The most lamentable tragedy of Marcel Marceau

SCENE: A doctor's office. The DOCTOR is sitting at the desk going through his notes. In through the door comes MARCEL MARCEAU. 

DOCTOR: Yes. Good morning, Mr Marceau. I'm glad you've come to see me. I've been looking at your test results and they're not good. Not good at all, I'm afraid. 

MARCEL MARCEAU: (Says nothing). 

DOCTOR: And - yes, well. I think you'd better get comfortable and prepare yourself for what I've got to say. 

MARCEL MARCEAU: (Says nothing). 

DOCTOR: You see, Mr Marceau.... ahem.... I'm afraid you've got gesticular cancer. 

MARCEL MARCEAU: 

DOCTOR: Hm. Clearly it's already entered the terminal stage. 

FIN

Clearly learning about grammar in my German classes has driven me mad

Seeking for pluperfection

Had I the hat that I had had 

When I had had a hat 

Ah! Then the hat that I had had

Would have to have been that! 

And if the hat that I had had 

Had had a band of red

Then oft that hat that I had had

Had sat upon my head. 

Alas! The hat that I had had 

Had had a band although

The band the hat that I had had 

Had had had faded so. 

No more the hat I had to have 

Was mad to have and glad - 

I threw away that sad old hat 

The hat I had had had. 

If the reader so desires, they can find the right places to put the commas in amongst all those 'hads'. 

Not that I'm saying the world's going to explode if I don't answer this question, but you know, it probably will.

Right, world, listen up. You've kept us waiting too long and we all demand the answer to this question:

What on earth do homeschoolers who homeschool their kids call, you know, homework?

HOW CAN WE GO ON LIVING THIS EXISTENCE WITHOUT AN ANSWER TO THIS VITAL QUESTION?

An ohhhhhhhhhd

A few years ago the venerable institution going by the venerable name of Slamalamadingdong held an 'Anything Goes' poetry slam at their then venue of Trades Hall. Timing, as they say, is an indispensable element in many things - comedy, poetry, and outrageous distastefulness. So I hit on the idea of writing a love poem to the then Opposition Leader Tony Abbott and performing it at the slam. The worthy politician  who goes by that name has his advantages and disadvantages as a representative of Australia on the world stage, but his value in shocking and outraging people in the Melbourne Trades Hall is inestimable.

The years roll by. Tony Abbott is no longer Opposition Leader, no longer Prime Minister. The actual Prime Minister and Opposition Leader inspire nothing like the visceral shock and outrage and disgust that Mr Abbott seemingly was able to muster by simply turning to the camera and uttering a three syllable phrase - "Stop the boats!" Why, then, do I share with you now my Ode to Tony Abbott? For this very simple reason: I never actually got around to performing or writing it at the time of the Anything Goes slam. Timing is an indispensable element, in procrastination as in other things. 

An ode to Tony Abbott

Tony Abbott Tony Abbott 

Politician on a mission as you lead the coalition 

Pounding out the heaving bosom of the ocean 

While the water swells to meet you and the shoreline comes to greet you 

And the very planet shakes with the commotion. 

Tony Abbott Tony Abbott

With your roadways to tomorrow, pure, without sorrow, 

Clean cutting lines of asphalt and precision - 

And at night the luminescence of the neon fluorescence 

To sanctify your technocratic vision. 

Tony Abbott Tony Abbott

Warrior for the nation as we shout with acclamation 

And our voices mingle, passionate in praise - 

May our military munitions flower in perfervid fission 

And pay their tribute to you in a torrid blaze. 

Tony Abbott Tony Abbott 

Do you hear the metal ringing and the infrastructure singing

As the factories whisper out the Abbott story - 

And the smokestacks stand and shiver till with wonder they deliver

Clouds of radiant black effulgence for your glory! 

Tony Abbott Tony Abbott TONY ABBOTT. 

HIGHLY IMPORTANT POEM WITH NO WORDS AND ONLY THREE LETTERS

TFW

(FTW)

WTF!

A winning combination

Crocs. 

Crocs with socks. 

Crocs with socks and a box of chocs. 

Bojo made a booboo boohoo

Boris Johnson struggles in interview 
Boris Johnson seemed to struggle when asked by Eddie Mair on BBC Radio 4's PM to explain how plans laid out in the Queen's Speech would tackle "burning injustices" identified by Prime Minister Theresa May.

Has Bojo lost his mojo
Now that Corbyn's all a-gogo,
Have they conquered his blond conker
And driven him quite bonkers?
Has the polyphonic Pfefferneuse
Put his head in his own noose?
Is the boffin of the waffle
Lost in his own piffle-poffle?
The polls say yes, the polls say no,
The bottom line is, we don't know. 

Has the prime PM contender
Been marked return-to-sender?
Is the man they called Adonis
No longer due upon us?
Have his wingdings lost their zingzing,
Has his bikey lost its dingading?
Has he toddled off for wiff-waff?
Has the bofflin lost his boff?
The polls are up, the polls are down,
We go around, around, around. 

