Can confirm the goodness of Goodbye Lenin! which was signalled by Guy. Really liked it. And man, I love that Eastern Block thing. They really know their clothes and cars. I hope that aesthetic isn't tainted or anything. That would be unfair. I liked that about the film, too. It seemed really sweet-natured and fair about the pros and cons of each society. Nice.

Hey, did anybody else just watch This Is Rockbitch on SBS? You know, that documentary about that British band who all live together in a sex commune in Metz? They have, like, decided to devote their lives to sexual energy, which they say is the source of all energy, and do all these goddess rituals and shit, and the band is like an evangelising tool for their mission, and everyone gets groped, and stuff. Anyway, I was watching it, and I was wondering who in the hell could possibly live with these people? It would be like my own personal hell. I'd go nuts. I'd be all, like "Shut up! Just SHUT UP! Can we talk about something other than the bloody magnificence of womanhood please? And I DON'T CARE about the Celtic origins of this particular piece of flummery! NO, I DO NOT want to do a Pagan ritual right now, OKAY? Stop smugly fondling me! I can't even look at you without irritation. And a 69er is not a 'sexual energy feedback circuit'! Hey lady, masturbate in front of me all you want, but just don't tell me it made you feel connected to the Earth when you're done. No more theories about 'essence' and 'spirituality' and 'sexuality' today, okay? AND STOP PLAYING MUSIC. YOU SUCK!" You know what I mean? I would grind my teeth to the gums if I had to spend elongated periods of time there, man.

Elanor, did you sneakily add self-deprecating inverted commas to our little slogan on the right? It was self-deprecating enough man!

Aghhhh, going insane trying to write thesis, or, if truth be told, trying to start writing thesis. I have this sneaking suspicion that over the long months ahead, I won’t actually be seeking to improve my fundamentally flawed argument, but instead merely attempting to rationalise away its problems. If this is the case, the whole experience is nothing more than an internal rite of passage towards the acceptance of the crap thesis I will eventually submit. What is the point? If I was even vaguely able to learn from past failures, I would realise that I wasted the entirety of last semester having many random existential crises instead of doing work, which I eventually paid for trying to do all my coursework in about two weeks, triggering a minor nervous breakdown and a whole host of rash decisions I lived to regret. But early-twenties melancholy is actually quite a bit more fun (fun perhaps the wrong word) than doing work, so maybe I am on the right track after all.

Annoying things I read yesterday. (1) Ross Warneke's column in the Green Guide, which was remarkably similar in tone to an A Current Affair report. Odd. Is he always this much of a douche? I don't really read his stuff very often because it always seems to have lots of ratings figures in it, yawn, but if the column I am about to bash is anything to go by, this guy really sucks. He basically called for Channel 9 to abandon its filming of The Block because one of the contestants had been in jail. Now, bear in mind that I've been in Darwin for the last week so I'm a little rusty on all our southern social mores, but why on earth would that be a necessary step? The guy was in jail, he served his time and then served his probation time, and now he gets picked to renovate an apartment on TV, and apparently it is scandalously irresponsible of Channel 9, not to mention horribly damaging to its image, to let him get famous for renovating said apartment on TV. "What message is this sending to younger viewers?" and "shame on you Channel 9" and all that. Nuts, right? And you wanna know how Ross knows that Channel 9's reputation will be sullied if the show continues with this ex-con in the cast? He knows because he asked 3AW listeners to ring in and express their opinions about it, and they were all adamant that they would NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES be tuning in to The Block's celebration of criminality, no siree bob. Yet last year, Ross was scathing about listeners like these ones who expressed rage at the presence of Wazza and Gav on the first season of The Block. He thought they were ignorant bigots to say things like "What message is this sending to younger viewers?" and "shame on you Channel 9". But apparently, this year, hysterical judgment is sound. What a dick! And how on earth does 'the fact that Channel 9 knows this guy will get famous' mean that they should recast him immediately? I mean, he's gonna get famous for being on a reality TV show, not for being a former manufacturer of amphetamines. The kind of fame that The Block brings to its contestants has absolutely nothing to do with drugs. It has only to do with being on The Block. So how does this guy's presence on the show in any way glorify the drug trade to young kiddies as a route to success and fame and a flair for design? It just doesn't make sense. I mean, does Jamie Durie's presence as host of the show in any way glorify becoming a male stripper [which I understand is not criminal, but think of the kiddies will you?] as a way to get famous? And anyway, aren't ex-cons supposed to make attempts at redressing their wrongs by committing themselves to being positive members of society? I mean, sure, it is The Block, but this former jailbird could be doing worse things with his time, like stoking the wrath of 3AW listeners. Anyway, so I thought that was totally whack.

Speaking of stoking [the segue will happen eventually, just be patient and keenly observant], the other annoying thing I read today was (2) Nikki Gemmell's responses in that The Getting of Wisdom column in The Good Weekend. Now, most people come off badly in this column anyway, because it is structured as "What I Know About..." and then there's a series of words and people have to write what they know about them, you know, because they've learned from their experiences, and stuff. Complete wank. Anyway, I was primed on the crapness of Nikki Gemmell by Amy, who read her The Bride Stripped Bare and found herself infuriated by its utter blurgh. Having only read this column, I would also have to say that this Gemmell chick sucks ass. This was "what she knew about" desire: "the embers of romance can be stoked into flame again". What is she, a Mills & Boon writer? [Apologies to Mills & Boon writers everywhere.] And marriage: "It deepens everything. And sex is a thousand times better with someone you love". This woman is a cliche factory! And porn: "The prime object of sex is union, and yet pornography seems such a solitary, lonely pursuit. It strips sex of mystery, of reverence and transcendence. Porn is sex with no light on it". Oh, just shut up. You said 'transcendence', lady. What are you playing at? Do you even know what year it is? And what the hell does "Porn is sex with no light on it" mean anyway? And writing: "I advise young writers to write as if you're dying. It's a great motivator". Whaaaaa? She is actually giving advice to young writers! She has GOTTA be stopped! However, when I read her, I do feel like I am dying, and reading is a great primer for writing, yes? Anyway, yesterday those two things sucked.

Tell you what doesn't suck, though. Catch-22 by Joseph Heller. Seriously doesn't suck. Am totally loving it.

I think it's sacrilege to leave Elanor's rundown of the US Democratic nomination in the comments section, so here it is:
Okay, there are 8 people vying for the Democratic nomination, and at the moment, Howard Dean is the favourite, but Wesley Clark is firming as his main competitor, as Dean has no national security experience and Clark is all over that shit, apparently. Both continue to make gaffes, but both also continue to be the focus of media attention and speculation. Dean has more funds than any other nominee because of some internet-based grass roots donation thing, with people going wild for him because he opposed the war in Iraq. That means, that if he loses one of the primary races he is contesting, he'll still have cash left over to contest another one in another state, or something. Most other candidates won't have enough cash to fund numerous tilts at primary races. I'm not actually sure what primaries are, really, but the first thing that's going to happen is the Iowa Caucuses. Clark is not contesting the Iowa caucuses, and is instead placing all his hopes on a win in New Hampshire, which he hopes will give him enough momentum for later charges (also, he had a prior engagement to Iowa. He's been testifying against Slobodan Milosevic at the Hague). A lot of the poorer candidates are strategising likewise.

Anyway, in Iowa, people are saying it's a race between Dick Gephardt and Howard Dean, but it's a bit up in the air. Apparently, Iowans take this caucus thing very seriously and are very conscientious about choosing the right candidate based on policy ideas and electability. Some people think Dean has an electability problem (too liberal, ex-Governor of Vermont who signed that civil union thing into state law, ex-GP, no national security experience, etc). Some others are predicting a Dean backlash in light of his recent move to emphasise his electability by emphasising his religious beliefs. I myself like John Edwards and John Kerry, but they don't seem to have a chance in hell. Kerry was an early favourite, being a Vietnam Vet who returned from two tours of duty to become a principled anti-war figurehead. Very respected. Always gets hit with the 'aloof' and 'elite' and 'intellectual' (gasp!) tag because he likes to be precise and detailed about his statements. However, did a lifestyle piece about his Heinz heiress wife and his penchant for Harley Davidsons though, so, um, not sure about his chances now. Edwards is young and ethical and stuff. However, no coverage, see. Much respect, but no coverage. There's also Joe Leiberman, who's a bit too 'family values' and 'religion is the basis of morality' for my taste. Another one is Denis Kucinich, and I only know about him because David Letterman keeps making fun of his name and chances, though I also get the feeling that he is a decent guy. Too decent, seems to be the consensus.

