Everyone loves a good newspaper 'comments' section. Especially Mediawatch, because it's usually full of nutbags. Take this story for instance.
Once again you can debate the whole arts issue until the cows come home, I don't give a rats - I just think it's interesting that comments written by certain people *ahem* likening the other readers to Andrew Bolt groupies who should stick to picketing art galleries somehow get caught in the moderation net and yet well thought out ones such as this do,
The Age is harbouring a sick culture, it has an illness.
Posted by: james 4:17pm today
Comment 47 of 55
That's all we've got time for on MediaWatch tonight. I'm Stuart Littlemore.
Thursday, 10 July 2008
Wednesday, 9 July 2008
Great Moments In The History Of Sleep
So, I'm a shithouse sleeper. Nothing for you to be concerned about (or is it ladies? Rowr! Oh god, now I've made myself ill..), but a prick of a way to live your life. Sure I can sleep - if it's in a bed, everything is quiet, the temperature is right and I can turn my hyperactive mind off for ten minutes but it's when things don't work like this that the fun and games begin. A barking dog? Nervous breakdown territory. Car alarms? Welcome to suicide watch. The ticking crossing signal right outside my bedroom window when I lived in St. Kilda? You may remember that I went outside and tried to smash that one glorious summer morning in early 2004.
So, if the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars I can usually sleep - but god knows what goes on when I do because apparently it's like a fun house attraction full of wild scenes. Look, he's having hardcore nightmares! Not that I can remember them. See Adam start yelling things out in French even though he hasn't learnt squat since Year 8! Oh, he's plummetted out of bed onto the floor like a failed It's A Knockout contestant. It's all the fun of the fair in my bedroom for all the wrong reasons.
Then waking up is another thing. For the first half an hour I'm a mess of the highest order - like a Zombie half summoned from beyond the grave. And so it was that last night I ended up at a sleep disorder clinic with more wires and attachments on me than Robocop. Tubes up the nose, ECG's running riot, finger pulse things going nuts and a video camera watching events unfold live. So, as the fussiest sleeper in history do you think there was any danger whatsoever that I would be able to get enough sleep under those conditions to give any sort of meaningful data. Well, you'd be surprised but it was a close run thing. Thanks to the referring doctor who told me that it was ok if you freaked out because they've got mountains of sleeping pills that they can dish out to put you into a coma. Thanks for freaking nothing because when I woke up and asked for them to, as the kids say "Give me all your drugs you bastards", it turned out that they couldn't give you squat unless the specialist recommended it. What a farce. Somehow, despite all this and having more electrodes attached to my scalp than Ted Bundy in the electric chair I got away with it.
They finally let me go at 6 this morning, and what a hillarious drive that was home - half out of it, in hardcore fog and with a truckload of goo in my hair either from where the wires had been attached or where the night nurse dude had gotten a bit bored at 4am. What a shambles.
So, if the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars I can usually sleep - but god knows what goes on when I do because apparently it's like a fun house attraction full of wild scenes. Look, he's having hardcore nightmares! Not that I can remember them. See Adam start yelling things out in French even though he hasn't learnt squat since Year 8! Oh, he's plummetted out of bed onto the floor like a failed It's A Knockout contestant. It's all the fun of the fair in my bedroom for all the wrong reasons.
Then waking up is another thing. For the first half an hour I'm a mess of the highest order - like a Zombie half summoned from beyond the grave. And so it was that last night I ended up at a sleep disorder clinic with more wires and attachments on me than Robocop. Tubes up the nose, ECG's running riot, finger pulse things going nuts and a video camera watching events unfold live. So, as the fussiest sleeper in history do you think there was any danger whatsoever that I would be able to get enough sleep under those conditions to give any sort of meaningful data. Well, you'd be surprised but it was a close run thing. Thanks to the referring doctor who told me that it was ok if you freaked out because they've got mountains of sleeping pills that they can dish out to put you into a coma. Thanks for freaking nothing because when I woke up and asked for them to, as the kids say "Give me all your drugs you bastards", it turned out that they couldn't give you squat unless the specialist recommended it. What a farce. Somehow, despite all this and having more electrodes attached to my scalp than Ted Bundy in the electric chair I got away with it.
