Wednesday, December 23, 2009

2009. It's hard to go past this as the best part of the year.

My fellow citizens:

I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors. I thank President Bush for his service to our nation, as well as the generosity and co-operation he has shown throughout this transition.

Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because we the people have remained faithful to the ideals of our forbearers, and true to our founding documents.

So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans.

That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age. Homes have been lost; jobs shed; businesses shuttered. Our health care is too costly; our schools fail too many; and each day brings further evidence that the ways we use energy strengthen our adversaries and threaten our planet.

These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable but no less profound is a sapping of confidence across our land - a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, and that the next generation must lower its sights.

Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America - they will be met.

On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.

On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics.

We remain a young nation, but in the words of scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.

In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of short-cuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the faint-hearted - for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things - some celebrated but more often men and women obscure in their labor, who have carried us up the long, rugged path towards prosperity and freedom.

For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and travelled across oceans in search of a new life.

For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and ploughed the hard earth.

For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sahn.

Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction.

This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions - that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.

For everywhere we look, there is work to be done. The state of the economy calls for action, bold and swift, and we will act - not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together. We will restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology's wonders to raise health care's quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age. All this we can do. And all this we will do.

Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions - who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.

What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them - that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works - whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. And those of us who manage the public's dollars will be held to account - to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day - because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.

Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control - and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favours only the prosperous. The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our Gross Domestic Product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on our ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart - not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good.

As for our common defence, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals. Our Founding Fathers, faced with perils we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations. Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience's sake. And so to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman, and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.

Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.

We are the keepers of this legacy. Guided by these principles once more, we can meet those new threats that demand even greater effort - even greater co-operation and understanding between nations. We will begin to responsibly leave Iraq to its people, and forge a hard-earned peace in Afghanistan. With old friends and former foes, we will work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat, and roll back the specter of a warming planet. We will not apologise for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defence, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you.

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus - and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.

To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West - know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.

To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us today, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages. We honour them not only because they are guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service; a willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves. And yet, at this moment - a moment that will define a generation - it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all.

For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.

Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends - hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism - these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility - a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.

This is the price and the promise of citizenship.

This is the source of our confidence - the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.

This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed - why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall, and why a man whose father less than sixty years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.

So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are and how far we have travelled. In the year of America's birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood. At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:

"Let it be told to the future world ... that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive ... that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet (it)."

America. In the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

The power of zoom is a beautiful thing

Under the kangaroo - an interesting take on Minter Ellison's way of doing business.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Did you know?

That I am bored. I am not a good bored person. Probably one of the worst.


I have to do things, not just be surrounded in them. I like action, not inaction.

Reading the Internet, buying tickets to summer festivals, looking at buying books and t-shirts ---which is really a must with the dollar so strong---are done, done, done.

Now what?

I am so bored, I am not even inspired. I had several strands of things to blog about halfway into the can in China/Bali but now they have slipped out of my tiny bored little mind.

The task I have set for myself to occupy the next 2 minutes is to memorise how to spell Lake Chargoggagoggmachauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg. It is a reaaaaaal place. I am not making it up!

What an ungainly moniker if I ever saw one. Needless to say, this water body had the longest place name in the US. I say had because they have since changed the name to the more tongue friendly Webster Lake.

Chargoggagoggmachauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg means the fishing place at the boundary between territories.

Quite fetching.

So I shall test myself on the spelling of Lake C later today. It will help slow the brain rot.

Apologies to the fans that have been waiting for something brilliant to send their nethers into the land of sweet, soft tingles. It is coming. Watch this space!

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Barbie's fun house.

The ultimate pleasure palace.



Kid A: Wo xiang mai ma. Duoshao quian?
Owner: Zhe bugui. Yibai million yuan.
Kid A: Tai gue le.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Surfin' on a rock-ette with Idol.

Last Sunday was allegedly a display of 11 singers belting out some rockin' rock hits. I don't know about you but I thought it was the musical equivalent of a herd of cows depositing collective runny foecal output after gorging themselves on a particularly large grassy meadow.

*Sigh*

It soon became clear that I heard better renditions of the salt and pepper in the rock recipe - Jet and Muse - the last time I was at Charlton's.

But here we are. After last's week fairly solid set of performances, I thought these puppies were thrown down.

I think you'll find that these were merely placed here

To open proceedings on rock nite, we kicked out the suburban sweetheart, Ashleigh. She was in the bottom 3 along with Jimmy Donovan and Christian Tim. Kid A's tipping of 2 out of 3 was not bad. Not bad at all.

The judges were a little sad about this with the exception of the Marcia-God. She was wearing a fashion tribute to her favourite band, Banarama. Her face was puckered tightly and so she looked like a stone gargoyle. Perhaps too much botox this week sister-girlfriend?

Our special guest this week was Suzi Q. We drove down Devil Gate Drive... in a horse and cart. What was particularly scary about this performance was Suze's leather coated camel toe. I think she needed to say goodbye to the spray on onesie in the mid 90s and the moul-et. The hair took up half the stage by itself.
You don’t do rock n roll – it does you;
similarly - you don't do mullets - they do you.


