Footpath Rage

<fulmination mode>

Honestly. Other people walking on the footpath are so ridiculous. There should be a law against them. It's getting so that a gentleman can't go for his morning constitutional nowadays without running into gangs of Loiterers, Pamphleteers, Jostlers, Hip-swivellers, or Elderleys.

The Loiterers stand about in groups of two outside shop windows, strategically placed so that they disrupt your manly stride.

The Pamphleteers, so called because they stand on street corners waiting for you to pass by and wave pieces of paper in your face demanding that you Save The Whales/Save The World/Save Your Soul/Make Great Savings Now! Don't these people have anything better to do with their lives? Streets are for walking, not talking.

The Jostlers who elbow you out of the way rudely.

The Hip-Swivellers Blonde, stick-figure-thing young lovelys wearing jeans and not much else. The way their buttocks rotate as they walk is a true wonder of nature. Perhaps they could place a pair of motion-activated flashlights upon their buttocks, thus alerting gentlemen of their presence at night.

The Elderlys ie, old people who get together in groups of three or four and take up the whole footpath. They then proceed to walk very slowly and carefully down the footpath, making sure that you are unable to get past them. If you attempt to do so, they will use their frames and walking sticks as deadly weapons. I am of the firm belief that these old people do it on purpose, and gather together in gangs during the mornings to discuss which footpath they shall walk down and whose path they shall obstruct.

One longs for the days when Walking was a gentleman's profession. Nowadays it seems they'll let anyone onto the streets. I think I'll start taking a car horn with me, so that when I get caught behind the next bunch of elderlys, I can honk it loudly in their ears until they move.

That'll show 'em.

</fulmination mode>

Absence

Been away for a while. Haven't felt like blogging that much. Actually, I'm not even back now. This post is being written by a ghost writer with my name, age, and appearance. He seems to be like me in every way, but he's not me. Handy, huh?

I just have to feed him the occasional cherry-topped cake and he keeps typing away. I think I'll keep him.

The Foot Blog

Posted a corker of a comment the other day. Considering it has almost nothing to do with the subject being blogged about, it's simultaneously one of the worst and the best things I'll ever write. Here it is, in all its glory....

---

Speaking of feet, I used to speak with feet ... my brother's feet, that is. He called it 'foot' and we used to hold long conversations at the dinner table.
In this modern digital age, maybe it could start up a blog...

THE FOOT BLOG

Friday
;serfiosrthljsfgkljkladjrgfkl

Saturday
Hey, I don't mind the guy on the other side ... for a left foot, he isn't so bad. But the owner stepped in something today and hasn't cleaned it off yet, and he's been smelling all day.

Sunday
*Wonders* Cosmetic surgery can do wonders nowadays. Maybe I should consider being amputated, and starting off a life of my own, free of that smell old left foot...

Monday
I went and saw the doctor today. Arranged the amputation for Tuesday.

Tuesday
LIVE AMPUTATION BLOGGING
Hello, here I am in the doctor's surgery, ready for a spot of live amputationg blogging. I've got my laptop here ready for the moment and .... YEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWCH!

Wednesday
My foot hurts.
And considering my foot is all I have now, you'll understand if I'm a little late out of bed.

Thursday
I feel free! I feel liberated! I think I shall go out into the wide world and see what it has to offer for a foot freed of his bipedal constraints!

Friday
I miss my body.

END OF FOOT BLOG

Two days later, the foot was caught by police trying to stitch himself onto a nearby elephant. When asked what he was doing, he said he was just looking for 'some-body to cling on to'.

Because I Have Nothing Better to Post About

Generic Political Rant

Waffle waffle waffle bla bla waffle waffle bla bla ignorant lefties waffle bla bla stupid righties.
Yada yada yada yada John Howard yada yada yada moving forward yada being held back bla bla bla bla bla upon the ladder of opportunity.
Therefore, Mr. Speaker, it would seem, Mr. Speaker, to be an exact and certainly indubitable probability, relatively speaking, that the bla bla bla bla hegemonic influence bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla.
And so waffle waffle rousing metaphor waffle waffle waffle waffle waffle waffle waffle waffle waffle waffle waffle waffle waffle waffle waffle waffle waffle meaningful anecdote waffle waffle waffle waffle waffle applause point waffle waffle waffle waffle waffle and furthermore etc etc historical reference + dramatic pause...

