Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Review - Lolly Scramble

I first heard about this listening to Canberra's 666 when Tony Martin (the comedian et al) was spruiking this book at the James O'Loughlin show a few months back. But I forgot about it. Thanks to a chance encounter with a random Wiki as I wasted countless hours procrastinating on my assignment I came across it again.

So I bought it yesterday.

For those of you not in the know Tony Martin was a member of the legendary Late Show team from the early 90's here in Oz. It was the must watch show of our generational grouping. You didn't go out to the pub until after it had been on. It was kind of like our SNL for want of an analogy.

Tony, a kiwi import from long ago (with still dulcet tones of kiwi accent goodness) wrote material and did some of the opening stand up bits at the beginning. He was the one who coined the theory about the existance of '... the evil siscors...'

You had to be there. He later teamed up with Mick Molly for the most piss funny radio show I have ever had the fortune to listen to, and after he retired from that, went on to make Bad Eggs - an aussie crime dramedy that is perhaps one of the funniest Oz movies ever made.

So this is his book. It's snapshots from his life that were funny. It's not a 'this is who I know' but for the most part a reveal of past characters he met, and stupid crap that he experienced that anyone of us could have done.

I read about the first 2/3 last night when I got home. About to finish it off. It's that much of a page turner. It's burst out laughing and until you think you'll choke funny. And if you like trippy tales of 'this happened to me once' that are both mundane and freakish, it's the book for you.

It's about $25. Total value for money if you like a belly laugh.

Here's Tony's wiki. For a proper review by people who know stuff go here

Oh - the CDs from the best bits of the radio show. Well worth it as well.

Worth it alone for the Patrick Stewart at the drive thru bit.

School Reunion

Recently my old high school got together for the class of 1990 School Renunion.

I didn't go.

I was invited, which was flattering considering the effort they went to track me down, but I didn't even give an RSVP.

So why not? I could have gone. It was held in my old home town where my parents live, so it would have just been the drive up that would have cost the bucks.

Work's been hectic and I had friggin' uni to contend with, which made it difficult. But in truth I could have gone if I had really wanted to.

But I didn't.

Thinking about it I felt like a tool when I was at high school, and I acted like a tool in high school. I was firmly split across the freak/geek divide and didn't really get on with many others.

So turning up to this would have simply reinforced that message. That and instead of turning up a bronzed hero that the ladies I liked would have melted in the quim at, I would have shuffled in even fatter, balder, and with a chosen job of no interest to anyone.

I know it's pretty juvenile to have the 'I would be a great success' high school reunion fantasy. But I figured if I have swelled up, lost hair, am boring, and I remember high school not as rollicking fun but as an uncomfortable experience with much misery attached, then really there is no point.

Still this was the 16th reunion. Who knows that the 20th will bring? Maybe I will go to that one instead. If they bother to invite me of course :)

And if I have dropped all my weight, have advanced hair, a fake tan, a better job, a completed masters, gorgeous children, a new chin, pecs instead of flaboids, and a whole host of other 'I'm great' wankery that would enable me to walk proud and tall and not feel like the freaky fat geeky I was (am).

But I am not going to stop playing RPGs. RPGs fucking rawk and anyone who doesn't think so can sit on it and rotate.

(rolls several dice then high fives Techno, Hiraethin, and Cass as one of the results is a nat 20)

It turns out I have a speech impediment

I have been struggling with uni for the past few weeks and finally, finally I was in the dock for my turn to talk.

Knowing there was a video we were scheduled to watch and other competing time interests, I had to boil my six pages of speaking notes into a small compressed amount of time. For me, speaking normally, with exposition, it's about five minutes per three pages. Trouble was there was a bit of techie stuff in this so it blew it out.

I was off. Unfortunately I was so keyed up I sounded to all intents and purposes like a fucking country race caller.

"And -the -strategic -imperitives -ah -faced -are -coming -up -the -outside, -followed -closely -by -the -risk -of -regional -destablisation, -and -ah, -behind -that -ah -are -needs -of -alliance - balance"

I didn't realise it at the time because nobody said anything. I got to the end and went 'done', and kinds of gasped a bit because I am after-all a fat wheezy boy with a note from matron.

There was kind of a blinking eyes of confusion back at me from the audience.

'My,' said my tutor. 'That's the most rapid fire presentation I have ever heard in my 20 years of teaching.'

'Oh,' I said. 'Um, was I off the mark at all with my answer?'

She looked crestfallen.

'In truth,' she said. 'I wouldn't know.'

D'oh!

I really got to learn to slow it down. Trouble was I wouldn't have been able to get it all out if I had.

Lousy horns of a dilemma!

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Regrets...

For some reason in life there are places where you go where you will always have a regret you went - even when you expected otherwise because of the distance in time since the last visitation.

Take places to eat. KFC, bless ‘em, is one of those places for me that I go maybe every three years. It takes about that much time for the regrets for the last visit to pass and for me to think ‘yeah, KFC, alright.’

It’s been I think 18 months or maybe two years since the last KFC sojourn. It resulted in me parked by the side of the road in mid Autumn on the cusp of severe weather, with fingers down my throat trying to arc it out of my stomach because of my realisation my KFC spawned IBS flare up was about to render me doubled over in abdominal distress.

