc etc? Anyway, finished the day with The White Stripes, this time from a much greater distance than the night before. But damn, when he wears that hat, he looks so hot and eerie. Especially from a great distance with bright lights behind him and dark clouds amassing, etc.

POST-BROKEBACK POST

I saw it this afternoon, and I wasn't going to blog about it until tomorrow, need my rest and all that. But I can't get to sleep as I keep welling up with tears and wanting to discreetly expel some kind of noise, so my throat's all tight etc etc. So I might as well do this now. First of all, I was already about to break up as the first screenshot came on, so I may have been a little overly 'on' for this outing. And when it finished, I didn't quite know what to say. I wasn't as blown away as I thought I'd be, I was just quite seriously affected by it. It is a lovely film, okay. And it breaks your heart quite a bit, especially Jake Gyllenhaal. He's so open and... I'm sorry, but I'm going to cry again. And that's the thing. It's not the constant impassioned tragedy I was expecting, but, at the same time, it is, if you get my meaning. And I like it more for that. The whole thing. All the parts. It's like, you think you're just going along, watching the everyday lives of people, biding your time until you get to the good stuff, when the two of them meet up again so you can get some feeling, but the parts in between are just as much a part of the tragedy as the intense heartbreaking outbursts that make you cry and cry. So yes, what a relief. It's a great film. It felt honest and true. I love fiction like that, where the characters feel real and are allowed to be themselves. A bunch of decent people living with undercurrents of dissatisfaction and frustration and hope and longing and mundanity and bliss and loss, fighting little battles for pride and dignity and missing out on so much joy. And that's really fucking sad, okay?

DUDE'S GOT ISSUES.

I'VE GOT ISSUES WITH DUDE.

Here is a grab bag of today's ickiness.

ICK #1

Approaching his 10th anniversary as Prime Minister, Mr Howard also hailed research showing that fewer Australians were ashamed of the nation's past. "I welcome this corrective in our national sense of self."

Ucking feck! An incorrect lack of shame is not a corrective. I BLAME YOU FOR THIS.

"Young people are at risk of being disinherited from their community if that community lacks the courage and confidence to teach its history."

True. However, you don't mean it like I mean it, do you. See, I think we are being disinherited of our history because your view - that history should be tailored so that it instils feelings of pride in people - is holding sway in the public discourse. Which is backwards and wrong. We SHOULD KNOW, at a very immediate and ingrained level, what it took to get us here, and how intertwined our 'achievement' is with the systematic and ideologically supported abuse of indigenous peoples, for ONE thing. So dude, YOU are the one that lacks courage and confidence. YOU are the one who is ripping us off. You'd prefer to give people a false impression, and then crow that the false impression has taken root. INSANE, dude. The study of history is supposed to be a thoughtful and critical engagement with the past, placing heavy emphasis on, you know, facts-slash-the evaluation of a variety of possible veracities. This is not dodgy relativism, it's JUST THE WAY IT IS. And so, to flip it up on ya, I think you'll find that understanding that there is more to history than one overriding 'structured narrative' [structured by who? etc etc] actually IS true blue, Aussie as, realism and balance. DICK.

He warned that, in the search for the right balance in the age of terrorism between the legitimate interest of the community and individual civil rights, a bill of rights was not the way to go. "I believe it would lessen our ability to manage and resolve conflict in a free society."

PLEASE EXPLAIN. What on earth does that mean? Having rights makes things too complicated when you need to lock people up incommunicado?

ICK #2

I have bolded the most objectionable bits. And have sometimes been unable to restrain myself from commenting on them. These comments are italicised in square brackets. (Full scale ick can be read here.)