I therefore conclude, Mr. Speaker, that the Honourable Member for Somewhere-or-other is a cunt.

Ways to Make the World a More Perfect Place #5

Nudist men should be genetically engineered so they have pouches* at the sides of their waist**. That way they could be as free and natural as God/Gaia/deity-of-your-choice intended but still be able to put their hands in their pockets.***

*Though I guess they shouldn't have mucus in them, like kangaroo pouches.

** Waist not, want not, I always say.

***Richard Glover came up with a similar idea a while ago, but I swear, this idea just came to me in the shower.

Paradoxymoron

Vanessa tries to explain the difference between a paradox and an oxymoron. Xeno's paradox is mentioned.

The Tortoise challenged Achilles to a race, claiming that he would win as long as Achilles gave him a small head start. Achilles laughed at this, for of course he was a mighty warrior and swift of foot, whereas the Tortoise was heavy and slow.“How big a head start do you need?” he asked the Tortoise with a smile.“Ten meters,” the latter replied.Achilles laughed louder than ever. “You will surely lose, my friend, in that case,” he told the Tortoise, “but let us race, if you wish it.”“On the contrary,” said the Tortoise, “I will win, and I can prove it to you by a simple argument.”“Go on then,” Achilles replied, with less confidence than he felt before. He knew he was the superior athlete, but he also knew the Tortoise had the sharper wits, and he had lost many a bewildering argument with him before this.“Suppose,” began the Tortoise, “that you give me a 10-meter head start. Would you say that you could cover that 10 meters between us very quickly?”“Very quickly,” Achilles affirmed.“And in that time, how far should I have gone, do you think?”“Perhaps a meter – no more,” said Achilles after a moment's thought.“Very well,” replied the Tortoise, “so now there is a meter between us. And you would catch up that distance very quickly?”“Very quickly indeed!”“And yet, in that time I shall have gone a little way farther, so that now you must catch that distance up, yes?”
“Ye-es,” said Achilles slowly.“And while you are doing so, I shall have gone a little way farther, so that you must then catch up the new distance,” the Tortoise continued smoothly.Achilles said nothing.“And so you see, in each moment you must be catching up the distance between us, and yet I – at the same time – will be adding a new distance, however small, for you to catch up again.”“Indeed, it must be so,” said Achilles wearily.“And so you can never catch up,” the Tortoise concluded sympathetically.“You are right, as always,” said Achilles sadly – and conceded the race.

That was by Lewis Carrol. It's a paradox because ... well, because ... um, hey look! Alice falling through a hole in the earth!

In Carroll's day there was considerable popular speculation about what would happen if one fell through a hole that went straight through the center of the earth. Plutarch had asked the question and many famous thinkers, including Francis Bacon and Voltaire, had argued about it. Galileo (Dialogo dei Massimi Sistemi, Giornata Seconda, Florence edition of 1842, Vol. 1, pages 251–52), gave the correct answer: the object would fall with increasing speed but decreasing acceleration until it reached the center of the earth, at which spot its acceleration would be zero. Thereafter it would slow down in speed, with increasing deceleration, until it reached the opening at the other end. Then it would fall back again. By ignoring air resistance and the coriolis force resulting from the earth's rotation (unless the hole ran from pole to pole), the object would oscillate back and forth forever. Air resistance of course would eventually bring it to rest at the earth's center. The interested reader should consult "A Hole through the Earth," by the French astronomer Camille Flammarion, in The Strand Magazine, Vol. 38 (1909), page 348, if only to look at the lurid illustrations.

Now I'm not sure whether that is illustrative of Xeno's paradox, or of paradoxes in general, but that's certainly interesting. Though I think that Alice might get a bit bored in the end.

Anyway, to get back to the point - the difference between a paradox and an oxymoron. 'Paradox' is a term for an apparent contradiction, while an oxymoron is a contradiction in terms. Simple.

