Thursday, November 25, 2004

Bloggers Pseudonymous

The dishevelled young man stood up and looked around the room at the circle of - oddly pathetic - faces. With shaking hands and a quivering voice, he said

Hello. My name is TimT, and I blog.

There was a cough.
Someone cleared their throat.

That's alright, Tim called someone from the other side of the room. You've taken the first step.

Yeah, called someone else. We're all bloggers here. We support you!

Oh, said TimT. It all started so innocently. A quick browse on the net now and then - a scroll through the regular links. But then I got my own blog, and it got out of hand.

He looked up, nervously. Then, as if encouraged, somehow, by what he saw, he continued.

I started browsing on other people's blogs more and more often. I became a regular.... after all, I knew if I surrounded myself with others like me, then I wouldn't feel so ... so .... so ... guilty.
It started doing strange things to my interpersonal skills. Like, for no reason at all, I'd start saying things like .... like ":-)" and ":-(" in conversation.

":-0" gasped someone in the audience. How did you do that?

I don't know, I said. I really don't. But that's not the only thing I did. I started - at completely random moments - leaving links to completely meaningless websites!
And then I started using acronyms... like ...

LOL! shouted someone.
WTF! yelled another.
BBQ! ROTFLMAO! hollered a third.

What does that even mean?, I said.

Nobody knows! said someone from the back of the room.

It gets so bad, I sobbed, that I even get an urge to blog this ... right now...and ...

There was a sudden silence. Then, from the up the back of the room, there was a soft tap....tap.... taptap....

Everyone swung around and peered into the corner of the room from where the noise was coming.

There, in the dark corner, sat a small balding man in glasses, blogging the proceedings on his computer. Completely oblivious to everyone's eyes - all turned upon him.

And Tim was starting to get that urge again...

Ayeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Performance Poetry!!!!!

Oh dear.

Seems like I'll be reading a few poems at Bardflys (the Friend in Hand Bar, Cowper Street, Glebe) next Tuesday.

How did I ever talk myself into this?

Hinty Hinty Hinty Hint

So I was seeing Mum in the house at Raymond Terrace on Monday when she happens to mention that she wants Sibelius 5th Symphony on CD.

Hmmm, I thinks to meself. Must make a note of that.

A little later, we go downstairs and she mentions to me again that she wants to get Sibelius 5th Symphony on CD.

Boy, I think. Is she trying to make a point?

A little later, and she lets it slip again - "I'd love to have Sibelius 5th on CD."


And then she mentions it AGAIN! - and she even takes out a slip of paper, writes it down, and hands it to me.

Maybe she was trying to tell me something - do y' think?

On a completely unrelated note, I'm thinking of getting her this for Christmas. Do you think she'll be surprised?

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

Notice Bored

David Tiley suggests that I start up a community noticeboard function on this blog to attract more visitors.

You mean like this, David?


The SCREW OFF! Society will be having a meeting at New Lambton town hall this Friday evening. A speaker is coming from Sydney to hurl abuse, swear, insult, and generally harass the audience.

People of all ages are not invited. Youse can all bugger off instead and watch television, you lazy sods.


The TIME TRAVELLERS ASSOCIATION will be meeting tomorrow in the year 2000BC. Or will that be meeting 4000 years ago tomorrow? I don’t know, they don’t even pay me to read this out, so frankly, I don’t even care.
Anyway, if you think you should be invited to this upcoming previous event, just let the association secretary know by yesterday evening.
The Association will be discussion their secret plan to kill their parents before they are born, thus creating a tempo-spatial paradox.


DNA Announcement There will be a meetying of the National Dyslexics Soceity in thre time days.

You if suffer from thes bedilitatatatating condition, you considerc houlds attenending.

When: February 30th

Where: Hamilton St.


RACISTS AGAINST SEXISM are a group meeting fortnightly. Their aims are to combat entranched patriarchal systems whenever and wherever they find them, and to further their virulent anti-semitic-asiatic-mediterranean-anyone-not-Anglo-Saxon-prejudice.



