Seen In A Bookshop

TITLE:
Minor Attic Orators: Lycurgus, Dinarchus, Demades, Hyperides.

TRANSLATED BY:
J O Burtt

Well, Lycurgus, Dinarchus, Demades and Hyperides don't think you're all that crash hot either, Burtty boy. Why don't you stand in the burning sun before a drunken senate and we'll see how you like it, eh? Eh?

Literate Literary Criticism

Oedipus Doesn't Like It Much Either,
Or,
What The Critics Said About The Anti-Oedipus
(For Karen)

Anti-Oedipus
Read The Anti-Oedipus
But found the results to be
"Quite unmemorous"

Oedipal Ants
Read The Anti-Oedipus
But page 24, they say,
"Tasted odious"

But the Anti-Anti-
Anti-Oedipals
Judge the book to be
"Thorougly readable." *

The Pals Of Oedi**
And Supporters Of Rex***
All declare they'd like to make
The Anti-Oedipus ex.

Oedipus' Aunt
Read The Anti-Oedipus
But the things she says are
Rude and venomous.

As for Oedipus -
Well, he
Spoke to his subconscious
And they both agree
That The Anti-Oedipus
Is anti-you,
and anti-me,
and anti-us,
And is, generally, crap
To the nth degree.

*(The things Oedipus' Aunt
Says of these Anti-Anti-Oedipals
Are quite frankly, shocking-
ly unrepeatable.)

** P.O.O.

*** S.O.R.

Light Blogging

Some people like Photons, but I'm more of a Wave man myself.

What's your favourite type of light? Particulate or wave form?

Two Things

1. More crapulous poetry by me. I really went overboard with the cute metaphors in this one.

2. Tim Sterne asks for contributions for a 'quarterly online review or journal or whatever you want to call it.' He might just be able to pull it off.

I'll be back later!

Encounters With The Square Root of Two

A Character Sketch

Description
1.4142135623
Has, I'm sad to say
A wholly unengaging personality.

He first ran into me
At a party hosted by Pythagoras.

"Hello!" he cried. "I'm the square root of two -
Who are you?"

He denies it. But it's true.

Physical Habits
1.4142135623
Picks his nose.

I was really quite surprised that, being an abstract numerical concept, he had a nose to pick
But he showed me - it was there
At about the five-hundred-trillionth decimal place.
I was too surprised to be shocked when he took the snot and rolled it into a gigantic ball and gave it a flick.
(It was his party trick).

He doesn't wash his hands.
He calls you on the phone while he is sitting on the toilet.
He shouts.
He makes raspberry sounds when he wants to enter into a conversation.
He scratches his groin when he wants to leave a conversation.
He collects rude jokes.
He shares rude jokes at breakfast.

1.4142135623
Is not good company.

Birth
1.4142135623
Has a dubious ancestry.

He tells some nonsense
About being the length of a hippopotamus
On a right-wing triangle.

But I don't believe him.
He lies all the time.
He is an impossible figure.

A Warning
1.4142135623
Is monotonous -

He just goes on and on.

General Observations
1.4142135623
Despite being monotonous
Should be kept away from theorems
And hypoteneuse.

They get wildly drunk
And just go on for hours
Talking about theology
Or higher powers
Or how to get a good square root
Or flowers.

Disclaimer
Some accuse me
Of discriminating
against
1.414213
(etc, etc, etc, etc, etc)

This is not true.

I much prefer e.

She
Is much nicer,
Likes to talk about interesting things,
And is, incidentally,
Quite beautiful -
Almost transcendentally.

Good News for 86

They have entries for numbers at Wikipedia. I've just learned that 86 is a happy number. Isn't that nice?

UPDATE! - If 86 is happy, then 69 must be freaking ECSTATIC!

UPDATE! AGAIN! - This just in: apparently 87 is moderately depressed, 43 is in a constant state of manic excitement, and if 86 saw its tax statement for this year, there's no way it would stay happy...

Take That, Spenserian Stanza!

This is for Charles. Hopefully this will teach him to have a go at Spenser. Reading The Fairy Queen? He never had it so good (compared to this)...

THE HAIRY QUEENE, BOOK N, CANTO LVXXXIII

Into a forest, dark, decayed -
Called "Wood You Cannot See For Trees" -
A wild waste (no light, all shade)
Came foorth doollefull DIOGENES,
(Munching on ham and Edam cheese.)
Behind him, on these gloomy ways
Follows the Dwarf MELODRAMATESE;
Before, a light which casts its rays
And glist'ring, seem to set the woods ablaze!

