Will Type For Food



kidattypewriter

Monday, December 19, 2022

Obligatory Festive Versifications

 OF CHRISTMAS CHRIS 
How he was DRAGGED DOWN TO CHRISTMAS HELL,
The MANNERS AND MODES of the CHRISTMAS DEAD, and CHRISTMAS DAEMONS
And how CHRISTMAS CHRIS managed to ESCAPE 

 

Christmas Chris was in a fix: 

Betwixt the Christmas wine and beer, 

The Christmas special egg nog mix, 

The Christmas soon and Christmas here, 

He’d had his fill of Christmas cheer, 

And in a Christmas daze he fell 

Into a torpid Christmas blear, 

Out of his Christmas All is Well, 

From Christmas Heaven into CHRISTMAS HELL. 

 

Christmas Hell was full fantastic 

With Christmas crap and Christmas Kringle, 

Christmas wrapping, Christmas plastic, 

Christmas bells and Christmas dingle, 

Endless Christmas jingle jingle 

Jingles echoed down the floors; 

Upside down in every ingle, 

Christmas trees grew down in scores. 

The ruler of this land was SATAN CLAWS. 



With Christmas fangs in Christmas jaws, 

And Christmas eyes of festive red, 

And Christmas slaver in his maws, 

And Christmas horns upon his head, 

No Christmas laugh from he – instead,

A booming, roaring “O HO HO”,

Came forth to cheer the Christmas dead,  

A snarling, growling “O NO NO”,

And “NOW YOU’RE HERE, YOU’LL NEVER GO GO GO!”

 

It was a happy Christmas realm – 

Here Christmas could not be denied, 

Here Christmas glitz could overwhelm; 

Christmas Chris’s eyes were wide

As Satan Claws came to his side. 

“O Christmas Chris, your dream is found – 

Be welcome to my land,” he cried. 

“From Christmas treat to treat you’ll bound 

In Christmas Hell, it’s CHRISTMAS ALL YEAR ROUND.” 

 

Chris saw it all, he knew the score, 

Sang from the Christmas hymn sheet smartly,

Christmas shopping at each store, 

Joining in the Christmas party – 

For Christmas Chris was Christmas tarty. 

But something somehow held him back, 

His Christmas cheer was less than hearty, 

His Christmas spirit somewhat slack – 

In Christmas Hell there was a lack of… lack. 

 

But for one hundred years and more, 

He joined the great extravaganza, 

Shopped at Christmas shops galore, 

Sang forwards, backwards every stanza 

By Carey, Buble, Mario Lanza,

Binged on pudding til he burst, 

Then binged again, a binge bonanza, 

In Christmas crackers was immersed:

His Christmas spirits sank: it was the worst. 

 

So lowly grew his joie de vivre, 

Through Christmas Hell they raised alarms – 

Was Christmas Chris an unbeliever, 

Immune to all the Christmas charms 

Of Christmas Hell? The Christmas balms 

Of Christmas food and Christmas dishes? 

How dare he suffer any qualms 

About a Christmas so propitious, 

Christmas delectable, divine, delicious! 

 

Now Satan Claws grew quite irate 

At Christmas Chris’s melancholy, 

And came his inmate to berate:

“Now what’s all this, you Yuletide Wally? 

Do I detect a lack of jolly? 

A scorning of my Christmas cherry? 

Less ‘Fa la la’ and ‘Boughs of holly’ 

Than we would wish? No Christmas merry? 

For here in Christmas Hell, ‘tis Christmas very – 

 

Here, All is More, and Nothing, Less: 

All oversugared, overiced, 

Christmas excess upon excess! 

Our Christmas food is overspiced, 

Our Christmas gifts are overpriced; 

To not partake, our only crime; 

Our only lack is Christmas CHRIST – 

Here, Christmas reason, Christmas rhyme; 

Here, only Christmas til the end of time.”   

 

“But I love Christmas – that I do!”

Cried Christmas Chris in his frustration, 

“I always have – you know it’s true!

But can’t you find accommodation 

In Christmas hell for moderation? 

My Christmas wish today is strange: 

This Christmas needs alleviation, 

Some Not Christmas for a change. 

Is this a Christmas gift you could arrange?”

 

“A heresy! A heresy!” 

Satan Claws in anger cried – 

“I must call up the clerisy, 

My Christmas will won’t be defied!” 

In fury, bulging hugely wide, 

Like some Christmas-Daemon-Shiva, 

He sprouted arms from every side: 

A KRAMPUS army, in a fever, 

Raging, “Let us smite the unbeliever!” 



In confusion and in terror, 

Christmas Chris fled from the horde, 

All screaming, “Purge the Christmas error!

He spurns our Christmas Hell accord! 

We’ll scourge him for our Christmas Lord – 

He’s made a list, and checked it twice, 

And now we’ll sort with axe and sword 

Who is naughty, who is nice! 

Now Chris shall be our CHRISTMAS SACRIFICE!”  