Left: The Colonel's wee beady eyes

Today I headed to the Canberra Centre on a present buying mission for an impish niece. Package organised I went down to the food court and spied me a place to go. I won’t say its name, but it begins with a letter close to the front of the alphabet and its food genre is that of a particular world region.

It had been about two or so years since my last grab from there, having been disappointed bitterly before. But I used to be a large sized portions man (now I’m small portion man so as to arrest slowly expanding girth), and I wondered if that had been it. So I plucked up some courage and got it.

It was fucked. It was too big – piled about three inches high – presumably the people thinking that as a before photo for the casting call to the fucking Biggest Loser I would want a pile high. Well fuck you, ‘cause I only ate half of it. It tasted mediocre and left a stodgy lump in my guts that will likely form ultra dense diamond hard faecal matter that I will have to risk a heart attack with in order to pass properly.

So I have regrets. Big stinking regrets and already can feel it being processed in an uncomfortable ‘fingers down the throat KFC style’ pain ridden manner.

What these places need is a plastic sleeve that they can admit 8”x10” glossies, head shots if you will, of people with regrets like me and bung ‘em on the wall. So if I try to order there they can so ‘very sorry HM, but you no want. You asked to be banned.’

If fucked up RSLs and other clubs that steal pensions from the old and disabled and other classic pokie patrons that shovel their money into a glittering box that makes noises at them can have a ‘do not admit’ gallery of self-shame, surely fucked up food court dining in/outs can do the same?

Of course the trouble for KFC would be their display of willing unvictims would be plastered across the walls, floor, and ceiling. They’d need some sort of e-display that ‘blipped’ through the entries at say one a second. Or whatever is a nice safe transfer time so as not to stun the epileptics that have walked in and are already trying to take in the mis-en-scene that is a freakishly lit plastic food palace and are already straining to avoid dropping to the floor and flop about in tongue swallowing distress.

I suppose if that’s not a goer, there’s always self control. Trouble is, if I had self control I wouldn’t be 1.6 the man I am.

Right I need to hop on this here movie superhero bandwagon and make me some c$sh

Caught underwater by his foot in an anchor chain and drowning in mysterious toxic waste while to save a penguin or other vulnerable sea creature, he received tremendous powers of producing a thick viscous white liquid from his outstretched hands that he could use to stun enemies, halt them in their tracks, shield himself, or even use as a sticky ladder up walls and steep surfaces. Naming himself Seaman™ after his former profession, he entered the ranks of superhero legend …
---------------------------------------

‘So Seaman you have found me,’ sneered Darkon™, feared super villain noted for his blue skin, wavy pointed black beard, rams horns, reddish eyes, and powers of increasing the size of insects.

Left: Rough mock up of Darkon

Surrounded by giant bees, wasps, and some giant ants the size of Shetland ponies, Darkon™ launched into a complicated series of wheezes that pseudo indicated laughter.


‘Your giant insects are no match for Seaman™,’ shouted the super hero. ‘Maximum gout!’


Pointing his arms together he opened his hands. From the palms blasted a massive gob of his special Seaman™ fluid, arcing across the turbine room of the power plant to the city Darkon™ had threatened.


The sticky fluid splattered across the bees, instantly hardening on Seaman™’s mental command, causing them to crash atop the ants below, their pincers chittering in mute anger, unable to move due to the dripping fluid also seizing their limbs in place.


But no! The Giant Wasp evaded the huge burple of Seaman™ power, and with a lazy dive headed for the plucky hero.


‘Shield of Seaman™’ cried Seaman™, moving his hands out in the manner of a breaststroke, a shield of his fluids forming in a protective cocoon.


The wasp bounced off the rock hard white surface, spun out of control and into a spinning turbine shredding in a shower of exo-skeleton, wings, and insect goop.


With another mental command, Seaman™, could his shield to return to liquid, puddling to the ground.


‘No, no,’ gasped Darkon™, his arms upraised in terror. ‘No!’


‘Now for the money shot,’ grinned Seaman™, holding his hands aloft. Being a Christian, he turned to the Lord for inspiration to summon his power in great strength, much like the way the word 'Muad'dibl' was used in the film Dune™.

‘Oh God,’ he beseeched. ‘Oh God, OH God, OH GOD.’

Then he let loose the most incredible stream of Seaman™ fluid he’d ever loosed before, hosing the unfortunate Darkon™ down head to foot in white globules of raw Seaman™ power.

‘I always knew you’d come to a sticky end,’ chortled the hero, slumping against the body of a goo covered ant and fishing for a pack of smokes to enjoy a post-conquest cigarette.

Sunday, May 28, 2006

Just a quick note on customary law

I was watching Insiders this morning. It's normally a mistake to do that for me because I end up yelling at the TV like a halve drunk wife beater wearing dad when his fave team fumbles whatever it is that sporting people fumble (each other? in the showers afterwards?).

Howard was on. Cue shouting goggles. He crinked up (he does that, watch his eyes when attempting to portray earnest) about 'one law, one people' in regards to customary law with Aboriginal Australians, all the while putting a velvet boot into the NT government by saying 'if it's got to the stage where people are considering bringing in the army, then you have to ask if the state/territory government is up to it'.

You've been in 10 years pal. You knew what was happening. And your government did fuck all about it apart from use it as a PR thing in your favour. It's good, it's very good the issue is getting the press now, but don't you fucking dare wash your hands of what's gone wrong. It's gone wrong across ALL avenues of government; local, state/territory, and federal.

