Caring Less Part Two

Okay, obviously I care a little bit.

Tony Abbott won.  Congratulations Liberal Party, you did what no man has been able to achieve to date by literally fucking yourself.  Tony Abbott is a testicle.  Given that he’s now the leader of the Liberal Party, that makes it a ballbag.  It’s kind of ironic, I guess, given that it’s full of nutjobs.

I still hold a lingering allegiance to the Libs.  I’ve always leaned toward their way of thinking, but that was back when they still thought about things.  Now they just say the opposite of what the other guys say.  They actually spend most of their time in Opposition arguing against their own former policies, which Kevin Rudd’s Labor either stole or took great amounts of inspiration from.

Oasis recently split up, and Liam Gallagher has started a new band with everyone from it but for Noel.  Our debacle is kind of like if Noel came out and criticised the new band for being rude cunts and for ripping off The Beatles.

I no longer have any feelings for the Liberal Party.  I just can’t respect anybody who manages, by comparison, to make Kevin Rudd look appealing.

I Could Care Less, But Not By Much

Just a quick thought about the Liberal party leadership showdown today…does anyone give a shit?  At all?

Malcolm Turnbull or Joe Hockey – I’m pretty sure that whoever wins will still be the one that nobody votes for in the next election.  The guy who loses gets relegated to the shadow back bench.  The guy who wins takes charge of the 2009 Liberal party.  They’re both fucked.

Apparently Tony Abbot’s having a go as well, but he’s an antiquated religious nut who’s running so his party will vote against the environment.  He’s a punchline.

I was less bored by the fight over who gets to captain the Black Pearl in the 3rd Pirates of the Carribean movie.  Sure, the first few fights that Jack Sparrow was involved in were entertaining, but after a while you just want to get the fuck out of the cinema.  My legs were sore and as it kept going on and on I just got pissed off.

I saw two birds fighting over a chip the other day.  That was pretty cool.  We should film that and put it on the news.

Whatever happened to Prison Break?  That show was awesome.

What’s The Deal, Police Union?

Why do you hate fun? Really, why? First, you saw the Valley in Brisbane and decided to speak up and encourage the government to shut it the fuck down, now you want to stamp all over Schoolies? People are having fun and the police are having to do their job so it’s suddenly a problem?

Well, Police Union, I say fuck you.

Ian Leavers, the head of the union, keeps trying to dodge out on work by releasing his opinions and feelings to the press.  My favourite quote from shit he says is this one about Schoolies: “I think they need to dis-encourage people from attending.”  What’s that Leavers?  Dis-encourage?  Did you in fact graduate school?  Did you fail your subjects and not actually get to have a Schoolies experience?  Are you the sad kid on the sidelines who is having a cry because he wasn’t allowed to join in the fun?  I think someone should dis-encourage Ian Leavers from saying stuff.

Let the kids have fun.  There were how many thousand of the little fuckers there, and only a few hundred arrests?  I wish we could import those statistics into the Valley on a weekend.  Maybe then the Police Union would get off our back.

Really, Schoolies isn’t even that dodgy.  At the time, everyone thinks they’re as badass as John Travolta in Swordfish, but looking back, we were just kids who drank a bit and yelled a lot.  I think someone in my room might have even spilled a tomato sauce bottle.  It’s just that it’s concentrated.  If you want to scare the parents and Police Union, take them to a college function.  Those sons of bitches leave their humanity at the door and try to drink or fuck their way to oblivion.

In the end, if wankers want to write themselves off, let them.  If they die, it’s one less engineering student in the world, and is that such a bad thing?

Spoiler Alert?

Twilight.  New Moon.  Wow.  Stephanie Meyer, why do you hate so many things?

You hate women.  You lure and trick them and make them look like fools when in large numbers, in public cinemas, they squeal and swoon over a child with his shirt off.  You hate men.  You make us come along and watch as the creatures we worship are so reduced.

You hate the myths and tales which you shamelessly exploit.  Vampires that walk in the day?  THAT’S NOT TRUE.  Real vampires don’t sparkle like a teenage girl’s face at a St Aidan’s dance, they motherfucking burn like the morning after an unclean woman.  Vampires, according to the legend written hundreds of years ago, are like cooler gingers.  Ever seen a redhead at the beach?  Do they sparkle?  No!  They sizzle and wither and die!