The 'joke' candidates are Carol Moseley Braun (she's a woman!) and the Rev. Al Sharpton (he's black! He appeared in a Spike Lee film as himself; a black activist!), although Alec Baldwin made a fine point that these two, despite their 'laughable' status, would do a better job than Bush and his Administration. I have come to like Alec Baldwin. Good interview performer. Anyway, Dean overshadows everyone, EXCEPT for Wesley Clark. Clark came into the game late, and his ex-NATO commander stuff and his saving 1.5 million people in Kosovo or something made people go mental for him, too. He's got what Martin Amis refers to as 'retirement wisdom', although Amis was using the term in the 80s in reference to that guy who is the subject of that The Fog Of War documentary. Some believe that if Dean secures the nomination, Clark would be the perfect Vice-President for him, because he would fill up Dean's weak national security spot. Clark, however, stated flat out the other week on america's Meet The Press that if Dean won the nomination, he would not accept the Vice Presidency if the DNC offerred it to him. He's all 'I'm campaigning to be President' at the moment, but, you know, if it all plays out how they say it will, "Your country needs you" might win over "I said NEVER". He also gets grilled a lot about whether or not Hillary will be entering the race. Actually, now that the date for formalising your candidacy for this election has passed, now he gets asked if he would be prepared to VP for Hillary in 2008. I don't think he likes all this VP talk.

Anyway, Iowa happens soon, so I'm rooting for Edwards or Kerry or, well, pretty much anyone except Lieberman. They all seem like good sorts, really, I don't know why everyone keeps making fun of them as a group. Guy, I think I went overboard with this, and I doubt it will help anyone because it's all partial recollections of articles and Newshour and stuff. Oh, and the Madonna thing doesn't matter unless she gives a substantial donation or does massive fundraising stuff, which is what makes Babs a Democrat queen. I think Michael Moore is also stumping for Clark, but my brother says he's not as funny as Al Franken, so who knows what that means?

Welcome home Elanor. Regrets bout Dawson's. Anyway... found an interesting comment or two by Mel Gibson, on this very excellent blog, that reaffirms my prejudice that he's a tosser, and kinda crazy too. Here's a bit from the Playboy interview:

PLAYBOY: We take it that you're not particularly broad-minded when it comes to issues such as celibacy, abortion, birth control --
GIBSON: People always focus on stuff like that. Those aren't issues. Those are unquestionable. You don't even argue those points.
PLAYBOY: You don't?
GIBSON: No.
PLAYBOY: What about allowing women to be priests?
GIBSON: No.
PLAYBOY: Why not?
GIBSON: I'll get kicked around for saying it, but men and women are just different. They're not equal. The same way that you and I are not equal.
PLAYBOY: That's true. You have more money.
GIBSON: You might be more intelligent, or you might have a bigger dick. Whatever it is, nobody's equal. And men and women are not equal. I have tremendous respect for women. I love them. I don't know why they want to step down. Women in my family are the center of things. An good things emanate from them. The guys usually mess up.
PLAYBOY: That's quite a generalization.
GIBSON: Women are just different. Their sensibilities are different.
PLAYBOY: Any examples?
GIBSON: I had a female business partner once. Didn't work.
PLAYBOY: Why not?
GIBSON: She was a cunt.
PLAYBOY: And the feminists dare to put you down!
GIBSON: Feminists don't like me, and I don't like them. I don't get their point. I don't know why feminists have it out for me, but that's their problem, not mine.

Okay, I just returned from my trip to Darwin this morning, so, you know, blah blah, natural wonders of Kakadu, blah blah, tropical weather, blah blah, burnt and blistered and seeping skin, blah blah, all good holiday fun, yes? Or, was it THE worst and most damaging decision OF MY LIFE?! I'm in the middle of a mental breakdown at the moment, so I can't quite tell which. You see, Darwin does not get CHANNEL 10. I never thought much of this situation before, as why would I? Darwin not having Channel 10 could never effect me in any profound way, right? AAAAAAARRRRGGGHHH!!! Now, I have come to see that this pissy little dumbass regional TV anomaly is completely RIDICULOUS and WRONG and, in relation to me, A FATAL MISTAKE! I AM UNDONE! All I did was go to Darwin for 6 freakin days, and now, MY LIFE IS OVER! But, there might still be hope for me, right? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, somebody tell me that they taped the final three episodes of Dawson's Creek [which aired, in Melbourne, at 1.30pm on Channel 10 on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of this week]. PLEASE!!!! YOU GOTTA HELP ME! I did not watch [or tape] that frickin show every single damn day of this summer [until my disastrous departure to Darwin] just to be stiffed at the finish. C'mon people, I GOTTA see those episodes. I NEED closure. Dawson MUST die horribly so that everyone else on the show can develop into the cool people they have shown the potential to be whenever Dawson is NOT around. Or, there could be this showdown, where everyone tells Dawson what a dick he is and vow as a group never to speak to him again, unless it is to say "Shut up, dick!" And DON'T tell me that that's not how it ends, okay people? Just cough up the tape and let me see every missed moment of it for myself. Honestly though, I will be eternally grateful for any skerrick of footage. Without it, I will be sick with pain for the remainder of my [now hideously short] life. I have been forsaken most cruelly. My psyche is in grave danger. I cannot assimilate this loss. It is too much. Bloody goddamn Darwin! Bloody goddamn me! A pox on the both of us. I can't believe I witlessly abetted my own demise. Why didn't I THINK? Oh, this is a bitter end. PLEASE! CAN ANYBODY HELP ME!

P.S.Never leaving my house again!

Horrible memories of that ghastly Mystic River have been fully erased by the brilliant Goodbye Lenin. Fantastic. Funny, moving, smart, and it never sinks into mawkishness or Weekend at Bernie's style farce. Ahhh. Good film afterglow.

Sunrise, e.g. Brekkie Central, is in holiday mode and, in the tradition of all summer editions, the crapness is rising. Oooooh lets put all our newsreaders in boxer shorts! That'll be a fun start to the day! Oooooh lets make lots of pseudo-sexist comments 'cause it makes us seem down to earth and non-PC and gets us the ratings! Ooooh why don't we get our newsreader to impersonate one of Saddam's advisors while we do a story bout him. What's integrity ever got us? And everyone hates Iraq, right? Excuse my sarcasm, but vomit! Anyway, the point I was gonna make is that it really irks me when shows that use a male-female presenting combo (in which the male leads) replace the man over summer... and give the male replacement the dominant role, rather than the woman who is technically more senior and should lead. Sunrise has replaced "Koshy" with some random dude who has assumed Koshy's wanker personality and arrogance. Poor Natalie (sorry, Nat) has to sit there and play second fiddle to this random purely because he's a guy. In a just world, HE would be the one laughing at lame jokes and saying stuff like "I don't have a clue how cars work...". Especially when poor Nat has suffered so much already. Ooh, man it would be cool if, just for a day, Nat was replaced with someone like Maxine McKew. Yeah! She would take NO shit, and eat em all for... brekkie. Sorry.

Madonna has done what she failed to do with her lame-arsed American Life video retraction, and aligned herself politically. In a letter on her website, she’s come out in support of Wesley Clark, and criticised the Bush administration: "Our greatest risk is not terrorism and it's not Iraq or the "Axis of Evil." Our greatest risk is a lack of leadership, a lack of honesty and a complete lack of consciousness. Unfortunately our current government cannot see the big picture. They think too small. They suffer from the "what's in it for me?" syndrome. The simple truth is that the current administration has squandered incredible opportunities to bring the world together, to promote peace in regions that have only known war, to encourage health in places that are ravaged with disease, to make us more secure by living up to our principles at home and abroad. The simple truth is that the policies of our current administration do not reflect what is great about America. Calling Clark an example of the “American Dream”, and an American hero, she says she’ll be actively campaigning for him up to and during the next election. Thoughts? Actually, Elanor, you'll know about this... where does Clark stand among the Democrat hopefuls? More to the point, does anyone care about a Madonna endorsement these days... is Madge becoming the next Barbra Streisand e.g. Democrat Princess sitting atop waning career.

Before becoming Peaches, Peaches was a schoolteacher... fantastic!

Has the world gone mad? Mystic River, the Clint Eastwood directed murder/mystery starring 80s actors who made it through the lean years (Kevin Bacon, Sean Penn, Tim Robbins) has been racking up all kinds of critical acclaim: 5 star reviews, lots of nominations etc. etc. Yet, after seeing it last night I can objectively confirm that it was a piece of utter, utter shit. So shit that its shitness is beyond a matter of opinion - it just was. Shit dialogue, plot, direction. Over-acting all round. Misguided forays into psychologising ("in a way I feel like we all died that day, the day they took Dave away"), totally obvious plot twists and hitting-head-with-brick symbolism. Three quarters of the way in we were like: "is this parody? Please let it be parody...". Can someone tell my why this film is critically acclaimed? Am I missing something? If anyone has had a positive experience with this film, please let me know.

In more positive news, I have Peaches tickets (props to Marty!), and just bought This is Not a Test! which is looking very, very good.