They finally let me go at 6 this morning, and what a hillarious drive that was home - half out of it, in hardcore fog and with a truckload of goo in my hair either from where the wires had been attached or where the night nurse dude had gotten a bit bored at 4am. What a shambles.
Monday, 7 July 2008
Lost Video Classix
Remember Shampoo? That's the band, not the consumer product. Anyway you probably remember them for the colossal one hit wonder that was "Trouble" (basically Caught By The Fuzz sung by girls).
That was shit. This is Bouffant Headbutt - it's ace. This song told you everything you needed to know about Chav culture years before Little Britain came out with that rubbish bird in the pink tracksuit.
Is it wrong that I find this video hot? Survey says yes it is.
Kontroversy Korner
I'm pretty sure I know where I stand in the grand "Is it art, or is that Gary Glitter I see lurking out the front?" debate that's going on at the moment. As far as I'm aware perves are rarely seen whacking it in art galleries, especially when there's this new fangled gadget called the internet that the punters are really getting into.
But now, just when people went back to thinking that Bill Henson was that guy who created the Muppets, a magazine has upped the ante with a selection of allegedly fruity shots.
The young girl whose naked photo appeared on the cover of an arts magazine, sparking a new controversy, has defended the picture, saying she is proud of it.
Art Monthly Australia magazine sparked fresh outrage over naked images of children by publishing an image of a six-year-old Olympia Nelson on its July cover and two shots inside.
The magazine's editors said the images were chosen as a protest against the recent furore over similar pictures by artist Bill Henson.
Now, you can weight in to this debate however you like. Whether you're in the Konservative Kevin Prime Ministerial camp, are personally offended and am getting ready to go all "Danish cartoons" on their ass or whether like me you don't particuarly give a rats ass there's one scenario I want you to consider.
You're an arts lover. Every month you get down to your local newsagent to grab a copy of Art Monthly Australia. Suddenly this month you bound into your local, take a look at the front cover, think "shit they're desperate for a few sales, I must subscribe", grab your copy and head up to the counter. The person serving you takes one look at the famous magazine, realises that you're some kind of evil massive super pervert even though you're actually not and starts openly verbally abusing you for being a disgraceful human being in front of an entire store of concerned citizens. Another service that Art Monthly magazine provides to their loyal readers! My money's on their sales actually dropping this month but then all the freaks and longtime readers trying to get back copies off Ebay, where they will instantly be dismissed from being listed after this woman has a nervous breakdown and goes on A Current Affair.
P.S - Next time somebody shows you a shot of their newborn baby PUNCH THEM IN THE FACE AND CALL THE COPS. How dare they? The sick perves.
P.P.S - If you came here via Google looking for the fruity shots I'm afraid you probably do need to have a good hard look at yourself.
But now, just when people went back to thinking that Bill Henson was that guy who created the Muppets, a magazine has upped the ante with a selection of allegedly fruity shots.
The young girl whose naked photo appeared on the cover of an arts magazine, sparking a new controversy, has defended the picture, saying she is proud of it.
Art Monthly Australia magazine sparked fresh outrage over naked images of children by publishing an image of a six-year-old Olympia Nelson on its July cover and two shots inside.
The magazine's editors said the images were chosen as a protest against the recent furore over similar pictures by artist Bill Henson.
Now, you can weight in to this debate however you like. Whether you're in the Konservative Kevin Prime Ministerial camp, are personally offended and am getting ready to go all "Danish cartoons" on their ass or whether like me you don't particuarly give a rats ass there's one scenario I want you to consider.
You're an arts lover. Every month you get down to your local newsagent to grab a copy of Art Monthly Australia. Suddenly this month you bound into your local, take a look at the front cover, think "shit they're desperate for a few sales, I must subscribe", grab your copy and head up to the counter. The person serving you takes one look at the famous magazine, realises that you're some kind of evil massive super pervert even though you're actually not and starts openly verbally abusing you for being a disgraceful human being in front of an entire store of concerned citizens. Another service that Art Monthly magazine provides to their loyal readers! My money's on their sales actually dropping this month but then all the freaks and longtime readers trying to get back copies off Ebay, where they will instantly be dismissed from being listed after this woman has a nervous breakdown and goes on A Current Affair.