And nowe the dwarf tugs at his arm,
And now, with countenance most awful
Begs that his maister flee from harm,
Warns of a fate most grim and fearefull.
(His maister bids him to be chearfull).
They draw nigh to a dreary den:
The dwarf grows more aghast and tearfull:
"FLEE!" then he crieth, "This is MURDOCH'S DEN,
And those that lie within be ne Beasts, ne Men!"

Both peer into the griesly gloom,
While the dwarf cries out in shrieking tones,
With tales of impending doom,
And many horrifying groans,
And frankly irritating moans.
But deep withinne, they scry a beast
A-scrunching on some skulls and bones -
"FLEE!" cries the dwarf. "We've time, at least -
'Tis PHATARSEPHIL sate at his charnel feast!"

But closer still they draw and see
This dreadfull beast engorge its tail
In its north mouth, and out the south
Eftsoons disgorge it, without fail;
And round about, knights clad in mail
Do rush with swords and spiked-chains,
Its leathern hide for to assayle,
But all are crushed with cries of pain! -
God help those entrapped in foule Errours traine!

Then, eyes gleaming full of murd'rous hates
Does PHATARSEPHIL escry this payre
Stand, ghast and gaping, at its gaytes:
He reares up fierse into the ayre
For then to drag them into its layre:
But lo: DIOGENES forth thrusts his LIGHT
And its beames do spred forth everywhere,
And noble rayes of GOOD and RIGHT
Do spred forthe and conquer ERROUR'S night!

And in those glist'ring lantern beams
The BEAST itself doth fade away
Mid'st many corny squawks and screams:
DIOGENES and dwarf choose not to stay,
But ride foorth into the Lanterne's day,
Questing, questing, evermore
Through the darkling woodland ways
To bring the light of Life and Law,
To find the fabled, far-off Culture War...

Five Hundred Year Old Poetry For The Moment

I'm re-reading Spenser's The Fairy Queen at the moment, and it's been too long. His spelling makes even the simplest words wonderful:

pryme
cryme
pretious
made rowme
a gentle Husher (that is, an usher!)
richesse
gently grenning
Damzell
resownd
fawning wordes
ghesseth
blynd
traveiled
kist her wearie feet
The Lyon
powre
whot (hot)
yre
gealosie
swolne encreace
griesly
quight
irkesome

At one point, he even puts the word 'gorgeous' in a line so that you have to pronounce every syllable, 'Gor-Ge-Ous'. It has a marvellous effect.

This afternoon I came across the following description of Gluttony:

And on his head an yvie girland had,
From under which fast trickled downe the sweat,
Still as he rode he somewhat still did eat,
And in his hand did beare a bouzing can,
Of which he supt so oft, that on his seat
His dronken corse he scarse upholden can...

Bouzing can? That's not Gluttony at all -



That's Norm!

From Yesterday's Weekend Australian Magazine

Clearly, a caption writer at The Australian doesn't like Phillip Adams...

No Ilk Bar In Sight

I had the good fortune today to walk down what you might call Little Saigon - it's the end of Victoria Street in Richmond that's packed full of Vietnamese restaurants, tobacco stores, and the like.

My intentions were wholly frivolous: I wanted to get a photograph of a store somewhere on Victoria Street with the sign ILK BAR, because I thought that was funny. (I am a guy of very little brain.) I didn't ever find the ILK BAR, but I did get some good photos anyway...


(On Flinders Street before I caught the tram. It's Melbourne's Oldest Hotel no longer...)


Chinois, anyone?


The store containing more than one Simon.


Buy what used to be the seat of power here!


Ironworks furniture, the only place to go to get an Iron Lounge - very comfy!


Come in and buy a sundried florist. Cheap and affordable!


Retrospective Furniture: all its legs break the day after the guarantee expires, making you say, 'Hmm. In retrospect, I should not have bought this furniture.'

Disparaging Reviews of Everyday Objects

The Comic Mummy writes:

It freaks me out - even comics who are revered in the industry and in the public (and in my own mind) as brilliant, are subject to a panning by any old monkey who has access to a computer.

