Friday, May 14, 2010

horsey girls are babes...

the babin'est babes.
super wild whorses.









Author could watch that forty times.
Blogger seems to think audience need to watch it five times.
Fuck you blogger.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

like giving a drunk another drink?

I don't for a second pretend to understand even the basic concepts of the insanely complex and confusing sphere of international economics. I know farking nar-thing. Does this mean I can't comment on economic policy? Does a lack of knowlege on any topic justify political apathy? Fuck that. Too many people refuse to have an opinion on economic policy because they 'don't know how the economy works'. Newsflash fuckface: neither do economists. Something so complex, so infinitely arguable, so intensely up-in-the-air, is never 'known' by anyone. There will nearly always be a massive amount of people, knowing massive amounts more, about any given anything, than you do. If the issue is the economy, more so than most areas, know that no-one knows best. There is no authority on the subject. Anyone claiming to know for certain the consequence of any piece of economic policy is lying. This is why letting somebody else do the thinking is dangerous. Especially in decisions of dollars and the potential levels of suffering and death associated with every such desicion. Open-minded, inquisitive criticism is necessary for all forms of education. Make your point, listen to the response, change your mind, repeat.

Criticising obvious flaws in things, ignoring 'the way of the world' rationalisations for blatantly unethical or illogical decisions, these things must be a matter of utmost importance; even for the idiot. Especially for the idiot. I'm an idiot, but I care. One of my main (covert) missions in life is to convince other idiots to care. Most people are idiots. Most people aren't willing to admit it. This is the problem with most people, as I see it. Convincing your average 'garden-variety' uncaring-idiot and, even more so, your average 'quasi-intellectual-arsehole-variety' of uncaring-idiot, to care about humanity is a tricky task. Convincing these people that they are an idiot is even trickier. The first problem to be faced by anyone attempting to undertake this 'immeasurable measure' is the struggle with self-consciousness.

The old adage that you shouldn't discuss politics, sex, or religion at the dinner table echoes around today's streets in silence. These echoes, carrying a modern meaning, have an entirely different resonance. 'Among the young', probably thanks to the popularity of South Park, or something, no topic is considered off-limits, nothing is taboo, anything is acceptable 'at the dinner table'. The problem comes if and when we actually form an opinion; as we celebrate an 'open slather on everything' style of comedy, it is entirely unfashionable to be serious about anything except yourself. It's fine to talk about religion, science, sex, or even south park at the dinner table; just don't spout an earnest political opinion about any of the above or you'll be cut down and laughed out of the room.

Fuck the idea that you can't criticise if you don't know better; exposing the illogical and criticising the stupid will lead to more people at least attempting to think. We won't solve shit, if we don't all think. There are plenty of awful processes and practices out there. Plenty of putrid pieces policy and procedure that are in place for no logical reason. The 2010 federal budget included an extra $1.4bn for blowing up Afghani's but only an extra $650mil for converting to clean energy technology. Shit like that makes me angry. Angry enough to tell someone about it who doesn't know or care. Angry enough to irritate friends and alienate others with uninformed, self-righteous ranting about what is right and what is not.

The reason I wax so lyrical and rant so rambling on the topic of saying what you think, economy-wise or otherwise: the big bail-out package being offered to the Greek banks by the EU. This article criticises the current trend towards the Keynesian mode of economics; a model that professes constantly propping up failing, chaotically volatile financial markets with massive, publicly funded bail-out packages. Remember folks, 'publicly funded' means that the money being given to the banks is taxpayer's money, worker's money, 'the people's' money. The argument runs that this process basically equates to global governments printing the money in order to fund a fairy-tale quest for unsustainable endless economic growth. Banks really bad, government bad, people not so bad. Bad government giving not so bad people's money to really bad banks: really, really, bad. Check it out:
http://www.crikey.com.au/2010/05/11/euro-bailout-like-giving-a-drunk-another-drink/
Sure seems stupid.
Time will tell.

reasons to go to splendour ep#1

Foals - Red Socks Pugie // A Take Away Show from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

a humorous cartoon...

Click to enlarge, the bloggy thingy will cut it in 'arf.
Pisser.

travellin' light...

So I figured it was about time I chucked my two cents in on this whole UK indie "nu-folk" 'movement' everyone is losing their shit over.

My (go-to) two cents: it's fucking sick.

Laura Marling is the most ridiculously talented teenager on the planet.
Look at her do lovely things with this lovely lad.
Not like that.
Minds and gutters people.


That fresh faced lovely lad's name is Johnny Flynn.
He can play guitar and sing and play violin too.