The Committee for the Appreciation of Nothing will not be meeting in Hamilton in 2 days time.
If you are not interested in not furthering the public appreciation of a non-entity, then don’t come along to not add your valuable unput!


Yobbos will be gathering in Broadmeadow at 2.35pm this Friday evening. Items on the itinerary include: Screaming, Shouting, Hurling Rocks, and Vomiting. Everyone is welcome to come along.


The Local Apathetics meeting on Monday has been cancelled due to Over-interest


The Annual Procrastinators dinner has been put off.


International Celebrity Osama bin Laden will be appearing at Grace Bros, Newcastle, at the start of next week. Infidels who wish to see the streets run with blood, not to mention the downfall of western civilization, are cordially invited. It promises to be a fun day of death and destruction for the whole family.

Nah. It'll never catch on.

When I Grow Up


I'm convinced that one's twenties are the best time of one's life. In fact, I have decided that 30 will not signify the beginning of the Big Wind Down for me, as I must have decided it would, subconsciously, years ago. Approaching Thirty has been a big thing for me. I have felt on the verge of Thirty since I turned twenty. I realized one day that the boundary of Thirty was something I had invented myself, albeit unwittingly; an invisible obstacle in the way of eternal youth. While I don't kid myself that youth is eternal, I have consciously decided that my thirties will be just as fun and rewarding as my twenties...

Seems Gem is satisfied with her age.

Not me: I won't be satisfied until I'm an old curmudgeon. When I grow up, I want to be 85 years and 26 days old. Then I will have achieved my life's ambition. On that day, I intend to do three things:

1) Fire off an irascible letter to the editor of the Sydney Morning Herald, bemoaning the state of Today's Youth and lamenting the decline of our Once Great Western Civilization;

2) Listen to On Wenlock Edge by Ralph Vaughan Williams, while drinking gin and tonic, with a tear running down my face;

3) Seek out the abode of Dame Edna Everage and stand below her window, reading Alexander Pope until she agrees to marry me.

On the following day, my aim attained, I shall suffer a massive cardiac arrest and expire.

It is a dream I have.

Sunday, November 21, 2004

Live Idol Blogging

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod the results of Australian Idol 2004 are about to be announced, and I'm not sure what to think! I'm all conflicted! My Right Wing Fascist Fuck alter-ego is vying with my inner Communist-Lesbian-Hippy. On the one hand, you have Casey Donovan, young, female, fighting the OPPRESSIVE POWER OF THE AUSTRALIAN MUSICAL PATRIARCHY!, and on the other hand, you have Anthony Callea, ethnic, working class, and A PHALLUS WIELDING OPPRESSOR!

Judging from the various responses to the Australian Election, whatever the results of the Australian Idol vote are, they will be:

a) A victory for common sense and a triumphant reassertion of Western Culture over the Islamicists;
b) Yet more evidence, if any more was needed, of the blatant stupidity and selfishness of the Australian people, and representative of the death of Australian values such as Egalitarianism, Tolerance, and the Fair Go.
c) An excuse for a lot of Very Important Journalists to say Rather Serious Things about the State Of The World Today.

My Fascist alter-ego and inner Hippy can agree on only one thing: the Idol contestant with the best hairstyle was Marty.

Update Casey Donovan has won. The Anglo-Saxon Chick has triumphed over the Latino Lad! I have only two things to say:




N 1 Ada ln

As you know, I'm the sort of blogger who likes to write about the really big subjects: War, peace, left-wing, right-wing, politics, philosophy, the universe. That sort of stuff.
So it was in a spirit of solemn and serious contemplation that I sat down recently with a copy of the Newcastle UBD and asked myself the question - How many streets with palindromic names are there in Newcastle? How many streets are there with names that read the same backwards as they do forwards?

Easiest to spot were the near-palindromes. Streets like...