P.S - Next time somebody shows you a shot of their newborn baby PUNCH THEM IN THE FACE AND CALL THE COPS. How dare they? The sick perves.
P.P.S - If you came here via Google looking for the fruity shots I'm afraid you probably do need to have a good hard look at yourself.
Saturday, 5 July 2008
Fat Bastards Corner
Somebody in the Cadbury marketing department who is due a massive raise.
Ever since I was a kid the process of buying a Crunchie from a store consisted largely of standing there for five minutes poking at individual bars to try and work out which one hadn't broken in the middle and shattered into a thousand shards of honeycomb. Like the good consumers we are everyone just put up with this - but now some genius has come up with an idea so simple that it's offensive that nobody thought of it earlier.
Split the Crunchie in half at the factory.
Suddenly the standard package is being sold as a "twin" pack. So simple. No more shatter, no more mess, no more dirty looks from the guy behind the counter at 7/11 who is wondering why you're fingering his confectionary.
Sucked in Violet Crumble customers, those of us in the real honeycomb faction are laughing.
P.S - Yes, I am overweight.
Thursday, 3 July 2008
International Security Update
Rescuing hostages from Colombian terrorists. That's a good thing. Calling your terrorist group FARC in the first place, we all know that's an even better thing. But misplaced faith? That's just nuts.
Appearing healthy after being held hostage for six years in the jungle, Betancourt, walked down from a Colombian military jet in Bogota on Wednesday and hugged her mother and husband, a broad smile on her face.
"God carried out this miracle," she said. "This is a miracle because I know that all of you suffered with my family, my children, with me. This is a moment of pride for all of Colombia for such a perfect operation."
Shame he was noticeable in his absence when you were being snatched by Guerillas and held in a freaking jungle for the last six years. Thanks God for finally deciding to kick in to the rescue efforts after all these years.
Appearing healthy after being held hostage for six years in the jungle, Betancourt, walked down from a Colombian military jet in Bogota on Wednesday and hugged her mother and husband, a broad smile on her face.
"God carried out this miracle," she said. "This is a miracle because I know that all of you suffered with my family, my children, with me. This is a moment of pride for all of Colombia for such a perfect operation."
Shame he was noticeable in his absence when you were being snatched by Guerillas and held in a freaking jungle for the last six years. Thanks God for finally deciding to kick in to the rescue efforts after all these years.
Tuesday, 1 July 2008
Community Service Announcement
If I ever, EVER, express any desire to watch the movie or stage play of Mamma Mia I humbly request that you take an object (blunt or sharp - stabber's choice!) and gouge out both my eyes and my ears so that I can enjoy it as it was meant to be enjoyed.
Over and out kiddies.
Over and out kiddies.
Monday, 30 June 2008
Marketing Mania
So, right across South East Asia "Diet" Coke has been abolished and replaced with "Coca Cola Light". Sara Jessica Parker is flogging it to death and everyone's happy. So, why then is it still called "Diet Coke" here? Surely the word 'diet' has been discredited so much in the last few years that it's no longer a viable naming option.
Of course Wikipedia knows all,
* In the United States and Canada, the soft drink is called Diet Coke.
* In most of Europe, the drink is marketed as Coca-Cola Light, but often referred to as Cola or Cola Light. Coca-Cola has tried to discourage the use of these generic terms, and commercials refer only to "Coke Light" or "Coca-Cola Light."
* In French-speaking Canada it is called Coke Diète.
* In Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic it is called Diet Coca-Cola.
* In Italy, the name Diet Coke was used until the early 1990s.
* In Mexico, Central, South America and most of the Caribbean it is called Coca-Cola Light.
* In many English-influenced non-English markets e.g. Chile and Israel, it is called Diet Coca-Cola. That was also the case in Scandinavia and Japan although the name Diet Coke was also used until it was changed recently to Coca-Cola Light.
* In Japan it has been called No Calorie Coca-Cola since April 2007.
* In India it is called Diet Coca-Cola. After much campaigning against Coca-Cola in India, Coca-Cola still sells well in Chennai and other cities.
Of course, it's all clear now - their marketing department here are sucking up to the Americans.
P.S - What the fark is Coca-Cola C2? Sounds more like a plastic explosive than a soft drink.