I guess that's just another difference between a public job and a 'civilian' one, for want of a better word. If you're a fireman, a lawyer or a dishwasher at the local pub, no matter how pitifully you perform your job, even if you're the worst insert-occupation-here who has ever lived in the entire history of the universe, chances are that nobody's going to bother investing time and energy into humiliating and bagging the hell out of you for it.

Hmm...

A review of my pen
I don't know what I expected when I first started using this pen, but whatever it was, it consistently failed to live up to expectations anyway. Sometimes it didn't write, sometimes it did write, and sometimes it wrote, but the ink had a watery tone. Then, one day, I took it on the train and it completely died, but not before leaking all over my pocket. Not only a poor performance, but rude also!

Quite frankly, I am repulsed by this pen.
1/5

A review of my flatmate's old couch
The 'old couch' genre has become a rather cliched one of late, but it is not without pleasures of its own. Let's face it, you don't expect much out of an old couch expect to be able to sink back into it like an old couch. (The metaphor says it all, really).
So why am I disappointed by this latest rendition of couch-ness?
One reason might be that it re-uses quite a few of the bad cliches from the tried-and-true couch genre, but none of the good ones. It swallows keys. It is dusty. It's pillows are 'lumpy'. The blanket draped upon it keeps falling down. It is uncomfortable to sit on (it is sloped, so that it gives you the impression when you lie on it that it is going to swallow you.) And when you do lie down upon it, not only your feet, but your legs as well dangle over the edge.
This couch even goes out of its way to exacarbate these problems. The middle pillow has teared back to reveal foam. The foam adds to the dust problems. The dark brown colour of the couch itself feels 'dusty'.
Finally, this couch has troubles unique in the annals of couch-dom. The gigantic pillow in the middle looks impressive and couch-like, but it is inconvenient to move. And the couch has an unpleasant, just-a-bit-too-warm effect when you lie upon it.

I do not like this couch.
0/5

A review of a sock of mine
Most socks have a large hole in the top for you to stick your foot in them. Some socks have a large hole in the top and a little hole in the bottom so your toe can go out to the other side. This sock has a large hole in the top, a medium-size hole in the bottom, and a large hole in the middle to intercept your foot as it travels on its way to the medium-size hole at the bottom.

It is a bad sock.
2/5

A review of the kitchen sink
Well, although I have seen several kitchen sinks perform in the past, I have to say that the performance of this particular kitchen sink befuddles me. I am not quite sure why this sink seems inadequate, other than a generally lacklustre performance of all the elements of its sink-hood. The hole in the kitchen bench is large enough - the metal, when plugged, holds adequate water, and associated item of cutlery - and the soap suds sit in the sink in a more-or-less comfortable fashion. Perhaps it is because the performance of this sink is so lacklustre overall. Its heart is not in it. You get the feeling that this sink wishes to be elsewhere, is unsatisfied with being a mere everyday object: does it have delusions of grandeur in objectdom? Does it see itself as a jerkin on the back of the poodle belonging to the King of Denmark? Or maybe it sees itself as a door knob to an important office on an impressive floor in an influential department in a sleek, shining black building in uptown Brussels?

It is as if this kitchen sink has already left us, taking everything except the kitchen sink.

Overall: disappointing.
2/5

A review of the battery sitting on my shelf
This is an ordinary battery, but the metal on it is roughed up and corrugated, making it difficult to put into a device. While any departure from the hackneyed 'Battery' school of art is welcome, this seems like mere gimmickry on the part of this battery. Perhaps it is meant to signifiy the moral decay of modern society, or the revolt of the workers in Russia? Whatever, the metaphor fails to connect. Also, it is hard to putt this object in an electrical device. It is an ersatz battery.

This battery is immoral, decadent, and it honestly disgusts me.
2.5/5

A review of a fence
The most interesting thing about this fence is that it has a hole in it. It is a very deflating fence.
1/5

A review of a bathroom mirror
As Liberace is to Rachmaninoff, so is this mirror to other bathroom mirrors. If on the off chance you were to see yourself in this bathroom mirror, you should refer yourself to a plastic surgeon or a priest, depending on your religion.
1/5

Pointless Epigrams on Various Bloggers

Mostly written on the tram.

1.
Tim Blair
Doesn't care.

2.
Kate
Is rarely late,
But like Priam*,
I am.

*I don't actually think Priam was late for anything important in his life, but I needed to get a rhyme somehow.