Callan Avenue, Maryland
Hallam Street, Charlestown and Cessnock
Malay Street, Ashtonfield

... which simply require the change of one letter to become respectable palindromes. Some streets, on the other hand, required the extraction and/or addition of one letter to become palindromes:

Canna Street, Bolwarth
Edden Street, Adamstown, Bellbird, and West Wallsend
Edye Street, South Maitland
Pepper Lane, Anna Bay

There were two (by my count) word-palindromes - that is, you reverse the order in which the words are read, not the spelling:

Gan Gan Road, Anna Bay, Boat Harbour, Nelson Bay, and One Mile
Nulla Nulla Lane, Hinton

Not to mention oddities like Minmi Road (Cameron Park, Stanford Merthyr, and several other locations) which requires the reversal of the last two letters to make a neat palindrome; or Llewellyn Street, Merewether - where, if you take the 'yn' out, you are left with a most attractive palindrome.
And I shall not forget to mention a number of other streets, lanes, and roads which are, for one reason or other, noteworthy and interesting: Blackbutt Crescent, Blackbutt Place and Blackbutt Road,Cockburns Lane, Bogans Way, Dagworth Road (of Louth Park), Dick Street, Dickenson Road, Dickinson Road, Dickson Road and Dickson Street,Dixon Drive and Dixon Street,Hooker Avenue (of Islington - a very appropriate location), Hitchcock Avenue, Queens Road, Spoon Rocks Road, and (last but not least) Doghole Road.

But, amongst all these, I found a satisfying cache of palindromes -
Ada Street (which can be found in Belmont, Cardiff, Hsamilton, Mount Hutton, Telarah, Toronto and Wallsend)
Anna Place, in Wallsend
and Civic Avenue, in Caves Beach (there is also a Civic train station);
In Raymond Terrace, there is Glenelg Street and Tumut Street (there is also a Tumut Street in Dudley), while in One Mile and Wallsend there is Hannah Parade. Belmont has Nikkin Street, while Rabar Close runs through both Seaham and Dudley.
And finally, there was an Ede Close in Charlestown.

And that, as they say, is that. To all those who think that I have better things to do with my time than searching through street directories for palindromes, I say - yes. Yes, there is. But I'm not going to do it.
For those who want to delve further into this fascinating subject, go to, and do a search. Agent Fare Evader also has links to a number of maps and train lines on his site.

Saturday, November 20, 2004

On Not Existing

You know, I've always had a lingering suspicion that I'm not here - that I'm just the figment of someone else's imagination.

Well, now that suspicion has been proven beyond a doubt by a commenter at The Unpopulist. He contends that, while I seem to be a commenter on satirical American website Iraq War Wrong, that I am, in fact, the fictional creation of its proprietor. In other words, I am, in fact, Iraq War Wrong. Or he is me. Or we are all together goo-goo-ga-choo.

In order to sort this whole matter out, I attempted to contact myself and give him a good talking to. Unfortunately, his (my) phone number was engaged and I was unable to talk with him (me).
I tried sending emails to him on a number of occasions, but have as of yet received no reply.
Finally, I tried sending a letter around to his house, but merely received a reply from his secretary, stating that 'Mr. Train is unavailable for comment at the moment.' and telling me to forward all future mail on to him through his lawyers.

In the face of such irrefutable evidence, not to mention powerful logic, what can I do but concede my non-existence? Maybe I really am a non-entity, and all this scrawl you see appearing here on this website really is a mere production of your fevered brain. The internet (which from now on will be known as the Unternet, a far more accurate name), far from being the portal whereas real people are able to communicate with others, is merely a collection of electronic dreams and nightmares, in which thousands of lost non-entities - such as myself - perpetuate their non-lives for an uneternity of time.

And in the unlikely event that I do exist, then I'm probably not here writing this anyway. I'm probably some bum lying in the gutter, looking up at the stars, while the booze seeps through my pickled internal organs and my head spins and ...

You might think all this depressing. I find it strangely liberating.

Love to stay around and chat some more, but it's getting late, and I'm going to have to find a park bench to lie on and some newspapers to wrap myself in before it gets too cold...