Kylie Minogue seems about to substantially damage her reputation by releasing her cynical US-aimed Red Blooded Woman as single no.2 from her decadent Body Language. With its late 90s Destiny’s Child meets eurotrash production, and cod sexy lyrics, it is HILARIOUS, and tragic, all at the same time. To get across the absurdity of the whole thing, I’ve typed in the lyrics below, and have taken the liberty of putting the lines that particularly suck in bold. Things that really suck are in bold and italics. Keep in mind that this is a 35 year old woman singing with an anglo-Australian accent…

Can't stop, Count backwards 5 4 3 2 1,
Before you get too heated and turned on (This guy),
You should have learned your lessons all them times before,
You've been bruised, you've been broken,
Then there's my mind saying think before you go,
Through that door it could lead you nowhere (This guy),
Has got you all romantic, crazy in your head,
Do you think I'd listen, no I don't care,
‘Cause I can't focus I can't stop, You got me spinning round,
round, round, round (Like a record),
I can't focus it's too hot (Inside), You'll never get to Heaven
if you're scared of getting high, (Boy, boy),
Let me keep freaking around, I wanna get down,
I'm a red blooded woman, what's the point in hanging round,
Don't wanna keep turning it down, When this girl wants to rock with you,
My conscience saying, get down off this dream, It's too dangerous and deadly,
Has got you talking round in circles can't you see,
All for the sake of sexy (You're loving it),
Then there's my sense saying stop before you fall,
I don't wanna pick you up again,
Has got you all romantic, crazier each day, Do you think I'd listen,
There's no way.

Speaking of summer, I just got back from a night by the sea at Shoreham. At least, you could hear the sea. Man, that place is changing. From beachside outpost to new yuppie paradise, all in about three years. I, obviously, am part of this transformation, but I like to think I’m a little subtle about it. First sign of transformation: lots of BMW X5s (possibly the wankiest, thrustiest car around) with P-plates driving round with shaggy beach-types inside. Second sign: the general store now has an outdoor “café-style” seating area tacked on to the front, right next to the 1960s style petrol pump. The place is obviously aware of the presence of city-types, as the store has a huge sign out front advertising “old fashioned friendly service”. The fact they feel they can advertise this means alleged old fashioned service obviously doesn’t exist, something that has been confirmed to me on numerous occasions as they serve me with barely concealed contempt. The level of scorn was so high that as I walked home I was having visions of waking up at night to find the house surrounded by townsfolk in capes, carrying burning torches and demanding that I go back to the ‘burbs. Maybe that’s why I found a doll’s torso by the fence, with its head and arms in my garbage bin. Definately a sign of devil-worship cult-like activities taking place, probably being performed by otherwise straight-laced, middle-class, respectable citizens.

Ignoring Elanor's wish-list for the perfect blog I plan to take Symposiasts thoroughly down-market in her absence. For the next week or so, it will be known as Symposiasts: Summer Edition, and in the tradition of summer editions, standards of content, editing and effort are expected to fall considerably. Space will perhaps be filled with vapid opinion pieces about shopping, weekends away, coffee accessories and such. Or perhaps the Bush twins. They just had a bit of a "write-up" in the papers this morning (it is still summer), and they totally seem like the Hilton sisters of the next generation, with added presidential gravitas. Countless drink-driving charges! Using the secret service as party limo to P-Diddy booze-ups! Slouching at their daddy's inauguration! Speaking of the Hilton sisters, there were a few things I left off my half-arsed G List 2003 roundup: their visit to Australia should have firmly been in the "Good" column, and Jewel's misguided new album and image should have been slotted in under "Bad". I said it then and I'll say it now: what was she thinking? She's like the Body Shop of pop: tries to save the world, but in the end it's all about lip gloss.

I'm off to Darwin for about a week to visit my sister. So Guy, dearest, you on duty, and the thesis can go to heck. Now, don't get anxious or anything. It's just that you are the only thing standing between this blog and its death. No pressure, okay? I've just got a few teeny weasley inconsequential little shameful jobs for you to do while I'm gone;
1. Make this blog brilliant and witty and stuff.
2. Write the essential blog piece of our times, so that Symposiasts will become the thing that all of blogworld is talking about.
3. In this way, make us blog celebrities.
4. Use new found fame to tastefully, and with dignity and integrity intact, get us nominated for The Bloggies [or just fill out the nomination form yourself]. I don't care that there's only a $20 prize [it's a US$20!], I wanna win, damnit!
Now, I don't wanna get crazy here. I understand that we are just a piddling little outfit. However, since there are heaps of categories for which we could be nominated [should the people oblige], I'm gonna need you to understand that failure is not an option. You've gotta bag at least one of these puppies for me [I mean, for us]. I have humbly decided that we are deserving victors in the following categories [again, should the people oblige];
best australian or new zealand weblog
best tagline of a weblog
best topical weblog
most humourous weblog [see how I joke?]
best-kept-secret weblog
best new weblog
and of course, the big daddy weblog of the year
I have been tossing up whether or not to make a play for best american weblog because of the tendency of our content to concern itself with that country, but I guess it's up to the public to decide whether or not to nominate us for it. Yeah yeah, it's all about the people. Nothing to do with me... Just get it done. NOW!

I just got a new phone. It's so beautiful. I can't help sneaking a glance at it now and then just to bask in its good looks. It makes me want to improve myself - buy new clothes, exercise, be a nicer person - just so I can match it. It seems so together, it's inspiring.

Love Actually was a smug little stinker. Vomit! The scary thing was that near the end I was on the verge of being moved, as its slow process of breaking down resistance took effect. On the flip side, Emma Thompson was awesome, but her story seemed to get forgotten amongst all the paper-thin romance. You should have been more explicit in your warnings Elanor! The frightening thing was that when they showed that snippet of Titanic a tear automatically came to my eye... Jack! Rose! Jack!

Have just started reading Martin Amis' collection of reviews and essays entitled The War Against Cliche and it is frickin exceptional. I am highly recommending it to anyone who feels like reading something. And even though it's completely smart and cool, and intelligently treats a variety of subject matter over about a 30 year period, it's still not heavy-going or anything because it's a collection of magazine pieces and stuff, so it's like reading a 490-page magazine but coming out smarter at the end of it. Yay. I love it when things are easy and enjoyable and thrilling. Oh yeah, and improve the mind too. Maybe. But golly this Amis boy can write and he makes the most perfect comments about stuff. I am completely within his thrall and treat everything he says with credulity. Another recommended thing is to go to the Astor, even though we all know that already. Anyway, saw a double bill of City of the Lost Children and Delicatessan there last night. Seriously cool.

I don't often listen to the radio, but I was just having a shower and I had the most happy-making radio experience in recent memory. I'm not flaunting the fact that I shower at you or anything. It's just a requisite piece of information for the whole 'listening to the radio' scenario to take place. You see, when I have a shower, the fog of the hot water makes any CDs skip in my stupid stereo, so I have in recent times taken a chance on Triple J, in lieu of any other [I had supposed] options. And that was fine and all, but it's gone bad over the break. So, taking a chance, today I moved the dial. Who knew that nudging the thing only a smidge backwards on the FM band could entrain such immense and unparalleled joy? My favourite song from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Black Tongue, was playing [and let me tell you, that's a hard race to win], which was something I had never experienced before. Anyway, so I thought, "Cool, I'll stick with this station, even though this good judgment can't possibly be sustained and utter crap will undoubtedly follow". Man, I am so wrong sooo much of the time, I should have really learned by now. Because the very next song was my favourite song from The Hells, He's The Devil [But I Love Him So]. It was a glorious moment. Yay, boogying in the shower! The glory palled later when the hosts changed over and I was met with that same annoying girl-tone employed by all the Triple J girl hosts, but still, whatever this station is, I'm sticking with it. I know I'm going nuts over two good songs being played consecutively, but still, I am counting this as an enriching discovery, made all the more sweet because it only happened due to a bored whim. And, as bored whims are pretty much the only things that lead me to action [if this blog can be called action. It was also born out of a bored whim, though not mine], I like to jump all over any speck of proof that they can lead me to good things.

Hey, having watched the Steve Irwin footage a few times, would anybody actually characterise what he is doing as baby dangling per se? I mean, I thought it was more like clutching, followed by some trotting. What's wrong with those words? They're apropos enough, right? However, I do see that there's definitely a baby present, and a piece of dead chicken dangling, during a crocodile feeding stunt, so I guess it's pretty accurate to average it all out as a "baby dangling stunt". Check, check, and check. I don't know though. It just seems like there's some deliberate referencing going on here which, as luck would have it, manages to cue repeat screenings of Michael Jackson's time in Berlin. Huh. Moving on now. So hey, I'm just curious, but is the whole fingerprinting and photographing foreign travellers arriving in the US thing really fucked up, or not? I mean, are fingerprints not such a big deal after all? It doesn't appear that they are now, but still, I've got a niggling feeling happening anyway. Is that just old hat? Because, like, in The Crucible even your name was a big deal, but those pilgrim types were totally dramatic about shit like that. Calm down Daniel. And brush your teeth, man. Anyway, yes or no?

P.S. Oh, and apologies for using the words per se and apropos, but I was in the mood to test your love.