3.
Ampersand Duck
Shows courage and pluck
And noble tenacity*
In her vim and veracity.

*Not to mention an astounding capacity
For sagacity.

4.
Dr H. (first name, Lexicon)
Is recently Mexican.
She knows where she's at, man,
Her electorate's Batman.*

*Plus she has a neat flat, man,
And don't own a cat, man.

5.
There is a bean,
A certain bean,
Whose mad exploits of derring do are known to King & Queen;
He's jolly keen,
This bean, I mean,
Whose name, in case you hadn't guessed, is Nottlesbean!

6.
Diogenes,
sage
Of the internet
age,
Inveighs against
Soviets
At The Melbourne
Age.

7.
Him
Funny
Him
Smart
Him's
Blog's
Pure
Art
Him
Write
Quite
Clever
Him
Write
Bad
Never.

Him
Tim.

8.
Tony T
Drinks tea.

9.
The redoubtable Dr Cat
Owns this and that
And can beat out a 10,000 word review of 10 volumes of books in 10 seconds flat.

Blink And You'll Miss Her...

Rumour has it there's a blog brunch with Kate at Heide this Saturday!

Post For Broadway Geeks

Coming soon (as soon as I can persuade Eddie McGuire to send me the money, that is) - a comedy that only Broadway geeks living in the eastern suburbs of Melbourne could understand!

AVENUE KEW It's got LAUGHTER! (Enter Rich Woman, Followed by Richer Guy) RICHER GUY: Anything you can build, I can build bigger; Anything you can build, I can build bigger than you! RICH WOMAN: No you can't! RICHER GUY: Yes I can! RICH WOMAN: No you can't! RICHER GUY: Yes I can! RICH WOMAN: No you can't, no you can't... RICHER GUY: (Pulls out Permission for Development from Council) YES I CAN! Mansions or palaces, Gigantic brick phalluses That give workmen calluses And spinal paralysis - Anything you can build, I can build bigger; Anything you can build, I can build bigger than you! RICH WOMAN: All right, you don't have to rub it in. Arsehole. It's got ROMANCE! (Enter Lecherous Young Man and The Object of His Lechery beneath the light of the silvery moon) LECHEROUS YOUNG MAN: Oh, Murgatroyd! If I could only tell how much I lov... OBJECT OF HIS LECHERY: It's Alice, mate. The names Alice. LECHEROUS YOUNG MAN: Whatever! I love to see you standing there, With pearls and rubies in your hair, With diamonds, gold and silver rings, And lots of other expensive things, Yes, amethysts in your necklace, too - These things, Euphemia... OBJECT OF HIS LECHERY: Alice. LECHEROUS YOUNG MAN: Whatever - .... make me love you! I looooooove everything about yooooooooooou But most especially, chicky-babe, your Dolce and Gabbana shoe! OBJECT OF HIS LECHERY: Oh! (Faints in his arms) LECHEROUS YOUNG MAN: But most of all, my dear, Behind all these embellishments - The thing I love above all else Is your Dad's inheritance! OBJECT OF HIS LECHERY: (Snaps eyes open) Hey, arsehole - why don't you just marry him, if you love him so much? LECHEROUS YOUNG MAN: Hey! That's a great idea! I'm off to lobby Mr Baillieu to get gay marriage legalised! (Dumps Object Of His Lechery, AKA Alice, on the ground) OBJECT OF HIS LECHERY: Bastard! (Let's loose with a stream of homophobic invective) Plus: TRAGEDY! (When someone's son turns out to be gay) and HIGH DRAMA at the bi-annual Box Hill Flower Arranging Finals!

Also coming up: FAR KEW (A romance between two eastern suburbs voters marooned in a Labor electorate), JEW KEW (alternate title: "Kvetch, Boy, Kvetch"), a comedy about two rich people of Orthodox Jewish descent buy a house next to a family who 'support the Palestinian cause'. PLUS: Hit Broadway favourite THE REDUCERS, reset in Kew - about a group of modernising left-wingers who join the Kew council in a bid to reduce the electricity bill of that suburb, and end up reducing it to TOTAL DARKNESS!

Television For Extremely Inattentive People

24 SECONDS
A NEW TELEVISION SERIES WITH A CLIFFHANGER EVERY SECOND!

FIRST EPISODE

MAN: (Bursts into the President's office at the White House)
Mr President! THE WORLD IS ABOUT TO EXPLODE!