From Out Of The Depths of Cyberspace

From out of the depths of cyberspace, a group of semi-anonymous bloggers mysteriously materialised in Surry Hills, Sydney last night, and converged upon the Clock Hotel for a night of drinking, socialising, and, er, more drinking.

Darp was there, wearing his pandagate shirt for easy identification. He was accompanied by the beautiful Alicia, who plans to be starting a blog shortly. Later in the evening, Alicia took out a felt-tip pen and wrote the words 'Psycho Jellybaby' upon a sticker, and then proceeded to stick this to her shirt. A fine name for a blog: let us know when you start blogging, Alicia, and I shall link post-haste.
Later investigations confirmed that Darp does indeed shave his balls, although I must admit I did not ask for physical confirmation of this assertion.

Agent Fare Evader had made his way all the way from Melbourne; this young blogger - Adam by name - is one of those most sickening things, an overachiever. Not only does he have an excellent blog at, but he also has an hour-and-a-half every week on a youth radio station in Melbourne. Plus, he possesses an encyclopaedic knowledge of the state transport systems through Australia.

Jess blogs at the website Ausculture - - and an examination of her blog confirms that she is as witty and entertaining in cyberspace as she is in real life. That is, very. During the drunken proceedings, she grabbed hold of the stickers and the felt tip pens, and placed a label upon her shirt - 'Busty McWench'.
If I had only had courage, I would have slapped the label 'Lusty McLad' upon myself and leapt upon her....

Almost all bloggers present were left-wing: the Right Wing Death-Beast contingent failed to arrive. I had to serve as the 'token' Right-Wing Death Beast, and was enthusiastically introduced to several people in this manner by Tim Lambert. He wasn't even really right about that - I'm too much of a vile centrist to be classed as a RWDB. Tim and I, as it turned out, didn't only share a name in common, but a connection through the Newcastle chess club.

As promised, slim and sexy Dani of easy tiger made an appearance then a disappearance. No carnation was in evidence.

Later in the evening, Tim Lambert and I went to the city later in the evening and discussed various matters over some coffee at the DeliFrance, on George Street.

On the whole, a fine evening's entertainment.

BTW - See here for an update. Seems Darp is having his Beeriod.
Update - Jess has updated already - HERE. No mention of YOURS TRULY, though. Hmmmph.
Update - Young Suki - from the website Suki Has An Opinion - has posted some revealing blogger photographs here.
Update - Daniel Boud has just posted photographs on his blog. I'm in one of the photographs - see if you can guess which one!
Update - Photos are now on Darp's blog. No prizes for guessing which one of these I'm in. At the time that photograph was taken, I recall Weezil was telling me how he came to Australia to have the privilege of having Australian taxpayers pay for his health. Or something.
Update - Reviews by Dave of Fulmination, Mike of Munchymunchymoocow, and the Psephite have been posted.

Friday, November 19, 2004

Expressionate Yourself

Protagonism, Impressionableism, Palestinology, not to mention creatures in the Watteau.... merely some of the arts terms mentioned in this post, again by Tony T. He writes:

I have to carefully screen my influences because I'm more of an Impressionable.

You always seemed like more of an exhibitionist, to me, Tony. But I can't talk. I studied music at Uni, where we learned of such things as the Frigidian and Ebolian modes.

Films That Should Have Been Made

Inspired by Tony T's list of most favourite/least favourite films, I've put up a short list of films that, for one reason or another, have ... er ... never existed.

ApocaLips Now! Ayeeeee! Angelina Jolies - er - lips have gone on the attack, and are threatening to destroy the world!

Eternal Summer of the Manmade Kind Diseducational film about the effects of global warming. Perfect propaganda for the whole family!

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Groom Our ageing hero, Indiana Jones, goes in search of a comb-over, only to stumble across a secret cult of hairdressers after his scalp. Truly Barber-ous entertainment!

Indiana Jones and the Last Toupee Only one thing stands between the depilating Indiana and the horror that is patented male baldness: the possibly mythical Last Toupee. But can he reach it before Patrick Stewart?