Given things were so lacking musically, I will not dwell on the performances too long. Perhaps the distinct absence of a porcine prince or princess is what's to blame? Confucius say: shallow pipes do not maketh the rock lord.

  1. Hayley Warner Bros - she did work it. Sadly it resembled a Yooralla ad more closely than a video clip.
  2. Jimmy Donovan - well, let's not talk about the singing because words can't describe how lame and shithouse it was. However, did you see the bevy of tatts adorning his buff arms? The most interesting one was on his inner right arm. I swear I saw three chests from the Totem Treasure slot machine. Is your gambling ruining your life? I think so. Please don't ruin mine any longer!
  3. Kate was 'under' Cook-ed. Query her true sexual preferences - man, woman or cow?
  4. Nathan put the brakes on his shimmies (thank God). There is a lot more left in his Idol tank though so he'll be baaaaaaaack.
  5. Toby did turn into a beetroot when he mused his way through Starlight. The band was shocking. Horrendous. The textured sounds of that song were being played from a little kids Casio piano... or the back of a Tibetan tin bucket.
  6. Tim was worst on ground. He tried very hard but yeah nah. Soz. It's a pity that moths ate his shirt in the green room backstage too.
  7. Sabrina Teenage Witch unleashed another round of screech. There was some emotions and tears and blah and blah. Not too bad. Kudos from the judges
  8. James is like a chia pet - he grows about a mm each week. I did like this. He reminds me of Peter Pan.
  9. Scott is so comfortable, he starting off dozing on the stage. The DJ scratching during this song was just embarrassingly bad. The singing was average. It's a good thing he's so hot. He'll get through to next week.
  10. Kim - would you stop singing like you are an American - Cooper. Act your race please.
  11. Stan - you brought Metallica to Idol. A+ for attitude and effort. But you are sadly, not a patch on James Hetfield.
Bottom 3 is likely to Jimmy 'One Eyed Jack' Doona, Praise the Lord Timmy & ... possibly controversial... Nathan Brakes Plus.

Next week we have Mr Goodrem join us. Please tell me the theme is going to be... TV jingles. Yeah!

The possibilities are exciting:
  • Doors Plus, no fuss.
  • Go Harvey, Go Harvey, Go Harvey Norman! Go!
  • Around the block, 13 cabs... 13 cabs, 13 cabs, 13 cabs
  • Lubemobile, the mobbbbbbile mechanics
  • Victory, victory, the winning blinds, 13 13 99
  • Clive Peeeters, e, e, eeeeeasy
  • Keep your eyes open for a barrrrrgain, CAR CITY!
  • Come in and see the good good good guys, pay cash and we'll slash the prices
  • Ray's Tent City, come see what we've got, from tents to barbeques, we've got the lot
  • And my personal fav: Call call carpet call, the experts in the trade
Ta ta.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Down to The Wire

As I am about to lend all my DVDs of this fine show to my bestie's housemate, I thought it was time to pay homage to the sheer excellence that is The Wire.


*SPOILER ALERT - I WILL RUIN EVERYTHING FOR YOU IF YOU READ ON!!!*

The Wire is one of HBO's finest offerings. An absolute marvel. It outpaces, outstrips, outdoes The Shield (sorry Vic Mackey, you are not a patch on everyone's favourite alcoholic, two marriages down the gurgler, trouble making cop Jimmy McNulty) and it makes those other cop shows - NCIS/CSI/NYPD Blue/Law & Order - look like Funniest Home Videos where no one laughs, let alone watches.

The opening credits are cinematic gems in and of themselves. Each series has the same title track - Way Down in the Hole by Tom Waits. 'When you walk through the garden, you better watch your back.'

The only common part of the opening title sequence across the five seasons is the rock thrown at the CCTV camera (which I imagine took about 835 takes to get right, but gee its good) and the shot of the alley with the graffiti - Body-More # Murdaland (where # is a big bullet).

As for the actual TV show? It is centred on a wire tap. Hence the name. It is about cops and criminals but it stands above other TV shows of the same ilk. In fact it is probably a genre on to itself. There is no solving of cases every episode with the typical twist - he/she did it, oh no hang on, the least likely person to do it actually did it. There is none of that.

It isn't about black and white; it isn't about good and bad. There are contradictions in terms – a sharp cop that doesn’t just flout authority but writes his own rule book; a drug kingpin that is studying for his MBA and trying to use his economic skills to secure his gang’s long term future; a gay criminal that steals from drug dealers like a modern day Robin Hood and a dobbing junkie who has a sharp mind, who is able to quickly discern what a drug gang's next move will be, and curiously, has a heart of gold.

It is about the game in the dirty streets of Baltimore.
Select a player

It is realism at its finest. The hierarchical system is explored, its flaws exposed; from the drug kingpin down to the corner boy, from the Mayor and the Chief Police Commissioner down to the cop on the beat.

