It's Topical: As A Sidebar, Congratulations to Ms. Wong and Ms. Allouache On Your Wonderful News.

http://www.heraldsun.com.au/news/breaking-news/wong-baby-not-right-reverend-fred-nile/story-e6frf7jx-1226111678394

In response to the views reported above, this is an open communique to Fred Nile MP from the President-Apparent of Australia.

FROM THE DESK OF THE IVORY TOWER

Dear Fred,
How are you? Are you keeping well? Last time I'd heard anything about you was on a D-Generation Breakfast Show CD... I honestly thought you'd given the hatespeak a rest! Ah, how we laugh. Anyway. To business.

I can't help but notice you've spoken out against the joyous news that Ms. Wong and Ms. Allouache are expecting.
Repeat: You have issue with two women of sound mind and body excited that they will be having a baby together.
Repeat: You have an issue with a Good Thing.
What in your mate God's name is your problem, cobber?

I was made particularly craw-stuck when you said (no apparent awareness of stupidity mind you) that "[the fact they announced their pregnancy] just promotes their lesbian lifestyle". You have a big thing about the Gay community 'promoting' their lyfestyle. You also misunderstand and confuse the word 'promote' with the phrase 'just living'. But, you clearly want something to upset you, so here's what I propose:

1) The Gay community will START promoting their lifestyle.
2) On billboards and banners and bus stop ads and ads on the side of buses and live demonstrations and parties.
3) But only around your house.

This plan is partly because (I won't lie) your reaction will be priceless. But it is also because if you are FORCED to interact with gay people you will realise possibly the biggest flaw in the arguments against gay people you and yours seem doctrined to:You Are Being Mean To People. People. With Lives. And Hopes.

There is a lot of wrong and hypocrisy the Christian Right have been part of of late. But it is almost as if you are going OUT OF YOUR WAY to hurt, harm, upset or just humiliate the gay community. I wish to quote something I heard one day:

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love."

And where was that written?
1 John 4:18
Your own fucking book of worship. Said by the man you have chosen as your crusade's figurehead.

And THIS is why the majority of Australia hates you.
Nile, believe it or not, I am your President. I hold the thoughts and feelings of this great nation deeply and my people know a coward when they see one. I don't know how you got to a position such as the one you hold now, but I can assure you it it was chance.

You have no interest in Christ's message of love, peace and understanding.
You are not interested in democratic rights.
You have cowered yourself behind religion, politics and the media and can comfortably say such poisonous and hurtful things. You are a coward and a hatemonger, fearful of the world and of anyone/thing different and frankly this will not stand. You didn't even tell Ms. Wong of your issue. Which says even you understand ultimately it's none of your GODDAMNED BUSINESS.

I am in ascendant, Nile. This is your warning. Get Off The Gay Agenda and START ACTING LIKE CHRIST.

Yours sincerely,
sp Cantwell
Pres. Appt. Of The Glorious Republic of Australia

It's Infuriating: Young kids today...

So it's been almost a year. Hey. Surprise.

In the interim, I've accumulated vast wealth and spent it all on other people and myself. That's how I roll, we all know this. I've also moved to the big smoke have become and Angry Young Man, started standup and founded The Heidelberg Antisocial Club and the Gentleman's Collar comedy group.

I've also been tweeting on and off. Today Andrew Breitbart supporters lashed out at me for asking him if it hurts to be a liar, and on the local front, I got the wrath of a grown up.

For those with lives, Angry Anderson fFormerly King Herod of JCS and the lead singer of Aussie institution Rose Tattoo) joined a no Carbon Tax rally today, allying himself with Australia's champion climate change deniers, along with intellectual luminaries Pauline Hanson and Tony Abbot.

I tweeted about this. I said the following:
"Angry Anderson: Turns out he's just as big a sell-out as the rest of his generation. #nosurprisethere"

Two hours later, a Grown Up responded.

From @ucantsathat:
"Whats your generation done for anyone."

