November 30
Bad news is good news for someone (usually a TV Network in need of a ratings erection).
I am 90 pages into Suddenly Last Winter – an election diary, written by that champion of Labor causes, Bob Ellis and yet some bastard has requested the library to recall it back early (probably so the client can give it to an annoying relative as a Christmas gift, so they can spend the money saved on importing a second hand vuvuzela for the start of the National Rugby League season in 2011).
I'm still not really sure why I am reading Bob’s work.
He raises my blood pressure with some of his humanitarian addictions. When I sip a cup of Irish tea in the sunroom, it becomes quite clear. Compensation for my irritation with Bob's worldly view comes in the form of his greatest gift; the constant ability to make me piss myself laughing at the expense of himself and his subjects.
His greatest creative donation would be the poems he writes at night. They are the sort that should be recited at private school speech nights to keep parents awake before the Chancellor of Bad News announces another rise in fees. See example below.
I am 90 pages into Suddenly Last Winter – an election diary, written by that champion of Labor causes, Bob Ellis and yet some bastard has requested the library to recall it back early (probably so the client can give it to an annoying relative as a Christmas gift, so they can spend the money saved on importing a second hand vuvuzela for the start of the National Rugby League season in 2011).
I'm still not really sure why I am reading Bob’s work.
He raises my blood pressure with some of his humanitarian addictions. When I sip a cup of Irish tea in the sunroom, it becomes quite clear. Compensation for my irritation with Bob's worldly view comes in the form of his greatest gift; the constant ability to make me piss myself laughing at the expense of himself and his subjects.
His greatest creative donation would be the poems he writes at night. They are the sort that should be recited at private school speech nights to keep parents awake before the Chancellor of Bad News announces another rise in fees. See example below.
Beweep the fate of K......... R.........
His end is tears, his name is mud,
Defamed by all as a useless cunt
Knifed by comrades, back and front.
Judged by all a waste of space
Who's done his dash, who's run his race
Who did not, would not, once consult
Anyone not in his cult
Hubris, Primates, brought him low
More than any creeping foe,
Belief the sun rose from his arse
And no-one else was in his class
Hubris is a dreadful thing:
It fells the mightiest, oh king
It makes a joke of all-one planned
When one was ruler of the land.
Heed well the end of K.......... R..........
The whole world picked him as a dud,
But he breezed onward, preened and sneered
Striking all as fucking weird
He flogged his minions, praised his God
Called inquiries, pulled his wad,
Thought himself Christ's gift to men
Smiled and pulled his wad again
He did not see the penny drop,
Nor bear the dark steed come, clip-clop
But tottered, sleepless, round his dream
A cat engorged with too much cream
Who now in blank oblivion lies
An empty grave neath blazing skies,
A Quiz kid all said could not fail
Unwept, unsung, undone. Wassail.
Every friday night on Sydney talk station, 2SM, Graeme Gilbert hosts poetry night where callers subject listeners to their own original verses.
Sadly, we'll never hear this classic reach the airwaves because of that electronic pain-in-the-arse widely known in broadcasting circles as a seven-second delay system. If there is one thing I have figured out in life, it's this. The most effective wit is found in books where censorship is self-determined, unlike talkback radio or newspapers where "family values" and fuddy, duddy, political correctness act as a form of middle class contraception for the fragile egos of those scared of passionate, liberal use of the English language before 9pm..
Sadly, we'll never hear this classic reach the airwaves because of that electronic pain-in-the-arse widely known in broadcasting circles as a seven-second delay system. If there is one thing I have figured out in life, it's this. The most effective wit is found in books where censorship is self-determined, unlike talkback radio or newspapers where "family values" and fuddy, duddy, political correctness act as a form of middle class contraception for the fragile egos of those scared of passionate, liberal use of the English language before 9pm..
I was thinking of emailing Bob to compliment him on his latest work. But sadly his website has yet to configure an email address into its contacts page. I also wanted to find out if he ever got around to christening that piece of prose.
Why, God, are the best writers on the opposing ideological and/or political team?
I suppose that’s like trying to figure out why the Canterbury-Bankstown Bulldogs have won more premierships than Parramatta. It’s a universal enigma albeit a very disturbing one which has plenty of theories but alas, no single answer.
I suppose that’s like trying to figure out why the Canterbury-Bankstown Bulldogs have won more premierships than Parramatta. It’s a universal enigma albeit a very disturbing one which has plenty of theories but alas, no single answer.
DECEMBER
It's official. Only four months to go until the NSW Labor Party are expelled from Political Play School. I'm still wondering if I should have an election night party, considering the concession speech will probably need to be made after the exit polling comes through.
As a fan of Bob Ellis (and not the Labor Party), I would like to get Bob's view on The Latham Diaries. Also, does Suddenly Last Winter relate to Labor's winter of discontent when Rudd was expelled and Julia installed?
ReplyDeleteIs 2SM's poetry session for real? Why is 2SM subjecting its listeners to on air poets and their recitations?
Only 4 months till a landslide election victory for the Liberals in NSW. Labor better make evacuation and emergency plans as this landslide will take all with it !