The dialogue in The Wire is raw street. Sometimes it is a little hard to understand but a few oft used phrases are as follows:
  • In the game = selling drugs to make a living.
  • Ya feel me? = do you know what I mean?
  • Most def = absolutely, for sure; literally the abbreviation of most definitely.
  • Hamsterdam = selling drugs in a three block by three block area where the cops don't care.
  • Real po - leece = a cop that actually does police work.
  • Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittttttttttttttttttt = Clay Davis is having a bad day.
  • What the fuck did I do? = McNulty did something that the bosses don't like... again.

In detail - let's take it season by season.

Season 1 was the more traditional set up – cops vs. drug dealers. The cops didn't know their own beats. The kingpins and corner boys exploited this. Enter one smart cop. Enter wire tap. Intercepting and interpreting codes and secrets leads to a big scalp but not without blurring the lines between right and wrong.

Season 2 focused on the corruption down at the docks. The head union official would stop at nothing to stave off the developers who wanted to turn his port into a condominium paradise. Wheeling and dealing with criminals was seen as a necessity to reverse the port’s declining fortunes. There was camaraderie amongst the wharfies until the bitter end. This season also zeroed in on the emerging drug war – east vs west. Two drug gangs battle for more turf and, in turn, more profits.

Season 3 sees the drug war that commenced in Season 2 escalate. The interim solution to the war is somewhat surprising – a drug co-op. A pooling of resources, a sharing of the (stolen) wealth. The political element also comes into play in this season — a Mayor is running for Governor and several city councillors are running for Mayor, who all need the city to look its best. Some are comfortable with the mere façade that things are getting better, some want real change. It's interpreted by the cops as the former - the cops cook the books so the crime rate comes down. One rogue, adventurous cop tries something entirely different to decrease the crime rate --- legalises drugs in a certain area. While creates a microcosm of depravity, he is successful in cleaning up the rest of the city. But this bizarre brand of socialism does not last. The status quo ultimately prevails as all parties to the drug war appear to have a vested interest in preserving it.

Season 4 taps into the fallibilities of the public school system. Again, the focus is on statistics. One teacher tries to make a difference before falling into the mould and teaching the ‘answers’ to the state school proficiency test. It's the only way to ensure the numbers are met so the funding dollars roll in. And then we find out, it’s all in vain. The best and brightest students are cherry picked by drug kingpins and their lieutenants as future mid level management. Meanwhile, the new drug lord exterminates anyone who gets in his way leaving body after body to rot in vacant houses. The cops pull things together at the end as a new Mayor is elected.

Finally, season 5 shows that there is corruption in those who are supposed to be the monitors of corruption - the Baltimore Sun and the Baltimore Police Department. At the Baltimore Sun, cutting employee numbers and budgets has led to sloppy, lazy journalism. There are very few left at the paper that keep an eye on the details and in turn, effect any meaningful change in society by keeping readers informed. At the cop shop, budgets are also taking their toll meaning no real police work is being done. This season is about a journo's aggressive pursuit of a Pulitzer, fabricating details in news stories just so he has a chance of fame. It's also about a cop's aggressive pursuit of criminals, falsifying evidence around murders to ensure that the real bad guys end up in jail.

A+++

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Blood sugar sex idol

Welcome back!

Good to be here

Not you Billy, the Australian variety.

That's right folks. Last Sunday night, almost a week ago now, I turned once again to the Idol chapter in my television book.

The last of the top 12 was finalised with little pomp and circumstance. The G-banger swiftly introduced Toby (hot school teacher who has one of the weakest voices in the competition) and Hayley (already tipped by yours truly for a podium finish) as the 9th and 10th place getters in the top 12.

The judges then put in Casey (oh so now we know he is one eye blind, thanks Channel 10) and Tim (nice enough but meh enough to only last a few weeks).

Ashleigh was first with “Miss Independent”. Ashleigh is 17 going on 42. The band were nothing short of shite - there were some gratey synth noises coming from all instruments except the drums. This exposed to us all that the loss of everyone's favourite muppet, John Foreman, has been immeasurable. Ashleigh has that mainstream shopping centre look and feel. But the sound is more Vanessa Amorosi 2.0, also adept at working the stage at Knifepoint or even worse, Fountain Hate. Let's hope she brings out the Black Velvet to show us that she can run the full Myle.
She could be my daughter.

Then we had Scott. Curious back story - 'no one has ever heard him sing'. I think the appeal lies in the 'this could be me' part of the equation..............

Anyway, Scott sang "Come Together". I've got to say that he is a quadruple threat - hot, fit, can sing and can put his brick anywhere. I feel like I want to do things in a feverish passion when he is around - I'm Rebecca Mornay to a breast pump in the Hand that Rocks the Cradle.
Text Scott to 191010

Casey (Donovan/Jimmy) Barnes went full tilt on the Powderfinger pedal with “On My Mind”. I didn't really feel the connection. Dicko did try and cross examine him, trying to pull out the strand of uniqueness that he would need to show Australian teenagers aged circa 13 to 15 to get some votes. I suspect that everyone's favourite blind Idol will be ousted fairly quickly.