And what about that bullshit you wrote in about werewolves, who don’t seem to be at all werewolves but rather some crazy breed of man-wolf able to transform at will and bound by a code stronger than Jacob’s left arm?  They switch over when they feel like it?  They have a fucking GENE that tells them when a vampire’s about?  They suddenly get their dog on when they get angry?  That’s not a werewolf, that’s The Hulk.  Wrong again Meyer.

So we’ve got the unfairly omnipotent vampires and the suddenly intelligent and honourable werewolves, so that brings us to the dipshit with her name at the top of the bill, Bella.  This girl is so confounding I don’t even know where to start.  Hey, vampires, wanna know why you can’t read her thoughts?  It’s because she’s vapid!  Empty!  No thoughts!

The worst part of Bella is that she is so torn between the two guys.  Oh no, who do I pick?  Edward, the weirdo obsessive old guy going through my room and telling me I can’t have what I keep telling him I want?  The one who disappeared right when we finally got to be together?  Or should I jump in with Jacob, the whiny twelve-year-old who can’t seem to ever find a shirt and who gave me a dreamcatcher for a present?  Seriously, he gave me a dream catcher?  Who is this guy, a middle class white dude from Ballina?  What’s next, a crystal and a deck of tarot cards?

I have the answer for you Bella: CHOOSE NEITHER OF THEM.  They’re both fuckheads.  Date a human.

Next troubling element.  Why is Edward sticking around this girl anyway?  He wants to eat her.  He can’t.  He wants to fuck her.  He can’t (Oh sorry babe, if I do that I’ll lose myself and bite you to death).  What else is there to lure him to stay with her till she gets old and dies?  Her wit?  Not likely.

Oh yeah, what’s with all the dream sequences?  What is this, a grade 11 girl’s English assignment?  In fact, are we even sure that Meyer isn’t a teenage girl?  Let’s have a look: when Bella gets upset, she curls into a ball on the fucking forest and has a sook.  Exactly the sort of useless rubbish a teenage girl would think was beautiful and tragic.  What does Bella say to Jacob at some point?  That he’s like his own Sun?  I’m pretty sure that was in a poem my girlfriend wrote me when I was 16, and even then I thought it was turgid.

The best part of the film was towards the end when Edward said to Bella “I’ll never hurt you again.”  Awesome!  No need for another book or movie then.  That wraps up the trilogy quite nicely, in the second installment.  CAN SOMEONE PLEASE BITE THIS GIRL ALREADY AND END THE MOPING?  Please?  Thanks.

No. Fucking. WAY.

Holy fucking shit John McClane is badass. In Die Hard 4 he killed a helicopter with a car, punched a karate Asian chick at least three times in the head and killed the bad guy who was standing behind him BY SHOOTING HIMSELF THROUGH THE SHOULDER. The bad guy was holding a gun to an EXISTING gunshot wound and John McClane thought he should try to force ANOTHER bullet through so he could finish the movie. HE SHOT SOMEONE THROUGH HIMSELF. Who does that? John McClane does. Plus, he likes Creedence Clearwater Revival.

Man, I feel sorry for the poor dumb son of a bitch guy that takes his daughter’s virginity. Or whoever already did. McClane’s gonna come after him so hard. He’s already done that shit with a vengeance, so he would have to step it up another whole level for Die Hard 5: Fucking Up The Kid Who Fucked His Daughter.

I’m sorry, can we just go back a little bit? He shot the dude. Through himself. That is incredible. Oh, and also managed to say “Yipeekiyay motherfucker” whilst shooting through his own body to kill the head baddie. I think when the guy (because it was obviously a man) who wrote the film came up with that idea, he would’ve high fived himself. I don’t care that there are a couple of shit lines littered throughout the rest of the thing, that guy has turned in a majestic piece of cinema. I hope his wife or husband or whatever did whatever he asked for that night, because such a great man deserves reward.