To the customary law thing. Customary law is not applied when finding guilt. Howard fucking implied it was. Where it comes in is during sentencing. As in ameliorating factors. Howard thinks that this should not be such a factor. 'One Law, One People.'

He's a fucking lawyer so he knows fucking better.

Customary Law is not codified in sentencing arrangements any where in state and federal law. There's not get out of jail free with it. All it is, like so many aspects of a person's behaviour, is the guilty party saying there were circumstances involved in this crime that I'd like the judge to take into account when passing sentence.

That's it. Here's some other factors judges will take into account; youth, education level, mental illness, whether the person was compos at the time, family background, cultural background, previous sentences, previous time in prison, whether they've attended counselling during pre-trial, contrition, whether they pled guilty, race, the damage suffered by the victim, the victim's family, and a whole other bunch of stuff that make up the person in the dock accepting the crime.

Howard naturally pointed to the fucked up fuckwit that got two or so months for taking his promised bride around to his place and doing her in the bottom without her consent. Yes, it was fucked up. And yes the judge took customary law into account - like he also took into account the fuckwit's knowledge of white law, his education level, his background, and a whole host of other factors. Then, later, he admitted it was not so great that he, the judge, gave a light sentence. A sentence which was increased on appeal by the way.

And that's why the appeals process exists. So if the prosecution feels the defendant got off light they can appeal. And if the defendant feels too harsh, then they can. It's a checks and fucking balances system. As it worked in that case. No mention of that by Howard, that the appeal meant an increase in sentence.

The federal Liberals are skirting very dangerously to the race card on this issue. Take Brough and his 'law and order now, Now, NOW' stance. Yes Brough, law and order in places like Wadeye is terrible. But guess what. There are gangs because they have nothing to do, no education, and no job prospects, and live in some cases 20 to a fucking house.

Any community facing that would suffer law and order issues as well you know. There is no silver bullet. This is 30 years of socio-economic practice done poorly and without hard management that has created a lost race of broken fucking people.

And blaming some aspects, some, of what skerrick of culture they have left, is a fucking cop out.

Pitching Customary Law as the reason behind the misery of Aboriginal Australia is disingenuous yet, and a blatant domestic political ploy at worst.

Don't wank on about it. Fix it. Fix it at all levels. From more police on the ground, to employment/education/housing programs that work, are robust, are meaningful, and are a catalyst for Aboriginal Australia to remove itself from the waste of alcohol, drugs, sniffing, gambling, fighting and all that other shit that they ended up doing because we, "civilised Australia", put them in the too hard basket and let them rot in the stinking hot desert in cesspools so fetid we would not let animals live there
.

Please shut the fuck up

Yesterday I took a break from my gruelling uni studies and went and saw a movie with the wife instead. Being fans of all things Marvel(tm) we went and saw X-Men3.

Unfortunately for us behind us sat a family that included a three and eight year old. Now I've nothing against kids in movies, except perhaps say violent movies. And kids are very precious. Indeed somewhere somehow right as I type there is probably a grieving mother or father cradling their dying tube up the nose child as it slips away into the endless dark.

But apart from having to do something as mounful as that, and physical injury or mental distress apart from this one, is there anything worse than cinema patrons that WON'T SHUT THE FUCK UP.

The toddler didn't know what was happening. She's like three. She's probably thinking 'food, sleep, poop pants, Wiggles' or something like that. So she's talking away. And so's the eight year old. Endless fucking bleating on about who knows what.

My wife, bless her has had a stressy week in a stressy job. She asks politely for them to shush. No reaction. Blank staring faces ahead. They start up again two minutes later. 'Please be quiet'. A slight pause. But, no three minutes later more. Finally my wife, with tremour in her voice, on the edge of panic says loudly 'Please, please be quiet. Please, please.'

At this point, and being a coward, I suggested we relocate. So instead of the awesome seats we had we ended up down the front where you have to tilt your head back planetarium style to watch the movie.

Just as the third act begins the fucking 12 year old girl in front of us takes a loud fucking call on her fucking bedazzled mobile phone. I stuck my sasquatch like head over the seats and asked her to shush and she gave me that quizzled 'I'll be a sec' look. Be a sec my over large right teste. Normal volume conversation that continued about setting up a meet on the morrow for 3.30 pm.

Fucking stupid little scrag bitch and her fucked up complete total fucking lack of manners. Sure, people need phones and need to be contacted. But take the call the fuck outside you camel toe revealing emaciated crop top wearing titless mini Bratz.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Watch Out - New Terror Threat Emerges

Whilst doing a lap of partial honour in Ireland (I say partial given there were a number of Irish pollies that did not want to meet Howard and boycotted his speeches), Howard was asked his opinions on gay marriage.

I kid you not. This is what he said of the push for gay marriage. To whit that it was "a form of minority fundamentalism".


(cue
Bill Lumbergh impression). "Yeeeeaahhhhhhh, Minority Fundamentalism". You can see the comment here.


Left: "WANTED - Warning: is armed and just nasty!"

Because as you know 'fundamentalist' is not a term used with, dare I pun (I will, I must!) gay abandon. It's a loaded term. It's a loaded term because he, and his government, and indeed some state governments, bandy it around about Arabs and Muslims in an effort to transform fear into electoral success.