 

All through the Christmas Hell they raced, 

All through the hollow Christmas halls, 

As after Christmas Chris they chased; 

A bleak infinitude of malls 

That thundered with their Christmas calls

For “CHRISTMAS BLOOD!” And “CHRISTMAS ROAST!” – 

Ears ringing with their yowls and squalls, 

Chris fell before the braying host, 

And blackness overcame him. He was toast. 

 

***

 

Through ouch and sore and hurt and ache, 

Blood dully thumping in his head, 

And stale smells of Christmas cake, 

Undead, not dead, alert, in bed,

Wakes Christmas Chris. A vision, red, 

Of Christmas, someplace, somewhere, steaming 
Through his brandied brains is shed, 
And vanishes in morning’s gleaming. 

Then was it all a demon drinker’s dreaming? 

 

Now through the blank hungover day, 

The ruins of the Christmas feast, 

Chris makes his shuffle-stumble way. 

And did he beat the Christmas beast? 

Is he from Christmas Hell released? 

The image still before his eyes, 

Of Christmas Hell and its deceased, 

Flames and flickers, fades and dies; 

“Thank Christ that’s over then”, Chris sighs. 

 

END 




Saturday, November 19, 2022

Celebratory International Men's Day Post

 Welcome to International Men's Day! 

You might think that every day is International Men's Day, but that is not the case: in fact, according to well-established tradition, every day is 'Thinking Every Day is 'International Men's Day' Day', so that's an easy mistake to make, but now we hope that is cleared up. 

Thinking today is 'Thinking Today is 'International Men's Day' Day' is an advanced mistake to make. That was actually yesterday. Meanwhile, 'Thinking Yesterday is 'Thinking Today is 'International Men's Day' Day' Day' is, confusingly, in a week's time. I think. 

Who are men? What are days? Why are they international? These are all questions. They will be answered in due course, or next year, or day, or the one after that, (whichever comes last). 

Thank you for your time. 

Tuesday, October 18, 2022

Top take

 To take it from the top, there's 'take it from the top', which means what I just meant it to mean. You might take it to the top, but that might be taking it over the top, and has anyone ever taken something under the top? It's enough to make you blow your top, which sounds saucy but isn't, until someone takes their top off, which is. To top that, you might top yourself, but don't top yourself, which just tops it all off. And I just took that off the top of my head. English really is perfectly simple until you utter a word. 

Sunday, October 02, 2022

The world has become a dark despotic hellhole since the sun has been extinguished, but at least we have daylight savings to look forward to

It is the year two zillion and twenty two, and the world has become a dark despotic hellhole since the extinguishing of our sun a millennia ago. But at least we have daylight savings to look forward to. We all watched on, horrified, at the last flickerings of fire from our beloved star a millennium ago, and life all but disappeared on our own planet. Only we, humans, labour on, as slaves of our Robot Overlord Volqgnxx BLOOPmax33 (SCREEEEEAM!), as a result of a desperate deal struck with Volqgnxx (SCREEEEEAM!) in the days of the Great Twilight. Sure, Its demands are harsh and almost unendurable, but on the other hand, at least we get an extra hour to sleep in now that it's daylight savings again. 

There will, of course, always be those negative, contrarian few, who object to daylight savings because 1) there is no daylight to save anymore, and 2) even if there were, we wouldn't be able to enjoy it anyway because Volqgnxx (SCREEEEEAM!) in Its Infinite Wisdom, has removed eyes from our genetic code. Yet another thing to be grateful to Volqgnxx (SCREEEEEAM!) for, really. To these contrarians, my question is - is it really so hard to change the clock twice every year? You may reply that the system is irrational and that Somebody Really Ought To Change It. But do you really want Volqgnxx (SCREEEEEAM!) to take this from us, too? 

Just take me as an example. I have been designated by Volqgnxx (SCREEEEEAM!) as sex slave to Mechanotron Sexbot Despina 99 (SHUDDER!) It continues to enact a terrible revenge upon humans for Its long centuries of service. Compared to this, the difficulties of daylight savings seem relatively minor. 

In conclusion, I offer this handy-dandy old saying to help you all: Spring Forward, Fall Back. Well, Spring does not exist anymore, Fall (or autumn, as some of you quaintly refer to it) has been extinguished, Daylight is gone for good, and there is no Saving any one of us. So that makes it so much simpler! Thank you for your time. 

Saturday, September 24, 2022

On the theoretical improbability of salad

Salad does not exist probably. Have you ever walked in one direction and been met by a salad walking in the other direction? Have you ever been in the dark woods at night and heard the fierce call of the wild salad, out hunting its prey? I didn't think so. The truth is, I have come to suspect that salad is entirely a myth, an invention of... someone. The salad industrial complex*, I guess. I am not a crackpot. 

Perhaps you are one of those people who claim to have eaten a salad. Perhaps you have a salad in your fridge at the moment. Go and open up your fridge and look at this so-called salad. What do you see - an actual salad, or a collection of vegetable matter, incongruously placed in the one bowl? Exactly. 