Legally Blind A blind deaf mute one-legged lesbian brunette struggles to find acceptance in the legal community.

Thursday, November 18, 2004

When Tomorrow Was The Day Before

I shall be grogblogging tomorrow at the Clock Hotel in Crown Street Sydney (or is that the Crown Hotel in Clock Street Sydney?)

To all my regular readers, perusing this post before the event, I say - 'twill be a fine evening, full of merriment and wit, and well worth going along to.

To all the bloggers who I met after the event and who are reading this post while nursing their hangovers, I say these drunken words:

Wgfkfjftg yerbloodyleftyBAStardcomEREansaythatNAAiluvyersepepleido....

I'm going to bed.

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

In The Beginning...

Was a parody leftist blog: "A Wrong War Like The Iraq War Was Cannot Be Idly Sitted By" - The Proprietor

Then there was the breakaway group parody leftist blog: "O, how I long to end you rein , you evil, vile, sputum upon the lips of the masticating monstous, machiavellian, manicheismatic, machinating, Capitalist fantasm that is Heir Bush's evil United Nazi Regime of jesusland." - Screaming Memes

Then there was the imitation parody leftist blog - "Beacsue it still is Wrogn. Pictures by CLover thelamb (little) to help us thruogh these trubled times." - Clover

And the explication of the parody leftist blog: "A blog about the most important blog of all time, ever: The Iraq War Was Wrong Blog" - Dustin

And now there is the satirical right-wing reply to the parody leftist blog: "Geopolitics and the art of war have been thrown open to discussion in our age. This is ultimately the root of all democratizing momentum. The Iraq war was the crucible of necessity." - P. Wallace Hedge

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

And Just For Good Measure

I'm right, you know. And anyone who says anything different hasn't been doing their research.

The Retrosexual Speaks

Why do there have to be so many fag hags and so few dag hags in the world? It's one of life's little ironies that, while women like hanging out with gay guys, it's the straight guys that want to hang out with women.

I therefore suggest that the gay guys give us straight guys a little advice in the 'how to make women hang out with you' department. Maybe, like, an Australian version of Queer Eye For The Straight Guy. Like, um ...

How To Be Gay (In a Non-Gay Way) When You're Not Gay

Hey, it makes sense if you don't think about it. Anyway, gay dudes who read this blog: what's the secret? Why do women want to hang out with you guys? Paul? Geoff? I'm looking in your direction...

And The Nomimes Are...

Mark Bahnisch of Troppo Armadillo has suggested a Troppo Literary Award for best emerging and young poets.

It is with pride that I announce my self-nomination for this very great honour. Let's face it: I am a poet of vast talents, an astonishing grasp of the English language, cutting edge political views, and I also look very nice in a dress.

Not only that, but I have twice been the Penultimate Place Getter in state-wide poetry performance competitions. Yes, I am officially the second-best! (Unofficially, of course, I am the best, but hey, that just means my greatness isn't recognised by everyone. Yet.)

Face it, Mark. The prize is mine.

Now having got that little matter out of the way, let's get on to some other things:


First prize (which I shall be earning) will be One million dollars, a copy of Edmund Spensers The Fairy Queen signed by the author, the Prime Ministership of Australia, and a round-trip of Europe.

Second prize (which shall be going to some other poor loser who is not me) will be Boris Karloffs signature, on biodegradable toilet paper.

Third prize (which shall also be going to an entity other than my glorious self, and who is therefore unimportant) shall be a night out with Ken Parish, proprietor of Troppo Armadillo. Enjoy your date, losers!

Fourth prize (which shall definitely be going to some pathetic worm whose non-meness is absolutely and utterly evident in their lack of wonderfulness) shall be a kick up the bum.

I also have my victory acceptance speech prepared. A small sample...

Well, it's about bloody time! I'd like to give a big thanks to me, myself, I, my parents for having the good sense to have me, and ... um, did I forget to mention me, me, me, me, and me? Oh, I did? Well, I'll have to rectify that...