Like to read this piece of mine and argue vociferously with me? Then go to Vibewire and read this post, which, depending on where you stand, is either...

a) A slavish piece of Government propaganda, aimed at crushing student unions,
b) A timely piece written in support of Voluntary Student Unionism
c) Yeah, whatever.

Ways To Make the World a More Perfect Place #4

Instead of having to climb the stairs ourselves, we should be able to hire lithe and nubile young climbers to do it for us. At the rate children are paid nowadays, it should cost, oh, only 5 cents per flight of stairs.

And while standing in queues, customers should be provided with a lounge and a daiquiri so they can relax. I am particularly firm on this last point: waiting in queues is the bane of modern existence, and I'm not going to stand for it any more!

I Love the Taste of Marx in the Morning

You know, I've always liked food. You can eat it. Apparently leftists like food too. You can throw it. Tim Blair notes this endearing characteristic of the left, writing:

Forced to select between ideas
and pies, leftists are prone to opt for the latter...

This is a marvellous thing. Perhaps the right-wing could do something similar. Only, where leftists through cream pies, perhaps a more sedate, conservative right-winger could throw omelette with a side-serving of bass, lightly fried, topped with a garnish of parsley and basil and a drink of red wine.
Political commentators in the daily newspapers could be replaced by food critics:

The debate in parliament today was an easily digestible combination of Trotsky, with a sprinkling of Mao Tse Tung and a garnish of Hayek for good measure. Although the mixture of flavours went down fairly well, it turned a little sour at the end.

I give this debate 3/5.

I've found the writing of our political commentators a little hard to stomach from time to time. This culinary approach to political debate can only improve matters.

Call Me The Chairman

I have just finished my first night at work, doing some data entry on the night shift. After spending some time tapping in a series of numbers into the computer, my buttocks began to meld into the chair. In time, we shall merge fully, my spin running into the chair, and we shall form a symbiotic entity, known as The Chairman, who shall live in the office and be deposited under the table when he needs to sleep, and be fed with instant coffee for breakfast.

Actually, I'm thinking of quitting. I may be offered another night shift typing position tomorrow.

UPDATE - I got fired! Easy come, easy go.

Blog Predictions

Following the recent demise of two of the best blogs, now would seem to be the right time to take stock of what's happening in the world of blog. Where are the blogs going, and what will the bloggers be doing in a years time? Yes, it's...

BLOG PREDICTIONS 2005

- Marty of The Rat Pack, currently one of the crankiest right-wingers around (and he's still at Uni!), just keeps on getting crankier. By 2006, he's so cranky that he drops the A-bomb on Canada, Cuba, and other havens of lefty-hippy-peaceniks such as Tasmania. Then, deciding that he can't get much crankier than that, Marty retreats to a cave and becomes a tofu-munching Hari Krishna.

- Defying his own expectations and others predictions, DREADNOUGHT becomes Pope and the Catholic church enters a magnificent new era of splendour and decadence.

- David wins the Pulitzer prize - well deserved, despite the fact that he is neither living America nor born in America.

- Proving that there's nothing she can't do, webmistress Andrea Harris bans Tim Blair from his own blog - then she goes even further and bans herself.

- Gempires becomes a Carmelite nun and retires to a nunnery, only engaging in the occasional threesome with her fellow nuns (every other day or so, and twice on Sundays).

Those Whacky Prostitutes (And Other Stories)