Now, I'm pretty sure that this gent is using a social networking tool that our generation developed. WINNING! (Thank you, Charlie)

I'm sure this man is lovely. I'm absolutely certain of it. However. I assume he is in the age bracket of Mr. Anderson. And as such would be at the very least a tail end baby boomer. There is a lot of speculation going on here.

So let's play my favourite song. It's a little number called "How Fucking Dare You".

To this man I say the following, as I did when I replied to that tweet:

Oh, what have WE done? You mean apart from join up to the Army only to be shipped off to two illegal wars, invent social networking, become the main target of the consumer market, slave away so we can live in houses we rent because we'll never own one, cop profiling at events, write the best in tv, working in the charities that do the work for others that you can't comprehend, embrace the ideals that died with your souls and generally try and undo the damage your lot did forty or so years ago? Oh shit, not much then. AREN'T WE JUST THE WORST?

So let's see what YOU did.

- Did all the drugs, then did your very best to criminalize them all

- Sped up the decay of the planet's natural resources

- Continually vote people into power who had no interest in helping the country as a whole

- Cause three economic recessions since 1981

- Blurred the very important line between Church and State

- Protest every single positive change in the last twenty years

- Use, use, use & use every natural resource with no heed to the irreparable damage you could be causing

- Stifle artistic expression, yet give Gene Simmons a platform to make millions

- And bred a level of self-interest and small -mindedness so insidious in our culture that we're all guilty of.

And also, don't pull the "you're ungrateful" bullshit with me. We're all grateful on some level. We're just not going to waste it on people who ruined our history and still sing along to The Who with that knowledge. Happiness comes to me only with knowing that someday we'll be in the positions of power. Here's hoping we do a better job.

Fuck you.

On The Issue of Twitter and Taste

For those of you who missed these… whatever they are, I am pleased to say I have not forgotten you. A month on the tomato harvest gave me ample time to think. A fair portion is completely unsavoury, most of it was about a Wii and Boston Legal box set and a fair portion of it was bizarre dreams. But an hour a day I sat in quiet solitude and devoted my attention to keeping myself sane enough to come back and hoist myself back onto my soapbox, and I promise you, the view up here is brilliant.

My return to the Kingdom of Rust was marred somewhat by the spectre of an event that yearly makes me feel dead inside for a good twelve hours: the Logies. I’m glad I missed them. All the self importance of the Oscars with none of the credibility AND Richard Wilkins, who offends me. Next year, though, I may pay attention via Twitter, seeing as how most comedians and commentators were offering thoughts in real time. Genius! Unless you’re one of this country’s most popular comics, or a now former columnist for a major newspaper.

For those of who are blissfully unaware, I am talking about Wil Anderson and Catherine Deveny, both of whom were harshly criticised for their tweets. Deveny was made example of and lost her job. I won’t say what they were, suffice to say, Anderson did not comment, whereas Deveny made the unfortunate mistake of trying to defend herself.

Now:

I do not mind a bit of crass humour. I like it when the ire of society is raised. I defended the Chaser wholesale, and I have never demanded a person be sacked or resign over remarks made. The f-bomb and c-tilery are standard punctuation in my brother’s and my vocabulary. I like shock and I think it necessary. But shock is a very volatile substance, and if you use it wrong, you will be burned.

It is to Catherine I direct my attention in this piece. I can’t blast her too hard without feeling bad. She is a hard-working comedian and is quite an insightful columnist. But when you have to go on ABC Radio National and explain you are a comedian, you’re not doing it right. I suppose I was a bit taken aback when she said with seriousness I cannot deny that her tweets were “taken out of context” and that to understand them one must “understand social networking”. I don’t agree. I may be taking her comments out of context in this very paragraph, but this is Twitter we’re talking about.