ATTENTION! Everyone has gotta watch Wife Swap. Ohmygod.

OK, time for some real reporting. According to ET online, Britney and Jason Allan Alexander wed at the “Little White Wedding Chapel” on the strip. By the afternoon they were seeking an annulment. Spears’ publicist suggested that the couple had taken a “joke too far”. Seems like meltdown material to me.

I’m hesitant to offer an opinion on Dogville as I’m never sure whether films truly stink, or whether I’m not evolved enough to “get” them. But I know a good film when I see one – this Dogville was not. It didn’t stink either. Instead it just pretentiously plodded along making its grand points about the human condition blah blah. For the first half I was quite OK with this because I had somehow got it into my head that it was ending at chapter six. When I discovered another THREE chapters were to come, man, that was bad.

But how do I back up my gut dislike? Certainly not with a coherent argument. Instead I’ll offer up a few things that got me goin “ewwww”. Firstly, the creative design (is that the term) of the whole thing kinda shat me. I’m assuming here that Lars was aiming for some kind of theatrical honesty. A raw, barely mediated cinema experience. Just us, the actors and the camera. But really, the whole thing was incredibly complex – brilliant lighting, wonderful camera-angles and subtle special effects (all very expensive). It wasn’t “honest” at all. It looked awesome, but I don’t see how showing a chalk outline of a building has any more artistic merit than showing a building. It’s just more affected.

After seeing Lars gradually break down Bjork (and countless others I’m told), the slow process of reducing Nicole to a corpse-like lump seemed all too familiar. I found it quite upsetting that the rape scenes were by the end so blasé, although I take Elanor’s point about the processes of desensitization that go along with any kind of violence. Maybe my point is more that I found it irksome that violent rape became something mostly symbolic; a symbolism laid on thick with all the references to “apples from the tree” with “juices flowing” etc. Sexual violence in film should never represent anything but sexual violence! Listen to me all you pretentious directors into reckless symbolism!

I really don’t know what else to say. Surely my strong dislike was based on more than two flimsly points… Luckily I can’t follow this through because it has now reached my self-imposed deadline to start my thesis, but I will say one more thing. Elanor, my theory that James Caan was sposed to represent God TOTALLY has merit.

Whaaaaaaaa!? Britney got married in Vegas?

Okay, so I just saw Dogville and I am a little wary of commenting on it. But more on that later. For the moment, I’m just going to deal with my reaction to the film as it screened. So, just as the film was beginning, I was struck by the cold fear that I was entering a ‘pretension overload’ zone. However, I managed to get quite into it on a “I hate this town” and a “Leave Nicole alone, you jerks” basis, because my avid rage is a sucker for that whole “Blind Cruelty of the Powerful to the Powerless” thing, which is my fancy title for the whole “mob turns on the ‘weak’ and ignores its own behaviour and divests itself of any shame by locating the victim as the origin and bearer of all the incurred shame” thing. You dumbass mean jerks! I found the ending quite commensurate to the film. However, having just watched Apocalyspe Now yesterday, I was ready to crack up if they went anywhere near that whole Conrad “the horror, the horror” thing. I also liked that bit with James Caan when they’re debating Grace’s whole forgiveness thing and he says that she is not harsh on others for doing things for which she would judge herself harshly were she to do them. I felt ‘found out’ by that. And then I felt quite queasy because, well, how high school is that whole it’s speaking directly to my soul thing anyway? But then I remembered that I actually let myself off easy all the time, which nixed that whole found out and directly to my soul business. Hee hee. I finally used the word “nixed”. Mmmm, sophisticated. You see, I’m way beyond high school now. I’ve moved on to being dismissed as “undergraduate”. Anyway, so I sat through the film without much ‘critical’ consternation. I simply thought it a mean film, but quite good if you could embrace its aesthetic and ignore its ambition. But now, as time elapses, my feelings are growing progressively more negative and dismissive about it as an enterprise as a whole. Hence the wary. So now I am thinking, “what is prompting this reconsideration?” Mmmm. I think that it’s down simply to my reflecting on the film and re-evaluating it upon review, all while using independent thought. But I might be wrong. You can’t just take my word for it. There might be other factors influencing me. To be fair, there probably are. So now, in opposition to Dogville’s [I think] assertion of that whole ‘essential humanity irrespective of environmental factors’ thing, I will, in the interests of frankness, describe for you the post-movie environment I encountered so that you might be better able to discern from the totality of my film-going experience the answer to my whole “what is prompting this reconsideration” question, and thereby get a better read on the credibility of my eventual judgment of Dogville. So, the following are some of the post-film comments made by those with whom I saw it.

From Erin; “Aaaarrggh! Revolting and stupid!”, and “I want to go up there and burn the reel!”, and “Yeah, totally too thin. She looked like two sets of legs, with one set on top of the other”. From Leah; “Chapter details were a bit too cute. Narration was way too much. And the premise of Dogville as ‘a microcosm of essential humanity’, and the use of the town’s layout as a way of underscoring that flimsy point, is quite [personally/intellectually] offensive. You really can’t make a strong statement about ‘human nature’ if you assert that mythic ‘universal’ argument and ignore the effects of socio-economics and culture and the fact that people’s behaviour is arrived at in situe”. [I think, in this case, that those two are firmly in the David Stratton camp, viewing Lars von Trier as a “charlatan” who dresses up his films to fool and bamboozle “educated” viewers into liking them and thinking them rather smart] From Guy; “Um, was James Caan meant to be God?”, and, “Lauren Bacall is amazing”, followed by, “Hey! Lauren Bacall is a living legend, Elanor!”, even though, like, dude, she’s barely in the film, and she was in need of pore-refining cream, arright? And apologies to Marty for not having any quotable quotes. [Tsk tsk. If you will have other friends…]

So, these were strong opinions. Vehement dislike was expressed. So, I had to wonder, “what was up with that?” Thus, whereas before I hadn’t really considered forming much of a response to the film, these statements tipped me off that there might be more to look into about it. So I must own them as influential. They got me thinking.

And now, the thoughts. That whole ‘town stripped bare’ layout was problematic [you see? Sooo undergrad]. It was visually interesting, and I don’t think that it actually acted to erase the socio-economic aspect of the locality, but I think we can still put it down to mere trickery. It screamed “this should trigger thoughts about ‘getting down to the essentials’ which should lead you to think that ‘thematically’ this film concerns itself with bare and direct living”. It was also a cynical play for cred, because of that whole theatre-film high-low art opposition thing. You know, the subtle “Hey guys! It’s like a play!” was a mindset groomer [or ‘head-fuck’] which fed into “See how spare the set dressings are? Look how much you won’t be distracted from the performances and character interactions [a self-defeating argument, yes?] Look!” To which we chumps respond, “Oh look! Those actors who aren’t even in this scene are still performing their characters in the background! Wow! We go batshit over stuff like that!” Give me a break. But most heinous of all, the set provided far too much scope for mime. Unforgiveable. And I am cringing just at the thought of what the actors might be saying now about 'the process' and about it being so rare and cool to have so much rehearsal time, as in a play etc. Eeeww. I do, however, think that the film got the ‘precariousness of being indebted’ thing right. I could go with the whole ‘people get affronted and start the ingrate bashing, which then mutates into a license to get mean’ thing. What I now can’t go with, though, is what we’re supposed to accept as an inevitable symptom of the turn to meanness. Remarkably, until I actually thought about it, I didn’t realise how shitty all the raping was. You see, I had prior knowledge of the raping before going into the film, so I didn’t really think about it at all, but rather just waited for it to happen. However, now I’m like, “Hey yeah! What is with that old chestnut about males in their basest form being like, sexual aggressors, and shit?” All I’m saying is that rape is not necessarily the last logical step for guys who think that they are owed something from a girl who is poorly treated by everyone around her, and it’s kinda crappy to claim that actually, universally, it is. But I did think that the specific act of chaining her to a heavy object to prevent escape, and attaching a bell to her throat manacle so that her movement could be tracked, and then being able to view her with equanimity and a sense of 'right' as she struggled about, spoke quite powerfully of the extent to which the townsfolk had forgotten themselves and the gaze of others. Hmmmm. What else? Ah yes, it didn’t seem to go deep. Actually, it did seem to go deep, but that was the trickery talking. It didn’t hit you deep is what I mean. It triggered baleful glaring at certain characters in certain moments, but that doesn't count as profundity. But now I’m rethinking this again. Maybe that whole stylised thing without much profundity was good. Because, I did like how she just shut down as her ordeal progressed. I thought that loss of feeling quite true. So, why would anything really have to hit you, if the movie is working on the whole ‘banal brutal and short’ [I’m paraphrasing] mundanity and lack of profundity as its take on human life? Actually, now I’m thinking that if you consider the film within the frame of its constructions, it works. I said the ending was commensurate, didn’t I? Maybe it’s only when you remove the thing from it’s own universe that it shits, offends, annoys and affronts. But you can remove it if you wanna. There is definitely scope to take issue with the premise. And, taking issue with that tends to undo the whole film. Maybe I’ll do that later tonight, and then be all flipped back by tomorrow morning. Hmmmm. Don’t really know what to say, actually.