Three Nights Ago: I'm out drinking with the guys. Let's call them Dale and David, 'cos that's what their names are. Anyway, I'm out drinking with them, or should I say, I'm in drinking with them, at the pub on the first floor of the Carlton Hotel, which is where I'm staying at the moment. George is downstairs, Pete is behind the bar, and there are a couple of prostitutes lounging around on the lounge chatting to Pete. When I go to ask Pete how much for a bag of chips, the black haired prostitue pipes up and says, "Ten bucks, love."
It's good to drink, but at twelve-thirty I decide to go to bed. I don't have to get wasted to enjoy a good nights sleep.
I crawl into bed, the top bunk, and briefly squint across at Adam's bunk on the other side of the room - what the hell does this guy do all night? he doesn't sleep, that's for sure - before turning the lights off. I don't need to get wasted to sleep properly.
Or maybe I do. At 3.00, I'm woken by a key in the door. There are voices outside, so I assume that it's Dale and David arriving back. The door opens and the lights go on. It is Dale, but it's not David. Actually, it's the prostitute who spoke to me before.
Jerkily, probably still half-asleep, I pull on a few clothes on and jump to the floor.
"I think I need to go to the toilet for a second," says the prostitute.
When she's gone, this is what Dale says to me - and this is verbatim:

Dale: I'm going to fuck this bitch tonight. (Giggles) I haven't had a root for three months. I'm going to bang her good. (Giggles again, doesn't stop.)

Whatever. I don't know what the hell I'm going to do for the rest of the night, but sleeping, it seems, is not on the itinerary.
Or is it? Dale starts wondering what happened to the prostitute, so he goes to the toilet. She's not there. And she's taken fifty dollars of his! He dashes down the stairs to look in the bar. I lean over the banister for a while. In a few minutes, David comes up stairs, and Dale goes outside to look for her.
David is drunk. Very drunk. He's a nice guy, but he tends to ramble and has an aggressive manner. So when he's drunk, he rambles very much - and is even aggressiver. For the next half-hour or so, I sit on my bed leaning forward and listening to David ramble on and on about bitches and Asians.
Eventually I lie back on the bed.

Me: I'm just going to, you know, turn this light off, and, you know, we can go to sleep.

David: (Rambles some more).

About half-an-hour later, Dale comes in, lies down on the bed until the alarm goes off. It's 4.00am. He gets up, turns the light on, pulls his clothes on, turns the light off, and goes to work.

Two nights ago: Still don't know where Adam is. He hasn't come into the room at all - just leaves his stuff on the top of the bed.
I'm sleeping. Then at 3.00am the door opens and in comes Adam, followed by a security guy. Adam pulls all his bags together, looks around under the bed for his mobile phone charger and some other things. Eventually the security guard says, "Come on man. Let's go". And they do.
Whatever. I think I'll just lie back on the bed and go to sleep.*

Or not.

Dale is snoring. Snoring heavily. He always does. Actually, he didn't even notice Adam and the security guard come in - he's too busy snoring, and occasionally mumbling while he snores. Normally, it doesn't worry me - but now it does. I can't sleep. Keep on drifting off, then I'm snatched back to consciousness by Dale's snores.

Eventually, Dale wakes up, sits up, turns on the light, pulls on his clothes, turns off the light, and goes to work. Bliss.

Or not.

Some idiot is walking up and down Bourke Street screaming, "Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!! Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!! Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!"

No more sleep. Again. I think I'll swear. Excuse me for a second.

Me: (Deep breath) FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU...

*we'll call it room for the purposes of this conversation, though 'box' or 'cupboard' might be a more appropriate description
* I later found out Adam was dealing heroin.

Hey

Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy! Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy! Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy! (etc, etc, etc)

Update: Stay tuned...

Zzzz

Zzzzz zzzzz zzzzz zzzzz zzzzz zzzzz zzzzz zzzzz zzzzz zzzzz ur zzzzz ur zzzzz ur zzzzz ur zzzzz.

Ooeer

Ooooeeeeeeeeeer.

Little Peter Rabbit

Little Peter Rabbit had a fly upon his nose,
Little Peter Rabbit had a fly upon his nose,
Little Peter Rabbit had a fly upon his nose,
And he blew and he blew some more.

Little Peter Rabbit had some tinea on his toes,
Little Peter Rabbit had some tinea on his toes,
Little Peter Rabbit had some tinea on his toes,
It hurt quite a lot, I'm sure.

Little Peter Rabbit had a goitre on his leg,
Little Peter Rabbit had a goitre on his leg,
Little Peter Rabbit had a goitre on his leg,
It was a frightful bore.