(6 hours later)

... and lastly, but not leastly, my-abso-bloody-lutely-wonderful-and-beautiful-and-glorious-self. I couldn't have done it without you, buddy.

Thankyou, and goodnight.

Ceci Ne Pas Une Blog

My computer desk is like something out of the imagination of Salvador Dali. Ants crawl across the keyboard and slip in between the keys. Cockroaches scurry from one side to the other, scurrying across the two thesauruses that sit on the left hand side. A sheaf of unmarked, unprinted-on papers sit at the bottom of my printer. The occasional moth flys across my field of vision.

I wonder if one night I should just leave the computer on, and let the cockroaches walk freely across the keyboard, creating poetry out of the strange combination of letters and punctuation:

a;lsd fg'arejo ew iu, fdn wqlijdf m, qa, fkwel k nf, a; ; dlfkgljasldkgj l; kajd - n!

Or maybe I should just clean up...

Saturday, November 13, 2004

Miscellaneous Momentary Musings

- Gem recommends that, in order to get comments happening on my blog, I tell 'secret rude things' about myself. Well, okay. Here's a confession for you, and get yourself ready for this one, because you'll never think of me the same afterwards:

I was watching Kerri-Anne Kennerly the other day

I know, I know. I'm as surprised as you are, and possibly even more shocked. Anyway, the point is, Kerri-Anne happened to be speaking to these four ladies. They're essentially an attempt to combine the sex-appeal of stars like Britney Spears with the snobbish, gentrific attraction of classical music. "Vixens with violins," one website described them as.

Floozies with fiddles more like. Their 'hit' 'piece' of 'music', Explosive, is the most barbarous butchering of the string-quartet form that I've ever heard. String quartet's are actually one of the most perfect musical vehicles ever invented - anyone of the instruments are able to hold the melody, and the other three instruments maintain complex contrapuntal accompaniments. It works beautifully.
The person who "wrote" Explosion has a lot to answer for - the piece was ugly riffs on the strings played over the top of a grotesque, pre-synthesised beat-track.
And if I sound like an old curmudgeon, well, maybe it's just the result of having watched Kerri-Anne Kennerly in the first place.*

- Someone once described the show Friends as being for people who have none. It's a good description. So it was with joy, not to mention elation, that I greeted the news this evening that the show was soon to disappear from our television screens.
But what was this? Here's the way it was described:

The Second Last NEW Show of Friends!

Oh great. So they're going to keep on playing the old shows in perpetuum. The torture was almost not unending.

- Sophie Masson, an excellent fantasy author and essayist, has begun blogging at Troppo Armadillo. She takes to the form marvellously, and she's already spurred a lot of debate in this post, about the problem of Australian films.
My only criticism: she's writing about the subjects she always writes about. She's already covered the subjects of fairytales and fantasy fiction. Now all she has left to write about is the French, and she'll have her usual topics all covered. Then where will she go?

- This is pretty damn funny - a definition of feminism for the modern gal.

- Right-wing Death Beast, mis-misandrist, and all-round nice-guy EvilPundit has really gone too far this time - he's indulging in degenerate cat blogging.

- Generate your own anti-Rethuglican rant here. (Nabbed from Marty, who pilfered it from Paul and Carl...)

Um, that's about it. Not much to blog about really...

*Actually, no. I was always like that.

Tuesday, November 09, 2004


Made up words - so much better than the real ones!

Blotching (v) 1) Blogging and bitching (Credit for this one goes to Kathryn!)

Bureaucrap (n) See Pubic Servant

Cunterlink (n) 1) Institution designed to give people looking for work as little money as possible 2) One of the Pubic Services

Gempiricism (n) 1) Philosophy based on the words, wit, and wisdom of an internet sage...

Hasbeenager (n)1) Adult who tries to relive a mythical youth at second-hand by dressing up their child, entering them in fashion shows, etc 2) Parent of a tween.

Hipshit (n) 1) Obnoxious hippy 2) A dipshit who smokes pot, has dredlocks, and listens to lesbian folksingers all day and night long.