Oh, McClane also called a fat guy Truckstop. And he also fell out of about seven buildings and got hit by a car and shot at by a fighter jet and RAN AWAY from a gas explosion and basically just refused to die. And when he dispatched some German a-hole in an awesome way earlier on and Justin Long said “Did you see that?”, McClane said “Of course I saw it, I did it.”

Motherfucker shot through himself. I will never beat that.

I’m Not Angry, Just Amused

This may be an old man thing to say, but when girls finish a sentence with the word ‘babe’, I feel like kicking them in their uterus.

“How’s your day been babe?”  It was fine until you mistook me for a cast member of The Hills.  I hope I used that pop cultural reference properly – I’ve not seen the show, but the people who I’ve heard talk about it seem like the sort of unforgivably dumb women who would say babe, and watch shows full of women that would do the same.

I saw the husband of one of the women on the show, Spencer Pratt, interviewed on Letterman once, and he seemed the sort of vapid tool who would hang out with such walking vaginas and consider himself awesome for being able to do so.

I digress.  Back to the babes.  It seems to be a required constant of the vernacular of girls who work in clothing boutiques.  It’s often accompanied by dyed blonde hair, a good amount of foundation and a year-round tan (and I don’t mean to say these geniuses are black, or ‘coloured’ as you oldies would say.  Orange is probably a closer visual reference.  Speaking of which, why the fuck do people do that?  How is it appealing to look like you’ve spent so much time in the sun that you’re either the dude in Old Man and the Sea or a homeless resident of Kakadu?  I guess it serves as an immediate signifier that a girl is good and easy).

Hey, lady, don’t call me babe.  It’s not an accurate word.  Do you see me walking around calling you interesting?  Or literate?

The whole debacle is even more annoying than being called ‘buddy’ by the kid in the Maccas drive through.

By the way, I’m well aware of the irony of starting this post with “This may be an old man thing to say”.  It’s just this one in particular that made me think my Dad is a far bigger influence on me than I realise.  Next I’ll be calling Kofi Annan a hungry nigger and discouraging my son from becoming an actor because “you have to bend over to get anywhere.”  True story.

Aria Awards Part 2

I know I said I’d stop, but this thing is a treasure trove.  I posted the last part but then Missy Higgins came on.

Damn, Missy Higgins, what is up baby girl?  Do you maybe want to go for dinner at a Chinese restaurant sometime?  I would treat you real nice and listen to you talk about your feelings for however long you wanted to.  Plus, I have a feeling that you’re a lady on the street but a freak in the bed, and I’m definitely okay with that.  I just want you to be yourself.

Which brings us to Lisa Mitchell.  I don’t even know what she needs to fix about her live-ness because I honestly think it’s beyond salvation.  She tries to rip off the shoulder shake, a classic Megan Washington move which looks beguiling and subconcious on her, but contrived and awkward on Mitchell.  It suits the rest of her shtick though.  Man, quirky girls are shithouse.

So, Jabba is still around.  He looks like Carl Williams.  Someone should probably tell him he’s not a rapper from Philly in 1992.

John Butler is a douchebag.  Is it really necessary to acknowledge the traditional owners of the land EVERY time you do ANYTHING anywhere in Australia?  And must you sound like such a smug prick when you do it?  I don’t hear you paying your respects to the NSW government for being the current owners of Acer Arena.  Keith Urban’s response was pretty funny though: “Right on, man.”

I wonder when they’re going to change the name of Best Adult Contemporary to Best Alternative.  As it stands, it’s just kind of insulting to everyone nominated for it.

Bertie Blackman looks like if Kelly Osborne got drunk and climbed over a barbed wire fence.  Actually, I’m not sure that’s she isn’t drunk.

Luke Steele: still a fuckhead.

I can never stay the course when it comes to my opinion of Marieke Hardy.  Listening to her unpredictable and literate chatter on the radio, and seeing her on First Tuesday Book Club on the ABC, makes me want to marry the shit out of her.  But then seeing her being quirky as fuck while presenting an award at the ARIAs makes me doubt my own taste a little bit.  I think after a while she might just get really annoying.  As if to lend credence to this theory, she also writes for both Frankie magazine and Packed to the Rafters.