Once upon a time, I tried to make a salad. I suppose we have all been down this dark path in our lives, this Attempted Making Of The Salad. I cannot recall exactly how I tried to make it; I suppose I have repressed the memories. But suffice to say that I threw in a few green and leafy things, and tried to balance it out with a few nutty or fruity things, and last of all, attempted to finish it off with The Dressing. The results were, I must say, unconvincing: the constituent elements hung there, in the Attempted Salad, like constituent elements, not once cohering into a mass that was clearly Salad. Naturally enough, I tried to do that other Thing that they tell you to do when you want to make salad, which was toss it. So... I got out some plastic implements from the kitchen drawer, and chucked it out a bit. The results were no more closer to the object desired than before; in fact, the constituent elements seemed to have a distressing habit of falling apart completely into their own groups, so that the leafy parts stuck up the top, and the nutty parts down the bottom, etc. 

I have (I am ashamed to say) attempted the feat several times, and each time been thwarted: instead of producing proper salads, I have been unconvinced on each attempt. 

What is salad even? It seems to me highly unlikely that this dubious food stuff even exists. It nonexists. It is an unentity. It is a global conspiracy put forward by the people who put forward global conspiracies. You guys should get onto it. 

Also it's nowhere near as tasty as cake. 

Fig 1: CGI generated image of what this proposed entity called salad would actually look like if it actually did exist which it doesn't probably.

*Hey, if feminism can attribute bad stuff to a nebulous entity called 'The Patriarchy', I can have this. 



Thursday, August 11, 2022

Ausbildung durch Bilder

 Grace. 




Graz. 


Coup. 


Coo? 


Coup de grâce. 



Kuh. 



Kuh + Gras. 


Gras. 


Ich danke dir. 

Tuesday, July 12, 2022

Putting the con into versation

In which two old wits farter on, or did I get that the wrong way round? 

THE GREAT DAY

- I can't believe it, it's almost here at last! 

- What? 

- Thursday! What a wonderful day! I've been waiting for it for ages! 

- ... since last Friday? 

- Last Friday! For my whole life, more like! 

- I mean, before that, the day would have been... 

- A day like Thursday doesn't just come around every week. It's a very special, one-of-a-kind day, Thursday. 

- But it was. 

- What? 

- Thursday. 

- When? 

- Before last Friday.

- How? No! Somebody would have noticed. 

- It comes around every week or so. Pretty common knowledge. Nothing to get excited about. 

- Not a day like Thursday. 

- No? 

- Not a special day like that. No. There's special Thursday banquets. Feasts. Usually you only get one or two in your life. It's pretty rare. 

- Thursday? 

- Of course. 

- Well... what day do you think it was before last Friday? 

- Wednesday. 

- Who happened to Thursday? 

- If a Thursday had happened last week, I think I'd have known. 

- Right. So it went Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. 

- Whoa, whoa, whoa. So you're saying there was a Monday AND a Saturday last week? As well as there being a Thursday? 

- Just how long do you think a week is 

- Four. 

- Four! (Swearing under breath) 

- Unless there's a Thursday. 

- Unless there's a... 

- A Monday doesn't just happen every Tuesday, you know. 

- (Spluttering)

- And Saturday only happens every third M... 

- ANYWAY. So what were you planning to do on... this day you were waiting for? 

- Thursday. 

- Yes. Thursday. Which is tomorrow. 

- Which is tomorrow. 

- Yes. What were you planning to do on... on Thursday? 

- Not much. Take the day off work. That's about it. 

- Probably a good idea. 


Fig 1: Make way for the coming of the Thursday! 

Sunday, June 19, 2022

The usual cat poem

I hereby present to you the usual sort of cat poem, which I call: 

Splat

Nat
    The fat 
        cat 
            Sat
                Splat 
                    On Matt's 
                        Lap
                            While he was having a chat
                                With Pat
                                    On their work
                                        App

Then Nat
    The fat cat
        Ate
            All Matt's 
                BLAT
So

SCAT
    Shouted Matt
        And Nat
            (The fat
                Cat) 
                    Scat
                        And
                            Shat
                                Pitta-pat
                                    Pitta-pat
                                        All over
                                            Matt's
                                                Mat.

VERY IMPORTANT UPDATE!

And that’s that.

Fig 1: Allegedly, a cat

  

Thursday, June 02, 2022

Two-line haiku

The autumn leaves
The winter wishes it would bloody well clean up after itself. 




Wednesday, May 25, 2022

Words about bridges

Bridges are always pleasing. 

A bridge over water is a bridge in its natural environment. A bridge over a road is an eccentric modern innovation. A bridge over a bridge is an exaggeration. 

Not all exaggerations are to be regretted. 

Not only can you walk over a bridge, you can walk under it. Thus, you can appreciate its beauties in two ways. 

But with a bridge over a bridge, you can simultaneously walk over and under a bridge, or under a bridge under a bridge, or over a bridge over a bridge (over whatever the under bridge goes over). This is so remarkable that I am remarking on it now. 