Furtive eggplant

I was in the garden this afternoon when, crouching down by the back of the beehives, I found a furtive eggplant. There is no eggplant, er, plant there. It was also not a very big eggplant, but it was an eggplant, so there you go.

I looked left. I looked right. I looked all around. One is occasionally accustomed to finding the odd egg in the garden (I've known a chicken or two with such nefarious thoughts in mind). But an eggplant?

There was a clunk or two over the other side of the fence. Could our 70 plus year old neighbour have thrown it over? Unlikely. The bees continued doing whatever it is bees do. Far off, on the other side of the garden, the chickens all stood around looking suitably suspicious. They certainly seemed they were up to something. But then, the chooks always seem like they're up to something.

I concluded my furtive eggplant investigations by creating the world's smallest eggplant parma. A coin is included for comparison.

It's not a very good mystery, but it's all I've got today. Thank you for reading my post about the furtive eggplant.

A pub poem

My chip has fallen to the floor.

The bar is crowded. I look down.

Sehnsucht. A lawless longing for

The unattainable. I frown.

STUDY: people who stay up late and are messy and get distracted easily and are five foot two and prefer dark chocolate and have a moustache but not a beard and who don't do the dishes often and who prefer dogs to cats and who live in Ringwood and who are called Brad are very intelligent

STUDY: people who stay up late and are messy and get distracted easily and are five foot two and prefer dark chocolate and have a moustache but not a beard and who don't do the dishes often and who prefer dogs to cats and who live in Ringwood and who are called Brad are very intelligent.

In breaking news, a new study confirms that people who stay up late and are messy and get distracted easily and are five foot two and prefer dark chocolate and have a moustache but not a beard and who don't do the dishes often and who prefer dogs to cats and who live in Ringwood and who are called Brad are very intelligent, according to a person called Brad.

Brad, who performed the intensive study in his offices in Ringwood, released this groundbreaking study to the international media this morning. The study had a sample size of one.

In other news, Brad is 28 years old, lives in his parent's cellar, and spends most of his time scratching his bum.

Poem composed on Mothers' Day 2017

I offer this poem to all: parents, aspiring parents and offspring alike.

Dear Mistress, dear Master, 

We render to thee

A morsel of mouse

Made tender for thee -

How pleasant a present 

For the household to see!

Now what shall thy gift

To thy parents be?

Gliterature

'Glittering' is a glittery word. 'Glistering' is a glittery word. 'Lustre' is a glittery word too. But combine them all and 'glustering' isn't very glittery at all. What the hell?

I have lost all my faith in the gliterary qualities of language.

Cat poetry

Anglo-Saxon Doge

Ēadig, þec tō mētenne, fréondléasta! Behealden! "Anglo-Saxon Doge". Georne!  

A poem in excellent taste

A poem in excellent taste

"Fair fa' your honest sonsie face" -

Ye carbo-gluto-great disgrace!

For years the Haggis set the standard

For horror foods, but I'll be candid,

Now other foods have come to try it,

To eat of which would cause a riot.

Would Sir prefer to rock the Casbah

With a slice of deep-fried Mars Bar,

Or would Sir rather rot his molar

With this deep-fried Coca Cola?

But Aussies can contend with these

With floater pies complete with peas -

To gaze within that Stygian grime,

The cow would die a second time.

Halal Snack Packs complete with cheese

Compete with this for extra quease.

A slice of fruit for those more pure -

It smells like foetid bogs and sewer.

A Parma can reward the senses

With its homely decadences,

But for sheer bloody What-The-Fucken-

Hell-Is-This at parties, try Turducken.

Lutefisk, Moose Nose, Bird-spit soups,

Stylised culinary poops -

Spit beer served in Mason jars

By suspect men in dingy bars;

Blue-green algae lattes (what the?

I'll go back to ol' Pigs Trotters).

This list of epicurean shame

Is long and everyone's to blame

And though I wish I'd not begun,

I'll just say this and then I'm done -

If you can eat it, please go nuts!

So long as you don't spill your guts.

Thursday morning deprecation of teapots

At a time when the whole art world was going wiggly-woggly and frilly-frolly with noblets and nodules and nipples galore, look at what one Christopher Dresser created. The world's most ridiculous teapot.

I mean, really! The bloody thing would overbalance as soon as you tried to pick it up. And you can't steady it with your hand either, because it's made out of metal, so you'd just burn your hand. Anticipating this problem (maybe), Dresser gave it an upturned spout, but then you've got to wonder how you'd pour the stupid tea out anyway. Maybe it goes something like 1) Pour the hot water over the tea leaves at the bottom of the pot 2) Get two strong men to grasp opposite sides of the handle, making sure not to overbalance it. 3) Carefully place a teacup (good Lord, did this monstrous Dresser ever make teacups as well? I DON'T WANT TO SEE THE RESULTS) in the middle of the sink. 4) Let one of the strong men dangle the teapot in his hand, swinging it to and fro until enough tea slops into the cup 4) Smash the bloody contraption up and get a Nescafe instead.