Of course Wikipedia knows all,
* In the United States and Canada, the soft drink is called Diet Coke.
* In most of Europe, the drink is marketed as Coca-Cola Light, but often referred to as Cola or Cola Light. Coca-Cola has tried to discourage the use of these generic terms, and commercials refer only to "Coke Light" or "Coca-Cola Light."
* In French-speaking Canada it is called Coke Diète.
* In Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic it is called Diet Coca-Cola.
* In Italy, the name Diet Coke was used until the early 1990s.
* In Mexico, Central, South America and most of the Caribbean it is called Coca-Cola Light.
* In many English-influenced non-English markets e.g. Chile and Israel, it is called Diet Coca-Cola. That was also the case in Scandinavia and Japan although the name Diet Coke was also used until it was changed recently to Coca-Cola Light.
* In Japan it has been called No Calorie Coca-Cola since April 2007.
* In India it is called Diet Coca-Cola. After much campaigning against Coca-Cola in India, Coca-Cola still sells well in Chennai and other cities.
Of course, it's all clear now - their marketing department here are sucking up to the Americans.
P.S - What the fark is Coca-Cola C2? Sounds more like a plastic explosive than a soft drink.
Tune Watch
Why wait for the end of the year to find out what you should be listening to now? In no particular order we present six of the tracks to have watched out for in the first half of the year - or December last year if you want to be pedantic.
Neon Neon - Michael Douglas
Lethal Bizzle - The Come Up
Elbow - The Fix
Ida Maria - Stella
The Hollows - Why
REM - Supernatural Superserious
Your suggestions on anything I might have missed in the comments please...
Neon Neon - Michael Douglas
Lethal Bizzle - The Come Up
Elbow - The Fix
Ida Maria - Stella
The Hollows - Why
REM - Supernatural Superserious
Your suggestions on anything I might have missed in the comments please...
Master of Disaster
Anyone else see Robert Mugabe's election 'acceptance' speech? The old crunt is so crooked that he not only had to read the lot off a few pieces of paper (as, obviously an autocue would blow the budget so late in the financial year) but when he got to the bit about faithfully upholding the office he struggled through it as if even he didn't believe it. Twat.
Friday, 27 June 2008
International Security Advisor
Hi punters, I'm back. Did you miss me? Of course not, because you probably hadn't even noticed I'd left.
Anyway, after a hot run through South East Asia with absolutely no objectionable goods strapped to my lower intestine I'd like to give the run down of the following customs and immigration angles.
Darwin (leaving) - Four fat blokes and a woman all with moustaches. Absolutely no idea what was going on
Singapore (arriving) - For a country that is exceedingly keen on necking people for bring drugs in they're also exceedingly lax in actually checking if you have any. Once you get past immigration and collect your bag there are, as always doors for "Something To Declare" and "Nothing To Declare". Once you walk out of the Nothing to Declare one you're out of the terminal and have gotten away with it scot free. No thought of a sniffer dog? No putting the heat on just a little bit? No, they've got absolutely no interest whatsoever. Hillariously airlines still wait until the seatbelt sign has gone and landing has commenced before they remind you that carrying gear leads to a death sentence.
Singapore (leaving) - Even going out on a bus they showed far more urgency for departing passengers than they did arriving ones. Loss of the pissy white piece of paper they give you upon arrival will lead to interrogations and near misses of your bus.
Malaysia (arriving) - No interest whatsoever. Sure it was a bus station, but still they could afford to put some excitement into the process. Once more as long as you didn't crack up you could quite easily walk in the door with an AK-47 and 12 pounds of heroin. Barlow and Chambers my arse.
Malaysia (departing) - Even less interest. We were ten minutes late for our flight and they couldn't have been any more helpful in just letting us wander straight past the counter with nothing but a stamp.
Thailand (arriving) - More what you'd expect. A few guys with machine guns and a dog here or there. They want to give you the impression that they're really keen to bang you away in a roach infested prison for a few years.
Thailand (departing) - Relatively pissweak. No real interest other than just stamping the passport and sending you on your merry way.
Darwin (arriving) - Hello Guantanomo Bay! I'm all for national security and border protection but this might have been just a little bit over the top. Firstly they opened one counter for Australian passport holders (80% of the flight) and three for everyone else. Cue a bit of "bloody foreigners" sentiment amongst the tolerant waiting Aussies.