Oh dear. Poor Posh. She is going to get absolutely slammed for her appearance on the World Idol results show. She left herself so open to pot-shots. What was she thinking entering an environment where everyone is in the habit of critically evaluating the live perfomances of amateurs, and lip-synching? And why oh why would she air a new single of hers on a show that has popularised the phrase 'poor song choice'? She's dead.

Last night, I was trying to think of what the word of 2003 was, but I didn't hit upon it until this afternoon, so I suppose it can't count as part of my end-of-year round-up [which, as you know, was completed on December 31st, 2003]. Anyway, you wanna hear it? Okay. I decided that this one was the winner because it originated as a reality TV term but has somehow become acceptable in general conversation without raising many eyebrows. I also say that whole "without raising many eyebrows" thing because you may wish to dispute my choice on the basis of "never heard of it", but before you do, I say "hark", dear fellows. You just haven't been paying attention. Anyway, the word is "reveal". Okay, maybe it's actually "the reveal", which might more accuarately make it a term. It also often gets embellished as "the big reveal". You know, people say stuff like, "But I guess we'll find that out in the big reveal". You get me? Anyway, I'm solid on this one. I consider 2003 to be the year of "the reveal".

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No blogging for a while, but my planned summer of productivity is slowly morphing into a summer of lying on my bed in boxers listening to The Smiths, as it always does. Now that the house is free of Christmas family members, I can return to this natural state. I think I’m finally over Christmas, which is quite sad. Keep in mind that in my house Santa was delivering the goods until I was 18. Anyway, I was gonna draw up a G List for 2003, but I can’t remember if stuff was released this year or last year, and everything I’ve been listening to this year was released last year, so the whole exercise seems quite pointless really. I can't even remember what movies I've seen. I know I hated The Pianist but that's about it. Here, then, is a siplified list, broken into broad categories of good end evil:

Good
Marcia Hines
Sugababes - Hole in the Head
Christina Aguilera
Radar magazine
Lord of the Rings
Kylie Minogue - Slow
Coldplay
Charlie's Angels - Full Throttle
Finding Nemo
Beyonce
Peaches (thanks Amy)
Chicks on Speed (thanks Amy)
Emmylou Harris - Stumble into Grace
The Bachelor

Bad
The Pianist
Adrien Brody (and dog)
Ben Affleck
Kylie's taste
Rise Up - The Final 12
Lenny Kravitz (bad for Nicole)
The Matrix 2 & 3 (although I haven't seen them)
The Sunrise "team"
Kylie Minogue - Body Language
Pointless TV presenters eg Toni Pieren and Antonia Kidman
Britney
Madonna (although I didn't mind American Life)
Limp Bizkit - Behind Blue Eyes
Ian Thorpe's underwear range
Mel Gibson's The Passion (in anticipation)

On Boxing Day I went to see The Return of the King in Bendigo with my cousins and family. I had gone into it expecting it to be the best film ever, but it isn't. It's good though, and quite a feat when you think about how wrong the whole adaptation could have gone in a different time and in different hands without such a great commitment to the enterprise and the detail and the characters and stuff. Still, all during the screening I kept being assaulted by bad smells. The audience's bowels were percolating post-Christmas dinner/grog, or something. Phew. And the end was quite protracted, which is in itself true to the book, but you're like, "go away Frodo". It was very much like the book actually, and I kept thinking, "oh, I've seen this before", but only because it followed the story of the book quite correctly, which isn't a bad thing. Gollum was adorable as always, and I think he should get more credit than he is given for saving the world from darkness. Frodo wouldn't have got far without him, either. And Aragorn was so lovely [swoon] if a bit too clean by the end. And it was cool to see that Brett guy from the great NZ comedy duo, Flight of the Conchords [who were a highlight of the Melbourne Comedy Festival earlier this year], in a tiny one-line speaking role, all dolled up as an elf. God that guy is a genius. I'm pretty sure it was him. Man, I can't wait for the Comedy Festival to roll around. I think it should happen twice a year, at a minimum, though. That would be seriously sweet. So, thumbs up to the the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. You can't really be disappointed or critical about it when so much work went into it. And it is of a much higher quality than most other epic films. So, yeah. Good on it. And that Aragorn sure is a keeper. He just needs someone to rub some dirt into his hair. Mmmmm.

I don't know if anyone else read the 'scathing' critique delivered about Nip/Tuck in the most recent Green Guide, but I just did and it really shat me. The guy who wrote it, John C. Murray, showed himself up as an utter twat. He obviously doesn't like the show, which shows poor TV spirit but is allowable. However, what cannot be ingested without consternation is his belief that he has good and objectively principled reasons for disliking the show. I'm here to tell you; he so doesn't. Murray's article rehashes Nip/Tuck plot points, as if, by simply repeating the show's narratives its underlying ludicrousness will out. I will employ much the same tactic here. Because this fellow's gotta go down, and I really think his own words'll do it for him. You see, I love this freakin show. It's good. It packs some great thrills and some character-allegiance wars you can really get stuck into [I personally think other characters take their shit out on Julian McMahon's character way too much. Lay off him!]. Anyway, diss Nip/Tuck will you? Oh, baby, it is on!

While making it clear that he is not worried by the "bloody detail" of the surgical procedures shown on the show [you see, he's no kneejerk wowser], he is still "disturbed when they are displayed free of any justifying dramatic context". Apart from that gripe being a cliché, um, duuude! They are plastic surgeons! They perform plastic surgery! Hello context! He also thought the whole 'Matt walking in on his girlfriend with her girlfriend' story line was a silly and peurile male fantasy [porn industry staple] which signalled that the show was entering "the realm of utter farce". And you wanna know his reason for thinking this? It was because, "true to tawdry tradition, Vanessa and Ridley [the lesbians] are, for some reason [my italics], wearing skimpy cheerleading outfits". Er, John, that's because they're like, cheerleaders! So there! It was a dramatically consistent scene, mister, so let's just enjoy it, eh? But what annoyed me most about the article was that he wasn't prepared to give the show anything. He says, and I quote, "and why, we might ask, is a series that seeks to reveal and condemn the American obsession with good looks populated by a cast of such good-looking people?" Oh fuck off mate. Seriously. Am I supposed to say touché here? Cos I ain't gonna. Firstly, it's television, so good-looking people abound anyway, and you're a bit of a shit to beat the show down by holding it to a different standard than other entertainment pieces. Soooo not touché. Secondly, I don't think the show professes to be so clunkily preachy that it seeks to "reveal and condemn" anything. I mean, we are free to read this condemnation in the show if we so wish, and there have been some storylines which could support that case. But to go so far as to call it an aim. I don't know, you might be reaching there. Either way, you're a dick because you seek to back up this point by saying "even the grossly overweight Nanette Babcock has pretty features". Whoah... Whoah! There is just so much that's wrong with that! Which is fine by me, because you completely lose all the collateral you've tried to establish about not being a pig. Hah! But I don't care anymore. It's actually a waste of time writing about how much of a git he is [but this is a blog, and you're reading it, so you've got time and I won't spare you] when he actually reveals it himself at the end by talking about the 'real women' in the 'real drama' shows that he prefers to watch over the likes of Nip/Tuck and its "sex-drenched phoniness". [Yay, sex-drenched phoniness!] You see, after watching Nip/Tuck, he's gonna "turn in relief" to the likes of Tyne Daly from Judging Amy because "these women have lived-in faces, the mature countenances of interesting people leading solid, multi-dimensional, dramatic lives". Oh John C. Murray, I shudder in your general direction. But, whatever. The problem is, these multi-dimensional women you speak of also happen to be in shit shows. Judging Amy really is insufferable, especially Tyne Daly. Trounced!

So, John C. Murray, you're a dick, okay? Alright, maybe not, but you pissed me off. Nip/Tuck rules! Just go with it, okay? There's room for frothy fun. Spirit in which it is intended and all that. Anyway, it is so not the right show to fight your battles over, man. You just can't argue 'seriously' about Nip/Tuck without pratting yourself. I mean, I have probably pratted myself arguing about it here. But I am okay with that.

Christmas for me just provides an excuse for an end of year familial get together, which is fine and what not. I had never really thought too much on it previously, but I have now become relieved that Christmas means no more to me than that. Had I any serious belief or mood investment in the specialness of Christmas or any such crap, I would probably be a raving loon by now because of all the travesties visited upon us all in its name. I am a raving loon anyhow. Travesties just shit me. So, Christmas is completely fucking annoying, people. You see, for some reason, the "spirit of the season" brings a whole different set of rules into play concerning what is and what is not appropriate behaviour. The ground shifts, but not in a good way. Normal people can't do normal things without being berated about not being sufficiently "in the spirit", while crappy people can do extra crappy things, and, if the crap they do is linked in some indirect way to Christmas, they won't be called on it. For example, there's this weird guy at work who is always saying "God bless you" to the people leaving the restaurant, which makes everyone blanch and look at him a little askew. But for the last week, he's paired it with a "Merry Christmas", and somehow that makes it all doo-lally. Grrrrrr. And, stupid me, I just kept on saying "Have a good night" to the customers, because that is normal and unfreaky and all, but then my boss would immediately say "Merry Christmas" over my shoulder in an effort to compensate for my lack of holiday-appropriate farewell. Apparently, I was the one being weird. Why? Why? Why? So Christmas means the freaks rule, and for no great reason. It shits me.