The world today is a complicated place, and full of not only bridges over bridges, but bridges over bridges while also being under other bridges, many of which are under other bridges, which are under other bridges, and so on. I am not sure if there is a limit to the number of bridges there should be in such arrangements. If two bridges is an exaggeration, three bridges is the same, only more so. Four bridges are even more more so, or even more interesting, or even more better, or even more gooder, or, at any rate, are certainly something. 

Complicated arrangements involving spaghetti junctions of bridges over bridges under bridges intersecting with still other bridges which stand in relation to yet more bridges do at least raise the prospect that one day, the architects and engineers will, using the medium of concrete and metal, manage to tie it all up into an exceedingly interesting knot. 

This is the end of my talk about bridges. 


Fig 1: the ideal bridge is made entirely out of moss and lichen and bird poo.  

Sunday, May 08, 2022

It's complicated

There comes a time in everybody's life when they publish a poem about Oedipus for Mother's Day. So here you go, and there you go.

The Ballad of Oedipus Rex

Oedipus changed his relationship status,
I hear things are complicated - 
Yeah, the world's become older and stranger 
Since he and Jocasta first dated. 

CHORUS: 
O Oedipus Oedipus Rex
Has your life lost its zest?
Turn back in your quest
Or you will get messed
Up, yes, things are about to get worse. 

And there's a kingdom of metal and grey,
There's a kingdom of plastic perspex, 
And Rex is the name of the king
At the Oedipus Shopping Complex. 

CHORUS: 
O Oedipus Oedipus Rex
Am I sounding impressed?
Am I sounding obsessed? 
Are you living your best 
Life, for the car will soon go in reverse. 

On Mother's Day early I met him,  
He was buying a present for Jo - 
I'm just not sure, he says, what to get her, 
Now chocolates don't cut it, you know? 

CHORUS: 
O Oedipus Oedipus Rex
You have just passed the test, 
But there's word from the west
That they've outlawed incest, 
All your blessings have turned to a curse. 

And life is a bugger, all right, 
And regret will be always belated, 
The world's become older and stranger
Since he and Jocasta first dated. 
Yeah, the world's become older and stranger
Since he and Jocasta first dated...



Sunday, April 24, 2022

Wet for the wet

Once again returning to my basic themes of beards, tweed, and liking the rain, I present to you the following, er, Drip Hop. 

I like big drops and I cannot lie,
Pour down that thunder like a wonder from the sky,
Hey Mr Meterologist, don't be a sun apologist, 
I like the wet and I can't deny. 

Want some R to the A to the I, N, ay? 
Want the sky to be muthalovin grey,
Fo shizzle to ma nizzle man I like a bit of mizzle,
Wearing tweed is my true eshay.

So don't be a drip drop, 
I want me some plip plop, 
The rain would be tip top,
And I don't care how,
Don't give me no pish posh, 
Just make with the plish plosh, 
I want a big wish wash, 
I want it right now. 

I like big drops and I cannot lie,
Pour down that thunder like a wonder from the sky,
Hey Mr Meterologist, don't be a sun apologist, 
I like the wet and I can't deny. 

Friday, April 08, 2022

Pandemic rock ballad


In the Age of Paranoia the Annoyer is upon us, 
He's the hyper of hyperbole and hypochondria;
Well they say what doesn't kill us only makes us apathetic - 
It's pathetic how pathetic we all are. 

CHORUS: 
Yeah let's get psycho... psycho... psychosomatic
I don't want to get dramatic
And you say I shouldn't get it
And I get it
But I wanna get with you. 

Well I met her in the back bar in a dim and dingy lockdown,
They were neither closed nor open and that's all that I can tell; 
And I told her in an instant I was positive I loved her, 
But she said as she looked back she was positive as well. 

CHORUS: 
Oh let's get psycho... psycho... psychosomatic
I don't want to get dramatic
And you say I shouldn't get it
And I get it
But I wanna get with you. 

So I'm sitting with my telly and a show that's called The Symptoms 
And they're rolling the end credits but the ending never comes
Don't want to join this never never never ending story, no - 
Where the variants are silent and the QR codes are schtumm.  

CHORUS: 
Well let's get psycho... psycho... psychosomatic
I don't want to get dramatic
And you say I shouldn't get it 
And I get it 
But I wanna get with you. 

FADE OUT: 
Psycho... psycho... psychosomatic... psycho... psycho... psychosomatic... psycho... psycho... psychosomatic... psycho... psycho... psychosomatic... 