Then when he was in the garden, he got caught in Mr. McGregor's trap,
Then when he was in the garden, he got caught in Mr. McGregor's trap,
Then when he was in the garden, he got caught in Mr. McGregor's trap,
'Twas a scene of blood and gore.

"Boil some water!" said McGregor, "An' we'll 'ave some fly an' rabbit stew!
"With some tinea in there too, an' a goitred leg or two!
"Boil some water, dear," he said, "An' we'll 'ave some fly an' rabbit stew -
Like we've never 'ad before!"

"But McGregor!" snapped his wife, "You know you cannot chew!
"On a goitred leg or two, much less 'ave a rabbit stew!"
"But McGregor!" snapped his wife, "You know you cannot chew,
Because you 'ave lockjaw!"

So weeping Mr. McGregor had to let poor Peter go,
And weeping Mr. McGregor had to let poor Peter go,
Yes weeping Mr. McGregor had to let poor Peter go,
And he won't eat rabbit any more!

CLOSET HOMOPHOBE!!!

Committed redneck, gay-hater and homophobe Hal Harkleman recently spent two months behind doors, masquerading as a 'homosexual', in order to discover more about their 'lifestyle'. He has now written a startling book about his experiences - titled Behind Doors with the Backdoor Bandits!
Harkleman seemed relaxed and comfortable when our resident redneck, Bruce Baldwin, spoke to him in his Broadmeadows residence recently...

BB: So, what are they like, really? Gays, I mean? Sometimes it seems hard to believe they really exist!

HH: I know, it's strange, isn't it? And you know something even stranger? They're normally very ordinary people!

BB: Really?

HH: Yes, really. Whenever they're not bending over, taking it up the back chute, making like the backstreet boys, or generally sucking the saveloy, they're actually very nice!

BB: Wow!

HH: Yep. Really!

BB: But ... what about all that limp-wristed stuff? You know, the hand-flapping, the air-kisses, the 'hello, Sailor!' type stuff?

HH: Well... to tell you the truth...

BB: Yes?

HH: (Leaning in, whispering) They just do it to have us on.

BB: What?

HH: Really! In private, they're all, 'G'day Bob, nice ter meet yer, Joe, 'ave another beer mate!' - just like you and me!

BB: Even... even the mincing? They put that on too?

HH: Oh, the mincing! I can tell you something about that! You see, they have classes!

BB: Classes?

HH: Yes! They teach you how to walk like a fag! Really! Here, I'll show you ... (standing up, swinging his hips poofter style) you move your legs like this, and your hips like this, and ...

BB: Here, steady on mate, you're not a poofter now!

HH: Sorry... I forget sometimes...

BB: So tell me... there's something I'm dying to know...

HH: Yeah?

BB: Did you really... you know ... take it up the arse?

HH: What?

BB: Did you slurp on the sausage? Did you kiss the cabanossi?

HH: Well, I made romanski with the kransky, if that's what you mean...

BB: Well, mate, doesn't that make you a flaming ... homosexual?

HH: (Rises up and punches BB in the face) Ey, what I did, mate, was purely for scientific research! Who cares if I had a bit of fun on the side?

BB: Jeez mate! ... sorry I asked ... one more question though...

HH: What?

BB: Well... what's it like?

HH: I can show you if you like.

BB: Fuck off, you flaming queer! (Turns off tape, looks around furtively, leans in to HH) Alright, you can give it to me once or twice between the back flaps, but that doesn't make me a bloody nancy boy, OK?

I May Be an Environmentalist, but I'm Not a Bloody Greenie

Hey environmentalists, I hear you man, I really do. Like, the environment is a really good thing and nature is really pretty and we shouldn't chop all the trees down and stuff. You're right. But before I consider becoming a full blown tree-hugging Bob Brown-loving hippy, you're going to have to fix up some major problems with your philosophy. You know how you say 'man is a part of nature', right? That's cool, but then you go on about the difference between the man-made world and the natural world. Get over it. Trees are nature and architecture is nature and cars and roads are nature, too.
Oh, and ditch all that propaganda about how we need to 'save the world'. The world ain't gonna be blown up, man. Over its time, it's survived ice-ages, heat-ages, repeated hits by comets, the destruction of its ozone layer, and much, much more besides - and life on planet Earth has survived too, and thrived. We're not ever going to save the planet. We're just going to make things a bit more comfortable for ourselves.
Oh, and then there's all that other stuff you guys go on about...