Then once we got past there we were bailed up by the first customs officer for a bit of an informal chat. Where have you been, what have you do done, are you up to anything even slightly dodgy etc.. As I had a shitload of pirated CD's in my bag I was moderately concerned at the last statement, but soon realised they couldn't give a toss. Downstairs and we were immediately bailed up by the next customs officer for the same drill. "No sir, I do not have 30,000 ecstasy tablets inserted in any unmentionable orifice - may I go now?" Yes you may, about five metres before you get the same routine AGAIN. They weren't even pretending to be subtle about it now. Then the Quarantine guy did the same and went through my bags. Well, opened it and had a look in anyway. Everyone else seemed to be going through an X-Ray machine but after he'd had a cursory glance inside he waved me on. I even offered to X-Ray it but there was no interest. Remember, if you're up to something dubious in Darwin make sure you declare some pissy wooden picture frame so that you can get away with all your other scams.
I suppose they've got a point. If you were going to come back with something dodgy on you you'd probably think that Darwin would be a safer bet for getting away with it than Melbourne or Sydney. They had pretty much everything that you'd get in the 'big city' except for the sniffer dogs. Keep this in mind if you're "up to something" kids.
DISCLAIMER: TSP does not encourage you to be "up to anything" anywhere. When we travel to Bali we shop at Denpasar Boogie Boards - where you get 10% more every time.
Anyway, after a hot run through South East Asia with absolutely no objectionable goods strapped to my lower intestine I'd like to give the run down of the following customs and immigration angles.
Darwin (leaving) - Four fat blokes and a woman all with moustaches. Absolutely no idea what was going on
Singapore (arriving) - For a country that is exceedingly keen on necking people for bring drugs in they're also exceedingly lax in actually checking if you have any. Once you get past immigration and collect your bag there are, as always doors for "Something To Declare" and "Nothing To Declare". Once you walk out of the Nothing to Declare one you're out of the terminal and have gotten away with it scot free. No thought of a sniffer dog? No putting the heat on just a little bit? No, they've got absolutely no interest whatsoever. Hillariously airlines still wait until the seatbelt sign has gone and landing has commenced before they remind you that carrying gear leads to a death sentence.
Singapore (leaving) - Even going out on a bus they showed far more urgency for departing passengers than they did arriving ones. Loss of the pissy white piece of paper they give you upon arrival will lead to interrogations and near misses of your bus.
Malaysia (arriving) - No interest whatsoever. Sure it was a bus station, but still they could afford to put some excitement into the process. Once more as long as you didn't crack up you could quite easily walk in the door with an AK-47 and 12 pounds of heroin. Barlow and Chambers my arse.
Malaysia (departing) - Even less interest. We were ten minutes late for our flight and they couldn't have been any more helpful in just letting us wander straight past the counter with nothing but a stamp.
Thailand (arriving) - More what you'd expect. A few guys with machine guns and a dog here or there. They want to give you the impression that they're really keen to bang you away in a roach infested prison for a few years.
Thailand (departing) - Relatively pissweak. No real interest other than just stamping the passport and sending you on your merry way.
Darwin (arriving) - Hello Guantanomo Bay! I'm all for national security and border protection but this might have been just a little bit over the top. Firstly they opened one counter for Australian passport holders (80% of the flight) and three for everyone else. Cue a bit of "bloody foreigners" sentiment amongst the tolerant waiting Aussies.
Then once we got past there we were bailed up by the first customs officer for a bit of an informal chat. Where have you been, what have you do done, are you up to anything even slightly dodgy etc.. As I had a shitload of pirated CD's in my bag I was moderately concerned at the last statement, but soon realised they couldn't give a toss. Downstairs and we were immediately bailed up by the next customs officer for the same drill. "No sir, I do not have 30,000 ecstasy tablets inserted in any unmentionable orifice - may I go now?" Yes you may, about five metres before you get the same routine AGAIN. They weren't even pretending to be subtle about it now. Then the Quarantine guy did the same and went through my bags. Well, opened it and had a look in anyway. Everyone else seemed to be going through an X-Ray machine but after he'd had a cursory glance inside he waved me on. I even offered to X-Ray it but there was no interest. Remember, if you're up to something dubious in Darwin make sure you declare some pissy wooden picture frame so that you can get away with all your other scams.