No country has absorbed as many people from as many nations and as many cultures as Australia and done it so well. The strength of a culturally diverse community, united by an overriding and unifying commitment to Australia, is one of our greatest achievements and one of our greatest national assets.
Some have questioned my optimism, especially in the wake of the violence in Sydney earlier this summer. These events brought shame on all involved. Australians, whatever their background, deserve to be treated with tolerance and with respect.
Racial intolerance is incompatible with the kind of society we are and want to be. Within limits, all Australians have the right to express their culture and beliefs and to participate freely in our national life. And all Australians have a civic responsibility to support the basic structures and values of Australian society which guarantee us our freedom and equality.
The criminal behaviour of last December should be met with the full force of the law. I do not believe it calls for either national self-flagellation or moral panic. Our response should reflect this nation's unswerving commitment to racial equality, coupled with an absolute determination to ensure that all sections of the Australian community are fully integrated into the mainstream of our national life.
On these bedrock principles rest both rights and responsibilities that apply to all Australians. In the 21st century, maintaining our social cohesion will remain the highest test of the Australian achievement. It demands the best Australian ideals of tolerance and decency, as well as the best Australian traditions of realism and balance.
Australia's ethnic diversity is one of the enduring strengths of our nation. Yet our celebration of diversity must not be at the expense of the common values that bind us together as one people - respect for the freedom and dignity of the individual, a commitment to the rule of law, the equality of men and women and a spirit of egalitarianism that embraces tolerance, fair play and compassion for those in need. [GAH! That you of all people can speak of fairness and compassion.]
Nor should it be at the expense of ongoing pride in what are commonly regarded as the values, traditions and accomplishments of the old Australia.
A sense of shared values is our social cement. Without it we risk becoming a society governed by coercion rather than consent. [DUDE, you've already made it one of those. To an unprecedented degree. Anti-terrorism bill, much?] That is not an Australia I want to live in. [Me neither. And yet, we do. BECAUSE OF YOU] Again, our goal must be to strive for a balance in questions of national identity and cultural diversity. And for the most part I think we achieve it. We've drawn back from being too obsessed with diversity to a point where Australians are now better able to appreciate the enduring values of the national character that we proudly celebrate and preserve. [Most honest you've ever been about your agenda.]
We've moved on from a time when multiculturalism, in the words of the historian Gregory Melleuish, came to be associated with "the transformation of Australia from a bad old Australia that was xenophobic, racist and monocultural to a good new Australia that is culturally diverse, tolerant and exciting". [WHY, WHY, WHY DID WE MOVE ON FROM THAT TIME? Again, I blame you.] Such a view was always a distortion and a caricature.
Most nations experience some level of cultural diversity while also having a dominant cultural pattern running through them. Our dominant pattern comprises Judeo-Christian ethics, the progressive spirit of the Enlightenment and the institutions and values of British political culture. Its democratic and egalitarian temper also bears the imprint of distinct Irish and non-conformist traditions. [Quit trying to stamp them out then, if you love them so much.] Of course, each wave of new settlers to Australia influences our culture and character, helping to forge new attitudes and traditions. From our art and literature to our scholarship and diplomacy, greater cultural diversity has changed how we see ourselves and how we view the world. It has contributed to our more enterprising and entrepreneurial society. We should have faith in what we have achieved and what we have become.
I believe the time has also come for root and branch renewal of the teaching of Australian history in our schools, both in terms of the numbers learning and the way it is taught. For many years, fewer than one in four senior secondary students in Australia has taken a history subject, and only a fraction of this study relates to Australian history. Real concerns also surround the teaching of Australian history in lower secondary and primary schools.
Too often, Australian history has fallen victim in an ever more crowded curriculum to subjects deemed more "relevant" to today. Too often, it is taught without any sense of structured narrative, replaced by a fragmented stew of "themes" and "issues". And too often, history, along with other subjects in the humanities, has succumbed to a postmodern culture of relativism where any objective record of achievement is questioned or repudiated. [Questioning is GOOD.]
Part of preparing young Australians to be informed and active citizens is to teach them the central currents of our nation's development. [Racism, exploitation, violence... So that we may tackle them and stop the pattern from repeating. Denial. Isn't. Working.] The subject matter should include indigenous history as part of the whole national inheritance. It should also cover the great and enduring heritage of Western civilisation, those nations that became the major tributaries of European settlement and in turn a sense of the original ways in which Australians from diverse backgrounds have created our own distinct history.
In the end, young people are at risk of being disinherited from their community if that community lacks the courage and confidence to teach its history. [True.] This applies as much to the children of seventh generation Australians or indigenous children as it does to those of recent migrants, young Australian Muslims, or any other category one might want to mention.
When it comes to being an Australian, there is no hierarchy of descent. Whether our ancestors were here thousands of years ago, whether they came on the First Fleet or in the 19th century, or whether we or our ancestors are among the millions of Australians who have come to our shores since the Second World War, we are all equally Australians - one no better than the other.
So let us indeed celebrate our diversity. But we should also affirm the sentiment that propelled our nation to Federation 105 years ago - one People, One Destiny.