Twitter is seen as a sort of ego trip usually but anyone who works with words for a living (I believe) should use it regularly. It’s a free and simple way of learning word economy, or to direct people who like your thoughts to other things you’ve written and are proud of. However, it is a totally blank canvas, and in 140 characters you must give your thoughts context and substance otherwise it is lost in the ether. The ‘hash tag’ is a brilliant way to do this. And by adding the hash tag “#logies” after her thoughts Deveny automatically gave them context. The nuances of social networking don’t enter into it at all. Anderson was catty, but funny. Deveny was just mean.

Part of it may have to do with the stance the two took. American journalist, activist and all-round arse kicker Allison Kilkenny has made the point that comedians from left wing political backgrounds will mostly be quite different to their conservative contemporaries. Anderson is undoubtedly from a liberal background, and his humour is very easily interpreted as such. Even when acidic, he’s still quite impish about it. Deveny’s background of writing for one of this country’s most conservative broadsheets is quite evident in what she writes, and when she is vicious, it is really quite cruel. Again, this is just me.

The reality is I think this whole incident has been blown out of proportion. There are hundreds of opinions about the Logies, each more offensive than the last. It’s a glitzy popularity contest at heart and if we’re going to be subjected to it, may as well have people make it interesting. And why would you fire anyone over their tweets? It’s fucking TWITTER. Had they been politicians tweeting through Parliament when they should be working, fair do’s, give them a talking to. But journalists and media types doing it at a very overrated event is nothing to bat an eyelid over.

Well that’s it. I’m back. I’m rusty I’ll admit but it’s good to be writing again. I thank Allison for letting me source her. www.allisonkilkenny.com is her brilliant blog and www.wearecitizenradio.com is the radio show she and comic Jamie Kilstein make three times weekly. Podcast it through iTunes. It’s awesome. (I hope I’ve repaired the damage of butchering a fine quote) Thank you for reading, and thank you for your comments in advance. Til next time.

Top Albums: 2010 Pt. 1

So let's assume I love music, and talking about music. Then let's assume I want to keep tabs on my fave albums this year. So the first three months down, here is the short list thus far:

Plastic Beach - Gorillaz
I know I panned it to start off with, but it's a slow burner and a work of genius.

One Life Stand - Hot Chip
Such a tender album... Yet you can dance to it, there's something genius at work here.

The Family Jewels - Marina and the Diamonds
The newest addition to the quirky songwriter's winning circle proves she has the chops.

The Trials of Others - Midlake
A beautiful record and one to listen to at sunset...

Realism - The Magnetic Fields
Stephen Merrit proves his disdain of the mainstream by layering a beautiful pop record with every other instrument than synthesizers.

Transference - Spoon
So these guys have their formula so down pat that you cannot actually fault them.

Contra - Vampire Weekend
Surprisingly good second album from the whitest boys in America.

Odd Blood - Yeasayer
Odd by name and nature, but I get these guys easier than I get Animal Collective, think MGMT plagiarizing Tears for Fears...

Comments? Discussions? Fire away,

Time To Throw Some Stones...

What the hell is wrong with Australian television?

And no, I’m not talking about the way the programmers treat us like idiots, hiding the good stuff way past our bed time. Or putting off shows until the DVD has been released, both crimes they should pay dearly for. I’m talking about our local content. Crime drama, lifestyle or non-crime drama seem to be the only things we make of note. But only our comedies are for a large part quite brilliant, yet hounded by cretins telling us what comedy is “supposed” to be.

Imagine then my surprise that the killjoys who out and out crucified the Chaser and broke the Glasshouse sitting on their hands for Good News Week on Channel Ten because Ricki-Lee sings ‘Call Me’ or something similar to offset Mikey Robbins and the eternal filth imp Paul McDermott. See the bile rise in my throat when the same network invite Andrew Bolt on to The 7PM Project to present an ‘informed view’, when in fact he is part of what Hunter S. Thompson describes as the Fourth Reich. Can you dig this? I can’t.