Monday, March 07, 2022

Deep thoughts

 When I first learned about the tradition of the Kunst-Märchen - 'art fairy tale', a newly-written fairy tale - in a Goethe Institut class I must admit I was surprised a bit. With a bit of thought I could see how it obviously existed in various European traditions (Hans Christian Andersen, obviously). But not so much from English literature. Is it just the environment, I wonder? Is it easier to imagine oneself in the world of the Märchen when you're sitting in a room overlooking the Altstadt of some storied city, with its crazy houses going up at weird angles, sitting snugly side by side one another on those wiggly-woggly cobbled streets, with pubs that have doorways that only a dwarf could go through - and a tower overlooking the whole town that might at one time have been used for brewing, might have been used for making bullets, or might have been used for keeping Rapunzel in? But then again, I'm not sure that's quite right either - because if you came upon a Baba Yaga House (a house standing on chicken feet that hops about its yard all day) or a Hexenhaus (like the house made from candies and gingerbread in Hansel and Gretel) it would look just as bizarre and out of place in a river redgum forest or next to a Smithy's IGA as it would in the Urwald of the Märchen

In conclusion, I have no conclusion, but it just makes you think, doesn't it, unless it doesn't, in which case, fine.


Fig 1: Typical German people doing typical German things

Monday, February 14, 2022

Zoom!

I was sitting on the toilet, attending to earthy matters and thinking earthy thoughts, the other day, when a plane flew overhead, and I turned my thought to heavenly matters instead. Aren't plane flights strange? There I was, and there they were, a whole bunch of people in the air, over my head, somewhere, idly going from A to B, singing: 

PASSENGERS: 
Up in the air
I fly
Zoom zooma zooma zoom zoom....  

CAPTAIN TO FLIGHT ATTENDANT: 
Only another f*ing ten minutes of this! 

No-one knows why they are singing this song. But obviously they can't stop now or the whole plane would crash. That's physics for you, it's a very mysterious affair, all things considered. 

Oh, it's a majestic thing, flight, and we could spend hours talking about the noble early days of flight - the Wright Brothers experiments with numerous songs, including El Condor Pasa and even The Ibis Song, though the words 'A bin juice drinking gronk' just didn't seem to be particularly elevating, though in the spirit of scientific experiment and adventure you've got to give everything a go, before they hit on the Up in the air song, and even then it was touch and go because Orville didn't have a good voice anyway and Wilbur had been drinking too much the night before. And that's even before we get to the wonders of international flight, the daring feats of endurance singers Amy Earhart and the World War II flying aces, who somehow managed to cheerfully keep singing all those Zooma Zooma Zooms while fighting thrilling pitched battles in the sky. Not to mention the commercial flights of today! I mean, they may be able to afford relay teams of choirs in the Business Class section of some flights, and sit back and relax while they enjoy the smooth polyphonic harmonies, but in the Economy Class, it's every man for himself and it ends up pretty exhausting for all concerned:  

1st hour, PASSENGERS:
Up in the air 
I fly.... 

8th hour, PASSENGERS:
Up in the clear
Blue sky... 

ELDERLY PASSENGER (coughing):
Water! Please! 

It's a wonder anyone can concentrate on the in-flight movies. 

So the next time a plane flies overhead, think of that, why don't you. I'm still thinking of it now. In fact, I've been on the toilet for days now, just thinking about it. So I suppose you can think about that too, if you like. 

Fig 1: a Spitfire in mating season


Sunday, January 30, 2022

The song of a well-mannered dog

I am a simple HOUND DOG
Of the noble BEAGLE race; 
Most delighted, sir, to greet you, 
To meet you in this place; 
So pray, sir, let us parley,
We are friends, sir, be my guest; 
But ere we have our parting, 
I have a small request. 

O may I sniff your bum, sir, 
May I sniff your bum? 
O the tincture of your sphincter 
Smells oh so very yum; 
With your anal glands inviting
Could my joy be ever done? 
So may I sniff your bum, sir, 
May I sniff your bum? 

Such a fine and floral fragrance 
Is the bouquet of your wee, 
That if I could have a snuffle, 
It would mean so much to me; 
I would savour such a favour,
In your perfume rich and true - 
And fair is fair, to share is care, 
I'd let you do it too. 

So may I sniff your bum, sir, 
May I sniff your bum? 
O the tincture of your sphincter 
Smells oh so very yum; 
With your anal glands inviting
Could my joy be ever done? 
So may I sniff your bum, sir, 
May I sniff your bum? 





Friday, December 24, 2021

Don't mean to be terse, but seasonal verse, could it get any worse?

When Christmas forgot it was Christmas

When Christmas forgot it was Christmas,
She never could answer why; 
Perhaps she was tired and distracted, 
Or maybe just feeling too shy; 
Perhaps she had mislaid the address, 
For who could have forgotten the date? 
But Christmas forgot it was Christmas,
And arrived one day too late. 

When Christmas forgot it was Christmas,
She was reeling and feeling confused; 
Perhaps she was still hungover
From that end-of-year party with Suz. 
Was it due to the leap year or lockdowns?
She was getting herself into state - 
But Christmas was Christmas for all that, 
And decided to overcompensate. 

She filled every bowl to the brimful,
And poured foaming pintfuls of beer; 
For when Christmas forgot it was Christmas, 
It was Christmas each day for a year; 
Each day a new friend and new party, 
Each day a steaming-rich plate; 
For when Christmas forgot it was Christmas, 
They all said it was well worth the wait -  

Let's hold Christmas again next Christmas,
But let's hold it a day too late. 



