Seeing double.

Has anyone else noticed that our beloved leader, Kevin Rudd, tends to have a bevy of beauties surrounding him whenever he steps up to the plate for question time?

Obviously the word beauty here is adopted in quite a liberal sense (not Liberal, liberal).

L to R: Julia Gulia, Yvette, Julie and Jodie.

L to R: JG, YD, JuC, JoC and man with red tie.

But there was this one time that Yvette was away [on band camp]:

L to R: Gilly, not Yvette, Jules, Jodes and man with grey tie.

Never again Yvette. Not even one sickie. Did you hear me? NEVER AGAIN. NOT EVEN ONE.

Ahem.

To ensure this sad, devasting, inhumane event never happens again, I think the Rudd Government needs to consider putting some understudies for these four ladies on the books. The understudies could step in when one of Kev's Angels comes down with a cold, is over in Paris swanning around at the taxpayers expense or is stuck in the toilet with no square to spare.

Who is qualified to fill these important roles? I must say it's quite a tough gig. I couldn't do it. Hell, even Kevin couldn't do it when he was on the backbench!

Let's consider what it involves. First, one must be well versed in the following gestures:

• polite nods of approval when policy initiatives are announced
  
• the odd "hear hear" when a particularly pertinent point is made
• a little guffaw or hehehehe when Ruddski throws in a small-sized giggle
• a laugh or two when the Big Man tells a joke or when the Opposition says anything stupid
  
• dour look when there is a crisis...

The list goes on.

Second, one must be able to perform these gestures in unison with at least the other Angels, if not, the whole Labor team.

Third, they should bear a relatively close resemblance to either Julia, Yvette, Julie or Jodie.

Here's what I came up with:

(1) Julia Guillard's understudy = Tilda Swinton

Tilda might have to "bar down" on the necklace front but otherwise she will be suitably qualified. Gestures and unison - check - given she is an (almost) A-list actor. Resemblance - check - a refined ranga with thin lips and a long nose. Tilda just needs to work on those earlobes.

(2) Yvette Dath's understudy = Claire van der Boom

Who? Well she is in Rush, although I think she carks it this week... And was also in Love my Way. Claire might need to get a quick and nasty dye job but otherwise is a good pick on the resemblance front. May fall a bit shy of the unison, but that's to be expected of a first term MP.

(3) Julie Collins = Sigrid Thornton

Again, a stellar pick by me. Parliament will be sure to get a boost in the ratings from those that yearn for the days of yore... when Laura Gibson was lusting after Diver Dan (oh and didn't we all?)

(4) Jodie Campbell = Sigourney Weaver circa 1979

The resemblance is quite astounding, don't you think? I checked and Sigs is more than happy to do it. Now about that time machine... hmmm...

And then, last but not least, Kevin Rudd = Sam Neill:

A wee bit of talcum powder in the hair and an upgrade from polysterene to porcelain and hey presto, we have ourselves a winner!

Melancholy and finite sadness.

Last night, Rosh was sent packing from our Idol screens.

Strap on not visible in this picture

But don't worry, she still has plenty of friends:

And check out her profile pic for some serious 'tude:

It's a crying shame, we didn't get to say sayonara to Shearer or just LEAVE to Jabba. Next time Gadget, next time.

A rolling stone gathers no [Ian] moss

Last night, the Idols took it in turns to honour the band that got their fingers sticky, had beggars at their banquets and had a goats head in their soup.

Lap up that goats eyeball

A few disappointing aspects for me: (1) There was no one to guide the Idols at rehearsals. While this meant that they could focus on singing to the best of their abilities rather than listening to some twat pontificate about their experience in the music industry, it meant that I have one less person to mock mercilessly. (2) No one sang Paint it, Black. (3) No one sang (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction. (4) No one sang Brown Sugar. (5) Jabba sang well. Duor.

The Marcia-God was once again donning a puffy shirt. WTF?! That makes it two weeks in a row! Is classic pirate back in fashion this spring?

Sister-girlfriend needs to get some diversity in her wardrobe - know what I'm sayin'?

Without further adieu, let us review the performances. In order of appearance:

(1) Wes jumped out of the blocks with Jumpin' Jack Flash. A perfect adaptation of the swagger of Jagger. He whoopi-ed it in. Hail, hail the Messiah. etc etc.