PRESIDENT:
No!

ROLL CREDITS.

Answering the Big Questions, Questioning the Big Answers

I got a packet of salt and vinegar chips the other day. Not Samboys, those things seem to have disappeared. Smith's Salt and Vinegar chips. I noticed that they were described as 'crinkle cut'. What is 'crinkle cut'? I opened the packet and they turned out to be ruffled. Since when did 'ruffled' chips start to be described as 'crinkle cut'? The names surely describe very different things.

Besides, anyone who knows anything about cast iron will know that these chips aren't crinkled, and they may not even be ruffled



- they're corrugated.



Incidentally, how come no-one ever sells ruffled/corrugated fried chips anymore?



And while I'm on the subject, people also have a habit of describing chips as 'crisps'. This is almost as bad as describing the milk bar/McDonalds variety as 'Fries' or 'French Fries', though none of these terms can live down to the execrable term 'Freedom Fries'.

This sort of thing would never have happened if Chicken Cackles were still around. But at least Toobs are making a resurgence.

TO SUM UP:

- Salt and vinegar chips can be ruffled, but not crinkle cut.

- It's possible that they may make ruffled chips and corrugated iron at the same factory.

- 'Chips', not 'crisps'.

- And definitely not 'French Fries' or 'Freedom Fries'.

- What the hell happened to Samboys?

- Who was the scumbag who put Chicken Cackles out of business?

- Toobs are back!

- That is all.

I hope you've all learnt something from this. Thank you for your time.

This Is All Tony Blair's Fault

Via just about every Aussie blog in existence comes this story about a guy who burst into a London restaurant and chopped his dick off in front of the diners.

HORRIFIED diners watched in shock as a maniac sliced off his manhood in a crowded pizza restaurant.

The 35-year-old Pole burst into the Zizzi eaterie in central London and grabbed a knife from the kitchen.

He then leapt on a table and dropped his trousers as customers fled screaming.

A witness said: “There was blood everywhere. Everyone ran out of the place.”

Surgeons battling to save the severed willy tried to sew it back on in the first UK op of its kind.

Quick-thinking cops recovered the organ from the restaurant floor after subduing its crazed owner with CS gas.

Well, that's just typical, isn't it? Small business owners are just trying to make a going concern of their little restaurant, and some political agitator has to ruin it by indulging in some self-amputation as a performance art. And who pays for it all? The taxpayer, that's who! I don't know about you, but it's pretty bloody obvious to me that this is just symptomatic of the decline of education in modern times.

Not that I have any objections to people chopping off their dick in private. Obviously this is a delicate personal matter and can only be settled by thoughtful personal deliberation and/or discussion with an understanding partner. Just don't expect them to come running to me for help when they make a mistake!

UPDATE! Have you ever chopped your dick off? What was it like? Would you do it again? Feel free to share your thoughts, feelings and life experiences in comments. Go on, don't be shy.

The Latest Ultimate Question

So there's a discussion here about what's cuter, mice, puppies, or hedgehogs, but I'm not having any of that. Everyone knows when it comes to Ultimate Cuteness, the battle is between a little-known species of Australian ant and a four-legged duck.

So, what will it be? Leptogenys?

Or Stumpy?

Who is the cutest creature in the world?
	Leptogenys, the ant
	Stumpy, the four-legged duck
	Well, fiddle-dee, I'm just overwhelmed by all this cuteness! I can't decide!
Free polls from Pollhost.com

List Of Smitings

(NOTE: This list is incomplete)

The Seven Plagues of Egypt

The Four Mildly Irritating Influenzas of Akkadia

The Two Really Smelly Twins of Bethsherharazad

The Striking Down Of The Palestinians By Lightning

The Static Shock Jehosaphat got when he Picked His Nose on the Sabbath

The Smiting of the Philistines With Haeommorhoids and Mice

The Nine Pesky Puppies of Jerusalem

The Really Really Itchy Fleas of Shemorgazad

The Unfortunate Incident With Onan and the Superglue

The Fifteen Tedious Bureaucrats of Dormogon

The Two Boils of Baalam

Yikes! It's mice! There's a smitin' underway!

Another Poem

Haemmorhoids

(n) a pain in the arse.

I will but pass them sitting by,
But I shall hate them ' til I die.