tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45070714802400839342024-03-14T20:33:33.143+11:00andy warhol goes shoppingtennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-85756481813055378502012-07-30T17:27:00.000+10:002012-07-30T17:27:13.759+10:00Trip away - day four (I think)Finally a video that shows something. This is in Mallacoota, which is a small coastal town, just before the border to NSW. We're still in Victoria, as we speak. Mallacoota has a population of 4,000, with infrastructure to match. However, in summer when the surf is good, the population swells to 10,000, with no increase in infrastructure (as you'd probably imagine.) We were there in Winter, so the pop was small and really, besides the surf (which wasn't great) and the walking trails (which were mostly flooded that time of year), there wasn't a whole lot to do. We stayed in a log cabin, that was 300 metres from the beach. You'll see a grassed area in the video, which I stated holds 400 odd camp sites. What you really can't see, is that each camp site is pretty much on top of it's neighbour. Which means, in the height of summer, you really need to love your fellow man because you'll probably be sleeping on top of him later that night. <br />
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<br />tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-25032780761285546862012-07-26T15:58:00.000+10:002012-07-26T15:58:30.828+10:00Trip away - day threeThis is a bit self indulgent I suppose (self indulgent coming from a blogger???) but this little vid is of my lovely daughter going for her morning ride. Lakes Entrance, day three, caravan park. And that's about it. Only a few to go. <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzHY4LpXbP3GgHvDKtX_gN1Z0_oqvNYrVL5OEwzf7WzWp9Zjgz9miCbBmjqZyE39nPQwr3y8xdsMtT7hcbuPQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-66848534964151693162012-07-19T16:46:00.001+10:002012-07-19T16:46:33.361+10:00Trip away - day twoI'm going to include two - count 'em - two videos in today's blog. The first is the lovely beach at Lakes Entrance, the first place we stayed. It was just on dusk and we had walked into town for tea, but nothing was open for half an hour, so we crossed a lovely little bridge (possibly seen in video two, I can't remember) and came upon the surf club. Lady Hem, being a surf life saver and surf boat rower, couldn't go past having a sticky nose at the club and, while we were down there, we thought we'd feed Syd, so she wouldn't be too grumpy. Having said that, she can clearly be heard being grumpy in the second vid. Mainly because it was freezing fucking cold. Beach was beautiful though and no one on it. Winter huh? <br />
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And I probably should mention that the second video is a short look at the town of Lakes Entrance at night. It actually looks a lot more beautiful in real life than on this video but I kind of like the atmosphere. <br />
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<br />tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-64822231589504915992012-07-13T11:49:00.000+10:002012-07-13T11:49:47.757+10:00Trip away - day one contThis next extremely exciting video is of the country town of Rosedale. I've actually done it a bit of a disservice as I've only videoed coming into town and not the town itself, which is quite lovely, if still not terribly exciting. There are actually more interesting videos than this but you'll just have to be patient. Where we stopped in Rosedale was just the petrol station. The price I've shown is the price per litre in the country. By contrast, when we filled up in Geelong, petrol was 119 a litre. Enjoy.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzKqBRfy9aESqWZZhZk-5aVii7SIKrevIwJzKtlM6cry3_L2L6FUjVUl863A91huYxn7rw44YSvN5UN7LgfKg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-42076432570660075902012-07-10T10:48:00.000+10:002012-07-10T10:48:43.218+10:00Trip away - day oneThis first exciting video is on the road to Lakes Entrance. As you can hear from my piss poor commentary, we'd just passed Mt Baw Baw but you can't see it, coz there's a huge fucking fence in the way. Oh well. Enjoy the open road. <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz9PPGm3TA2UQbulbTKbErYhn4KdnlIzKlwSsxyhEbL5jSSfHJZbgwgQ5knZN2Ng9EWASHt2X5r9eo-8NkO9g' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-40577526678553791932012-07-05T12:26:00.003+10:002012-07-05T12:26:49.967+10:00Lazy updateAbout to start a new job at the same hospital Lady Hem works at. Which isn't to say much, as Geelong really only has the one hospital. The one major hospital anyway. I'm going to be a Constant Patient Observer; basically, if you're a little old lady with dementia, or have had a major operation, or are alcohol and drug effected and you need constant surveillance, that's me. Should be interesting. <br />
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Lady Hem and I went away last week and I took a few vids of our road trip. I'll download them and put them up in a few blogs for your edification. I don't care if you're interested or not, I just need something to post. tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-35407360777042586302012-05-04T13:42:00.000+10:002012-05-04T13:42:05.947+10:00You want fries with that?<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><strong>There is nothing wrong with intelligence. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Doesn't seem like much of a statement does it? And, in truth it shouldn't be. It shouldn't even have to be said. But for too long now, intelligence has been damned with faint praise. The only thing that seems to be encouraged by anyone - politicians, journalists, bloggers, artists, people on the street - is mediocrity. Intelligence is the new elite; as if 'elite' were somehow a bad thing to be as well. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Why is intelligence so frightening? Why is learning so frowned upon, in our Western, Anglo-Saxon, English speaking world? Suggest to someone that it's 'you're' and not 'your' and all of a sudden, you're 'one of them.' A snob. An elite. A Nazi. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">I don't understand. I have no problem with claiming intelligence. Look, I didn't finish high school, but that doesn't mean that I finished learning. I know a lot about a lot of things but there are many, many more things that I know nothing about but I don't think I'm stupid because of it. And I'm certainly not proud that I stopped learning because, 'learning's for losers.' What the fuck? Why would anyone be proud of not wanting to keep learning? "Oh, I don't need to know that. I just need to pay the rent and feed myself. It's all I need to know. I aint no snob." Huh? People like this vote. People like this are <em>allowed</em> to vote. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Our previous Prime Minister - John Howard - made his whole platform about being an 'everyman.' He was most forthright in blaming all the ills of the world on 'intelligence.' On the 'elites,' of the world. How much more elite can you be than being a Prime Minister? Oh no, he just wanted to be like all of us. I've written this before but, I don't want a Prime Minister or a President to be someone I can go have a beer with. Or someone who knows the price of bread and milk. That's what advisers are for. I want someone who can come up with ideas to keep that price of bread and milk affordable, whilst providing me with the opportunity for a secure income and, even better, the ability for that income to grow so I can afford maybe bread and whisky. Or whatever it is that's more expensive and floats your boat. I don't want to place my trust in an everyman - effectively a me. I want a thinker. I want an ideas man/woman. I want someone who can embrace intelligence and use that intelligence for the betterment of ALL of us; not just to get re-elected. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">But no, Australia - and especially Australia because that's where I'm writing from - everyone is supposed to be as good as everyone else. There's no class warfare in Australia. Well fuck that. The fuck there isn't. There's the rich, the poor, the middle class; just like every other fucking country but we have this over inflated sense of ourselves as being as good as. Well that's fine, but don't do it by trying to tear down institutions of learning. I've always, always believed that education should be free. Free for everyone. That's what governments are for: health, infrastructure, education, police and military. But no, everything's got to be fucking privatised now. It's all small government these days. Look, I've no problem with the government not being in people's pockets all the time but they have to be there for something. And I notice it's always the ministers and politicians who went through university for free that call the loudest for up front fees. It was good enough for them but not for anyone else? To me, this is just an easy way of bringing everyone down to a certain level. A certain level of intelligence. I'm not saying it's any sort of conspiracy or anything but it's certainly very effective. There are still countries in the world who know this, who limit the amount of knowledge any of their citizens are allowed to access. And we're doing the same thing over here but in much more subtle ways. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">And I'm not saying that everyone should go to university and study. I never went and never wanted to. Still don't. If university were free tomorrow, I still wouldn't go. But again, it doesn't mean that I want to stop learning. I want to keep reading, I want to keep listening. Not everyone would go to uni, because not everyone wants to be what they offer. We need mechanics and plumbers and people who say, you want fries with that? Your job doesn't limit your ongoing education. Nor should it. There are truck drivers out there who know more about the work of Degas than people ostensibly studying Degas. Why? Because they WANT to know. Their job may define them in people's eyes but it doesn't define their intelligence, or their thirst for knowledge. Neither it should. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">It's like people who have made a success of themselves but still claim to be 'aware of their roots.' I'm still, I'm still, Jenny from the block. No, fuck that. You've made something of yourself to get away from that mentality. Isn't that why you worked so hard in the first place? Why, if you grew up in poverty and made a huge success of yourself, would you still want to associate with that poverty? Because it's more real? Ask the people who live there. Ask the kid who hasn't eaten in five days because his parents have left, or they have paid the rent and nothing's left for food. Do you think that's more real than desire? The desire to leave and never look back? Sure, go back and help change things if you want but don't use that poverty as some sort of symbol of pureness if you're doing nothing to alleviate it for others still there who didn't have your drive, or talent or were just proud of being 'not intelligent.' Fuck that, fuck that and fuck that again, I say. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">It's my biggest bugbear about this country. The pride in being stupid. The pride in never reading a book after high school. The pride of not going to university because, 'that's for snobs and wankers.' Fuck you man. Educate yourself before it's too late. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Which it might already be. </span>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-64355595152003741762012-04-24T11:40:00.001+10:002012-04-24T11:40:37.331+10:00Blues in E<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">So, still being - for the most part - gainfully unemployed, I've decided to 'sex up' my title somewhat. I'm now no longer unemployed, or a dole bludger (not on the dole for a start), nor even 'between jobs.' No, I'm now a house husband. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Great little title that. And I love it. But I wonder how many people - male and female alike - would frown upon this title and wonder out loud when I'm going to get a proper job. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">I'm still looking for work. I mean, why not? It's not as though I don't want to work, it's just that Lady Hem makes more than I do. Always has and always will. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">I've come across many magazines over the years, mostly women's mags it must be said, where one of the topics is male emasculation and the pay packet. Women talking about how they make more than their partners and their partners - while perhaps not come right out and saying it - feeling less like men because they're not 'providing' for the family. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Fuck that. It's all money isn't it? It's all OUR money. Supposedly. What does it matter who makes more? I've had this problem before, long before we had Syd. When I met Lady Hem, we were working the same place but she was at the end of her nursing degree, just about to start her grad year. At the time, we were making roughly the same amount of money. Didn't seem to bother anyone then. Once she graduated, finished her grad year and got a job (we'd been living together for a year then), all of a sudden - in the eyes of a lot of our friends - I became a sponge. I even had one of our friends say to Lady Hem that I was a drain on our resources. She couldn't say it to me but she could make sure I heard about it. I was still working though, just not making the same as, or more than, Lady Hem. But I could never compete with that. Anyone who's read this blog knows that I have little to no qualifications. Nor have I found anything that really interests me enough to go out and get a qualification. I've never been without work for too long a period of time but anything I can do now and into the future will never compete with what Lady Hem can do in two days. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">It was Easter a couple of weekends ago. She had a night shift on the Saturday (which she didn't end up doing as Syd was sick). In one night shift, because of the Easter holidays, she would've made upwards of $140 an hour, for a ten hour shift. She can make in two days, what it takes me three weeks to do. As I said, I'm still actively looking for work and I am doing a couple of shifts here and there to help out at my old job until the new girl starts so, I ask you, how does that really make me a sponge? We're not rich by a long shot but we're not struggling, Lady Hem doesn't work all the time so she sees her daughter heaps and I'm there looking after her and we don't have to pay $700 a month for fucking child care. I don't feel like less of a man, she's not worried and Syd is healthy and happy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Isn't that all you can ask? </span>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-88506354568553818422012-04-18T12:38:00.002+10:002012-04-18T12:45:15.992+10:00Baby post<div><span style="font-family:courier new;">Haven't updated on Syd for ages. She's almost nine months now and it going great guns. As she should be. Not crawling yet but talking a lot, not making much sense but clapping her hands on command and generally being cute. My little robot. Not really. Anyway, here's a picture. Not the latest but the latest I have at this moment. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></div><span style="font-family:courier new;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5732566172375541698" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FkXOturFQD8/T44qj7PdZ8I/AAAAAAAAAFs/qlVKPbnNql8/s400/Sydney%2B15%2B-%2B19%2Bweeks%2B046.jpg" /></span><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-82496779441619586572012-04-17T09:45:00.003+10:002012-04-17T09:53:02.474+10:00People I have met<p><span style="font-family:courier new;">So, I've left my job and the job I did a great interview for didn't pan out. Oh well. I've signed up for a temp agency and have had a couple of days work out of that and I'm also going to be filling in at my old job for a few weeks until the new girl can start. So, I guess all things considered, I'm not doing too bad. </span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:courier new;">Funny thing happened at the temp agency though; I went in there yesterday to hand in my time sheet and the guy who took it, I used to work with at the restaurant. We got to chatting and he asked whether I'd be interested in a Sales/Admin/Warehouse job. It's pretty much around the corner from where I live - a short bike ride at the most - and it's supposedly a very cruisy, no stress position. He did say it was full time, which I told him I wasn't interested in but then he said the hours were 7-3, which is the sort of hours I've been looking for for quite a while now. He's going to put my name forward and we'll see what happens from there.</span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:courier new;">Just goes to show, be friendly with everyone you work with coz you never know who might be able to do you a favour one day. </span></p>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-60976600221001417922012-04-02T10:51:00.004+10:002012-04-02T11:25:30.679+10:00As Autumn fades to winter..<span style="font-family:courier new;">So, April huh? Already? Yep, the time's just flown by. Even I can't believe it but Syd is almost nine months now. Almost a year already. And in all that time, how many posts have I done? About half a dozen? I haven't counted but it couldn't be too many, surely? Which must mean heaps of things have happened but, honestly, not too much. One thing that has happened is that I've quit my job. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">It's funny when you do something like that. The question everyone asks is 'what are you going to do?' And my standard answer is, 'I've no idea.' Because I haven't. I've been doing reception/admin for the past six years, so I'm going for those positions but only because that's what I've been doing. I don't love it. I don't see it as a career. In fact, I don't see anything as a career. I'm not too far from 50 and I haven't had anything that could be called a career my whole life. I've stumbled from job to job and have never really had a big problem finding and obtaining work. Because I've always thought the work I was doing, would only be temporary anyway. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Anyone who's read this knows I'm a musician. But there's no money in music; not really. I know that, you know that but I can't help myself. Every new project I do, I imagine it's going to be the one. But it never is. I have a new project now; working with a female singer. A GREAT female singer. And I think it might be the one. But in my heart, I'm still pessimistic. Yet...who knows? Who knows? And does it matter? I try to tell myself it doesn't but it does. Because I can't stop and it's the only thing I'm reasonably good at. And isn't a career supposed to be something you're good at? </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I didn't even want to write this; I've written this before and just rehashing old themes smacks of awfully lazy writing. My main point is that, I've not ever been able to find that <em>other</em> thing that I'm good at that should have become my career. Because, while being a musician is a noble <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">endeavour</span>, it doesn't put money in the bank or food on the table. Certainly not for everyone who attempts it at least. Nothing else motivates me though - not even writing. Yet, if I was all that motivated, shouldn't I have had a career in music by now? Moving away from <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">inconvenient</span> truths.....