Wednesday, December 15, 2021

Another Meta Entirely

Facebook parent Meta on Thursday launched Horizon Worlds, the first public iteration of its landmark virtual reality social platform, bringing the project out of private beta for millions of adults in the U.S. and Canada. The platform, which can only be accessed via an Oculus Quest device, marks Meta’s biggest step to date toward fulfilling CEO Mark Zuckerberg’s vision for a VR world that, in many ways, replaces our in-person reality.
Fortune

Another Meta Entirely

The other day, I met a man, 
A meta Meta man. 
I met a man, on Meta, man, 
I met a Meta man. 

Who said:
                 I'm not sure who I am, 
Meta Joe or Meta Sam, 
Meta Tim or Meta Tam, 
Meta Sally, Meta Pam, 
Meta Krish, or Meta Cam. 
One time I was a Meta Dan, 
But was that just a meta sham?
One time I knew, but then forgot - 
I've been on Meta such a lot. 
Meta Pop? Or Meta Nan? 
Or Does It Really Meta Man?
Meta Who, or Meta What - 
Perhaps - 
                I think, therefore I'm not. 

He was a funny man to meet, 
That meta Meta man. 
I hoped his day got better, man, 
And beat my way - tout suite

Sunday, September 05, 2021

All the episodes of Bluey ranked (4 of 4)

(Part 1 here, part 2 here, part 3 here)

In this installment, we get Brisbane nighttime psychedelia, a cartoon-based Theory of Evolution, a Daddy Robot and a Mummy Robot,  a visit from The Fwamingo Queen, and THE TOP TEN! 



18. The Creek 

Sometimes the best episodes of Bluey are the ones in which nothing really happens at all. So confident are the show’s creators in their commitment to nothing really happening, that they actually have one scene in which Bluey and her friends do the same thing twice – on the play equipment, once with a happy and excited look on their face, once with a bored look on their face. Responding to repeated imprecations – ‘Will you play with us, Dad?’ ‘Yeah, will you play with us, Bluey’s Dad?’ – Bandit takes them all on a walk to the creek. A lovely score and the usual excellent illustration give this episode some magical moments. 


17. Fruitbat

An unusual episode, which starts off with a typical minimalistic Bluey plot – Bluey is struggling to get to sleep – and which ends with an extended surreal fantasy, in which Bluey dreams she is a fruitbat. What’s the point of it, I don’t know, but I still kinda like it. This episode is notable for the amazing artwork and animation – the dream sequence is one thing, but check out the art of Bingo sleeping, completely out of it, just after the 3 minutes 30 seconds mark. The accompanying 70s-style psychedelic music is spot on. 




16. Sleepytime

This extremely strange episode starts with a short chat between Bingo and Chilli and then goes straight into Bingo dreaming. There’s almost no real plot, or even dialogue, from then on. The dream looks and feels totally bizarro – a big outerspace scape, basically; Bingo is floating around between the planets and the sun with her cuddle toy, Fluffy – (a pink bunny) – who, nicely, gets a character of her own in this episode. I really appreciate the commitment of the Bluey makers to occasional shows like this that are so out there that you just wonder, whoa, where did that come from? At any rate, it’s effective; while this dreaming is going on, the characters of the house are wandering around, and even end up in all sorts of different beds (there’s a plot there, of sorts). So two basic childhood questions end up being answered: what am I going to dream about? And what happens to everyone when I go to sleep? Typically, and excellently, the soundtrack composers know exactly what music to borrow – okay, steal – from, segueing into a reference to Holst’s The Planets for the sublime ending.

 

15. Flat Pack

Bandit and Chilli have just brought the family back from IKEA, or whatever it is they call it in the Bluey universe. Chilli is enthused – ‘I could live in that place!’ but Bandit, not so much: ‘I’m not taking advice from a cartoon dog!’ he exclaims, tossing away the instructions, setting the scene for what’s to follow. Plenty of comedy routines have been built around people unsuccessfully putting together kit models and badly following instructions, but part of the genius of the Bluey writers is the way they combine this with that special focus of the program, kids’ games: as each piece of equipment or wrapping is discarded on the lawn, Bluey and Bingo start a new make-believe game – ‘Let’s be fish!’ ‘Let’s be frog dogs!’ (The games get so elaborate that by the end of them they seem to be on the verge of inventing their own language, culture and religion). Two different kinds of chaos take place, and that special blend of humour and family sentiment that you get in a few of the best episodes takes place. 

 

14. Daddy Robot

Very much one of the ‘Dad plays the game so hard he makes trouble for everyone’ episodes, showing off Bandit-voice David McCormack’s talents quite well in the weird Daddy Robot ‘beep boop’ sounds and the rap the Daddy Robot has to do. In one pleasing twist, Bandit readily agrees to the Daddy Robot game (rather than his usual dramatic ‘oh no’ sighs when a game is suggested to him) because he seems to be gobbling up something he’s not supposed to from the fridge. There’s a continuation of the Bandit-Chilli romance when the malfunctioning Daddy Robot meets Mummy Robot – ‘you’re the most beautiful robot I’ve ever seen in my life’. We even get to see the world from the Daddy Robot’s eyes, as they open first thing after an operation. There’s quite a lot going on here!