Make that second favourite, Berns here is always no 1 to me.


Hayley Warner sang “Light Surrounding You” by Evermore. And her parents are butchers. Snap to that. The Marcia-God pulled out some stock comments - 'you know darling, that is one of my favourite songs of all time. Well done darling. Well done' - so this leads me to believe that Kim is on Marcia's hit list in '09 (it's always someone).


James dribbled out The Fray’s “How To Save A Life”. James is the 09 version of Dean Geyer - except without the backflips. I don't know if he can cut the mustard week in, week out. I will refrain from otherwise paying him out whilst the talent jury is still out.


Sabrina Teenage Psycho Bitch screeched like a wailing banshee through MJ's “Earth Song”. Dicko doesn't know who she is but one thing is clear - she is fucking nuts. And she looks like she might get the fangs out soon. Stay in your houses people!


Nathan sang “Stop and Stare”. Clinical. Next.


Stan literally held his hand up as an “Umbrella” whilst he sang the Rihanna song of the same name. Stan is clearly the judges favourite. Marcia gushed - I love hearing you sing, that's why you sing. No actually - it's not always about you Marcia, you self-absorbed FREAK!

Become one with the umbrella-ella-ella-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh.


Toby creeped it up. I felt like I was at the Arcadia after 12 pots but at least radiohead was on Idol - whoop!

Now painted blue and white to support Geelong - brick by brick.


Kim Cooper gave us her best whilst singing the Foo Fighters' “Best Of You”. And Kim has her tale of woe (bipolar daddy-o) but would prefer to focus on the here and now. Gosh, that's almost... completely sensible! And yes, watch this space --> not since the times of yore when Chanel Cole graced the Idol stage and purred out sex kitten-ish, Portishead-ish goodness has Marcia shown such scorn towards another female contestant. Time will tell whether Kim takes the cake from CC.


Tim whimpered out "Halo" for the attuned. Then openly praised Jesus for any American viewers. Not a total car crash. But a little dent in the rear fender. More choir boy than Jesus Christ Superstar.


Kate Cook got “Stuck In The Middle With You” and it was OK. Her country shirt is taking over from where the hat ends. This may mean that next week she dresses up as a hay bale.

Yeehaw.


Tips for bottom 3 = Casey, Tim and James. Casey to get the boot.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Come and fucking get it.

With Peter Russell Clarke.

Ah the early childhood memories of his 5 minute show on the ABC with the catchy jingle (and the not-so-distant memories of Dave, WSO and I trying to remember the jingle in its entirety during our la road trip in France):

Come and get it, come and get it, with Peter Russell Clarke

In the city or the outback, he’s Australia’s brightest spark

Come and get it, come and get it, good food you’ll love to eat

Come and get it, come and get it, and there’s people you can meet.

Key change

Cook a shark or make a damper


Feed your ego or pack a hamper

On a farm or out at sea

Learn a recipe or threeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Key change

Come and get it with Peter - G’Day - Russell - G’Day - Claaaaaarke…

G’Day, today we are going to sample this fucking ridiculous hamper... etc etc.

And just now I received his fabulous blooper reel in HD:



Quite.

The simple things in life are often the best.

And I'm not just talking about Kelloggs Cornflakes (which interestingly are not available in Bangalore, India, so my friend proposes to smuggle over a carton to sell on the black market in a week's time)...

I'm talking about what I saw on the weekend for the very first time --> the new main title of the The Simpsons:



While I have recently embraced Blu-Ray - Planet Earth and Band of Brothers have never made for finer viewing - I am not happy with the way Matt Groening et al have implemented the shift to HD.

My main beef with the new title sequence is that it has too many bells and whistles. If you pause at the minute mark, you will see all the key characters that had not yet featured in this overdone, overcooked and over the fucking top title sequence - including Ralph playing on a grave (WTF), Patty & Selma Bouvier sunbaking (EEEW) and, among a plethora of stupid jokes, Snake stealing Lou's gun (lame!)

To the creators of The Simpsons. Self-flagellation = overdue.

It's a meeeeee, Mario.


Charles Martinet, the voice of Mario, was in town yesterday. And I can't help but feel disappointed knowing that he is just a short, middle aged, borderline ambino man. I guess I just thought it was some clever computer animation.

Monday, August 31, 2009

Riding the Idol love boat or sinking on the Idol Titanic?

I'll go with the latter

I did not see very much of the Idol Wild card show, but I saw enough to want to: (a) drive nails deep into my ocular sockets to block out the lame stage work from most of them, the scary eyes of a 'killer' in Casey and Ed Zaidan's ridiculously large nostrils/large lips/clown-like appearance; and (b) do a Van Gogh - cut off the (Lisa) lobes and drink a quart of Turps before being committed - just to get away from the TT-FM-esque efforts of Aliqua, Lauren, Tenielle and Toby.