</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Leaving my job, in theory, is a kick start to a new life. But with this new life comes new considerations. I'm no longer the 25 year old, single <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">slackarse</span> I once was. I'm married. That marriage has produced a child. As much as I've spent most of my entire adult life dodging responsibilities, I can no longer avoid that label. I'm now an 'adult.' (Which isn't to say that people without children are not adults - but that might be something for another entry.) I have to be part of the income stream and that means getting a job. But I've never known what I want to do. Not in high school, not through the years. I've done many different types of jobs but never anything that - well, not makes me happy so much as doesn't make me want to kill myself in the morning. There has to be something out there though. Even something similar to what I'm doing now. Because I still have many years of work left. Might as well do something that I can stand. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">But what that something might be, I've no idea. I don't enjoy doing anything. Truth be told, I don't enjoy life all that much. Having said that, I'm certainly not taking the coward's way out. And I realise, having typed these words, that they're pretty cowardly on their own. These types of thoughts are so priviledged as to be disgusting. More people than I can possibly know are in such a worse position than me that I should be on my knees thanking whoever that I even have to chance to type drivel such as this. But it doesn't stop me from thinking it. And it hasn't stopped me from writing it. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">In the end, does it matter if I'm happy in a job? No. Happiness in your work is highly overrated. Some achieve it; most do not. And, if I'm anything, I'm one of the most. So the point I need to focus on is not whether I can make anything a career but whether I can actually find another job to put money in the bank. I've got a pretty good feeling but, who knows? Who knows....</span>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-26187407914239755022012-03-30T14:16:00.002+11:002012-03-30T14:18:59.516+11:00Listen here grandpa<span style="font-family:courier new;">It's a long list but the thing that's pissing me off at the moment is people constantly referring to 4am in the morning.</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">It's either 4 o'clock in the morning or 4am. THERE IS NO 4AM IN THE MORNING. AM MEANS THE MORNING. ADDING MORNING TO THIS STATEMENT IS REDUNDANT. AND SO ARE YOU!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Get off my lawn, etc.</span>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-67940141518336201902012-03-28T12:00:00.002+11:002012-03-28T12:11:10.231+11:00Why I'll never run for Government<span style="font-family:courier new;">There's no surprise that every election begins once the most recent one has been won. And so it is with us. Still 18months to go but the campaign has been going for at least twelve months, if not longer - especially from the Opposition. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">And what are they banging on about - besides the Carbon Tax and whether Climate Change really exists or not? Budget Surplus. It's every government's bugbear. What I can't understand is why. What's the surplus for? To me, having a surplus means that you haven't bothered spending anything on important stuff - schools, hospitals, police, infrastructure. I know having money in the bank is a good thing but honestly, what's it for? A rainy day? You can't get many more rainy days than what we're having at the moment. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Having said that, Labour has fucked up so badly that they're gone no matter when the election campaign truly starts. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Oh well, whaddayagoinado? </span>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-45273361189819198152012-01-20T12:16:00.001+11:002012-01-20T12:17:35.579+11:00Damn, I am one lazy SOB<span style="font-family:courier new;">And that's about it. First post of the New Year. Worth waiting for, doncha think? </span>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-84909975829491241822011-11-30T15:20:00.003+11:002011-11-30T15:25:09.189+11:00Linky links-a-lot<span style="font-family:courier new;">I don't actually. But I thought this might be somewhat amusing. Click below to see a picture of your old friend, tennysoneehemingway, when he was a lot younger and still playing in a band that had some potential. No prizes for guessing whereabouts I might be but kudos if you guess right.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><a href="http://www.sunsilveranthology.com/"><span style="font-family:courier new;">http://www.sunsilveranthology.com/</span></a>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-47268038552090950082011-11-14T14:24:00.007+11:002011-11-14T16:02:09.159+11:00Trippin' down memory lane<span style="font-family:courier new;">I was going through my old posts and when I say 'going through' I mean reading the titles and trying to work out from that, whether I'd written anything in a similar vein. Deciding that I haven't, I'll continue. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">My last post was talking about signs you encounter that reinforce the old age gap and one of the things I mentioned was liking the music on commercial radio now. Especially the 'oldies' station. And when I say old, I'm talking few songs before 1978 - the year I started high school. One of my regular <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">commenters</span> - <a href="http://theunbearablebanishment.blogspot.com/"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">UB</span></a> - mentioned that the music you grew up with is the music that stays with you. And he's completely correct. But I also replied that, the music I grew up with is kind of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">embarrassing</span>. Which is also correct. So, come with me now as we explore "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">tennysoneehemingway's</span> guide to what he listened to while he was growing up." Bit long for a book title I suppose but, whatever. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">For the most part of my formative years, I grew up on talk radio, jazz and classical music. My father was a musician in the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">RAAF</span> for over twenty years so, the first music I can ever recall hearing was something they played. It might have been a march, it might have been a swing arrangement, it may even have been something classical. I can't remember that much but it would have been something from the archives of the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">RAAF</span> band. Other than that, my dad listened to heaps of jazz so I was exposed to Benny Goodman, Buddy Rich, The Modern Jazz Quartet, Oscar Petersen, Lionel Hampton, Ted Heath and Duke Ellington. Not a bad education I suppose but not really something you want to hear when you're twelve. I wanted rock and roll man!! ROCK AND ROLL!!!!!!! Which I got from the only rock station in Victoria - 3<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">XY</span>. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">There will be very, very few of my readers out there who know what it was like to only have AM radio. Certainly not my American readers, who've had FM for far longer than I even knew it existed. We, in Australia, didn't get FM radio until 1980. Yeah, that's right, 1980. So the only 'alternative' radio we had, was 3<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">XY</span>. And they did a pretty good job too. First place I heard AC/DC. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">But this is getting off track. Talk radio, jazz and classical - my bread and butter. It wasn't until I hit high school that I even knew guitars existed. Or that, if you wanted, they could be loud. But even then, I didn't embrace that for a long, long time. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I've always had an inherent distrust of anyone who can instantly tell me their favourite five <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">whatevers</span>. Be they bands, records, films, books, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">TV</span> shows, food; to me, it smacks of giving up. 'I like other things but THESE are my absolute favourite.' I always struggle when people ask me that. I can't instantly name five favourite anythings because I'm always on the look out for something new. Or different. I don't even have a favourite musical genre. I like a lot of different things, depending on my mood. I hardly even go back to things that were favourites. Having five favourite <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">whatevers</span> sets you in a time a place forever. To me, at least. I used to listen, almost exclusively, to U2. All their albums up to Joshua Tree would get constant rotation on my stereo. I still like all that old stuff but I haven't listened to it for years. Once upon a time though, they would have been in my top 5 'favourites.' There is something for holding onto the classics though. But keeping them as your favourites? I just don't know. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">However I do break my own law when it comes to one. I have several favourite 'ones.' For example, my absolute favourite - always has and always will be - song is Dancing Queen by ABBA. Loved it when I first heard it and never lost that love. So what's the difference? Well, I think having a favourite one gives you more room to move. You're not locking yourself into only. You're not a punk, or an intellectual, or a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">dilettante</span>, or a water colorist, or any of a hundred different tropes. My love for Dancing Queen doesn't preclude my love for The Menstruation Sisters, or Andy Warhol, or even Two and a half Men. Besides, Dancing Queen was one of those songs I grew up with. One of the less <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">embarrassing</span> ones. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I suppose that defining what you grew up with, also means defining the time that is 'growing up.' For me, I think that's high school 12-18 (depending of course, where your birthday falls). For me, high school was 12 (going on 13) to 16. 1978-1982. Not exactly Golden Years for music. Unless, of course, you followed the massive outbreak of classic Punk from that period. I did not. I look back now and think, 'I was the perfect age for Punk to really affect me; what happened?' and the only conclusion I can come to is that I was born in Australia. No, that's probably not very fair. For all intents and purposes, The Saints released the first punk single in 1976 - the brilliant I'm Stranded. There will be many schools of thought to this so, let's just say this is my opinion. But it still came out fully two years before Never Mind the Bollocks - still considered the standard Punk release. But I was living in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">Geelong</span> and listening to...well, not really very much. I honestly don't remember much about music from when I was in high school. I certainly don't remember anything like punk. I remember there being punks at my school but it never connected with me. I guess I liked pop music. But even then I might be <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">mis</span>-remembering. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">So what did I grow up on? Talk radio, classical and jazz. But even then I was a devotee of Countdown, the only music show on TV. Kind of Australia's precursor to MTV. Except not. More like Top of the Pops. And I, like most people around, worshipped pretty much whoever was in the Top Ten. That <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">could've</span> been ABBA, or the Little River Band or Air Supply, or 10CC or <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fleetwood</span> Mac. If they were in the Top Ten, then I liked them. For no other reason than they were in the Top Ten. I wasn't discerning enough to hate anything back then. Except 'Fernando.' Man that song was No.1 for so long, I REALLY hated that after a while. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Look at those names; I grew up on some of the lamest, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">whimpiest</span>, soul-sucking, GREATEST pops groups of all time. Some of these bands released their greatest works at the time I was listening to them. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fleetwood</span> Mac - Rumours; ABBA - Arrival; 10CC - I'm not in love; Air Supply - All out of love; Little River Band - Reminiscing; the list goes on. And this was only the stuff that filtered through to Australia. No <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Internet</span> back then. No MTV. No FM Radio. Just whatever got on AM, that's what I had. I'll bet if you Googled 1978 now, you'd come up with piles of great stuff that was released. I mean, I still remember going to the drive in to see Star Wars - and that was 1977. What was I saying about Golden Years again? </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">The point is, I grew up on some truly shitty music, if you consider some of the gold that my parents grew up on. But then I think of the Generation that came after me - which includes a fair whack of my readers - and they're referencing things I grew up on as 'classics.' </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Maybe beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder. </span>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-75943251092044191552011-11-07T15:38:00.003+11:002011-11-07T15:56:55.732+11:00OAP<span style="font-family:courier new;">It's already November, which means it's nearly Summer. It also means it's nearly Christmas. Gone are the days when Christmas - even as close as Dec 21 - just seemed <em>so far away. </em>It just isn't fair; why isn't Christmas tomorrow? School's out and the prospect of six weeks holiday just wasn't enough. It had to be Christmas NOW, dammit! Four days just wouldn't do.