He plays onstage sometimes with these guys.
The Mumford and Someones. Meh.



The juices flow.
Did I mention Laura Marling somewhere before?
Yeah well apparently she makes lovelies with Marcus Mumford.
Fuck those would be some disgustingly beautiful and talented offspring.
The mind boggles.
All of the above mentioned maestro's have been know to play in a band called Noah and the Whale. Their stuff really ramps up the saccharin side of this whole folky bit, it's "twee as fuck" in comparison to the Mumford and Marlings. I still dig it. I'm a bit gay.



Nawww. Cigarettes and wine are indeed awesome.
This lady Emmy the Awesome also is awesome and also plays with Noah and The Whale.



Last but certainly not least on the English front, Laura Darling teamed up with dreamy indie-pop darlings The Mystery Jets a while back to make this lovely little ditty.



Right. Enough with the lovely English kids getting all romantic and feeling good.
That's not the way the world works and we all know it.
If your life is really so peachy then good for you, but get fucked.
Shit gets real in the UK folk circles when you head north for some good old fashioned Glaswegian gloom.
FatCat Records is the home of all that is holy, Scottish, unholy, drunken, and sad.
Case #1: Favourite-band-ever-alright Frightened Rabbit.
Seeing this song performed live; three of my life's greatest memories, musical or otherwise.



Still noodling with folk, although ramping up the rock element a little, also from Scotland, also on FatCat, we have The Twilight Sad.



That one gets me.
Like, y'know really gets me.
It understands me and loves me for who I am.
Or something.
To finish of our little journey back to the empire, the band with the silly name.
We Were Promised Jetpacks.
Great name, great band.



That concludes our tour of Britian.
Its been a ride, thanks for the memories, see you next year.
I can't believe how fresh and non-drug-addled I feel.
If you would like to read more about these lovely lads and ladies, their proficiency at swapping instruments and bodily fluids, and other lovely things, have a look here.

http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/features/folk-music-in-the-city-1547431.html

Friday, May 7, 2010

Sodomy and Gash

There was an old man of Corfu,
Who fed upon cunt-juice and spew.
When he couldn’t get this,
He fed upon piss —
And a bloody good substitute, too.


- Norman Douglas 1868-1952.


Some Limericks
,
available through Atlas Press.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Robert Doyle, Bored Mayor of the Council of Cockheads, OBE.


King of the Culture-Haters:
Burn the ‘badly talented’ begging buskers on the streets of Melbourne.
Their fleas and unemployment and unsightly poverty have no place.
Buskers bring the ‘bogans’; not the burbs, or the beers, or the buses.
Sorry the songs of the streets aren’t fit for your refined tastes, Bobby.
Silence the sidewalks, everyone stare straight ahead and stomp in solitude.

Commandant of the Fun-Police:

He wants to:
Blow up the Exford, the best bar in town.
Best because it’s always open, over the bar and over the counter,
but especially under the table.
Long-neck lover’s let us rejoice, for his wish knocked back has been.
We’ve golden ale and coopers pale, our home is ‘boganality’.

Proprietor of Perversion.
His solution for street violence:

“I think it would pay to put all male patrons who enter public institutions of alcoholism through a short video-seminar extolling the virtues of homosexual rape as a very worthy, very achievable alternative to drunken street violence. Next time you feel aggressive under the influence of the demon drink in a public place, simply spike another patron’s drink, and drag them back to the comfort of your own home. By then proceeding to repeatedly rape your fellow degenerate in the most depraved manner you can possibly imagine, you will ensure that your excess testosterone-and-booze-bred rage is released, just as if you had punched the fellow in the face out the front of the pub. The benefits of this new mode of operation for our society come in a triple-threat package...

Firstly, we can continue to fill the public coffers with alcohol-fuelled taxes, without having to worry about the holier-than-thou’s getting all up in our grill about moral decay on the streets of the city. Secondly, the effects of our less dangerous, stress-free testosterone rage release program will flow on to the workplace, thus ensuring: increased productivity; decreased levels of employee dissent; and lesser likelihoods of industrial action. Thirdly, studies have shown that injuries arising from rape (especially the easier, Rohypnol kind of rape), tend to be more closely associated with mental health problems, rather than any real, physical types of injuries. Working in conjunction with our “kill the crazies” policy, this will ease the strain on the overcrowded public hospital system; thus creating the possibility for state governments to save millions upon millions of tax-payers’ hard-earned galleons via decreased health spending. This process of natural selection will also guarantee ever-increasing levels of general public safety and sanity, law and order, as well as lower levels of silliness and irrationality.” - Robert Doyle

No-one gathered in protest.