Forget walking on water, jumping over an entire city is where its at

(2) Roshani sang Wild Horses. Most fondly remembered as the song that was playing during the special rollercoaster ride shared by Reese Witherspoon and Mark Wahlberg in Fear... mmm hmmm. Good times.



Roshani's horses quickly turned into wee little Shetland ponies. Rosh also looks like she had a run in with Edward Scissorhands backstage. I fear it is close to last drinks for this sulty saloon singer.

(3) Luke crooned out another bit of musical diarrhoea. While the hair on his head is doing a slow fade into the realms of his crown, he appears to be trying to compensate by letting his facial hair - dirty mo, chops the size of Texas and gritty stubble - further encroach upon his ugly face. Honky Tonk all the way home to the shearing shed, I say.

Alrighhhhht

(4) While shearer's Star Wars compadre, Jabba, absolutely gutted the song of its oomph and inserted a sense of the spiritual Kumbaya... it wasn't that bad. My ears didn't bleed for once. You Can't Always Get What You Want - however, I think, at least for Teale, you will get what you want for at least another week.

Jabba head

(5) Chris+lyn continues to enhance and expand her vocal range (not to mention her mid section) each week. Get off of my cloud went down with a shake shake shake of those enormous arms and a wobble wobble wobble of those colossal thighs. Dicko picked up on this and likened her to the great Dawn French. I guess I'm not that subtle.

Are those fitballs under your vestment or are you just DDD?

(6) Vin chose to sit and deliver a rock ballad softserve. It was a stellar performance by the resident rock bloke. Only to be outdone by himself, with a tearjerking story about learning Angie the Year Before His Voice Broke, this softserve even had chocolate sprinkles.

The hair do not maketh the man

What did you think?

Well I don't even watch the show.

No, not you. What did everyone else think?

I say: it's time to go Shearer. Roshy will have her sweet yet savoury hide saved for another week. Jabba will round up the bottom 3 but will be put back on the safety couch first.

What kind of world do we live in?

First off, I thought I had better say at the outset that this post will be a bit more highbrow than the last few posts... as... well, this week my posts have been sans on the savant front.

The clerisy are going begging. I apologise.

So here we go...

The US election is hotting up to be a decidedly one-sided affair. But will things be different on Tuesday November 4?

A few of my more skeptical friends tend to always bring up an argument that goes along the lines of this: some people will say to the polling companies that they are voting for Obama on the basis of values and/or policies but when push comes to shove on election day, these people may change their tune purely on the basis that the colour of Barack Obama's skin is different from their own. Such an argument always leaves me dumbstruck. Because what IF it could be true???

Remember me?

And then I see articles that those crazy types that are so set on hegemony and deeply rooted in their own ethnocentric world are currently lying low. It makes my stomach turn.

(Note - the leader's surname is White. Join me in a giggle in exceptionally poor taste).

Let's all hope that a Rosslyn, Virginia situation does not play out in real life and that the white supremacists can muster a small semblance of tolerance on election day.

In other things US election, you can nail your colours firmly to the mast here.

You should also know that McCain has lost his gravy train. It is choo-choo-chooing on to other things GOP-related, like Congress races and moose hunting expeditions.

While the GOP has written off McCain, it doesn't mean you should! Remember that there is only a tenuous link between campaign moula and votes. More $$ does not necessarily mean more votes. It's all about causation. How do you separate the natural aspects of what you like about a candidate (similar views, well-founded policies... dark, handsome good looks) with the unnatural aspects of what you like about a candidate only because you were completely overwhelmed with incessant, in-ya-face advertising. The latter is reliant on money, the former is free.

Steven Levitt, of Freakanomics fame, studied the connection between $$ and votes and concluded:

[T]he amount of money spent by the candidates hardly matters at all. A winning candidate can cut his spending in half and lose only 1 percent of the vote. Meanwhile, a losing candidate who doubles his spending can expect to shift the vote in his favor by only that same 1 percent. What really matters for a political candidate is not how much you spend; what matters is who you are.

To simplify, it will all come down to these two options on election day:

1. Obama is the answer to some of the many problems in this country. I will vote for him.

OR

2. Obama is black. I need to vote for the other guy.

Sad.

The gift of the gab[riella].