The Greenhouse Effect So I hear a lot of scientist dudes talk about climate change and how it might be affected by the activities of homo sapien. So I hear a lot of politicians and greenies talk about how 'human-induced climate change' will cause 'more floods, more hurricanes, more droughts - more of everything.' So what? Just because you say it's going to happen doesn't mean it will happen. I don't see why I'm supposed to believe all of you concerned people when you make contradictions like saying there's going to be more floods and more droughts. Like, come on, dude!

Floods= More Water

Droughts = Less Water

Which is it going to be?
And anyway, we hear a lot about how bad the world is going to be because of human induced climate change. But suppose we stopped human induced climate change? Do we ever hear predictions about how bad the world is going to be then? Hey, it could be worse - look at the world as it is now. In the previous twelve months, we've had several killer earthquakes, a gigantic bloody tsunami which killed thousands of people, and a couple of tornadoes as well. Whose to say that the world without human induced climate change won't be far, far worse than the world with human induced climate change? Get a proper argument, my friend.

Energy You're right. We can't keep on burning coal and oil forever and a day. We're going to run out sometime. And when we do, we'll be in deep doo-doo, unless we do something about it now. So why are you greenies so hung up on the idea of wind power and solar power? Look at some of the other alternatives:

Nuclear Power - Efficient and safe. Three quarters of the scare stories you hear about nuclear energy and nuclear waste aren't true, and most of the rest are vastly exaggerated. Fact is, we know enough about nuclear energy now to do it, and to do it safely. Stop being so freaking timid about the whole thing, and start looking at it as an alternative energy source.

Dam Power - Hey, this sounds like a freakishly clean and efficient energy source, why don't we give this one a go?

Geothermal Power - Yet another alternative which could work well. But no one mentions it.

Biodiesel Power - I dunno whether this causes any of those Carbon Dioxide gases, but let's give this one a go too.

Wave Power - Wooah, dude, another energy source that no one ever talks about - but it could work and it could work well.

For the life of me, I don't know why you guys are so stuck up on Wind Power and Solar Power, which are possibly the most expensive to manufacture, and the most inefficient in terms of output. See, the whole thing is, the modern world in all its thriving, overpopulated glory was made possible by efficient energy resources which generated enough power and profit to allow us to live in such comfort. You say we need to look at alternatives, I say - you're right, so why don't we start?

Genetically Modified Foods What's wrong with this stuff, anyway? What gives you dudes such a hang-up about it? Here's a new technology, that - given time - could develop new crops which use less natural resources (like water) and yield far greater harvests. This is good stuff! And I don't see why you're so worried about them damaging our biodiversity. Dude, wake up! They're new crops, they're adding to our biodiversity.
I don't see what the hang up is. Aren't greenies supposed to be liberal and progressive and stuff? So wake up, be liberal and progressive and accept this liberal and progressive new technology!

Overpopulation So Bob Brown says we should have less people in Australia. But he also says we should have vastly increased immigration. Um, major contradiction alert, my friend! Which is it gonna be - more people, or less? I say more people. Commissar Brown says, um, wooah, dude, that's just too heavy for this time in the morning...

Oh, and one other thing, dudes. The economy. You guys have a wee-bitty-problem with this. Trees are nice, but money doesn't grow on them. Grass is pretty, but it doesn't feed the economy. The thing that feeds the economy is money, and we need a strong economy to have a healthy society. Think about all the things that rely on this (afore-mentioned) strong economy: health, out-of-work pensions, back-to-work-pensions, rehabilitation, the arts, food, electricity... the list goes on and on. So stop thinking you can just chuck taxes at the latest environmentalist fad (wind power, solar power, bla bla bla) and give the money back to taxpayers. They usually know the best way to spend their own money.

More: See Evil Pundit