I can see it now. Gay men and women meeting secretly in dusty hideouts to plot murder on an unsuspecting public all the while marvelling at each others outfits and discussing how much they like Kylie Minogue. Then, the plan is on. A plane is hijacked. During the terrible flight where they plan to fly it into a obvious hetrosexual looking building, they force the doomed passengers to put up some frilly curtains and shit.


No cries of 'Allah Akbar" as the plane slots firmly into the buttocks that is a building of note, but more something like "we're looking FAAAAAAAAAAABULOUS!"


I can just hear the black box (which is orange) recording now.


"Give me a go at the controls." "No" (sound of slap). II dibsied" "Oh you are such a bitch, give me that you fag" "No, it's mine you she bitch" "Oh look, here it comes" "Well, take that Howard, you ghastly drub. BEND OVER, IT'S CLOBBERING TIME!!!"


And so forth.

Way to go the wedge fuckwit.
But, wait, to be fair to him, this is stuff he firmly believes.

Because fags have no business declaring their love for each other and registering with the government to gain the legal protections that derive from a binding contract between two people to share their lives together.

Please note that grotesque sterotypes of gay hijackers used purely for comedic effect.

Gitmo is Great!

Gitmo is great according to Falhel Junardi, a herder from Afghanistan that was sold to the US by bounty hunters.

‘I was minding my goats with my AK-47 to guard against marauders when I made the mistake of being bearded and near bounty hunters,’ explained the herder. ‘When next thing I know a bag is thrust over my head and I am disarmed. I woke up in a shipping container with four other men, which fortunately had air holes in it. Then I was taken into a dark room and beaten for several hours.’

‘After the beatings where they demanded to know all about my Talib masters, which I have none, I was bundled into a plane and flown ZOOOOOOM into the air. My first time on a plane.’

Left; "Gitmo is very, very nice," says Junardi

The goat herder was amazed at the sensation of speed he could sense through the cloth bag over his head, and wished he could have moved around a bit more to enjoy it except he was shackled in the hog tie position.


‘We stopped for a couple of days in some place where they look a bit funny, and a car battery was used to apply very painful electricity through my body in the groinal area leaving me with single down there hair. Then ZOOOOM back on the plane! How exciting!’

Falhel eventually reached Guantanamo Bay where he was detained like hundreds of other suspected talibs, Falhel unfortunately resembling a sub commander of the Taliban that had been seen in the region.

‘For many, many, many, many weeks I was interrogated by the US, who persistently held a grainy photo in front of me demanding information on Taliban operations. The only operations I could discuss were my goats, of which I told them all I know. For example Ulaze has a ripped tendon and needs help to get over larger rocks. But when I said that they got mad and threw tampons at me.’

‘It was quite the game,’ said Falhel happily.

‘Life is so much better here. Sure I get ‘waterboarded’ now and then, those funny Americans, and they gave me a Koran to read. It’s the only thing I’m allowed to read except of course I am illiterate. But it makes a fine talking point in my sparse cage cell of bed, blanket, and commode. Can you believe this? Look I can flush it when ever I want!’

‘I get to go outside now and then, depending on whether the Americans believe I am this person they say I am or not. Trouble is of course more information comes in while I am here then it’s a fresh round of interrogations. I hope they do the tampon thing again. It was just crazy!’

‘I do miss my goats though. Especially Ulaze, for she was willing to snuggle up when the temperature got right down. But I have a blanket, and get to see the sun, and twice a year I can even play soccer with a ball! Makes a nice difference from that game where we drag a sheep’s head around a field from horseback. Less blood.’

Falhel said it would be nice if the Americans would eventually let him go but understood that for some people their role in life was to slip between the cracks of ‘the great game’.

‘The world has had unfair punishment of innocents since time immemorial. People are but pawns in the great game, and alas for me I stupidly had facial hair and a gun near where Talib insurgents had been seen entering across the border, and I sought of look like this fellow if you squint a bit. So I am here for as long as the great Mr Bush says I need to be here. I would not want him to go to any trouble. Besides, I am glad the Talibs were kicked out. They were very bad men who did many bad things. It's just a shame they think I am one of them and that I had to share this lovely jail with some of that persuasion.’

‘But back home I was at the mercy of getting HIV, exposure to drugs, and being raped in the bottom many, many times as a free man. But this prison removes me from those risks. Oh it could be much, much worse believe me.’

Falhel Junardi said that he hopes the Americans will reclassify him soon so he can be allowed other freedoms like some of the less threatening unbearded prisoners have, which includes eating so much food he would become obese, play soccer more than once every six months, and know about this mysterious boy wizard the other prisoners have spoken of from a popular book in their 'more than the Koran' library.

'This Harry Potter sounds most magical,' said Junardi. 'I cannot wait for someone to read it to me.'

(Courtesy of Cass); For the AM report that talks of a US Senator's glowing endorsement of conditions at Gitmo then see here.

Saturday, May 20, 2006

Confessions

I'm back home after a 10 hour day at work doing uni reading - don't worry managed to procrasinate a whole bunch and really only got a few hours in.

So I've had a couple of vodkas and diet lemons and have a pleasing buzz. That's as about as far as I can go with it lest the IBS fairy twizzle me guts with a sharpened drink strirrer, but it's a nice buzz nonetheless.

So, confession time. Obviously not the really sorded stuff because I am still largely compus. And I basically share everything here anyway.

Here we go.