Anyway, my thusly developed new feeling that the whole "being Christmas expressive" was a wanky exercise, ripe for abuse by charlatans and freaks, solidified earlier today. I caught this mid-afternoon newsbreak on Channel Seven and found it to be quite an horrid and odd and somehow offensive thing. Here are three of the news items that were considered urgent enough to get disseminated in a two-minute synopsis of the important news of the day; 1] "A helping hand from the Salvos and Seven News for battling single dad of three, Rob Allan, whose house was destroyed by fire", 2] "new Seven recruit Molly Meldrum gives his support to Melbourne's homeless", 3] "and Jennifer Keyte grants a little girl her longtime Christmas wish". Are they bonkers? For some reason, the fact of the date being Christmas Eve gave Channel Seven license to include blatant network promotion alongside its news delivery. I mean, that's pretty shitty right? And, usually, we could all agree on it, right? But now, because it is Christmas, somehow pulling that kind of shit is okay. In other crimes against humanity, [aside from Christmas t-shirts and earrings] people feel themselves terribly witty and completely within their rights if they refer to me, or to anyone else for that matter, as "the Grinch". Hilarious. Inspired. Meanwhile, I am an asshole because of piddly little things, like failing to incorporate a new phrase into my greeting repertoire, or being dismissive of the worth [aside from profit-making] of Christmas albums, or not wrapping my gifts months in advance, or not hysterically anticipating waking up on the morning of the actual day to see what 'Santa' has brought. Apparently, I deserve people's pity because I have 'lost' some of that youthful 'innocence' and 'exuberance' which is so keenly interwoven with Christmas. Somehow it's me whose not "in the spirit", whatever the hell that means. But Channel Seven is? You people are crazy. Leave me alone. I'm all humourless, and it's all Christmas' fault.

P.S. However, Channel Seven is not all bad. It does deserve great kudos for theming its summer programming as "brand spankin new", which, brilliantly, allows logo-positioning spots to remain theme-relevant and non-gratuitous even when featuring nothing more than close-ups of bather-swathed bums. Excellent.

Today is a day I look forward to every year. The Oprah's Favourite Things episode aired and it's a highlight of the year. I can't tell you how compelling hysteria is to watch. And this year, they brought it up a notch. There was profuse screaming and crying and hugging and god-praising dancing fits with arms raised to heaven. They were a seriously whacked out mob. Crazy. But the funniest moment came at the beginning, after Oprah lit the fire for hysterical gratitude under everyone's arses by saying "Are y'all the kind of people who have never won anything in your life? [audience screams] Well, this is your lucky day!" [audience screams] Then the Christmas set got rolled in by poor schmucks dressed as elves and people were losing their minds and Oprah's fraternising and grab-handing with the crowd, and then she pulls out a gasping and crying middle-aged woman who is like jelly in her arms, and ably directs her to the centre stage where she asks her "So, you were just telling me that you've never won anything in your life?" [audience screams] And the woman sobs, "Not a thang. Not a thang. Oh, thank you so much" [audience screams] and then she crumples into inarticulacy on Oprah's Ralph Lauren cashmere cable-knit sweater [which y'all will get to take home!] and it looks very unlikely that this woman will recover anytime soon. So, here's the funny. Oprah gees this woman up - "This is going to be a great day for you! [repeat last words of sentence, emphatically Oprah-style] For you!" - and drags her out purposefully to capture an emotional and grateful clip moment [audience screams] but then, when the moment is over for her, and the purpose of it has been fulfilled [though definitely not for the woman, who is still garbling something about how much she loves Oprah and some annoying details about the impact Oprah's had on her paltry little life, or something], it's done, and Oprah immediately switches toward the crowd and begins reading the autocue - "It's my Favourite Things episode" - because she's a consummate professional and the show must go on. But, because the woman is still hanging around, what Oprah actually says is "It's my [switch to stern warning tones] Go back to your seat! [unswitch] Favourite Things episode!" [audience screams] My god that show is prime.

For your consideration, I proffer Lost In Translation, which I enjoyed. It's Tokyo, it's two cool people who are bored, it's the fun that can be had in an uncomfortable place if you find a kindred spirit to be perplexed with. Aaaaah. Quizzical looks need to be shared. And if loving Bill Murray is wrong, I don't wanna be right. Speaking of love, had thought I was over the whole Viggo/Aragorn thing [in favour of a straight Aragorn thing], but had thought wrong. If a picture of Mr Mortensen pops up somewhere that I am not expecting, I almost gasp from the jolt of it. I spent $16.50 on an air-freight copy of Vanity Fair magazine with him on the cover. I felt obliged to buy it after doing that whole internal leap thing at the sight of it and then realising that my hand had already, and without a conscious directive, gone halfway towards caressing it. I rationalised the purchase anyway, what with there being important articles on Gitmo and the CIA operative that the Bush administration venally unmasked also contained therein. Excellent delusion, or not so much? Will anyone believe it? The cashier guy sure didn't. I could tell. Damn smirker. Listen buddy. I don't care what you're thinking. You don't know me. And anyway, this is perfectly reasonable behaviour. There is no shame. I was worried that reading it would leave me irrevocably disappointed, being so blindly invested in the glory without ever actually having been privy to Viggo as an interview subject, and all. But I needn't have paid any mind to any and all of the various traumas which led to my possession and consumption of this article. Viggo hovers ever so precariously over the 'pretentious wanker' line, but, to my mind at least, he manages to avoid any unforgiveable fits of horrid crapping by virtue of his apparently genuine honesty and relaxed non-arrogance, and, most especially, his swoon-worthy voice [I mentally added the sound of his voice when I was reading his spoken bits]. Swoon. In other 'news', Michael Jackson threw a garden party on the weekend. People are being interviewed about this. I never thought garden parties could warrant such extensive reporting.

I am in the process of catching up by watching the tapes of my TV shows from the last three days [I've been distracted] and I just came across something sick. It's the NBC Today show from Monday - you know, the day after the capture of Saddam. Anyway, as you can imagine, it's wall-to-wall coverage, which means that they cancelled any celebrity interviews they had scheduled in favour of the 'important' stuff. Now, I don't have such celeb-focussed tunnel-vision that I can't possibly handle a morning show without one. That is not my complaint. This is. You see, even while no celebs could possibly appear on such a day as this, because that would just be too improper and anyway they should all be cowering in shame at the frivolous nature of their pursuits, Bill O'Reilly was still welcomed and interviewed about his new book. I am seething. This cretin is only there to spruik his crap, yet he is treated like an esteemed authority whose opinion propriety dictates be sought, and whose appearance in no way jars with the overall tone of the program for that day. This is insupportable! I bet you they bumped Liv Tyler or something [insupportable!] because they just couldn't countenance talking about something so extraneous as a film. But that is just so lame and blind, people! Really, what is the difference between Liv Tyler and Bill O'Reilly? [Hearty apologies to Liv, but I'm talking in terms of relevance to the subject of Saddam]. I almost didn't notice how fucked up the thing was because the NBC people [shame, Matt Lauer, shame] didn't skip a beat or change their 'newsy' tone when they spoke to, or about, Bill. Instead, they talked about "getting Bill's perspective on the capture of Saddam" in the same way that they talked about an upcoming interview with the General in charge of the division who actually did the capturing. They might as well have said, "And later, we'll get Elmo's perspective on the capture of Saddam", but, you see, they didn't, because that would be weird. PEOPLE ARE CRAZY! And then, when Bill comes on, he is also afflicted with the madness. He doesn't seem to feel that his appearance is incongruous in the least, even though the first thing mentioned is his new book, before "but we'll get to that in just a moment". This exchange amazingly follows; "Bottom line, how much of an impact on the situation in Iraq does the capture of Saddam Hussein have?", to which Bill replies, "It's huge. It's an enormous victory for the USA. All Americans should be happy about it. [turns head like a hawk to look straight down the camera and speak directly to all the 'guilty' viewers at home] And those of you who aren't happy about it, you oughta look into yourselves". Who the fuck is this guy? He's there 'taking a stand' against some phantom element of America unhappy about Saddam being found, without a flicker of doubt in him about what the hell he is doing there in the first place using the success of 'our fighting men and women' as a platform to get the word out about one of his money-spinners. What a cunt. It's so fucked up. See, what I'm thinking is, why can they talk to Bill O'Reilly about Saddam, and not Liv Tyler? Both would pretty much have the same authority on the matter. So why get his perspective on any and all the possible implications of this news, but run screaming from the prospect of talking to Liv Tyler about it alongside a Lord of the Rings interview? I just hate it that anytime something 'real' happens, people in the arts have to disappear because what they do is too small and self-interested to be considered alongside such HUGE IMPORTANT matters. And yet pundits, who are simply unrefined views with a profile [and no less self-interested] only gain strength from HUGE IMPORTANT news. They get to take over when big shit goes down. They move to centre stage. I am sensing a major double standard here which goes against sense. I mean, both groups rely on their celebrity, but actors actually work for a living, so doesn't that make them more 'serious' than those who get by simply for being blowhards? Why is the more flimsy group treated as the more serious one? What is up with that? Crazy mad.