Hyperfink (n) 1) Person who posts links to their own website on other peoples blogs in a vain attempt to drum up hits 2) Link whore 3) Me (Also: Hyperstinker)

Motivalidactualatisising (v) Motivating the validation of your actualisation

Retrosexual (n) 1) Person who has no idea about relationships at all 2) One who is hopeless with women 3) Me

Pubic Servant (n) 1) Person who works for Cunterlink or other government funded services 2) A Bureaucrap.

Vegehegemonopulism (n) Plot by Australians to dominate the world by means of a foul-tasting yeast-extract which is spread on sandwiches. (Thankyou, Tim Blair!)

As always: open to suggestions!

Sunday, November 07, 2004

The Sweet Soothing Sounds of Ideology

Time for some political poetry. And who writes political poetry better than Lewis Carrol?

The time has come, the Walrus said,
To talk of many things:
Of shoes and ships and income tax
And whether pigs have wings...

Or Rudyard Kipling?

Oh, Left is Left and Right is Right, and never the twain shall meet
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at the Speaker's judgement seat;
But there is neither Left nor Right, border nor breed nor birth
When two citizens stand face to face, though they come from the ends of the earth

Actually, let's try that one again:

Oh, Left is right and Right is wrong, and evermore shall be,
Or is the Right-wing right and the Left-wing wrong? It doesn't make sense to me -
Oh, it's mandate this and it's referendum that, and it's all ideology -
Oh, Left is Left and Right is Right, and evermore shall be.

Thankyou, ladies and gentlemen.

A Comment on my Comment Commentary

Dear reader. I realise that my previous post might have sounded a little rude. I did not mean it that way, honestly. I love you. Please don't go away. I get so lonely.

A Comment on Comments

Sheesh! Sometimes it seems that if I want to get comments on this blog, I either

a) Do a political post
b) Put up photographs of myself in drag
c) Put up all of the comments myself

What is with you people? Don't you like my blog or something? Leave a comment on this comment on comments, or I'll ... I'll ... I'll come round to your house, and do something really bad to your mother!

UPDATE - Yeah, well, that "come round to your house and do something bad to yer mum" joke was shithouse. BTW, anonymous person who just posted a comment - why don't you stop hiding behind cryptic references and let us know who you really are?

Saturday, November 06, 2004

Stupid Is

Various responses to the Australian and US elections, cribbed from various left-leaning blogs:

"The election result was wrong ... It was disinterested, manipulated morons voting out of misguided self-interest, based on an effective lie, versus those who actually care"
"Yours in enmity"
"You should have to pass a test to earn the right to vote. Just about any sensible test would do, I think, as long as it took at least half an hour to complete."
"So, that's Australia. Racist, paranoid, insular, decadent, and endlessly self-destructive."
"Ahh, that's where you're wrong, TimT, in presuming I never run into the voters who put this country in the situation it's now in. I run into them all the time. You should see the dents on my bonnet..."
"If Americans vote for Bush, then they bring it on themselves, and they deserve whatever is coming to them. Bush is more of a threat to Americans than terrorists"
"And, for this, I say to Australia - you can go fuck yourself."
you ignorant, slack-jawed yokels, you bible-thumping, inbred drones, you redneck, racist, chest-thumping, perennially duped grade-school grads"

That's what it comes down to, is it? Hundreds of millions of voters of every race, colour, creed, sex, gender, age, from the city and the town and the country, over vast geographical areas, voting for thousands of candidates on the basis of various international, national, state, regional, local, and personal policies - literally millions of choices being made on election day.
And to some commenters, the majority of them are - stupid.

Offensive, no?

Actually, it's more than offensive. Consider this quote:

"You should have to pass a test to earn the right to vote. Just about any sensible test would do, I think, as long as it took at least half an hour to complete."

If you accept that a person with inadequate mental capacity shouldn't be able to vote, then who might you rule out? Well...