So that leaves us with Lucie, Tim and Hayley as dead certs because they were the three that did not make me want to violate myself in a horrific fashion. And then flip a coin for Casey and Ed - perhaps Casey just to show that you do not need to be a Doona-van to have some serious lung action.

Sigh.

Where have the good times gone?
Standing L to R - Rhys from SYTYCD, some girl overly festooned with red lippy, Wes from Oz Idol 2008, some upherselfbiatch, some cute little Italian girl.
Sitting L to R - Boy who can't stand anymore because he was Johnny Young's favourite singer.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

What grinds my gears #7 - family quirks

Insanity runs in my family. It practically gallops. Wise words from the great Cary Grant in Arsenic and Old Lace.

Well I can certainly vouch for that. My family is INSANE. In the membrane. In the BRAIN.
OK - perhaps we are a little less insane than this fam.

Leaving my sibling aside (I'm not in the business of dishing out cheap shots), my parents are nuts. They are crazy in the coconut.

First, my mother. She is just a weird egg. She has the capacity to careen wildly from happiness to sadness to sheer madness in two seconds or less. One must carefully navigate her mood by ensuring that she doesn't drift off into the 56th tangent of a story or worse, end stories with 'let's just bomb the entire Middle East' or 'we need a good war to get rid of all the dickheads' or something else horrendously offensive.

It is quite the chore to carefully drive her back into neutral conversational territory again and again. Managing my mother in a public forum is an even more exhausting enterprise that can only be embarked upon... once a week for 30 minutes or you can save it up for a fortnightly or monthly outing, where you've got a few hours before you start to claw at the walls and shout like a hyena.

And it's quite common across her family - all 7 of her siblings suffer from frequent foot in mouth.

My aunty recently visited our house for the first time and said:

"Kid A, I like your house but I prefer to live in mine."

Difficult to take that without laughing too hard. Meanwhile, WSO was noiselessly laughing hysterically in the study at the thought of a house swap with the dear old bird.

My late uncle had a penchant for blending certain petroleum products with his liver - metho and coke being a speciality. And he was ever the salesman, first handbags, then aboriginal art and relics. I'll never forget the Christmas where he brought three didgeridoos along. Two of my cousins and I spent an hour slobbering down them. He then went on to tell us that our technique was wrong, he was of course the expert after spending three weeks in some village in Arnhem Land. While he could produce some sort of a noise, he almost had several cardiac arrests doing so!

Anyway, back to the main game. Mother bear. Here are some peculiarities that are not known to be present in any other living species apart from my mother:
  • Mixing two instant coffee varieties together - Nescafe Blend 43 is too strong, whilst International Roast is too weak so voila, a 50:50 mix is the ultimate in instantio caffe.
  • Having a back up pantry in case of World War III or an outbreak of a raging virus or plague - essentially this means you will always have two of everything. For example, if you finish off the Vegemite jar, Mum will transfer the new jar from the back up pantry and write 'Vegemite' on the shopping list to replace in the back up pantry usually within a 24 hour period.
  • Saving money in a 'secret' compartment of her purse - where secret is the second most common area to put notes. In this part of her purse, you will typically find one or two greenies and half a dozen pineapples.
  • Not throwing out any old calendars or cards - that get well card I made with macaroni in Grade 2 was still in the drawer the last time I looked. I thought best not tell her, she might put it up on the wall! And don't even get me started about the calendar from 1986... Pope John Paul II's second papal visit was interesting at the time yes, now we've got the Emperor Benedict. Move on!
  • Speaking of calendars, another one is fixing the weekly culinary calendar - dinner was certainly not like a box of chocolates when I was growing up. Monday = Spaghetti or Lasagne. Tuesday = Dad cooks = something spicy like Sambal, Thai Curry, Spanish Paella. Sometimes Chicken Cacciotore etc. Wednesday = meat portion, three vegie portions. Thursday = casserole/mystery box food/splod. Friday = fish n chips like any good Catholics, sometimes pizza if Mum was not there. Saturday = roast. Sunday = pancake/omelette/the typical 3 minute CBF meal.
As for my father, well he has probably what is called 'second order madness' from living with my kooky mother. He is slowly eating his way through the world, one HJ's burger at a time. Big heart. Hopefully not on the verge of a big heart attack.

In his interactions with yours truly, he is like a stuffed toy with a voice box - only capable of three catch phrases - 'yeah, yeah, yeah', 'ask your mother' and 'how much do you want this time?'

But to his credit, he works harder than anyone I've seen and can take nagging like no other.

Sigh. So there you have it. That's the pez. But I do love them, you know.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Every year I try to get out, but it keeps pulling me back in...


Here we are once again in everyone's favourite land at the top of the Faraway Tree - Idol land.

There are some differences - we've lost the Angry Pixie in Kyle Sandilands, for example. The sub from the bench - Mr Watzisname / Jay Dee Springbett - appears to have coped well with a new gig being foisted upon him quicker than you can say 'clause 4.3 gives us the right to terminate your contract Kyle'.