And it gets worse. In googling "Christopher Dresser Teapot" I found this. And this. The horror! Look upon these teapots, and revile them, all ye who enter here!

This concludes today's post, Thursday morning deprecation of teapots. I hope you all got what you came for.

Biblical ethics for politicians

From the lesser known Big Fat Lies translation of the Bible. 

"Be as sly as serpents, and as gentle as serpents."

"If someone strike thee, (and they be of a more powerful faction), turn the other cheek."

"But of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, thou mayst not eat, save that there be no media present."

"Render unto Caesar that which is Caesars, and render unto Caesar that which is yours as well."

"Yea, I am sending thee out as wolves amongst sheep."

"Do not let your right hand know what your left hand is doing, unless you can get a minor boost in the polls by doing it, in which case, go right ahead."

You don't need to read this blog post to know you're great!

Hey there! This is a blog post solely intended for the purpose of not challenging your perceptions and not requiring any actual thought or engagement from the internet. In fact, you don't have to be reading this blog post at all to make an incredibly thoughtless, unsubstantiated comment upon it! Stop reading it right now!

Have you stopped reading it? Good! For too long, you see, the internet has been awash with interesting, provocative, reasoned arguments in favour of positions that people would really rather not go to the effort of engaging with. There is a crying need in the community for blog posts that enable people to make knee jerk, biased, uneducated comments on. But for some reason, people have insisted on being independent-minded, hard-working, and on educating themselves about issues before actually responding to them in some way. It's disgraceful!

HEY, YOU'RE STILL READING! Stop right now! That's better. You see, people all too often put the effort to reading every single word in a blog post before actually responding to it, even if the blog post expresses an opinion completely contrary to their own. Wait a second, I think I caught out a person reading the sentence above this one, which action is completely antithetical (if you have just read that word, (which I hope you haven't), but if you have, do not look it up, if you don't know what it means) to the purposes of this post. You see, this blog post has no opinion of its own, and it doesn't even matter if it does, because you don't have to worry about it anyway, as the only purpose - the sole, unitary goal - the single end point of this blog post - is to reflect back to you your own opinions anyway. Because it's nicer that way.

Now I know you've stopped reading this blog post before it even started, but I'm going to need you to not read this blog post even more now. Good. Now that I have even less readers than ever before, I'm just going to say something: I like pineapple on pizza. Did you hear that? NO, OF COURSE YOU DIDN'T, because it doesn't matter anyway. and even if it does matter, it doesn't, because you're not reading this. So feel free to vent, fume, rageclick, vomit torrents of ideology, or swear about the horrible opinions I probably haven't expressed in the course of this blog post which you didn't read anyway, because that is the only purpose of this blog post!

You know (of course you don't!), this hasn't been a really learning, growing experience for all of us. Thank you for not actually taking your time to read any of this, you lovable, scrofulous, unhygienic nincompoops. It's been my absolute displeasure.

Give me the symbol life

Female traffic light signals to go up at pedestrian crossing as Committee for Melbourne tackles 'unconscious bias'

Pedestrian traffic lights depicting female figures will be installed in Melbourne's CBD today as a part of a lobby group's push for gender equality... The Committee for Melbourne — a non-profit organisation comprising more than 120 Melbourne business and community groups — is behind the move.

Now some people may say we are literally only making a symbolic change to traffic light symbols, but I say no! In making a literally symbolic change, the Committee for Melbourne are making a bold new symbolically literal change, which will literally change things for the better (for symbols)! For too long gender discrimination has existed in the literal world of symbols, and symbols  have been symbolically demonstrating for a literal change to their symbolism for symbolic years!

Furthermore, it may seem to some of our more annoying discerning readers that in pushing for this literally symbolic change to literal symbols, the Committee are literally making the wrong symbolic reading of the literal symbols, and are therefore being illiterately symbolic, or only symbolically literate, or something... anyway, the claim is, what's all this about women not being able to wear trousers? Can't the little symbolic traffic light person be a symbolic woman? But again, I say, no! In order to effect this literally symbolic change, or this symbolically literal change (I forget what now), the Committee will use literally the best symbols to symbolise their literally symbolic women! Like rolling pins! And stilettos! And beehive hairdos! You'll be literally blown away by how symbolically womanish they'll be!

And also plus in addition, some people might object that the meanings of 'literally' and 'symbolically'  have become so blurred nowadays that they are effectively one and the same word, and that my blog post means nothing. In which case, I would literally be forced to utter a very rude symbol indeed. Like, literally literally.

Resting bitch face: a photographic meditation

Resting bitch face.

Besting rich face.

Itching breast face.

Resting butch face.

Thank you for your time.

PS - I've done my research, thanks very much!