I suppose they've got a point. If you were going to come back with something dodgy on you you'd probably think that Darwin would be a safer bet for getting away with it than Melbourne or Sydney. They had pretty much everything that you'd get in the 'big city' except for the sniffer dogs. Keep this in mind if you're "up to something" kids.
DISCLAIMER: TSP does not encourage you to be "up to anything" anywhere. When we travel to Bali we shop at Denpasar Boogie Boards - where you get 10% more every time.
Wednesday, 11 June 2008
International Correspondant
Greetings from a beach somewhere in South East Asia. Well, not actually on the beach - but hand me a computer that I can connect to the net to from a deckchair and I'm in - upon my return (23rd?) I promise* a full and frank TSP revival! Get into it.
* Non-core
* Non-core
Wednesday, 28 May 2008
Blogging Retro
Now, I know TSP has pretty much died in the arse. No, really - you're too kind but it has. However if I'm ever seen using the term 'blogosphere' and trying to pass it off as a legitimate word please stab me in the ear with a knitting needle. I'm still bitter than Wide World of Blog never got up.
It struck me today just how many of the blogs I read a few years ago have died in the arse. For me the golden era peaked the night that every man and their dog who was of any interest in the Melbourne blogo... hold on Wide World of Blog.. got together and got massacred a few years ago. Those were the days my friends. THOSE WERE THE F'ING DAYS.
It struck me today just how many of the blogs I read a few years ago have died in the arse. For me the golden era peaked the night that every man and their dog who was of any interest in the Melbourne blogo... hold on Wide World of Blog.. got together and got massacred a few years ago. Those were the days my friends. THOSE WERE THE F'ING DAYS.
Saturday, 17 May 2008
Worst Entertainment Ever
So, you thought the AFL Grand Final did it badly? Never thought you'd see anything which would top the abortion they served up in 1999 when a "spaceship" crashed into the MCG and a fake Russian cosmonaut with the worst accent ever got out of it to do a tired catchphrase.
We present the 1990 SANFL Grand Final halftime show. Fast forward to 1.45 for chicken suits, the Birdy dance and the most unenthusiastic and out of time child performers ever.
Then at about 4.45 the tone changes entirely and the marching band starts playing porn music as a cavalcade of scantily clad tarts enter the arena.
Then the crowd does the wave. Anyone who does that at a football match (of any code) should be garotted. All the time while this is going on the marching band are playing "Hey Big Spender" and the woman in the chicken suit attempts a bit of sexy dancing. Then some ten year old kid does - HELLO FEDERAL POLICE? ARE YOU WATCHING?
Then, sensibly, Nine's Wide World of Sports goes to an ad and we're spared. I'm surprised the AFL didn't see this, ring up the Adelaide Crows and tell them that they weren't allowed to join the competition. Actually I'm even more surprised that they didn't steal these ideas for their own Grand Final 'spectaculars'
We present the 1990 SANFL Grand Final halftime show. Fast forward to 1.45 for chicken suits, the Birdy dance and the most unenthusiastic and out of time child performers ever.
Then at about 4.45 the tone changes entirely and the marching band starts playing porn music as a cavalcade of scantily clad tarts enter the arena.
Then the crowd does the wave. Anyone who does that at a football match (of any code) should be garotted. All the time while this is going on the marching band are playing "Hey Big Spender" and the woman in the chicken suit attempts a bit of sexy dancing. Then some ten year old kid does - HELLO FEDERAL POLICE? ARE YOU WATCHING?
Then, sensibly, Nine's Wide World of Sports goes to an ad and we're spared. I'm surprised the AFL didn't see this, ring up the Adelaide Crows and tell them that they weren't allowed to join the competition. Actually I'm even more surprised that they didn't steal these ideas for their own Grand Final 'spectaculars'
Thursday, 15 May 2008
Late Scratchings
Sale Greyhounds this Sunday night. Race 9. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Chickem Assassin. The dog that will either cause a revolution in dog racing or bust it leg and not return a cent of what I've spent on it.
Be there. Unless you're sane - then just watch it on TV.
Be there. Unless you're sane - then just watch it on TV.
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