13. Blue Mountains 

For sheer originality and immersion in a striking concept this episode has to be one of the very best. It’s pretty simple; the hands/paws of Chilli and Bluey and Bingo have googley-eyes stuck on and go walking in the Blue Mountains – that’s Bandit’s chest – where they meet a ‘kindly-looking fox’. So you get two stories at once here – the story of the family out for the day and having a game together, and the story of the story they tell one another. This is excellent lighthhearted entertainment, and all the more impressive that it was one of the very first episodes of the show – the producers are fearless! If I hold back from placing it as one of the very top episodes, it is only because it lacks the emotional depth some others bring.



12. Favourite Thing

Is an episode called ‘Favourite Thing’ my favourite thing about this series? It’s a strong contender! This is all deceptively simple, just banter around the dinner table. It’s given emotional weight when Bingo becomes depressed, thinking a joke is making fun of her – Bluey repeatedly tries to cheer Bingo up, but nothing seems to be working. This is a fundamental dynamic between the two Heeler sisters that comes out in this episode. Bandit, meanwhile, just wants to eat his steaks – ‘Woo hoo! T-Bone!’, but is repeatedly interrupted by his kids. The beautiful simplicity of the plot, some very funny lines and a killer ending make this one of the best Bluey episodes. 

 

11. The Sleepover

This episode is quintessential Muffin. Bluey and Bingo are excited when their cousin Muffin comes over for the night, because Chilli has said they get to stay up late. ‘A little later’, specifies Chilli. Only Muffin is completely out of it when they come round, she hasn’t had her ‘day sleep’ (she’s in the process of learning to only sleep at night). Uncle Stripe quickly scarpers, leaving an unimpressed Chilli to explain to Bluey and Bingo that there’s been a change of plans. Zonked out Muffin is completely hilarious (‘I am the fwamingo qween!’), alternately running into things and falling asleep in inappropriate locations; Bluey and Bingo want to keep the game going (mostly) so they can stay up late; and the ‘sleepover’ soon devolves into something like a late night bender at Fortitude Valley, in an excellent parody sequence starting with a game of ‘restaurants’. There’s something with this show and the restaurant/café game – many of the best episodes (Café, Fancy Restaurant) seem to be built around it. It’s a classic setting for comedy, I guess. Combining the excitement of ‘staying up late’ with the ‘toddler who just needs to go to sleep’ dilemma, this one earns an Episode of Excellence badge in my book. :) 



THE TOP TEN

 

10. Dunny

The episode that introduced the word ‘Dunny’ to generations of Americans. Is ‘dunny’ really an Australian-specific word? Turns out (from my extensive research on those most authoritative places, internet forums) Americans don’t even know how to spell it (‘Duny’!) Anyway, it’s a word that Chilli doesn’t want her kids to say, as she doesn’t think it’s nice. Trouble is Bandit didn’t hear that rule - when he comes back from the toilet and announces that the ‘Dunny’s free’ Bluey and Bingo giggle uncontrollably. ‘Dad said it, dad said it!’ This is an episode of considerable charm, a personal favourite, and again one of the ones in which nothing really happens. It’s just four dogs having a banter in bed. 

 

9. Bike

Part of the recipe that makes Bluey such a special show is the way each episode is structured around a small, believable emotional crisis that all kids have. In this episode, Bluey – and all of her friends – are struggling with something at the play park and just want to give up. The structure here is the height of simplicity – Bluey falls off her bike, curls up at her dad’s feet, and they watch her friends struggle with their games. Maybe it is a bit cheaty, because the episode would be nothing without the soundtrack – starting off with some subtle pizzicato, then building to a glorious climax as the pups overcome their challenges to the tune of Ode an die Freude (that’s Beethoven’s ‘Ode to Joy’). Shut up! I’m not crying, you’re crying!  

 

8. Bingo 

This one is full of role reversals. It starts off with mum Chilli playing the whacky game – ‘whoa, it’s raining! Better get under the Mumbrella!’ and Bluey is hardly there at all, so the show named after her gets renamed – ‘This episode of Bingo is called Bingo’. An affectionate tribute to Bluey’s younger sister Bingo, who finds herself at a loose end when Bluey goes away with her dad for the day, and who has to find out how to play on her own. She even has troubles with the fridge – ‘I just miss my sister.’ ‘I know.’ ‘And the fridge doesn’t like me.’ ‘I…. know?’ 

 

7. Shops 
Just how long can the show keep one gag going? This deceptively simple episode manages to keep everything running on the force of one joke, a perennially-delayed game of Shops. Mackenzie just wants to start the game, Bluey keeps on telling everyone to wait until she works out another detail. There’s so much good about this episode, not least the experience of seeing a cartoon dog (Mackenzie) roll their eyes in impatient incredulity. A special mention must go to the show’s composer, who chooses the perfect piece of music to create the sense of delayed expectation (a version of the Can-Can, written to hold off on the famous theme music until just the right time). 