I was ten when topical comedy set me aflame. Back in the day, I would watch Good News Week on a Friday night, and spend the next week guessing what stories they’d talk about on the next show (weird yes, but catnip to me). Mind you, 1998 it was revelation time for me. The Simpsons were at their legendary creative peak, The Micallef Program was starting out, and not long from then we discovered South Park and the world became a better place. But topical comedy, not quite satire, was –and still is- my ‘thing’. It was my dream to panel on Good News Week. Be good enough to write jokes for them. I breathed that stuff.

So imagine the heartbreak caused in 2000 when Ten not only axed the show after buying it away from the ABC, but doing so to dwindling numbers. I taped the final show then proceeded to wear the tape thin. It was a troubling time for me, as adolescence was a year away, and I still had nothing to fill that void. Comedy, you see, has been my way of compensating for being uninteresting and so beautiful that people assume I’ll never speak to them (I believe).

For this reason, I love the Glasshouse. It was the perfect continuation of the sort of humour that I found so exhilarating. The three main hosts were (at the time) three of the best up and coming comics in our country with a crack team of writers behind them and a ratio of knowledgeable types to funny types that the 7PM Project owes them for. It was childish at times. It was silly. It was nothing more than five people talking for a half an hour, usually making jokes about the government of the day, which became its undoing. But ultimately, our culture needed it.

Humour is the great leveller. It can transform a monster into a joke, and a joke into a unifying belief. History will speak of the leaders we have had in their factual connotations, but people will listen to the jokes about them before taking any facts into account. And when you laugh at the monsters they become less scary. And heaven only knows we have monsters.

So imagine the heartbreak caused in 2006 when the Howard Government broke it. Complaints to the effect that the show “lacked bipartisanship” in making many jokes about the government of the day rather than focus on the opposition. This leads me to two conclusions about the people who did this with the clarity of hindsight that the same people complained about the Chaser: 1) They were plants for a scared and upset government or 2) These individuals are constantly upset and will in fact die miserable.
That final show proved the pure potential this show had, with Kochie coming out with RELEVANT and INTERESTING discussion as a rare highlight of his career. The subsequent DVD is one I will watch every so often to reminding myself of the good times, but my heart yearns for a resolution…

I say it often. Loudly when I do, and without a trace of guilt or shame: “Dear Auntie, Bring Back The Glasshouse. And Bring It Back RIGHT NOW.” I’m an adult now, and Good News Week, my childhood benchmark of Australia’s premiere topical humour now answers to advertisers. It now plugs things openly on a commercial network so of course there are things it cannot say. It’s still good, don’t get me wrong.

But I came of age with the Glasshouse giving me a platform to care about the world and when it swerved from humour to serious issues, it did so with a humility and compassion you could not put in GNW for the simple fact that it’s divides the conservative thinker against the people who are right.

Now is a great time to bring it back, now is always the best time to bring it back. Maybe not with the same people. But get new folks in. Easy fixed.

And for those of you who say “Well why don’t you go and do it? You love it so much, why not try it yourself?” Okay. I’ll just need about eight staff writers, 2-4 more hosts, some learned guests and the rights to the Mock the Week format over in Britain. Oh and a camera or three and editing equipment. And if the ABC don’t like it, YOUTUBE BABY. See, that’s the thing about loving something so dearly, you’ll want to take it somewhere else. But where I take it may not be the best place.

So to all you news freaks and comedy nerds who loved this show as much as I did, I say: We’re never alone. We’ll always have that fire burning. And to the ABC: DO SOMETHING RIGHT FOR ONCE.

Gregory Big: A History

A few years back I started writing about a certain remarkably unremarkable man. As I have been inundated with people begging me to bring him back, I thought I would write this biography as dictated by the man himself. After a 5-year hiatus, folks, I’m bringing back the big. Enjoy.