ICK #3

"The other observation I will make is there is no reluctance on the part of those who are already Australian in accepting people who have chosen to make this country home."

AS LONG AS you are prepared to change and we don't have to for a second. Also, we reserve the right to turn on you the moment you start to think maybe that's unfair.


ICK #4

Patriotism is spiking. The Australian flag is outside more public buildings and suburban homes than ever before, according to Melbourne's oldest flag manufacturer, Evan Evans. Sales have increased three-fold in the past five years, with the most notable rise among private rather than corporate buyers.

CREEPY. CHILLS.


COUNTER-ICK #1

Dr Kwan attributes much of the current rise in patriotism, especially among the young, to the activity of conservative lobby groups and policies of the Federal Government…

…Dr Kwan said Americans' preoccupation with their flag, "Old Glory", began in the 1880s as their cities were flooded with non-English-speaking immigrants. She wonders whether the same thing might be happening in Australia, as our migrant intake has shifted from mainly Anglo-Saxon to larger numbers of people from Asia and the Middle East.
"Groups pushing the anti-change-to-the-flag line have an attitude of hanging on to what they see as the old Australia, an Anglo-Saxon Australia," she said.

COUNTER-ICK #2

Even so, the xenophobia that has typified much of Australian history and was the dark undercurrent at Cronulla, is now part, for a significant number of Australians, of what it means to be Australian. This is borne out in the acceptance of mandatory detention and in suspicion displacing charity towards asylum seekers.

Anyway, let's not think about that now. Today isn't even Australia Day, really. Because....

IT'S BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN DAY!

Petitions.

Sign this. And don’t say it’s naff. Sure, “With fire in our bellies and love in our hearts”, is naff, but war is naffer, yo. I mean, for serious.


And most definitely sign this one. Because there is absolutely no reason at all to deny women access to mifepristone. And, there is extra extra no reason for this to be the ONLY drug which requires the Health Minister to go before parliament and ask for it to be approved. Bastard. Harradine. Bastard. In conclusion, it's safer than a surgical abortion, it's safer than continuing a pregnancy. Dr Caroline de Costa told me that. And yes, she's a DOCTOR. So don't believe the haters. FIGHT the haters.

New musical obsession.

Went to see Antony and the Johnsons tonight, and while it was lovely to find out that he is also a warmly funny man, all I can really say is COCO!!!!!! ROSIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie. CocoRosie.

Quite possibly, most probably, THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN... EVER.

And I'm seeing them again on Sunday night at the Northcote Social Club. You really should too. I MEAN IT. It will most likely be the best experience of your entire life. NO JOKE. For example, they make me feel like that childhood period when I wore tracksuit pants on my head in public was my coolest ever. POWERFUL.

Some things I have lately consumed:

Wolf Creek. I saw it at the Moonlight Cinema the other night. I only mention the venue because it appears to make an impression on people, and they say things like, "You're brave/Are you crazy?". However, I don't think the setting really made a lot of difference. The film was okay. Not super scary in any spooky way. More about how some guy is really cruel and mean, and that is quite a bad thing - how people can be so mean. The main thing I liked about the film was the young male lead's discomfort with the sexism from other men that he was expected to respond to in kind, or to not make a fuss about. It really pissed him off, and I thought that was done really well. Otherwise, it was basically an okay movie, and it makes me get phantom twinges in my mid-spine area every once in a while.

Good Night And Good Luck. This is bloody terrific. You will love it. It's so honourable and you really appreciate the precision of the language and the thinking etc. It is near perfect, the only flaw occuring in the first few moments of the film, when words appear on screen to situate the time and context, and, unforgiveably, this happens:

"...in the 1940's and 1950's..."

Shameful, I know. Indefensible. However, don't let that turn you off this fantastic, GREAT movie.

Broken Flowers. This was so-so. I liked its pace, and Bill Murray is still cool and there's a lovely warmth to the home of his neighbour, and the visit to Frances Conroy is particularly good, and I like the lack of resolution, especially the awkwardness of dealing in reality [well, the character's reality] with something that only seems likely because of the expectation of narrative resolution, so that even Bill Murray's character believes for a moment, 'huh, nothing's really happened. At all... And why should it? But, wait a second, out of nowhere, could this be...?' etc, and then all he does is freak out some kid. That was cool. But still, I think I expected it to be better. It seems quite a slight film.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Best Potter movie yet. I'm sorry, but I really enjoy the books, have a real fondness for them, etc. And all the movies so far have been EXTREME disappointments. But I was gleeful when I walked out of this one. You see, THEY'VE FINALLY FIGURED OUT HOW TO MAKE A POTTER MOVIE. Thank fuck.