Dicko (Moon Face) and Marcia God (Silky) have come out of the cryogenic deep freezer to join us once more for a turn around the Idol d-floor.

I'm slowly familiarising myself with the singing landscape through the semi-final series. Unfortunately, I missed a few of the earlier episodes when we went around the cities. But that's OK, the same tired recipe continues to be dished up year after year. Key ingredients include:
  • Snippets of fat people/ugly people/transvestites/people with three teeth/people who have literally just stepped out of Revolver after a large Sunday sesh - building them up to be Idol hopefuls. Then of course, their delusions of grandeur become suddenly apparent and it turns out they've never sung in their lives except in front of their 15 cats and/or mother who has a monobrow and a hearing aid and they sound like a screeching parakeet being hit by a B-double truck.
  • Candidates that come with a 5 to 10 minute back story, where the prospect of suspense is completely eliminated (I mean, are they really going to send a camera man out to film some sheila in Tatura cutting up a pig with her bare hands if she didn't get in the bloody top 100? We are not stupid Channel 10!)
  • Sob stories aplenty from the tuneful types - "I'm doing this for (Mum/Aunt Jess/the lady from the tram who smiled at me nicely) because they have helped me believe in myself and regain confidence after I suffered from extreme (depression/anorexia/pain from my ingrown toenail leading to a wedge resection that I even had a general anaesthetic for) and now they are (dead/in hospital/in jail/at home watching this TV show) so I'm doing it for them", complete with the use of three tissues to wipe away that runny mascara. Where the sob story is particularly painful or a 5 out of 5 on the sob-alicious scale - it will be topped off with a there-there, pat-pat hug from the Marcia God.
  • Minimum or no camera time for the eventual top 12. (At least, Channel 10 realise we'll be watching those initial auditions circa 85 times, so best keep them in the backpocket until at least next week.)
Given the above, I was reluctant to rouse from my state of slumber and ennui to once again pay homage to the Idol juggernaut, or at the very least, reach for the remote and change the channel to Channel 10. I guess the prospect of sipping on another year of proverbial dregs was too much to bear. I mean how many times do we hear from Andrew G: This top 100/top 24/top 12/group of singers/talent is better than all previous years.

If it looks like Kyle Sandilands, and it walks like Kyle Sandilands, it's probably not George Clooney, you know what I'm sayin' sista darlin' girlfriend/boyfriend?

After last night though, I have returned to the fruity lexi-licious beveraaaage that is Idol. Too sweet, too cheap and totally overconsumed. But I love it anyway.

And what a semi! Talent check. Tuneless twangs check. Working the stage check. Dancing like a brick check. Self-aggrandising behaviour check. Ridiculous attire check. Marcia not making sense check. Subdued Dicko check. Other guy having no personality to speak of check.

Oh Idol, how I love thee. Now I know that from August to November, you will show me and my friends a good time. Our hearts will go pitter patter, we will go weak at the knees, our palms will get sweaty and we will constantly be thinking about you ravishing us. Take us away on your loveboat Idol!

I shall arrange the performances on a spectrum of meh to hell yeah. There are four groupings:

Toby Moulton + Kate Cook

Toby is a nice guy but, you know, he warbled over the words at times. He barely went for the high notes. O-R-D-I-N-A-R-Y. Sorry - you are nice but you are just soooooo damn ORDINARY. Remember the days of the old school yard? Well don't worry, you'll be going back there soon enough.
I choo-choo-choose you to leave Tobs.

Kate's Mum 'offed' herself when she was a young teen. That is truly sad. However, there can no excuse for that denim disaster that was adorning her thickset thighs. And the hat and the dancing. WTF? Please. I'm sorry. Get off my TV. Go directly back to the farm. Do not pass GO. Do not collect $200.
Kate in 40 years time

A LARGE ENOUGH GAP TO 'MIND'

Seth Drury + Jamila Ioane

Sethy poos is back for another shot at the Idol title. Not bad. Not great. But not bad. Is it just me or does Seth look like BJ from SYTYCD Australia II? He was also a second time lucky kinda guy. And maybe if you drink three bottles of red, tilt your head to one side and squint ever so slightly, Seth looks like Seth from the OC? No? OK then. It is just me.


3 Seths.

Jamila 'Ultramonster' Ioane. Sista girlfriend worked that stage and belted like a 32inch, extra studded belt. But I just find her vibe done, done, done like a piece of steak that has been cooking for the entire length of The Passion of the Christ. Jamila = Paulini = Jessica Mauboy = Emily Williams = Lavina Williams = Serena Williams... the list goes on as long as Gee-.

Raaaaaah

BIGGER GAP WHERE A BRIDGE MAY NEED TO BE BUILT

Stan Walker

Star quality. Even if he does love Jesus and Jesus loves him, I am of the firm opinion that Stan rocks. And let's face it, Christian rock is where all the money is these days anyway. Ching ching. (On that note, if I hear one more rendition of the Kings of Zion, I mean Leon, I will bite the head off a small kitten. You have been warned.)