The Doctor, the most annoying person to ever come from Triple J and the only person who could make Robbie Buck seem not-useless on radio, managed to roll out yet another self-satisfied and overly referential spiel.  This time it was on prime time television, which means his inane influence is growing, ever so slightly.  Can someone please buy him a new suit and a haircut?  He looks like an extra from Muriel’s Wedding.

I would like to take time out at this point to thank the ARIAs for giving us all a chance to hear C.W. Stoneking speak.  He is so fucking cool it hurts a little bit.  The guy’s almost an affront to nature, he’s that anachronistic and straight up weird, but if I ever have cancer and get granted a special wish, it would be to have him read the last rites to me as I pass.

Can The Drones please win at least one award?  They keep losing to Empire of the Sun, Australia’s obvious and not-nearly-as-terrific attempt at a certain American pyschedelic pop band.  To all the people in the music industry (because you all obviously read my blog): please stop voting like morons.  Everyone knows that the entire voting system is based on who wants to sell what, but maybe one year you could surprise us and NOT have almost all the awards won by Sony artists.  Just once would be super.

Ladyhawke: proof that you can make an already pretty boring song really boring on stage.  Science thanks you.

I’m going to go out on a limb and suggest that the two remaining awards, for Single and Album of the Year, go to a combination of Empire of the Sun, Ladyhawke and AC/DC.  I’m glad Blasko won something, not just because she’s a total babe but also because she’s been putting out consistently amazing and original music for years and hasn’t folded to the dark side of Dance/Pop crossover.

Aww shit.  Robbie Williams is about to come back on.  I love the ARIAs.

Yep, I was right.  Empire of the Sun took out both awards.  Here’s my formula for Australian musical success.  Ready for it?

Take an MGMT album, put in some water, then dress up in funny little costumes.

The Bestest Awards Show in the Land

Why are the ARIAs hosted by two people who have nothing to do with music?

Gyton Grantley – be less enthusiastic.  You’re scaring me.

Kate Ritchie – LEARN TO TALK.  I know you want to appeal to all Australians, but must you say every word like you run a cattle property in rural Victoria?

They still have an award for highest selling single?  How is that an award?  Hasn’t the winner already been rewarded by getting all that money for selling more singles than anyone else in the country?

Jessica Mauboy – shuuuut uuuup.  Stop talking.  Stop it.  STOP.  And while we’re on the topic of Mauboy, is her live performance a comedy piece or a concert?  She dances like a drunk funboy at Fridays and then doesn’t even sing the whole song!  OH WOW THEY JUST DID A CLOSE UP OF HER MOUTH CLOSED WHILE THE SINGING KEPT GOING.  Amazing.

Hilltop Hoods – you’re still dressing like teenage delinquents.  It’s the ARIAs – oversized t-shirts may not be the best option.

Highest selling album as well?  Really?  Can’t we at least pretend these things are based on musical merit?

Man, this year’s ARIAs are boring.  I hope someone drunk is presenting an award soon.

Seriously, Gyton Grantley, you should take less speed before getting in front of camera.

Who the fuck are these people presenting awards?  Am I stupid for never having heard of Cassie Davis?

I have a problem with artists winning awards two years in a row from the same album.  The Presets just nabbed best dance release for a single lifted off the album that won best album last year.  It reeks of admitting that we just don’t have any other people to give awards to.

Luke Steele is a massive fuckhead.  It looks like he has a glam singer on each shoulder.  And he keeps referring to himself as The Steele.  Is he for real?  He just thanked God as well, but I can’t tell if he’s serious or not.

Oh great, Richard Wilkins is presenting an award.  The guy that reported Jeff Goldblum as being dead.  And they referred to him as being a former muso…really?  Aaaaaand after checking Wikipedia, it turns out that the dude was in fact a New Zealand pop singer.  Man I would love to not buy his music.  Wikipedia also tells me that in 2000, Merrick and Rosso ‘announced’ that Sydney had lost the Olympic Games as an April Fools joke.  Wilkins lapped it up and declared it seriously on his own show.  What a beautiful example of a human.