A) I like Friends. I do. I think it's funny and it makes me laugh. I think the dude who plays Chandler is hysterical.

B) I keep spare undies at work in case of an accident. I don't know how I'd access the undies apart from the contorted duck waddle of the recently defectated - but I have 'em there just in case. When you have IBS you have to factor these possibilities in.

C) Once I streaked at work. I worked in a locked office and there was no danger of anyone seeing me. So I nudded up and danced around feeling free. As I stood there on the freshly vacuumed carpet I felt like a tool. I quickly got dressed again. Let us never speak of this again.

D) I fake laugh. I do. At work, around co-workers, if they say something mildly amusing, I'll laugh - even if I don't think it's really funny. Because it's expected I guess. And I like people to feel at ease.

E) I hate people pulling in front of me in traffic. I leave room about three car lengths for safety so juiced up fuckwits are always pulling in front of me. I wish they'd fucking crash and die. Sometimes. I know, it's harsh, but I fucking hate it. If you're out there, and you pull in without warning, you're a fuckwit and I hate you. At least, if I didn't know you.

Is this lazy?

I have a bodgie old tellie next to my PC. Well two feet from my PC. I have it on most of the time I'm in here. It's such an old tellie it doesn't have a remote. So to change channel I have to physically push a button. I am victim, it seems to the Philip Adams 'Law of the Backside' which used to rule how TV ratings were determined in ye olde days before remotes were common.

Except I worked out that my foot long back scratcher knocks this distance down to half. I can in fact just lean forward a bit and, still seated, use that to hit the button instead. It takes a couple of goes to land the stylised hand on said button but I get there in the end.

Is that lazy?

Yep, I'd say so.

Friday, May 19, 2006

Forgetful Arab-Australian takes advantage of terrorism hysteria

Melbourne, Australia; Akred Malunjet, 43, a portly accountant a bit on the forgetful side, has claimed public hysteria over the remote possibility of a terror attack in Australia has meant he no longer has any pressure to offer monetary rewards for any return of lost property or left behind items such as his wallet.

‘I am always forgetting things. My wallet, my keys, my glasses, notepads, books, umbrellas, you name it. People are always attracting my attention to let me know I have left things behind. Which is great. But this Aussie thing you have with money or wallets, you know, giving them some of the money handed back to you by way of thanks. Well prior to S11 I was handing out $10-$20 a week!’

Following the terrible incidents where several Arabic terrorists ploughed hijacked aircraft into numerous buildings of spiritual importance to the United States which cost thousands of lives, Akred hit upon a much cheaper option than simply handing out cash.

‘It came to me after the fourteenth email I had received from work colleagues claiming a friend of a friend of a friend said stay out of Footscray, St Kilda, or Essendon, London, Beruit, or Baghdad because a returned wallet to an Arab gentlemen had earned the honest person a friendly warning about an impending bombing. For some reason being an Arab my work friends thought I knew all about it and could offer advice. Because you know us Arabs, we just sit around all day debating fanatical Islam and terrorism, much like all Christians do when they constantly debate the latest rant of hate from Jim Bob Grand High Dragon of the Church of the White Saviour or other out on a limb Christian related figure such as Pat Roberston or Jerry Falwell or other bigoted freaks that lurch on the far right of the Christian church. Much the same way Islam has its dodgy brothers mouthing off crap constantly.’

Akred, who happens to be a Coptic Christian, said that from that point on whenever his wallet was returned, he’d happily give a ‘friendly warning’ instead.

‘You name it, I named it,’ he said happily. ‘They were so shocked they completely forgot about the expectation of monetary reward. In fact, once I said to stay off the freeway that connects my work to my home suburb. When it came time to go home, no traffic! Can you believe it?’

Mr Malunjet said that ‘friendly warnings’ have also meant they he has gotten to the front of long queues at the football and in supermarkets when going shopping.

‘There is one downside to the hysteria however,’ said Akred. ‘The fact that I’ve been verbally abused as ‘an Osama’, a ‘Tabouli eater’, a ‘Raghead’, and that I have been spat at on many, many occasions, completely de-linked to my verbal wallet return awards. Oh well, if that’s the price to pay for a smooth drive home in half the time as whitey takes fright, then hey, no skin off my brown nose.’

Thursday, May 18, 2006

From yesterday's Crikey

A post from Chris Graham, editor of the National Indigenous Times in an article titled Abuse in Indigenous communities can be fixed

The poisonous culture of sexual abuse we saw exposed on Lateline this week is not Aboriginal culture. It is the culture of people with no hope. It's not unique to Australia; it is replicated in every poor community around the world. If you took any race of people and subjected them to the dispossession and neglect that Aboriginal people have endured for generations, you would have precisely the same result.

Building a first world community with first world morals out of a third world community that has endured third world conditions for generations is not cheap. In fact it's very, very expensive. And the truth is, Australia has never even tried.

Chris goes on to point out the derth in funding and the inequitable distribution of resources to communities. The spirit is willing in these places but the resources are weak according to Chris.

He makes this salient point

For several years, Wadeye elders have been screaming for more police resources to help restore law and order, but in spite of an NT government promise for seven additional police, none have arrived.


Wadeye today has three police. Tennant Creek, with an almost identical population, has 26. Wadeye is a black community. Tennant Creek is a white community. Wadeye is a dysfunctional community. Tennant Creek is not. Wadeye has identified a solution to one of its problems. Wadeye has been ignored.