King Kong. I thought this was really good, but way too fucking long. I usually don't have a problem with length, but in this one you really felt the length of some scenes. They really dragged after a while, so even if they were action-packed, you were like, 'it's been 15 minutes. Enough already. Kill that giant beast, please. Oh god, now there's another giant beast to kill. Could you make it a quickie, please? Holy fuck, we are still on this fucking island.' There was also a laughable sub-plot involving little Jimmy and his wish to be brave and his self-sacrificing mentor dude being all, "Run Jimmy. It's not cowardly to run", etc. Which was all pretty funny. All that said, it's definitely a good movie. The three leads (Kong, Naomi Watts, and Adrien Brody) were all very appealing. The scene in which Naomi was freaking out in Kong's paw was really great - shown first from her perspective of being totally shitscared and thinking Kong meant to dash her brains out against some rock, and then zooming out to see that he was behaving quite naturally, just swinging his arms and displaying no intent to harm [big race relations/culture clash subtext here if I am not mistaken]. I actually found the film very emotionally powerful [translation: I cried], especially from the scene where Kong is finally subdued on the island onwards. You really felt the themes of dignity and pity etc, etc. Sad.

LETTERMAN IS MY HERO.

EVEN MORE THAN USUAL, I MEAN.

UPDATE: Although I’m deeply indebted to the link above for the transcript, I can’t really handle the typos, so I’m posting up my proofed and enhanced version of it. I just really want you all to experience the thing. Here it is.

Letterman: Our first guest is the host of cable television's number one news program, The O'Reilly Factor. It can be seen five nights a week on Fox News. Ladies and gentlemen, here's Bill O'Reilly. Bill come on out. Welcome back.

O'Reilly: Thank you.

Letterman: Happy New Year. Welcome back to the show. Tell me and people what you did before the O'Reilly Factor, Fox News thing.

O'Reilly: I was running the deli downstairs with that guy they have.

[OUTRAGE! Rupert Jee is NOT ‘that guy they have’, you insensitive boob! – Elanor reads Dave’s mind too.]

Letterman: Is that a fact? [YOU COCK]

O'Reilly: So, you can build on that career he's making.

Letterman: Yeah, but seriously. [If you go there again, I will cut you. Rupert Jee is quintuple the man you are. Move along, creep.]

O'Reilly: I did a show called Inside Edition. Then, before that, I was a correspondent for ABC News, Peter Jennings, and before that CBS News.

Letterman: So, you're a life-long news journalist? [Best. Joke. Ever.]

O'Reilly: Yeah.

Letterman: How were your holidays? Good?

[laughter]

O'Reilly: I had a nice Winter Solstice, yeah.

[long pause and laughter]

Letterman: Okay.

O'Reilly: You can't say - you can't say Christmas.

Letterman: You can't say Christmas?

O'Reilly: No.

Letterman: Why is that?

O'Reilly: Because it is politically incorrect and we did a lot of reporting on this and uh, that was the big thing we were doing leading up to that. While you were in St. Barts, we were leading up to the Christmas holidays by saying ‘hey, how come we can't say Christmas?’

Letterman: I wasn't aware that you couldn't say Christmas. When did this happen?

O'Reilly: Sears Kmart started it, said no more Christmas. It's all Happy Holidays or Winter Solstice. I actually got a card from a friend of mine, it said have a Blessed Winter. I live in New York. You know what you can do with your blessed winter. You know what I'm talking about? Are you with me Dave?

[Absolutely not.]

Letterman: I wasn't aware that this had happened.

O'Reilly: You weren't aware of the Big Giant Controversy over Christmas?

Letterman: Well, I ignore stuff like that. It doesn't really affect me. I go ahead and do what I wanna do, and you know, I say Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy New Year, Happy Hanukkah.

O'Reilly: Here's why it matters - you with me on this?

Letterman: Yeah.

[Except not.]