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">There are fewer things that tell you you're getting old than the dread that Christmas is just around the corner. I've never been <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">humbuggy</span> about Christmas until the last few years. And no, it's not just because I'm getting older; it's the fact that the damn stores already have their decorations up. They put them up in October for <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">fuck's</span> sake! Yes, I know it's the same all over the Western world but it just kills me. I understand it - one must spend after all. But October? Does anyone really buy anything for Christmas before December? Well, I have bought Lady Hem's Christmas presents already but that's a first for me. I'm usually a December 24<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span> kind of guy. Of course, I haven't bought anything for anyone else yet.....<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">But surely October can be sacrificed? By the time December comes around, most of us have had it to the back teeth with Christmas. It's finally here and I'm burnt out already. Fuck you advertising man. Go to the Bahamas and leave me the fuck alone. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Other tips that tell you you're getting older? Mentioning whenever possible about how fast the years are going; not understanding why young people just have to drive so damn fast; using the word 'damn' instead of 'fuck' and, finally; realising that the commercial station you're forced to listen to at work isn't all that bad, then realising that the music they're playing you actually grew up with and you're finally in that old person demographic you've been bagging for the past twenty years. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Happy pension day, son. </span>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-48093264037529361432011-10-17T13:16:00.001+11:002011-10-17T15:18:58.461+11:00Future proof your future<span style="font-family:courier new;">Ever since Syd was born, I've begun wondering about what she'll be like when she's older. She's already growing up too fast for my liking but, as I was driving to work this morning, listening to the new <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Dirtbombs</span> CD, I began to wonder about the music that she'd be listening to once she hits high school, and older. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Sure, it's a bit too early to be thinking about this I suppose but I'm trying to think back to my youth. The stuff I was listening to and the stuff my dad was listening to. The Generation Gap is never quite so wide as when you try to maintain youthful affiliations. The one thing I don't think I could ever be accused of doing. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I want Syd to think of me as out of touch. I want to be rocking out to the Pixies, or Future of the Left, or even the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Lucksmiths</span> one day in the back room and I want her to come out and say, 'are you still listening to that old people's music, Dad? Get with the times!!' As she rocks out to whatever is going to be popular when she's a teenager. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">And, as much as I'll play the Pixies etc, while she's young, I don't want her to get too attached to that stuff. It'd be great if she could appreciate it the same way I do, but I don't expect it. And really, I'd rather she didn't. Because I want her to have her own life. Her own music. I want her to be thinking, 'man, music sucked so much in the past. Imagine having to grow up listening to Joy Division, or the Cure or (insert name of band that you loved growing up who still mean something to you now.) I'm so glad I'm living NOW, when music is so vibrant.' </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Because we all think that. It takes a while to appreciate history. I know I didn't appreciate someone like Robert Johnson until I was 26-27. Yet my dad listened to him heaps. But, to me, it was 'old people's music.' I was rocking out to Asia. Now THERE was a band. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">So I wonder, what will she be rocking out to in the far-off future? I don't know. But one thing I'm sure of, I'm not going to be a big fan. Music today SUCKS man. And get the fuck off my lawn. </span>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-54381317056364916372011-10-13T12:26:00.002+11:002011-10-13T12:38:50.491+11:00The right thing to do<span style="font-family:courier new;">I don't know why, but I thought of this story at 1am, while I was changing Syd's nappy. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">In primary school, there were these two sisters - the Carroll sisters. We used to have an extremely popular TV show called, Hey Hey it's Saturday. Naturally enough, it used to be on Saturday mornings, before moving to night time many years later. One of the characters on the show was an Ostrich, called Ozzie and he was voiced by one Ernie Carroll - the sister's uncle. Which they mentioned at every opportunity. One of them was in my brother's class, so we sort of knew them, but not so much. I remember them treating most of us like shit, which is pretty much a primary school thing anyway. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Well, the story goes that, one afternoon while, for reasons that escape me, the rest of the school was on one side, I wondered around to the other. I don't really know why, apart from the fact that I've always been a loner and like being by myself. Besides, while all the kids were screaming their heads off on one side of the school, I could be in some peace and quiet on the other side. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">So I'm walking past the shelter sheds - we had one for the boys and one for the girls - and I go past the girls shelter shed when who do I spy, but the Carroll sisters. They're in the girls shelter shed and, for another reason that escapes me, the shelter shed is locked. But they can peek out through the gap between the doors and they see me. They're crying hysterically and begging for me to let them out. They see me and I see them. What do I do? </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I walk on. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">No words, no acknowledgement. I walk on. They got let out a few minutes later but I didn't care. I distinctly remember being happy that they were so distressed. I thought, 'it serves you fucking right.' Except I didn't know the word 'fuck' yet, so probably not. But I thought this morning that, what an arsehole I was. No matter that they treated everyone like shit, they were terrified and didn't deserve someone - especially me - leaving them there to, ostensibly, rot. But, I wasn't yet ten so, maybe my moral compass wasn't completely set. Nowadays? Nowadays I would've helped. At least got a teacher. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">But back then..........back then I was a kid. </span>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-84653090812452929232011-10-10T11:23:00.004+11:002011-10-10T12:22:11.433+11:00Handy is as handy does, sir<span style="font-family:courier new;">I'm not a handy man. Or should that be, handyman? Either/or, I'm not one of them. Though I do agree that that might just be your definition of what, and how handy, a handyman should be. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I can do a few things. I can change a tap. I can change a tap washer. I can hang a door. I can change a flat tyre. I even once, with the help of a friend, stripped out the motor of my Toyota to change the head gasket. But I'm not, and never will be, what you'd call handy.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">For all the stuff I've done, and can do, I've had help. I've watched someone, read about it, or been told how to do it. It's a bit like my cooking; I can do it from the recipe but I'm fairly <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">hopeless</span> just being given ingredients and told to make something. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I know people who can though. A friend of ours built their house. From the ground up. The only thing he didn't do was pour the concrete slab, initially. He did everything else though. From the framework, to the bricks, to putting in the windows and most of the plumbing/electricity. You still have to get these signed off by registered tradesmen but he still did 99% of the work. Just because he knew how. He read a little bit, was told a little bit but mostly, he knew what to do. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">This, in my opinion, is the essence of the true handyman. The just knowing. Lady Hem wishes I was a handyman. She always wants to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">DIY</span>. She's forever saying, "why don't we just knock out both walls and have a passageway through to the back? We can do it." And I look at her like she's just said let's perform open heart surgery on each other. What harm could it do? Naturally enough, I always say no. Because I'm NOT handy. Never will be. Something small, yes. But why, when there are perfectly good tradesmen around, should I be doing something that's going to cost three times as much if I haphazardly go at it? Especially when she thinks that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">DIY</span> saves a fortune. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I'm not handy. And what's more, I really don't want to be. If you are, that's great. Maybe you could come and install some bi-fold windows for us? </span>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-22471318083802143312011-09-29T10:52:00.002+10:002011-09-29T10:59:37.929+10:00Andrew's horse has Bolted<span style="font-family:courier new;">Yesterday, our number one shock jock columnist, Andrew Bolt, lost a Supreme Court decision concerning a couple of his columns from early in the year. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">He basically went to attack a few 'white Aboriginals' for getting grants and awards, over 'black Aboriginals.' What he didn't realise, because he didn't bother interviewing anyone or doing any proper research, was that the 'white Aboriginals' in question - while being pale skinned - had always identified as Aboriginal, had at least on black Aboriginal parent and did not declare themselves Aboriginal just to win an award. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Predictably, Andrew has come out saying, 'it's a terrible day for Free Speech in this country.' As I've mentioned in my Twitter feed, however, is that there is no such thing as Free Speech in Australia. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Nothing in the Constitution protects freedom of speech. Freedom of Speech, as well as Freedom of the Press, is implied, rather than protected. We have no Bill of Rights to enshrine such a thing. Indeed, a Bill of Rights is something that Andrew Bolt is very much against. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">But now, here he is, blathering on about Freedom of Speech. How it's being attacked by the left-wing establishment and the courts. Unfortunately Andrew, you can't attack something that doesn't exist. Freedom of Speech may be one of the cornerstones of democracy but, thanks to right-wingers like you, we don't have any laws to actually protect it. You're part of the problem that you're so against Andrew. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Might as well go attack yourself. </span>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-12165584589596113622011-09-28T16:11:00.002+10:002011-09-28T16:31:01.639+10:00The dog's hind leg<span style="font-family:courier new;">It surprises me still, that the notion of 'honesty is the best policy,' holds such traction. Because, as any fool knows, it absolutely isn't true. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">We all lie. It doesn't matter who, it doesn't matter our age, it doesn't matter our social standing, it doesn't matter our occupation, it doesn't matter our ethnic origin or our religion. Whether we have one or not. We all lie. Lies are a matter of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">necessity</span>. Without lying, we'd never be able to get through the day. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I'm not saying that being honest is a redundant option. Honesty is still a valuable commodity. If more people were more honest, the world would be in a better state. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Which comes down to our definition of honesty and the definition of the above epigram. WHEN is honesty the best policy? With only the big things or with small things as well? And who and how are these 'things' defined? </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I'm thinking of the Ricky <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gervais</span> vehicle of last year; the movie where everyone was supposedly 'honest' and he invented lying. But, if truth be told (see what I did there?) the movie was less about people being honest, than it was about some strange sort of ADD crossed with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Tourette's</span>. People would just blurt out whatever came into their heads. Which is less honesty than mental problems. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">For example, when he rang Jennifer Garner's doorbell, she answers it with, 'I was just upstairs masturbating.' Which may have been true but, as he didn't ask what she'd been doing, why did she feel compelled to mention it? Honesty? No, that's more of an obsessive/compulsive problem. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">However, compare with the real world now. If, in our recent past, banks had have told people in the Sub Prime mortgage collapse that they really shouldn't be borrowing ANY money, let alone enough to buy a house, perhaps more people, and our own economy, would be better off. And, further to that, if government, the private sector and general common sense were involved and being honest, maybe this whole mess wouldn't have even started. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">But still, there's no great answer to 'does my bum look big in this?' unless, of course, you lie. </span>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-53277455748197821512011-09-26T14:01:00.002+10:002011-09-26T14:11:43.578+10:00Go<span style="font-family:courier new;">There's a new <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">sheriff</span> in town and his name is: Apathy. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">This Friday, people in Victoria are going to be on the receiving end of some very good news; traffic infringements will be suspended as the Police Union tries to get the State Govt to come to the table finally and negotiate better wages. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Now, despite most people not liking police very much - especially those in the traffic area - they do a good job. Mostly. It's a hard job, with long hours, not much respect and a pretty big chance of getting killed. Bigger than most of us face day to day. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">But the State Government has been dragging it's heels for the past twelve months in negotiating with the Union over pay increases. So much so, that it hasn't even had a proper meeting. So the police are being forced to do the only thing they can; freeze Government income. All traffic fines go to Government coffers, so no fines means no money. And if there's anything that will get a Government moving, it's the thought of losing money. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Naturally enough, the Government will not be happy with this. And it hasn't happened yet but I already know how they'll spin it; anyone who gets killed on Friday, the blame will be put squarely on the cops. Never mind that, on any given Friday, someone will be killed in a traffic accident through speed, alcohol or plain stupidity. But the Govt will make sure that they blame the police union for not issuing on the spot fines for traffic offences, rather than the public for the more than general speeding that may occur on Friday. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Personally, I don't think this will encourage people to speed more. It might actually encourage them to park in no standing zones, rather than drive flat out. It's certainly what I'd do. But I can bet, I can just bet, that the Govt will still not come to the table, when they can just spin another lie to a surprisingly gullible public. </span>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-87774333338265252032011-09-23T09:36:00.003+10:002011-09-23T09:43:38.182+10:00I don't know what to title this - fear and loathing, perhaps?<span style="font-family:courier new;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ok</span>, now I know I'm missing something. It must be the Yahoo site. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Remember on the tenth anniversary of 9/11 I wrote about people making jokes about it on the Yahoo Australia website? Well, it seems to have gotten worse. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ahmadinejad</span> made a speech in the UN, predictably <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">anti</span>-Semitic and anti-West - especially anti-American. In the comments section after the story - 74 comments and counting - he's being PRAISED for being brave and speaking out against injustice. And this isn't from Iranians living in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Aus</span>, these are people like me; Bruce, Kevin, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Macca</span>. Supposedly ordinary Australians, praising one of the most hateful men of this particular generation. And the people who are calling him out and accusing him of human rights atrocities are having their comments BLOCKED DUE TO LOW APPROVAL RATINGS. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">What the fuck is going on? I feel like I've gone to sleep, woken up and the crazies really <em>have </em>taken over the asylum. I'm actually not a little scared at the moment. </span>tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507071480240083934.post-23508004834497701762011-09-16T12:22:00.002+10:002011-09-16T12:29:08.269+10:00Get the boot in<span style="font-family:courier new;">As it's Friday, this will only be a short post. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Now that Hollywood has done <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">plummed</span> the depths of the eighties and is working it's way through the nineties (re: the Point Break remake), why not stop all this nonsense and go back in time; back to when things REALLY mattered. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">What we need right now, more than ever, is a gritty remake of <em>Leave it to Beaver. </em></span><br /><em><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></em><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I mean, from the title alone the movie writes itself. </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">What did Wally and The <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Beav</span> <em>really</em> get up to after dark? </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">June and Ward - secret vampires?</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">And as for that Eddie Haskell - a real life Jeffrey <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Dahmer</span> in the making? </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">The possibilities are endless. Get on it Hollywood; I need something for Christmas</span>.tennysoneehemingwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999047427848122510noreply@blogger.com3