We should be fixing this. All governments should be fixing this - state and federal. And for those communities where sending educated people out to help fix them is difficult - give them fuck loads of money and resources so they will do it. I've seen up front and personal the shambling despair these places have, of little kids covered in sores with filthy nappies as their blasted drunk parents amble around like the living dead. It's just wrong.

We need to fix this. We have a third world people in a first world country. Yes, we fucked up with Stolen Generation. But remaining completely hands off from intervening is in my mind worse.

I just hope this issue does not sink back into the mire like it always has before, and something is done. And yes if that means treading on sensitivities on cultural practice then we do it. We do it with care and we do it with passion. We don't treat them as subhuman as we do it, like we did in the past. No paternalism, but cooperation instead.

We have a massive fucking surplus. Fuck tax breaks. Work out a workable plan to assign resources and fix that instead. Generations of Aboriginal Australians will thank you for it.

The belt up dilemma

Lately I've been going beltless to work. This is because I am a Harry High Pants and consequently my Hitchcock profile is in fact the Letter B. I could second letter of the alphabet for Seasame Street for my country.

So as a Harry High I really don't need a belt cause the fat overflaps and under flaps of heavy manflesh bulge out and retain the pants in place.

But, this bulge is only rock solid for the early morn. My wife thinks its bloating that happens in the morning that's to blame, that once I get moving my pant securring under and over bulges delfate leading me to the potential of a Rivernudes.

Rivernudes HM? What the hell is Rivernudes? Is this one of those humerous dodgy porn title efforts like Cliffbanger available in your fine Fyshwick?

Well no. Like most relationships my wife and I have a series of cute 'only us' words. Well, it's likely other people have similiar words like 'Pumkiny Wumpkiny' too. But anyway, Rivernudes. Rivernudes is the code for when movement means your pants fall down. ie if I do a vigorous jig as a Harry High and suck in the tum, then down come the pants. A movement much akin to that of Riverdance dancers (MOVE YOUR FUCKING ARMS YOU FUCKERS).

Rivernudes is fine in the home. But in the workplace when partial deflation has occured, then it's a real danger that walking softly can actually spark a potential RN. And dakking yourself in the workplace, even if it was a function where you played Pool and failed to sink a ball, is a definate no no.

So I'm considering it's back to belts. Even though as an IBS person having additional pressure on the gut is not fun.

There's braces sure. But braces on a fat dude is basically you saying 'I'm fat, and I always will be'. Either that or you're a fireman. But given the fitness regime of fireman I've yet to seen a fat firie (excellent my father in law but he'd gone to seed by the time I met him and his running across a collapsing roof days were far behind him).

Could I go Larry Low and wear a belt? I suppose I could, but LL to me feels like they're going to drop. Plus I hate the gut sag over the belt. It makes me feel fatter than being cinched in place 1890's corset style by the Harry High.

So I guess it's back to belts for the short term. Maybe on a lower setting. I could after-all adjust the belt as the day goes on.

Of course I could just lose some weight and sort it out that way.

Ah fuck this, I'm going to go eat a flake bar.

(BTW I went from Larry Low to Harry High at uni after these two drunk fuckers laughed so hard they cried because my fatty fat fat crack was showing and I had the gut over-sag. It's actually more comfie this way - if you don't have to wear a belt).

For mah main man...2

50,000!

... yay ...

(bitch)

Makeshift Holy Symbols for when the lurching undead are bearing down upon you

While having morning breaking of fast with the wife the issue of repelling the undead came up, to whit the assembling of a holy symbol in a pinch. Of course you know the standard crossing of index fingers or, as Pratchett notes, any useful items at hand in a castle to make a cross such as candles. It’s just that easy. Except of course, what if you’re not a Christian?

Take Islam for example. They have no definitive symbol of their own, except perhaps the crescent, and making a crescent shape with yer thumb and forefinger means you’ve gone a bit slanty on the L for Loser symbol – which is just going to make ‘em mad. What about a picture of a minaret combined with some call to prayer chanting? Would that work? Of course the haunted castle would have to have some nice piccies of some minarets to hand.
So unlikely.

Jewish? Try assembling a menorah from items to hand or using your fingers. It be doable but very confusing. And it woul
d take time to assemble your hands to form the seven branches – I’m thinking little finger, ring, and middle raised on both sides – with hands together – with indexes down and thumbs up to form one arm of said hand candelabra. And forget about trying the Star of David finger style – or using objects from around the haunted castle. I’m not sure if the shambling undead will give you time to insert lever A into rod B to get yer star up and running before they get to you.

‘Damn … nearly … look hang on … oh crap, five points? It’s supposed to be six … what .. no … ARRRGGGHHH.’

What about non Abrahamic faiths? Buddhism? The closest they have to a symbol is a fat dude with his tum hanging out. I’d be okay, I could just wh
ip up my shirt tit flashing style and scream through my muffled top ‘back, back undead or feel the wrath of my man boobies.’ But you skinny fuckers would be well fucked. Indeed, as irony would have it, most Buddhists that I’ve seen are svelte skinny non meat eating types and will hardly have access to the fleshy goodness that is a walking Buddha statue for when the undead come calling. Unless you could do the Trey Parker Cartman where you kind of arc your arms out from your side to indicate girth and cry ‘I’m fat, I’m fucking fat, back off.’ I’m not sure if a fat person impression would help.