O'Reilly: Okay. Ridgewood elementary school in Dodgeville, Wisconsin. The song Silent Night… Silent Night, you know? Knocked out the words and told the little kids to sing: ‘cold in the night, no one in sight, winter winds wind and bite, how I wish I was happy and warm, safe with my family, out of the storm.’ They replaced the words to Silent Night with that. Now, with all due respect, I even think the baby Jesus would say, ‘gimme a break’. You know? You want another one?

Letterman: No, but let’s - I don't…

O'Reilly: Whoa, whoa, whoa. When great tradition…

Letterman: But what does this prove? It proves that one community…

O'Reilly: It proves there are pinheads at the Ridgewell, uh, elementary school in Wisconsin.

Letterman: Right.

O'Reilly: That's what it proves.

Letterman: Right.

O'Reilly: Here’s another one. You want another one? Or are you bored with this?

Letterman: I'm kinda - think we should move on… I mean, but isn't this the kind of thing, uh, once or twice every twenty years, somebody gets outraged and says ‘oh by god, we gotta put diapers on horses’? Isn't it just about… it's just, So What. Let it go, it'll take care of itself.

O’Reilly: No. There is a movement in this country by politically correct people to erode traditions and this Christmas tradition is the most cherished in the country. Look. How absurd is it?

Letterman: But I don't -

[talking over each other]

Letterman: I don't feel threatened.

O'Reilly: It's not matter of you feel threatened.

Letterman: I don't think this is an actual threat. I think this is something that happened here and it happened there and so people like you are trying to make us think that it's a threat.

O'Reilly: Wrong.

Letterman: Because nobody said Happy Holidays to me and then said ‘Merry Christmas… oh I can't say Merry Christmas’.

O'Reilly: Well, here's why it gets to be more than that, because it's in court. There are lawsuits. In Plano, Texas, another grammar school, umm the kids were told not to bring in any Christmas colours, like napkins that are red and green. That's in court. That's being litigated. Now, you can say ‘oh that's just a little thing, it doesn't affect you’, but it isn't. The erosion of the culture and the protection of tradition is important in this country.

Letterman: Yeah, but are we really describing an erosion here? It’s two examples, one in Wisconsin and one in Texas.

O'Reilly: I got a million of them.

Letterman: Oh you got a million of them. Okay. Fine.

O'Reilly: Umm and they're funny ones. Memphis, Tennessee - bible belt - library they have a little display where you can, say you are in a duck hunting club you can bring in a dead duck and put it there and advertise your duck hunting club. We kill ducks. Show up at 9 o’clock and we'll blow some ducks out of the air. Okay. There was a church that wanted to advertise a Christmas pageant so they brought in the manger scene and the library said, ‘you can have the manger scene in Memphis, Tennessee, but you can't have the baby Jesus, Joseph, or Mary or the wise men. We’re not sure about the shepherds’. That was a big debate. Now how stupid and crazy is this?

Letterman: I don't believe you.

O'Reilly: It's true

Letterman: I don't believe you. I don't...I don't believe you.

O'Reilly: You think I'm making this up?

Letterman: I do.

O'Reilly: Then I could write for your show. This mine?

[referring to mug of beverage]

Letterman: Yes. Let’s talk about your friends in the Bush Administration. Things seem to be darker now…

O'Reilly: [interjects] They don't like me.

Letterman: …than they might have been a year before. How do things look to you?

O'Reilly: It's pretty rough, but they're not my friends in the Bush Administration. They're not kicking the door down to be on my show. In fact you have an easier time getting President Bush to come on here than I have getting him to come on the Factor. But I think that the Iraq thing has been full of unintended consequences, and it’s a vital thing for the country and it's brutal, it’s absolutely brutal. We should all take it very seriously. This simplistic stuff about hating Bush or ‘he lied’ and all this stuff, does the country no good at all. We've got to win this thing. You have to win it. And even though it's a screw-up, giant, massive, all right - right now, for everybody's protection, it's best for the world to have a democracy in that country functioning and friendly to the West, is it not?

David Letterman: Yes, absolutely.

O'Reilly: Okay, so let's stop with the lying and the this and the that and the undermining and ‘let's get him’. That is putting us all in danger. So our philosophy is, we call it as we see it. Sometimes you agree, sometimes you don't. Robust debate is good. But we believe that the United States, particularly the military, are doing a noble thing. A noble thing. The soldiers and Marines are noble. They're not terrorists. And when people call them that, like Cindy Sheehan, called the insurgents 'freedom fighters’, we don't like that. It is a vitally important time in American history. And we should all take it very seriously. Be very careful with what we say.