Madonna is seriously a dick. I'm watching Oprah and that's the only conclusion to which I can come. Only a dick can listen to Oprah talk about the change she's noticed in them and the 'softer vibrations' coming from them and actually take such talk seriously and accept it as an acknowledgement of the 'work' they've been doing on themselves. A non-dick would laugh at the lameness of it, or something, but Madonna doesn't seem to have her 'self-analysis' up when it comes to praise of herself... or of the positive effects of Kabbalah. I love it that when Oprah is sort of losing the flow of her point, she panics a little and then puts in the word 'spirituality' and Madonna immediately perks up. She talks about the HUGE lessons little Lola is learning at her spirituality classes, like how every action has a reaction. HUGE! Then she goes on to praise some weird schizophrenic mindset that these lessons have put her daughter in, which she calls 'wisdom'. Anyway, the kids learn about the duelling forces within themselves, the good and the bad, and then are provided with 'tools' to combat the bad part. You see, the bad part is 'not really them', but rather their 'opponent'. Slightly uncomfortable. Put me in mind of that scene in Donnie Darko where Jake gets all frustrated by the reduction of the vast potentiality of human emotion to two motivating forces; love and fear. Seems like a crock. Have noticed Oprah not a very challenging interviewer. Very annoying though.

With crisis and calamity all around, and after a few intital minutes attending to the details of the capture, I could take it no more. Too much 'pathetic' and 'dishevelled' and 'unkempt' for me to bear. So I had no choice other than to studiously peruse the latest NW. Life goes on, you know? But anyway, it was small comfort. Within it, I found a ghastly piece of information that shocked me with a flicker of sadness. You see, tucked in amongst all the general gossip at the back of the magazine was the news that Jonathan Brandis had killed himself, with quotes like "struggling to find work in film" and "he enjoyed a moderately successful career" making it all simple and pathetic. Sucks. I was just beginning to like the guy. He was really good in Ride With The Devil which, as I have mentioned quite a few times, is my favourite movie and is also totally underrated and underseen. Not happy.

Christ! The Saddam coverage is already pissing me off. I was all in a good English mood what with Love Actually and Sky News and Tony Blair conferences and shit, and then they switched to the american ABC News with that Charlie hack who does Good Morning America with Diane Sawyer. Way to kill the buzz people. First words out of his mouth were a mistake. He said "And that was Ambassador Tony Blair speaking from...". Yeah I know Charlie's on the fly and his head was probably full of the word 'ambassador' because he was about to talk to one, but still, let me hate him for it anyway. Okay, hate is the wrong word. Let me look upon him with disdain. But, if I did hate him, I would have good reason to [besides the Good Morning America hackness, which is reason enough]. You see, when talking about how Saddam was captured and stuff, Charlie goes "He was found cowering in a mud-hole", so, like, I rest my case.

I just got back from seeing Love Actually and I loved it, but that is beside the point now. You see, on the way home I had made all these grand plans about how I would impress you all with my extensive knowledge of English actoring by listing every role and show and movie that I knew of in which had appeared each person who played a part [no matter how minor] in the film. The only one I couldn't pin down was the one who played Hugh Grant's girlfriend, although she did look familiar, but I wasn't going to even mention that. I was hoping you'd be so dazzled by the breadth and depth of my recollection of every appearance made on ABC TV that you'd forgive me that one. And then, as a final showstopper, I was going to link them all up six-degrees-of-Kevin-Bacon style just to prove that I had enough stuff on them to link them all up even if the movie Love Actually had never been made and had never achieved that point without me. It would have been terrible fun darlings. For me.

But then I got home and holy shit, Saddam's been and got git! Christiane Amanpour is talking behind me right now. It's all serious and big. So, no treats for me. Bum. I just hate it when personal moments of joy and potential glory are overshadowed and made to seem irrelevant and in poor taste by the monumental events [perhaps] of the world. Poor me.

Ooooh, I have spied a silver lining. Hee hee. Now I can't wait for the red carpet interviews where all the celebs are going to be commenting on the whole Saddam thing. It is going to be gold. GOLD!

Oh yeah. And I guess if it aids stability in Iraq or something, that might be nice too. Oh, and the no deaths thing was also way cool.

This is just a nonsense post to keep the thing ticking over and to give the impression that Symposiasts springs from such thoroughly interesting and agile minds and lives that regular blogging becomes necessary just to release the pressure of all the ideas and happenings. So, yeah. Um, things to recommend - reading Phillips Adam's page in the Australian magazine this weekend. He nails recent US foreign policy shift using quotes from previous US leaders, including Georgie's daddy. Liked it. I've got a lot of time for Phillip Adams, but the precarious personal digressions he sometimes enters into don't always pay off. None this week, though. Made my wall. [But, who am I to chide personal digressions anyway? It's just better when they're good is all]. Saw Japanese Story at the Moonlight Cinema on Thursday, and I liked most of it. I liked the beginning and the middle, but it really dragged near the end [my impatience being exacerbated by the cold and numbness of my behind and legs. I must remember to bring a pillow next time]. On Friday I went to see the Melbourne Symphony play Beethoven's 9th, which is always an exhilerating treat. A tip for anyone thinking of breaking into the whole symphony patronage scene; forget the fancy shmancy dress circle, that's just a crock. Go the choir seats at the sides of the stage all the way [we are seasoned goers and now request them when we subscribe. It's a cinch, because astonishingly the secret is not out... Oh shit.] Best and cheapest seats in the frickin house. Nice little drinkies after for Jedda's birthday and success. Yay. And last night went to Bridgie C's tops soiree where I was wonderfully sustained by a jug of Mojitos [is that how you spell it?], and apologies if anyone else wanted some. Delicious. Excellent folks, excellent catch-ups. Tops night. So my life's all good. But what is there to blog about?

It's a bit late in the telling, but last Sunday evening I went and saw Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds at the Sidney Myer Music Bowl. It was supreme quality baby. Totally excellent. He mixed up his personas nicely, alternating between the all crazy preacher-man, the Elaine-dancer and the heartfelt mournful pianist. Cool. The support acts were Neko Case and Calexico and I would urge you to give them some serious consideration.

In other stuff, I watched Terminator 3 the other day. I liked it. I was expecting to totally hate the distinct lack of Edward Furlong, but Nick Stahl was nice and understated which made me wincingly remember that Eddie's T2 perfomance was way overwrought, man. He still rules in Detroit Rock City though. I saw Nick Stahl in Bully where he played the jerk, and he was good, and is also good in this, the little runt. Claire Danes is also excellent. I also liked it that random truck drivers didn't get summarliy slaughtered by the bad terminator [I think I'm supposed to say 'terminatrix'] just for stopping at the site of an accident, which irked me in the second one. It might seem weird given that 3 billion people die in a nuclear holocaust and all, but I found this 'lighter' than the other Terminators, and more bearable for it. I like the first Terminator a lot, but I've grown to hate the second one [particularly the director's extended edition of it. Blurgh]. It annoys me how pumped they all get, you know? Yeah yeah, the end of the world is coming and only you can stop it, but did they have to be all annoying and earnest all the time? So, I think I like this latest one the best. Instead of being all grappling with the news that he is destined to be the saviour of the remnant of humanity in the aftermath of a nuclear war, this time John Connor is like, a little embarrassed to have to explain to an old school chum that, he's like, destined to be the saviour of the remnant of humanity in the aftermath of a nuclear war. I like it. Oh, and I just remembered something piss funny that's on the DVD. Try the commentary, if only to hear Arnold talk about how he thought it was a great idea to make the new bad terminator a girl, because it is "interesting" and a brilliant concept that keeps the formula fresh and how excited he was about casting a "beautiful face and physique" and stuff. And later, when there's a bit where the terminatrix inflates her boobs, Arnie really likes that. He thinks that all the women in the audience will be saying to themselves, "Wow. I really want my breasts to do that, because some men like them big, some like them small. If I could just change them whenever I needed to like that, wow, that would be great". I was laughing a lot. He has a quite lovely and indecipherable way of expressing himself [and no, I'm not talking about his accent. Jeez, it's just an accent. What's the big deal? I'm actually talking about it being really quite difficult to figure out what he intends when he says the ludicrous stuff. Is he 'naughty playful' or just straight-up arrogant? When he's talking about women, it's really hard to tell]. His DVD commentary was recorded before the whole gubernatorial brou-ha-ha and the groping and stuff, but's it's funnier for it. I can just add it to the growing bunch of hilarious Arnie scenes I am collecting which I am fond of, even if I'm not sure what to make of him through them. There was his appearance on Oprah when he was trying to explain that he was a different man when he was promoting body-building and he would say things like "Pumping iron is better than coming". But, you see, to explain that point he had to say "pumping iron is better than coming" [and hold his fist up from his lap], and so he said it, and shocked laughter gusted up around him for some reason. I thought it was a beautifully crass statement, and anyway, it's in the past, right? And there's all the Letterman clips of him groping exotic dancers and smoking weed and 'teaching English to a young lady' by holding a carrot to her mouth and getting her to bite it and saying "This is Bi-ting", and then just pushing and pulling the carrot in and out of her mouth and saying "and what is this?" or something. I'm really beginning to like the guy. He's a buffoon.