- Autistic people
- People with Downs Syndrome
- People with low IQ
- Schizophrenics
- People with bipolar disorder
- Manic Depressives

Yeah, my brother. Let me tell you about him. He's got Asperger's syndrome - a mild form of autism - and he voted in his second federal election this year. He did it on his own, and when I asked him who he was going to vote for, he said, "Well, not John Howard."

But - according to some people - because of his intellectual limitations, he should be barred from voting. Stopped from having a choice in the way the world, his country, his town, his life was run, by a self-designated intellectual elite who assume to know what's best for him.

Yeah, this assumption that only the 'smart' people should vote is a little more than offensive, and more than a little fascist...

UPDATE - Blogs I quoted from: Metal City, News, Rants Soliloquies and Reveries, Intergalactic Hussy, Presumed Nuclear War, and Fanatical Apathy. It's worth going there and reading the relevant posts, because I don't have the time or the inclination to put them in context.

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

The Ice Cometh, Man

The Nerdling draws ever nearer to Antarctica...

The closer I get to departure, the more, imperceptibly, I am detatching myself from my home. I feel I am already starting to see things through Antarctic eyes.

Go to her site. Read. Send her an email. Now.


Tuesday, November 02, 2004

Words I Hate

Thanks to Kath, occasional blogger at Willtypeforfood and proprietoress of Jazzy Hands, I now have a new word to hate - Journey. As in, 'journey of spiritual growth and emotional enrichment'.
The list is growing longer day by day...

Actualization (self- or otherwise) - Because what ever happened to just "makin' something happen"? (Daisy, in comments)

Generosity - Don't you love the way that people - mostly politicians or media-hacks - use the term 'generosity' to justify taking money away from tax-payers, and channeling them into useless bureaucratic institutions? They've turned a simple word - originally meaning something like 'goodness of heart, charity, willingness to sacrifice effort, time, and money for the good of others' - into something out of 1984.

Google - Why does the name for almost every major website sound like baby-talk? Think about it - 'Google Ga-Ga', 'Yahoo Yippee Ya-ya', 'Kazaa Aha'! It's almost as if, you know, the programmers couldn't think of anything better to name their websites, so they just typed in the first thing to come into their heads...

Inspirational - Often used to describe autobiographical books. Whenever I see the word, I am inspired to blast a hole in the forehead of the nearest person as a means of expressing my sublime frustration.

Liberal - This word has several meanings 1) Bunch of conservative old farts like Tony Abbott who are against gay-marriage, abortion, porn, etc 2) Bunch of American wankers - in some cases, literally - who believe that self-love is the path to world-peace.

Motivation - Motivation is a term invented by Motivational Speakers like Anthony Robbins and John Gray to give themselves a job. It effectively means something like 'making audience members give them money'.

Progressive - Left-leaning people who get together and squabble over who is the most oppressed group in today's society (would it be the one-legged vegan lesbians or the homosexual battery-hens from a working-class background?) like to think of themselves as progressive.

Sophisticated - Mum uses this word all the time to describe 'cultured' people - to me, I'm afraid it just sounds snobbish.

Spiritual or Spirituality - This is one of those words that is so vague that it can be applied to any circumstance at all. What the hell is a person's 'spirit' anyway, how the heck did 'God' come to have anything to do with it, and why should we be bloody concerned about it anyway? Spirituality my arse. I want money. I want money NOW!

Self-esteem - Why can't somebody be 'proud' or 'ashamed' anymore? Why do they have to have either 'high' or 'low' self-esteem?

Tolerance - People throw out the intolerance card usually because they're pissed that you disagree with them vocally. Tolerance is not being in agreement, that's just... um, being in agreement. Tolerance is when you have a conflict, when you can talk about it, and when you subsequently deal with the fact that you see things differently. So chew on that, bitch! Daisy, in comments.

Validation - Look, I just hate it, okay?

Many more, but I won't go on. I know everyone out there must have their own hate-words. Leave a note in comments and I'll put 'em up!

Some funny shit...

Mad Magazine - Bush Administration & Dr Seuss.
Email: timhtrain - at -

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