Thank Christ for Robbie Williams.  He’s the first one in the show to actually have any idea of how to perform.  Who cares that the song he’s singing sucks – he’s bloody awesome.  He doesn’t even bother singing the chorus half the time – just gees up the crowd!  Green lasers as well?  Give the man an ARIA, please.  He has just upstaged the shit out of the whole fucking ceremony.  And he finished the song with an un-microphoned “Fuck off.”!  And the ARIA for best fucking man alive goes to …. Robbie Williams!

That’s enough for me.  I’m ending this blog on a high note.  Here’s a lesson to everyone in the Australian music industry: be more like Robbie Williams.  The man knows what the fuck he’s doing.  Stop ripping off the latest hip-hop trend.  Stop letting AC/DC record the same album over and over again.  Stop leaning on Twitter as some means to get people to buy things.

Just be awesome at stuff.  Shouldn’t be too hard.  Oh shit, Cokey Bassingthwaite is on stage.  Turn it off!  Turn it off!

PS Ladyhawke is not Australian.  As was determined by its people in 1901, New Zealand is NOT part of Australia.  It’s actually a different country.  You know how Indonesia is really close to us but we don’t give its mildly successful exports awards?  The same should apply for New Zealand.  DIFFERENT COUNTRY.

Want a full list of winners?  Check it out here.

Why Don’t More People Think What I Think?

You know how everyone has that one friend who you really like but never seems to hit it off with many other people?  Maybe not everyone has this, but I definitely do.  A few, actually.  They’re fucking terrific, but for some reason my other friends don’t think so, or haven’t seen enough of them to discover it.

The Veils are one of these friends.  Okay, granted, I don’t actually know any of them, but they feel like people who would like me if they met me.  That’s either egotistical or needy, or both.  Their second album is one of my favourite things in the whole world, and I discovered it by accident.

Friends of mine scored the support slot for these guys when they were in town last, a few years ago, and nobody that I asked had ever heard of them apart from one song which got played about 3 times on Triple J.  No-one bought tickets, so we populated the guest list and went along.  They were phenomenal.  I always find it hard to find an entrance point for a band that I’ve not heard before, but from the first haugty note of that gig, my friends and I were floored.

They were severe and caustic and snarly but really melodic.  A slightly wider version of the child that would spring forth from the loins of Nick Cave and Tom Waits, in that they occasionally steal from ska or straight up piano pop as well as offering moody stories with circling piano and shouty guitars.  I saw them again in Brighton this year and they were brilliant again.

They’re playing tomorrow night (Wednesday the 25th) at The Zoo and I’m really looking forward to being impressed again.  I’m sure it’ll be undersold.  Check out Not Yet, the opening track from their second album, Nux Vomica, and if it appeals, AT ALL, you should go to the gig.  Finn Andrews, the singer, used to date the bass player.  Now he dates the backup singer.  The very, very obvious tension on stage is fucking awesome.

I just want my friend to be more popular!

(Hopefully if this actually happens, I won’t lament their wider appeal and start passively hating them).

The Veils – Not Yet (download)

Of All The Stupid Sayings

Why do people say “Oh well, you can’t choose your family”?

Is that shit supposed to make you feel better?  You’ve just spent twenty minutes detailing how your mother never listens or how your brother stole hundreds of dollars from you and they respond with a purile truism?  If someone ever actually drops that phrase on me I’m not sure I’m going to be able to talk to them again.

Oh well, you can’t choose your family.  You’re right, you can’t.  Notch that one up in the ‘cons’ column for me thanks.  You can’t choose your family?  I’m pretty sure that’s a good reason to think about not having to put up with them in the future.  I didn’t choose this shit.  You people were forced on me!  I’m outta here.  Seeeeeya.

Go hang out with your friends, who you actually can choose.  You get the deciding vote in whether to have those people in your life, and even then half of them get phased out after a while.  Even the people I can choose can get annoying, so why the hell would I settle for those I can’t choose?  That saying is fatalistic bullshit.

By the way, this is just hypothetical.  I actually like my family.  I just hate when people say dumb things.