Letterman: Well, and you should be very careful with what you say also.

[audience applause]

O'Reilly: Give me an example.

Letterman: How can you possibly take exception with the motivation and the position of someone like Cindy Sheehan?

O'Reilly: Because I think she’s run by far-left elements in this country. I feel bad for the woman.

Letterman: Have you lost family members in armed conflict?

O'Reilly: No, I have not.

Letterman: Well, then you can hardly speak for her, can you?

[applause]

O'Reilly: I'm not speaking for her. Let me ask you this question.

Letterman: Let's go back to your little red and green stories.

O'Reilly: This is important, this is important. Cindy Sheehan lost a son, a professional soldier in Iraq, correct? She has a right to grieve any way she wants, she has a right to say whatever she wants. When she says to The Public that the insurgents and terrorists are 'freedom fighters’ how do you think, David Letterman, that makes people who lost loved ones, by these people blowing the hell out of them, how do you think they feel? What about their feelings, sir?

Letterman: What about, why are we there in the first place? [applause] The President himself, less than a month ago, said we are there because of a mistake made in intelligence. Well, whose intelligence? Was it just somebody got off a bus and handed it to him?

O'Reilly: No.

Letterman: No, it was the intelligence gathered by his administration.

O'Reilly: By the CIA.

Letterman: Yeah, so why are we there in the first place? I agree to you, with you, that we have to support the troops. They are there, they are the best and the brightest of this country. [audience applause] There's no doubt about that. And I also agree that now we're in it it's going to take a long, long time. People who expect it's going to be solved and wrapped up in a couple of years – unrealistic. It's not going to happen. However, however, that does not eliminate the legitimate speculation and concern and questioning of why the hell are we there to begin with?

O'Reilly: If you want to question that, and then revamp an intelligence agency that's obviously flawed, the CIA, okay. But remember, MI-6 in Britain [he pronounces it 'M-one-six'. Wrong.] said the same thing. Putin's people in Russia said the same thing, and so did Mubarak's intelligence agency in Egypt.

Letterman: Well then that makes it all right?

O'Reilly: No it doesn't make it right.

Letterman: That the intelligence across the board makes it alright that we're there?

O'Reilly: It doesn't make it right.

Letterman: See, I'm very concerned about people like yourself, who don't have nothing but endless sympathy for a woman like Cindy Sheehan. Honest to christ!

[audience applause]

O'Reilly: No, I'm sorry.

Letterman: Honest to christ!

O'Reilly: No way. [waits for applause to die down] No way you're going to get me, no way that a terrorist who blows up women and children…

Letterman: [interjects] Do you have children?

O'Reilly: Yes I do. I have a son the same age as yours. No way a terrorist who blows up women and children is going to be called a ‘freedom fighter’ on my program.

[mild audience applause]

Letterman: I'm not smart enough to debate you point to point on this, but I have the feeling, I have the feeling about 60 percent of what you say is crap. [audience laughter. Paul yells “AAA-AH!” in a so-Paul way.] But I don't know that for a fact.

[more audience applause]

Paul Shaffer: Sixty percent.

Letterman: Sixty percent. I'm just spit-balling here.

O'Reilly: Listen, I respect your opinion. You should respect mine.

[not going to happen]

Letterman: Well, ah, I, okay. But I think you're - […scum]

O'Reilly: Our analysis is based on the best evidence we can get.

Letterman: Yeah, but I think there's something - this fair and balanced. I'm not sure that it's, I don't think that you represent an objective viewpoint.

O'Reilly: Well, you're going to have to give me an example if you're going to make those claims.

Letterman: [delivered impeccably] Well, I don't watch your show so that would be impossible.

O'Reilly: Then why would you come to that conclusion if you don't watch the program?

Letterman: Because of things that I've read, things that I know.

O'Reilly: Oh come on, you're going to take things that you've read? You know what they say about you? Come on. Watch it for a couple, look, watch it for a half hour. You'll get addicted. You'll be a Factor Fan, we'll send you a hat.

Letterman: You'll send me a hat. Well, send Cindy Sheehan a hat.

O'Reilly: I'll be happy to.

Letterman: Uh, Bill, it's always a pleasure.

O'Reilly: Thank you very much. Happy New Year.

Letterman: Same to you.