And other Dharmic religions, those that have their theology and philosophy center on the concept of Dharma, a Sanskrit term for "fixed decree, law, duty", especially in a spiritual sense of "natural law, reality"?


What’s a Sikh going to do? Well most Sikh's have a passel of holy symbols or items of faith on them at all times. The Kesh (the uncut hair), the Kanga (small comb), the Kara (circular heavy metal bracelet), the Kirpan (ceremonial dagger), and Kacha (long underwear). Whip off the turban and swing their hair about slow mo like in a shampoo commercial? Would having the comb or bracelet count as a holy symbol, or would it just look like a crap spruiker outside one of those shitty $2 shops that infest our malls and supply joke presents at Christmas (or other spiritually aligned retail sale spike points)? The dagger? Undead aren’t scared of daggers. They tend to look at them stuck in their decaying flesh and go 'muuuurrrrghhhh'. What about powering off your pants manpower style to reveal the long undies? Would that do anything? Even if it didn’t I’d still like to see that.

‘Behold undead, feast your eyes on this. RRRIIIIIIPPPPPPP’ {cue It’s Raining Men}. What if all that does is encourage the looming undead to fish for coins from musty purses to drop down your pants stripper style? Do strippers even accept coins given that a bunch of coins would simply collect in the gusset and make it sag to their knees?

Left: Manpower pants would be required for the reveal of the sacred undies.

What about Hindis? Does that Tilaka symbol on their foreheads count as holy as far as the undead are concerned? You can't disarm a dot after-all so they'd always be packing holy heat. But wouldn’t that be the supernatural equivalent of defending yourself against a mugger using only a laser pointer. ‘Stand back, lest I potentially cause minor damage to your retina’. Could they pretend to have extra arms like Vishnu or Ganesha or one of the many other multi limbed Hindu deities? Where would they find those in a castle? Maybe pulled off those empty suits of platemail that seem to abound and cram them under their underarms sticking forward like Fonz going ‘heyyyyy’?

And of course there's the issue of atheists. Agnostics are okay, because they’ve seen enough movies to know that even if you’re not sure what’s up or out there, fashioning a crucifix is usually a good move Vs undead. But atheists, especially the really militant ones that have glasses and beards and wear jumpers with leather patches on the elbows and earnestly bleat on at parties about how superstition and religion is just opiates for a primitive mind, what are they going to do? There’s no symbols for atheism is there? And even then, undead would be a manifest challenge to their rationalist empirical evidence only mindset. As my wife said it. ‘Well, they’d just stand there and say ‘I don’t believe in you’ then get their heads taken off.’

As for all the modern faiths out there, it’d be a tough call as well. Scientologists could I suppose swing an E-Meter around like it was a flail or thrust up quivering copies of Dianetics. But what are the odds that the undead in question are followers of El-ron and have those things nearby? But those Heaven’s Gate dudes would be okay since they could just lift their feet up and waggle their white Nikes side to side like the dingle dangle scarecrow.


Pastafarians? What would the flying spaghetti monster do? I suppose just holding up a handful of cooked spaghetti and waving that around. Of course, you’d have to take it with you. Finding a source of cooked pasta that’s readily to hand when you stumble into a vampire’s lair would be most difficult.

The only other option would be to dress in full vestments of pirate regalia before entering the darkened demesne and shouting incoherant ramblings about global warming being linked to the dearth of piratical activity.

Left: The full religious garb that is for the true devotee of FSM

Arr, that be the ticket me hearties.

Though explaining yourself to the cops afterwards might be a tad difficult.


Monday, May 15, 2006

Does Beaconsfield remind anyone else of this classic Simpson's exchange?

(From the episode where Bart fakes a young boy named Timmy O'Toole being trapped down a well)

Homer: That Timmy is a real hero!
Lisa: How do you mean, Dad?
Homer: Well, he fell down a well, and... he can't get out.
Lisa: How does that make him a hero?
Homer: Well, that's more than you did!

Sunday, May 14, 2006

Why SNL rules

I was watching the SNL Best of Dan Ackroyd. This is one of the skits. From the Weekend Update from the 70's. Why SNL was never shown free to air here in Oz is beyond me. SNL rules!

Dan Aykroyd: I'm station manager Dan Akroyd. During the past few weeks in Los Angeles, actor Lee Marvin and his former live-in companion Michelle Triola Marvin have been in court to settle her claim that he owes her half his income from the six years they lived together. That is the subject of tonight's Point-Counterpoint. Jane will take the pro-Michelle Marvin point, while I will take the anti-Michelle Triola counterpoint. Jane?

Jane Curtin: Dan, times change and so does the nature of relationships. People are reluctant to get married these days and looking at divorce statistics, who can blame them. But the lack of a piece of paper does not neccessarily mean a lack of a total commitment. A woman is this modern-day relationship may well give up all her personal pursuits, as Michelle Marvin claims she did, to give her full support to her man's career. And Michelle Marvin is just asking that the courts recognize that reality. Dan, there's an old saying: "Behind every successful man there's a woman." A loving, giving, caring woman. But you wouldn't know about that, Dan, because there's no old saying about what's behind a miserable failure.