After winning every ARIA award possible, Gabriella Cilmi is certainly the talk of the town. Pity she can't even string a decent sentence together.

Where am I again?

First acceptance speech was along the lines of:
"Oh no. I didn't want to win the first one because I was just going to copy what the first award winner said. But now that's me. Weellllllllllllllll I guess thanks to my embarrassing family. They bought a whole table. They do that. And thanks to other people that I can't remember."

And the second:
"Um yeh, cool, thanks again to my family. Thanks to my record company, X, Y, Z. Thanks."

Then:
"Cool, thanks"

And then:
"Well, yeah, thanks"

And then:
"Yo Sydney. Yo."

And then:
"Yo."

Hopefully everyone at the ARIAs was too smashed to notice this pathetically poor phraseology. At least she is hot.

And speaking of young attractive brunettes, the Rice-atron now has a job on Channel 7. She filmed a stint on Better Homes and Blah Blah. What's a bet that's the last we hear from her?

Bye bye little red.

Call her what you will... An undercover ranga. A thinking strumpet (whoops I mean crumpet). A warbler with a half-octave vocal range...

But last night, it was Sophie Paterson that was eliminated from Australian Idol. Can't say it was a big surprise. I am however a little saddened that we have to hear porky Jabba try and belt out another piece of garbage. Nothing short of a shithouse indictment on us all.

But for little Soph, no 007 is a pretty impressive outcome for someone in a singing competition who didn't actually sing properly. (I admit she is not as bad as Lisa I-can-put-an-exaggerated-vowel-sound-in-any-word Mitchell)

Anyhoo, didn't you just lurve her Idol journey video package? From Soph's grass roots of yesterday at the farm in sommawhere'afarrawaaaay:

The hills are alive with the sounds of warbling

To Soph's 'ranga roots of today:

Quick! Where is the platinum coating?

The symbolism is like an onion. Many layers.

Onwards we march to the Opera House steps. We must now band together to ensure that Jabba, Shearer and Marky Mark are turfed next in that particular order.

Vote 191010 Wes.

Duor.

Pictorial representation of how much I saw of last night's episode of Australian Idol:

Mmmm donut

And then today, I tried to listen to the videos on the website but alas, the internet connection is just ridiculously slow. Ang, ang, ang!

A giant FAIL for me.

Say it like you mean it

I did however, see some pictures of Marcia wearing a puffy shirt:

Strut it, work it, own it.

And heard that Chrislyn got a touchdown from Guy Sebastian, the motown guest host. Even though she is having a 'hard time' on the show and was allowed to leave the Idol house to visit fam - "Hamilton was given special permission to travel home to Brisbane to be with her family and friends after concerns were raised that she felt lonely and ostracised from the other contestants." Harden the fuck up - puh-lease!

And Wes/Son of God/Jesus apparently rocked it. Marcia-God said: as a singer, you are a story teller. You tell stories. You have so many textures and colours in your voice. Boyfriend you have it down pat.

I shall save this show from' jumping the shark' if its the last thing I do.

Anyway, on the basis of next to zero knowledge, I hope Teale/Jabba, Monkton no 2 and Shearer are in the bottom 3. With Teale to go buy-bye.

NES is still King

I found THE coolest thing in a shop on Carlisle St, St Kilda yesterday.

Is it better than this?

Yes! Yes it really is better. Much better.

It is a Super Mario Bros keyring:

OMG - you so have to tell me all about it

OK - as you can see it has six buttons for six evocative sounds: coin, jump, 1-up, mushroom, start of level and game over.

As critics have said: simply press a button and you'll be transported back to the Mushroom Kingdom faster than you can say 'Mamma mia, dezza King Koopa widda da Princess Toadstool.'

Bless.

Mario: inspiring plumbers everywhere (including Joe from Ohio)

The potential for comedy with this little red device is truly unlimited. From this moment forward, my conversations will be punctuated by a sound made famous by the greatest 8-bit sidescroller game EVER. You have been warned.

Missions will be announced with an upbeat 'do do do duh da do do dooo' Insults will be capped off with a clanging 'thingfuh, do do do duh duh doooooddduuuuh'. Good calls will be given a respectful 'duh di di di.'

And a nice added touch is that the batteries are the same as those that were used in the Nintendo 'Game and Watch' handhelds.

Battery nostalgia

My life is now complete.