A CHASM THE SIZE OF TEXAS

Hayley Warner

Hello top 5. Here you come my pretty.
Of the semi, at least.

Let's just see how my predictions play out tonight. I am hopeful.

As for tonight, I can't wait to smoke, I mean watch, sweet Marijana roll up a few grams of her sweetest song.
Tasty.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Loveable lookalikes II.

Show us your red Mitsubishi blanky

Sunday, August 9, 2009

G-rated insults for Kyle Sandilands

1. He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to a dictionary.
2. He never opens his mouth without subtracting from the knowledge pool of the universe.
3. He is a self-made man and worships his creator.
4. He has delusions of adequacy.
5. He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire.
Shot through the heart – and you’re to blame!
You even give the term 'stupid fuckwit' a bad name.

UGHHHHHHH.

Friday, July 31, 2009

Doing it diagonal

Fashion trends change, but preppy boys endure.

Donning the most classic threads in pretty-boy pastels has been a time honoured tradition for your typical upper class wanker WASP. Your local grammar boy fancies his fair share of nancy (boy) attire.

And why? Well it's clear that an upturned collar on one's treasured Ralph Lauren polo top is sure to get the girls. But teaming it with some tan coloured boat shoes and some dressy chinos? That's sure to get the boys.

Quite.

However, I am glad to say that after 50 or so years, the traditional interpretation of the knotted jumper over the shoulders has been radically re-cast.

In 2009, we're doing it diagonal. Oh yes, that's right. My time up in Sydney was memorable in a lot of ways but the official outing of the 'diagonal preppy' brought a tear to my eye.

This twist on the 50s iconic "mode of jumper/sweater wearing" will live a long life, I'm sure.

Enjoy.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Masterchef has jumped the shark at the last.

Last night, Masterchef Australia was a complete JOKE.

It bounded over the superorder selachimorpha in one fell swoop:

This phenomenon occurred with the elimination of Chris I'm-kind-of-a-big-deal Badenoch.

Julie's emotional plea juxtaposed against Chris's arrogant I-want-to-win-so-I-can-say-I'm-a-winner diatribe shows that you don't even have to be that talented to ensure your dreams can come true. One small tug of the proverbial heart strings means you not only send a solid fist up Chris's special enclave designed to be the outlet for no 2s, but get the chance to win when you SUCK.

Julie did not even FINISH the challenge. She made BORING BORING BORING meals. It should have been an open and shut case - bye bye Julie, 38, IT Consultant from NSW.

But instead, that piffle about an empty last chapter - pfffffft - in conjunction with the 'my sons will be shown unequivocally that you can achieve your dreams' got her over the line. And there was some seriously bizarre chemistry between Jules and Donna you-are-a-thieving-money-hungry-bitch Hay.

WHYYYYYYYY did this happen?

Julie has barely scraped through all week. She has been lucky that someone has stuffed up even more than her - Lucas, Julia and then I'm-still-coping-with-her-elimination-and-in-therapy Justine. Apart from Chris's Malaysian vomit-titous disaster, he has won or come second all week. Showing that he can mix it with the best of them and making desserts that are not meant to be baked by human beings. He may be arrogant but he can back it up.

And in terms of growth over the time in the Masterchef kitchen, Chris HAS. While he has been meat + beer-centic, he has evolved. Last night he put up three interesting dishes with twists that combine his old flames and his flashy, new techniques. As did Poh's art-astic 100 year old egg and dumplings and swampy green goop (although this is not without its issues - see below), coupling colour with sheer stinkiness... and somehow making it taste quite unlike a public toilet with 5L of diarrheoa. Kudos.

But what did Julie cook? A lamb roast. Pedestrian cuisine. Even I, the cooking-free individual, think that is bloody shit.


Well yes, it's still preferable to a date with couch jumping scientologists.


Let us review the brief. DH says - it has to be lickable, it had to be about presentation and about innovation.

I ask you this Australia: How is same old, same old lamb roast innovative? How is flourless chocolate cake without any sauce or cream 'lickable'? How is chicken with pistachio nuts in it presentable to someone that wants to actually STAY AWAKE for more than one second?

Whilst Chris might have had some taste issues with his dishes, there should have been some recognition that he used those weird pressure cooker things. And was just generally awesome over the last two months.

As noted above, another point of: WHYYYYYYYYYYYY did that happen related to Poh.

Poh - why, when given just "5 minutes" in a pantry, can she suddenly find the hardest of hard ingredients to find at Asian supermarkets? And then quickly plan three brilliant recipes? I smell a rat. She had to have had prior knowledge of the pantry containing the 100 year old egg and the squid ink and the green mush stuff.

Whilst I am all about The Poh after the cruel exit of Chris:
Future winner.


I am still secretly wishing I could slide into an alternate reality where Justine is pitted against Chris in the ultimate cooking Battle Royale.

I'm off to Macca's now - YOU SEE CHANNEL 10, YOU SEE WHAT YOU MAKE ME DO TO MYSELF??????!?