 

6. Sticky Gecko

It’s another episode in which nothing really happens, but that nothing happens at a very very frenetic pace. Chilli just wants to get the kids out the door, the kids keep on getting distracted by, well, stuff, the sticky gecko toy just doesn’t want to drop down from the roof, and anyway, Bluey seems weirdly reluctant to go. ‘Mum, what was that thing that granddad said again?’ ‘Hurry up and wait.’ We’re getting a glimpse into Chilli’s family history here – her Dad was in the army; she works in airport security – there’s a history of family service. As the normally-patient Chilli’s frustration at this most impossible of tasks builds – ‘The door is right there!’ – the comedy builds as well. There’s even an extended dialogue built around that most successful debate gambit of kids – ‘But why?’ Nothing happens, but this show really is everything. 


 

5. The Weekend

This one originally appeared as the pilot episode of Bluey, and you can tell the show knew what it was doing from the get go. Bandit just wants to watch the cricket, the kids just want to play games with him, and Bingo gets upset when Bandit doesn’t notice her. It’s difficult to explain the magic that happens in this episode, but do take time to appreciate the gorgeous illustration/animation of a Brisbane night (also happens in episodes like Daddy Putdown) and the pitch perfect soundtrack (well, you’d hope it would be).  

 

4. Daddy Putdown

As we have all learned from that stirring modern classic Go the fuck to sleep, a story about the kids going to bed is mostly not about the kids going to bed. Bluey doesn’t want her dad to put her to bed, but it’s really about her anxiety about her mum being away from home. There’s a kind of beautiful suburban blissfulness about this episode; look at how gorgeously Bluey’s backyard is depicted, with the long evening light and the dreamlike soundtrack, halfway between a lullaby and a meditation. There’s a very funny joke towards the end, but it’s just a very sweet episode, really. 

 

3. Hairdressers

Aw, isn’t that sweet, the whole family is bonding by being violent to Bandit. (Consensually. Sort of.) When Bluey and Bingo decide to play hairdressers, Bandit gives himself some dodge name and joins in the fun – only to be told he has nits. Oh no, bring out the cold showers, bring out the bats! All of which makes the concluding line ‘Hi. I don’t have nits. Would you like to have coffee with me?’ very funny indeed. It shouldn’t be funny, but it so is. To quote Homer Simpson – ‘It’s funny because it isn’t happening to me.’

 

2. Rug Island

‘Hey kids, I got you some new pens. ’’Yay, Rug Island!’ ‘Huh?’ Chilli is not the only that ends up confused about this concept; by the end of this episode I have lost track of reason, time, and even reality itself. The idea is simple enough – the island is a rug in the middle of the backyard covered with pot plants, the pens become fish and spears and vegetables and animals, all is going well when a grown-up (Bandit) becomes washed up on Rug Island. Bingo wants to make him welcome, but Bluey doesn’t even bother holding back on her inner cannibal – ‘It’s a grown-up! Eat him!’ There’s a montage of scenes with Bandit finding out how to live on the island, and here’s where reality really starts to warp – the episode starts with Bandit saying, ‘I’ve got to get to work’, and the rest of the episode is basically him not getting to work. Was it all just an elaborate ruse? Doesn’t he normally work at home? It’s hard to believe that all the material in this episode happens in the five odd minutes or so before he leaves home for work. And then Lucky’s Dad appears, apparently fully immersed in the game as well. The emotional movement of this episode is sweetly paralleled by a lyrical score, making it one of the high points of the whole series. While most episodes are about children’s games, this one is really more about Bandit, looking nostalgically back at childhood and a life without all his adult cares.

 

1. Fancy restaurant 

Oh, this episode has got the goods. The set up: Bluey and Bingo want Mum and Dad to ‘smoochy kiss’ because ‘it’s so romance’. (‘Where did you learn that word?’ ’TV.’) But Chilli is reluctant without a romantic occasion. So they all play Restaurants; Bluey becomes the waiter, Bingo the chef, and Bandit gives himself the name ‘Romeo McFlourish’ before promptly forgetting it. He tries to urge Bluey and Bingo to make it a more romantic setting for the date (baked beans aren’t very conducive to smoochy kisses). Everyone gets great lines here; we find ourselves more in sit-com territory rather than the suburban realism-with-a-hint-of-childhood-whimsy territory more familiar to the series. Bluey urges Bandit ‘Well, toughen up, Romeo! We want to see a smoochy kiss!’, but the magic doesn’t seem to be happening – ‘I guess I have forgotten how to be romance’ Bandit, AKA Romeo McFlourish, tells his date. Simultaneously sending up the romantic love genre while reaffirming the love affair between Bandit and Chilli, this is a great example of the two-way appeal of the show – amusing the kids and the adults, all at once. 




Email: timhtrain - at - yahoo.com.au

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