US debate - the final showdown.

The third and final debate kicked off at Hofstra University in Long Island, New York on Thursday 12pm AEST.

Did I hear my name being mentioned?

At the beginning, the focus was on the economy. McCain put down a serious and consistent message. Whether you agree with him or not, he certainly made his points clear. Obama started off a bit 'flat' by his standards. Answering the questions and reeling off the talking points, without going further than what was required.

So I guess after the worm was at an all time high for McCain, he switched to attacking Obama.

While McCain had a brilliant anecdote about a guy named Joe, a plumber in Ohio, and how his business would be screwed over by Obama's tax plan. McCain then managed to overdo it and it was just another cliché (see also drill baby drill). His attacks from that point on sounded a bit desperate and unfounded. In response, Obama cited his views in a clear manner and justified any misconceptions which had given McCain fodder to make the attacks in the first place.

McCain then just looked like an angry old man who had lost his mind. Ayers, Acorn associations - clear non-issues compared with the economy. The voting on a bill that "was against afterbirth care for failed abortions" - absolute bullsh!t.

But the weird thing was, Obama would outline a policy, which actually could have been tactically argued against, but instead McCain chose to focus on petty character jibes. WHYYYYYYY? Perhaps he had a script and was unable to deliver something sensible off the cuff? Perhaps his prep team are conspiring against him? (Indeed rumour had it that Joe was not even registered to vote, although now it appears he is registered under a slight misspelling of his name.)

God only knows.

Exactly.

Now as they say, a picture can tell a thousand words... particularly when there are around a thousand words in the picture. Let us now examine some word clouds from the third debate between Barack 'everything I say is edifying' Obama and John 'everything I say is jabberwocky' McCain.

First, Barack:


Second, John:
After finally getting the Java Applet thingy work, I say thank you dear wordle.

As you can see from the word clouds, there are some key differences. If you look quite closely, you can see 'John' in BO's cloud but no corresponding 'Barack' in JMc's cloud.

Health is more important to Obama. Campaign is more important to McCain. Taxes/tax is equal.

BO's key words from the debate were = think, people, now and make. JMc's were = America, need, now and Joe. So if we say the two 'nows' cancel each other out. We have 'make people think' vs America need Joe.'

Sorry Joe, I don't think so.

In sum, Obama came across as a statesman, a gentleman. He has a vision for the US. He was the winner. McCain came across as fairly out of touch, sounding very much like Nelson from The Simpsons. He needs vision correction. He was the loser.

Pretty much sums it up really

So the question to now ask is: how much would Obama have to fuck it up to lose?

That is all.

Reading between the lines.

Whether its the scintillating plot, the exquisitely crafted descriptions or the hauntingly familiar characters, I think we can all agree that a good book is an absolute joy. In this vein, let us say a quick congrats to Aravind Adiga for winning the 2008 Man Booker Prize.

Despite all of the above, I'm going to confess to you now that I do sometimes enjoy a book solely for its cover. Shallow, isn't it? I do not think that this signifies that I am a vacuous human being. Instead, I think it means I can appreciate the simpler (yet somewhat shinier) things in life.

Book covers can be incredibly exciting. Whether its the pithy blurb, the fancy imagery or a combination of the two, some book covers can be celebrated in their own right as artistic wonders.

Let me back this up with five shining examples.

No 5: Reluctant Partners.

Allie is pictured here with a lovely long rod and appears to have a peculiar penchant for Kraft cheese. No wonder poor Cooper has his reservations!

No 4: Think like a cat: How to raise a well-adjusted cat, not a sour puss

From the best-selling author of Twisted Whiskers, comes the soon-to-be perennial feline favourite:

Not only will you be a cat whisperer upon reading, you will be able to slowly replicate the blow-dried chunky fringe as modelled by Mrs Red Turtleneck. Bonus!

No 3: Preparing for Adolescence

This had me at 'an 8-tape package'. Amazzzzzzzzing.

I also would like to learn how to straddle road signs with the ease that this kid does it. It's a thing I have.

No 2: Arnold's Bodybuilding for Men

Arnie before he got all political invites us to come on a bodybuilding journey:

I think we can all agree that this belongs in a museum.

No 1: Anybody can be cool... but awesome takes practice

Author of "If god loves me, why can’t I get my locker open".

I rest my case.