the writing's on the wall

I snapped this photo in the underground of Flinders Street Station, here in Melbourne, just tonight.
Nice one!
The offical poster reads, 'every piece of information helps' so somebody has jammed this one with the appropriate use of the word 'paranoia'.
It's a big up yours to John Howard and the fear mongers who are drubbing up nationalism, racism and anomie in the interest of increasing state surveillance here in Australia and therefore control over its population.
This country has been turning more and more into a police state over the last ten years and at an alarming rate in the last four or so years in particular.
It's sickening and frightening but wherever there is power there is resistance so I hold out hope.
I know, I know; I've said it all before and probably more eloquently than this.

do it yourself or do yourself in

I had an interesting evening this eve.
I went around to a friend's place this afternoon and hung out with him until we went to an open mic night at the cafe around the corner.
I invited my talented Northern Irish friend to come along and read his brilliant poetry, which he did. He, in turn, invited his talented friend along and she spontaneously picked up someone elses guitar and sang Autumn Leaves in a truly beautiful voice. And another jazz standard, although I don't know which one. She got me to back on the djembe but seeing as I had never used this particular djembe before and I haven't drummed much at all in the previous year and a half I was a little disappointed with my skills.
Still, I shat all over the the hippies there who couldn't keep a rhythm if it was superglued to their foreheads.
Actually, another performer who has African heritage and sings like Nicolette, only better, lent me the djembe so I started practicing/warming up only to be aggresively told off by this ugly, incapable and unfunny wank stain for interrupting his set. The problem was that he hadn't introduced himself and sounded so totally shitola that I thought he was just practicing. So when he told me off I stood my ground and threw his shit back at him. He backed down.
And then proceeded to drone and moan his chronic lack of ability onto the audience for a good half hour.
People who can't sing and can't play the guitar but who think they can and insist on tormenting an unwitting audience need to have their fingers cut off and their vocal cords severed. Seems fitting.
Or at least, I wish I'd brought some rotten tomatoes with me.
More unfortunate hippy action happened later tonight after the show:
Some peops were talking vaguely about 'how fucked the world is' and this one youngster sagely offered these words of wisdom to rapturous wonderment:
"People are talking about the forces of darkness but what we need to do is show them the light."
Like the light shining out of your anus, perhaps?
Could you simultaneously be any more vague, stupid and rhetorical, dipshit?
Why did I stay silent?
Several good things came out of tonight and not just some fellowship with some good friends.
One of them is that I have made a good new acquaintance and will be performing with her again this coming Wednesday at another open mic night but this time with my darabooka.
The other is that that I have a book of my talented friend's poetry so if any editors out there reading this are interested in some no bullshit quality poetry drop me a line.
Now Playing: Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea
(Thanks Ali)

richard cohen: gay conversionist, idiot

I find this vid truly fascinating not to mention absolutely hilarious.
That a man cannot come to terms with his own sexuality as it is and feels the need to sublimate perfectly normal and healthy desires is fine. Sad, true, but who cares?
But when he tries to cure others of their homosexuality, that's a problem...
And in this case, a hilarious one at that.

the drugs do work...

...and they fuck your brains too.
But never mind the bollocks: I have a job!
No more Slavers! No more shoe pricing! No more stacking product onto carts!
Now I have a job where I get to use my qualifications and my brain!
And Friday nights were made for blogging.
I've had a shit few months. Two guys I know and liked have died. Selfishly, this has made me feel a little vulnerable.
Work sucked.
I've had various ailments and the current one is some kind of itchy rash that won't quit.
Friends have been incommunicado despite my best efforts.
And I've been a moody little bugger.
But there have been some good things.
Such as: lectures on Deleuze and Guattari's Anti-Oedipus, good nights out with good music, good friends, Auslan (sign language) lessons and a new fucking job!
And the cat is going well too, thanks for asking.
I will blog more often.