Actually I'm only going to the Golden Arches because I now need to save up for (1) a trip to Chris's restaurant; (2) Chris's cookbook From Snout to Tail: from Stout to Ale; and (3) Julie's cookbook Our family table, just so I can burn it alongside John Lithgow from Footloose - mwhahahhahahaaha.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Missing Masterchef

I love this show more than eating and sleeping at the moment. I watch with sheer delight. Raptures aplenty.

And so when I missed it last night, I cried/died on the inside simultaneously.

Luckily I have the lowdown from a special guest star, a one-of-a-kind, Herringbone lady. I felt like I was there just reading it.

For your reading pleasure:

So. We begin with Poh and the big advantage. Though really, knowing what is in the dish in the pressure test isn't the greatest advantage because it's all about the timing... When they all arrive the next morning, they are greeted with an innocent little chocolate mousse cake. Not so bad.


Then they are told that they will have 3 hours to make it. Hmmmm.

The chef is Adriano Zumbo, creator of the Croquembouche (if you didn't see that one, you should totally look it up. Horrifically intricate dessert). Yet, when asked, Zumbo says that this dessert is way more difficult. And he's not wrong.

The cake is essentially a layer cake. The layers are:
  • Pate sable cinnamon, a baked biscuit-esque crust.
  • apple tatin insert, essentially a layer of caramelised apple.
  • salted caramel.
  • biscuit décor jaconde covered in a cigarette décor paste. Essentially this is a kind of almond meal and egg white baked layer with a thin layer of paste on the top.
  • Chocolate blackberry sabayon mousse with blackberry ganache
The bottom layer is the sable. Then a layer of mousse, a layer of jaconde, layer of apple tatin, layer of mousse, layer of jaconde, layer of salted caramel and topped with a layer of mousse. Then it is sprayed with a chocolate spray gun. Very industrial. VERY DIFFICULT.

The chef actually said that if he gave it to anyone in his own kitchen, no one would be able to do it first time. So they begin.

Chris is all cool and calm from the start. Also saying nasty things about how great it is when other people stuff up. You can think it, but you can't say it on national tv!!!

I feel like Poh will be ok because it is so fiddly and she has the whole art thing.

I am sure Julie will mess it up.

Justine seems ok, but she is sooooooooooo bad at time management. still, she seems good at the fiddly dishes.

So, Julie is actually super organised. She still makes unforgivable mistakes. This time, she actually forgot a layer of jaconde. So a couple of her layers must have been bleeding into each other because the jaconde is supposed to act as a barrier. How you forget something like that when it's all on the recipe card is beyond me. Still, she is the only person to actually finish the desert. She gets all the decorations on and it looks really nice at the end.

Everyone else stuffs up the timing. Chris manages to spray the cake with the spray gun and tack a few decorations on, but not to full effect. Justine is further behind and sprays the cake and scatters a couple of nuts on top. Poh is a disaster. The cake is layered upside down, so with the top level of mousse at the bottom of the mould. The mould has some round domes in it, so that when you upturn the cake, the mousse at the top has half-circle indents all over it. Poh's mousse didn't set properly, so when it peeled away from the mould, some of the half-circles stuck and she was left with some really ugly craters in her cake. But she only had time to spray it and then put it on a plate. It looked like the surface of the moon, sprayed with cocoa.

Anyway, Poh's goes to taste first. Everyone comments that it is really ugly. And when it is cut up, the caramel is not really set and kind of oozes everywhere. Still, they seem to like it and comment favourably on the taste.

Chris is next. His cake looks neat. Annoyingly, when it is cut open, all the layers remain exactly where they're supposed to. It get's very favourable comments all round.

Julie is next. Her cake looks great. When she cuts into it, the bottom layer is too thick and very hard to cut through. It is a bit of a caramel mess as well, but the judges seem to think it tastes pretty good.

Justine is last. Her cake looks pretty ordinary. Her bottom layer is also too thick and hard. It looks a massive mess when it is cut up. More caramel everywhere. The judges seem to think it tastes ok.

Chris's cake is the clear winner. I thought Poh's was clearly the next best.

First they tell Chris he's safe. Then they tell Julie she's safe. I suspect this was for dramatic effect, pitting the beautiful girls against each other, and the ones with the biggest following. But it kind of had the opposite effect as we all knew that Justine and Julie made the two worst cakes, so as soon as Julie was safe, you knew that Justine was out.

Then began the cry-fest. First Matt, then Gary, then even George had a tear. They all love her (I don't blame them because I love her also). Gary and George both said that they want her in their restaurants, but so does Jacques Reymond and also Matt Moran. Blah blah, love in, then she leaves. Here's hoping Julie is gone tomorrow and we can get down to the serious Poh v Chris.

I am now all for Poh. She's great!

5 products I would like to purchase

From U to D: Tell-it-like-it-is post-it notes, Nintendo tinned mints, Pacman Ghost tinned mints, a USB mixed tape (ooh yeah) and a Rubik's cube clock






Mmmmmhmmm - ahhhhaaaaa.