Gregory Big: A Biography


I was born in a year when mittens were the fashion item of the spring to Jimothy and Ezzzz Big. After doctors asserted I was indeed a boy (plus the three week waiting period) I was named Gregory Arbuthnot Big after Earnst GregoryMcTeal, a man whom my mother once saw in a newspaper shouting at a yam and Alexander Arbuthnot who invented boats.
I was the oldest of two, my younger brother was born two years after me and then a week after that and was named Fritzkreig “El Incubator” Hamish Big after the first few things my Grandmother once said in a fever dream.

My father was a freelance professor of Spoons & Associated Cutlery and my mother exposed magicians. We lived well in luxurious 4 bedroom-3 bathroom hovel in a shanty town situated in a sewer, until the sanitation people moved us on. We lived in a lot of interesting places after that; a tree, a shed, a bunker, a u-boat, pages 45-168 of a first edition of ‘Dude, Where’s My Country’ By Michael Moore and in the basement of a fruit stall, which was the best place to raise a child until the owner wheeled it home for the night. Then it was the worst place to raise a child.

During my 8th year, my father became Walcott University’s resident Professor of Running up the Stairs Two at a Time, Flinging the Door Open & Shouting ‘Aha! Caught You, Mildred!’ which meant we could afford to settle into a quaint little house on Thrif St. However, it was not long after this that my mother contracted Spatchcock’s Disease.

Named after Dr. Glen Spatchcock, this terminal disease, (for those not doctors,) irreversibly damages a person’s stock portfolio by investing large chunks of money in various terrible ideas and leave the patient in the firm belief that they are a miniature Tibetan yak. Since I was eight, I saw this dreaded disease’s effect on my mother whilst laughing like a drain when she would ram people she did not know.

All went along quite uneventfully bar the odd adventure for a while, and then I met a young man who found my life quite eventful. So I recounted to him all my stories and he in turn sang Bjork songs at me. Which I believe was a very unfair deal considering he knew none and was just screeching at me…

So thank you for reading about my uninteresting life. Thank you young sir for chronicling it. And thank you for reading about my uninteresting life.


Gregory Big. New Adventures. Coming Soon in 2010.

Regarding Haiti: An Open Letter to You

Dear whosoever reads this,
It’s been one week now, and still there’s a growling in the dirt. A wailing in the air. We all know it.

Haiti is screaming. Her air is fetid with the stench of the dead. The news reports are all of how the Haitian people “live in insufficient housing,” which caused so much destruction. The scream we ignored is louder than ever now.

This mess is deplorable. But the West feels no guilt, only sympathy and pity.

Since it became it’s own country and rejecting French control, Haiti has been less than stable. It’s like this in parts all over the world. “There are three sides to every story: yours, mine and the truth” as the old adage goes. One side fight to maintain power, one side fights to be fed and the truth is nobody is sure what’s going to happen. THEN CAME THE WEST AGAIN. The International Bank gave the government a huge loan, and then bled the country dry. No remorse. Business is business.

In all fairness the media have reported so extensively on this, it’s hard for governments not to act. But aid is still at a trickle, so I wish to beg you follow me in this. Last Friday I put the whole mess out of the mind for the weekend. And on one level that’s reasonable, I had a trip to go on. But as soon as I got home I felt crippling guilt. The 200, 000 reported dead are being buried, one-and-a-half million are confirmed homeless, and yet more are trapped.

Donate what you can. Pray if you choose to. But for all that is sacred, do something. This is two-thousand-and-fucking-ten. The days of ignoring the countries that scream out for help (be honest, we do) are over. Time’s a-ticking and Earth will have to introduce itself to all other intelligent life. How well you think it will reflect if we leave our equals to die?

We aren’t to blame personally for this. But I’ll be damned if I allow this to be treated like a toddler who tripped and grazed their knee. In the Port-au-Prince General Hospital, the country’s largest by far, the bodies are stacked FOUR HIGH BY THE AUTOPSY DOOR. Find a charity. Just pick one. And throw a bit of money at them. If we start with this, we’ll be doing well, and the healing can begin.

Thnks,

Simon