P.S. None of the above should be taken to mean that I think Arnold is a good actor or that his election campaign merited his election or anything. I am just glad that he has allowed so much of his general conversation to be recorded.

TV rules. At the moment I am loving The Weekly Daily Show with Jon Stewart, and The OC. Utterly supreme. Oprah is also delivering big time. She has completely lost her footing on the planet Earth and it's great. She's doing shows about 'Entertaining' and being a good hostess and choosing the right 'party favors' to give to your guests to thank them for accepting your specially designed invitations and for sitting at your elegantly themed and scented-candle-laden table setting, wearing outfits that respect the dress code you specified on your invite to allay any confusion and complimenting one another on the 'hostess gifts' they brought you to thank you for inviting them. You see, the holidays don't have to be a chore. Look how easy it all can be! She's seriously peddling porn for the delectation of us simple aspirationals. And even though it's all a bunch of bullshit, it's all good. Today, she was speaking to her 'pioneering new friend Salma Hayek' [a title she kept repeating] and then Beyonce dropped her gorgeousness all over the joint. Bam! I am really looking forward to Monday's episode which is a look 'Inside the Lives of the Rich', and I am hoping desperately that the Hilton sisters will make their appearance then. Sweet. Y'all noddin. I see y'all noddin. I also enjoyed Nip/Tuck this week. I got quite drawn in to it. I will now give you an example of the extent to which my critical faculties were disarmed by it. You see, at the end of the show when the two surgeons were feeding that paedophile guy to a local crocodile, and they cannily masked the human flesh with pork, I didn't go, like, 'yawn'. My exact response was [and I am ashamed of this] to say "Oh wow. He really did listen to his son at the breakfast table. He's a good father after all", which is the response they had set me up for at the beginning of the show when the surgeon's son was haranguing him for never listening, before turning to talk to his little sister about crocodiles, whereupon the pork information was delivered to anyone who cared to listen. And daddy cared. Awwww. They totally nailed me. I should have been laughing at the show's trashiness and attempts at being 'grisly' and 'controversial', but I was more concerned with keeping the partnership together as it threatened to break apart. I kept urging the players to think about it. I would say "geez guys, it's so simple. All you need to do is make a deal with each other ensuring that part of your workload must be pro bono reconstructive stuff, and then you'll be able to keep the practice together without any lingering dissatisfaction", and then became all happy when they took my advice. I am such a sucker.

I have an idea for a show of my own, actually. I reckon a show that just gathered together all the funny and ridiculous news presentations of the week would rate its arse off. Jon Stewart and David Letterman both have popular little clip segments in their shows reserved for news stupidity, but I reckon there's enough material out there for a whole show, every week, or maybe even every day. And I'm not talking about a bloopers show. I'm talking about a highlights show, featuring some of the hilarious crap that passes off as accomplished news. It would of course heavily feature Fox and Today Tonight and 60 Minutes and A Current Affair and stuff, but not exclusively. It would be our policy to go wherever the absurd and dumbass might be found. Just last night on The 7:30 Report there was a report on the near air collision over Melbourne, and even though the story went on to make cogent and fairminded points about new air safety regulations which allow light aircraft to have unrestricted access to airspace also used by commercial jets, it actually began with ten seconds of slow-motion airport/control tower/airplanes footage accompanied by a doomy distorted monstrous engine hum soundscape, with no words breaking the mood until the plane landed, whereupon the reporter's voice-over began; "It's a pilot's worst nightmare..." Pew. Lame to the max. But entertaining and enlightening too, if lampooned. The funniest thing I heard today came not from a news parody, but it was funny because it mirrored a news parody. A 'serious' report on NBC Today [about the dangers of using non-bank ATMs because of the potential for crime-rings to insert devices in them that strip your details from your card and store it so that they can print 'bogus' cards and steal from your account] began with a montage of different ATMs being used and close-ups of the cash being dispensed, and then the voice-over stated, "An ATM is an ATM... Or is it?" Serious cacks . And then later, after talking about the 'nationwide' problem, he gets a byte from a guy who no longer trusts ATMs and will from now on only get his money straight from the bank, before finishing up with "But countless others, especially in the holiday shopping season, won't... All potential victims". These are only random examples, but there are serious possibilities here. If we had a team of employees monitoring all the stations and gathering material [I'd be up for it] then we could assemble some serious gems. Then we'd just need the right host and some comedy writers and the pisstaking and 'consciousness raising' could begin. It could be a really good show, and could be made on the cheap to boot. I am a genius. Alright alright, so it's just a Media Watch rehash, but I reckon it could rule. I would watch it. That's probably not a ringing endorsement of its potential worth, but whatever, it really really could be seriously good. Expanding on an already successful premise. Making a 'fusion' of two already existing and I think award-winning shows [Media Watch content, Jon Stewart slant]. It's got all the elements. It's sooo TV, baby. I'll get my people to call your people.

Regarding Elanor's excitement bout summer TV, I stumbled across Nip/Tuck the other night. There's no way I can explain its tantalizing crapness, so here's an example: "it's not your breasts you have to change. It's your life". I just don't understand what this show's trying to be. Part ER, part Melrose, part Extreme Makeovers, it's all over the place. In one episode they had ruptured breast implants, a marriage breakdown, the collapse of a surgical partnership, a guy with a mask, child abuse, cocaine, a gerbil called Frisky(!) and a mid-life crisis. Also amusing watching Julian McMahon play a sleazoid plastic surgeon - it somehow seems the perfect fit. Funny that his dad once ruled our fair land...

I am getting completely sick of those hair and beauty product ads that co-opt the whole "I am empowered woman" thing. It's just too irritating [actually, it might be the whole "I am empowered woman" thing that's just too irritating. The co-option maybe doesn't bother me so much as the thing. Just to be clear, though. Either way, I am severely irritated]. I just saw an ad that had words like "soft but strong", and "pure but sensual", floating across the faces of women with great hair who are forthright [prepared to look directly at the camera] and feminine [cue secret smiles all round] and fulfilled and content blah blah blah. Puke puke puke. The point was, I'm sure, to demonstrate how these 'seemingly contradictory' terms can now be understood as the great and complicated characteristics of modern womanhood. And don't we all just love that? It's so evolved and intelligent. Yay women. And hey, if these empowering words also happen to describe the kind of hair you can have if you use a particular woman-targeted shampoo then, isn't that all for the good? [short and emphatic] Fuck [disgusted pause] off. Another self-satisfied little piece of crap that has me contorting my body on the couch in an attempt to express 'interpretatively' my revulsion is an ad for some make-up remover towelette, or something. There's this chick taking off her make-up at the end of a long [and presumably terribly modern, with all the joys and pitfalls that that entails. Embrace it, girls] day, and with each wipe she says "Because I am not my mascara", and so on, as she does away with each corresponding type of make-up [mask, falsity, caricature of essential 'woman', whatever you want to call it]. I am biting my fist right now. But the ad becomes its most excruciating at the end when, having rid herself of all the accoutrements women are forced to hide behind on a daily basis, she looks directly into the mirror [she's a forthright one, sassy] and says, "Because I am me". But it's not some deadpan "because I am me". She sounds kind of indignant and shrill with a rising pitch on the "I" and the "me" so she sounds like a whiny school debater, you know, "Because I... am ME". Take that, boys, or whoever it is this 'consciousness-raising' piece of crap is directed at. Take it. Aaarggh! Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. It's just a fucking beauty product! Yeah yeah, power of advertising to shape people's conception of themselves blah blah signpost moments in pop culture revealing or reinforcing an attitudinal shift blah blah no fucking way. These ads are stupid, conceived probably as a cynical ploy that guises greed in 'enlightenment', and they most definitely reduce this 'complex woman' crap to its most unbearable parrot form, and then have it stand for what "the best and most content and adjusted and glossy haired of us" think about ourselves. Please make them go away. It's just too irritating.

Seriously, that $100K Summer Buzz chick on Channel 7 really really needs to go away. Unbearable.