Dan Aykroyd: Jane, you ignorant slut. Bagged-out, dried-up, slunken meat like you and Michelle Triola know the rules. If you want a contract, sign on the dotted line. Oh, but let's all shed a tear for poor Michelle Triola. There was only testimony that she had sexual intercourse over forty times with another man while living with actor Lee Marvin. But I suppose that sort of fashionable promiscuting means nothing to you, Jane, who hops from bed to bed with the frequency of a cheap ham radio. But hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn, and Michelle Triola, like a screeching, squealing, reptatious swamp sow is after actor Lee Marvin's last three million dollars. I guess what you and Michelle are saying is that when you're on your backs, the meter is running. Well, please spare us, gals, and tell us the rate's at the top. Then we can choose which two bit tarts and bargain basement sluts to shack up with.

Jane Curtin: That's the news. Good night, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

(sourced from here)

Why I wear women's PJs

Yep, that's right, I do. No, not fancy 'lingery' with push up this and crotchless that. No, I buy sensible flannel types from Big W. Yes, some of them have teddy bears, kittens, and shit on them. And I still get them.

So why? Why HM? Why the women's night duds?

Well - I will tell you. Two words.

Cock Hole

For some fucking reason men's PJ makers feel the need to have a slit in the front for the old fella to flop out of. Presumably the manufacturers feel that we'd spend several sleep fuzzed seconds at 3 am fishing around and trying to poke it through the hole for some urinatory action instead of simply pulling down the waistband and letting fly.

Well, not me. I hate the fucking cock hole. And I hate it because it means if you're in PJs and delivered food is coming or a friend drops past late at night, it means you have to change or put something over it. This way, thanks to my sown up camel neck PJs I can float free to the door knowing that when I answer it I won't have my personal windsock telling me which way the breeze is blowing.

Women's PJ bottoms. They rawk.

But not the tops. They suck.

For mah main man...

Thursday, May 11, 2006

Beazo kicked arse

I watched his budget reply. I'm probably in the 1% of people who did.

I don't care what you think about him. But he can orate like few else in parliament. His riposte?

The government gets an extra 120 billion out of the resource boom. So where is it invested? It's not.

It's frittered away by the Libs on vote buying exercises.

Stick it in skills and national infrastructure. And cancel the 700 page work relations laws that got jammed down our throats.

Go Kimmy !

Laura Norder

All parties push Laura Norder (the Crikey term for Law and Order). The state ALP parties do it, with their Coalition opponents shrilly trying to ante them up. This despite crime rates falling, as I understand it.

Fear is a palpable tool to use. And all parties use it. The Greens use it on the environment. The Federal Liberals use it on Terrorism. The State ALP use it on Laura Norder.

Except the State Libs in NSW are seeking the trumph the Iemma government with their 'mandatory life sentence for anyone who kills a cop' bill.

See the SMH story here

Me, I think I share the reservations that Debus the NSW AG listed. Specifically with no incentive to plead guilty, those who kill a cop will want to go to trial - increasing the number of cases in the system. And with those trials, juries will be under pressure to acquit when reasonable doubt sets in, because if there is hesitation the idea of sending someone down for Life life will weigh heavily upon them. This is no idle speculation. The gang rape laws they bought in likewise placed near life penalties on people. Gang rape is despicable there is no doubt. But - give an offender the same term for murder, well, dead victims tell no tales. So why take the risk letting them live?

Why not risk shooting your way out of the bank, with a hostage shield because you shot that constable who challenged you on the way out in the head and he's likely dead?


The other issue too is life. What value is a life? Is a life more value because the person who had it wore blue and enforced the law? Yes they serve and protect, and put their lives on the line. So do firemen, and soldiers, and ambos in some circumstances. What about teachers? If a teacher is killed should the killer get life? What about a rent-a-cop who defended their building? Life life for those killers too?

I don't like this idea. And I have friends who are cops, so it's not like I don't know the pressure they are under, and the risks they face.

But sentences vary because judges use sentencing to fit the crime. They factor in things like extenuating circumstances when they bring down judgements. They have to balance the needs of the law, the respect to the victims, the role the offender played. Tie their hands and it leads to unfair judgements. Because it does not allow the judge to actually make a judgement.

Consider a domestic. Drunken fuckwit gets a hold of a shottie and threatens his wife with it. Doesn't realise it's loaded. She runs out and he chases her, just as two cops responding come up the path. She goes left, he trips, pulls the trigger, the cop is struck and he's dead. Does the fuckwit deserve life life? It's his word that he didn't know it was loaded. It's his word that he wasn't aiming for the cop.

Dickhead teenager fleeing in a stolen car, swerves around a corner and T-bars a cop car that had been responding to the car chase. Cop dies. The teen is 18 and can be charged as an adult. He get life life for that?

As for Constable Carty, a policeman slain whose parents back Debnam's bill, this is what happened to him.

Constable Carty died after being attacked in the car park of the Cambridge Tavern, Fairfield, in the early hours of April 18, 1997. The Constable was born in 1971 and was sworn in as a Probationary Constable in August, 1994.

The 25-year-old had been out with other off-duty police after finishing his midnight shift.

When he was leaving the tavern he was confronted by a group of men who fatally stabbed him in the chest and then kicked, punched and stomped on him as he lay dying on the ground.

Gilbert Adam was found guilty of murder and sentenced to a maximum 28 years' jail.

His co-accused, brother Richard Adam, successfully appealed a sentence for inflicting grievous bodily harm and walked free. Amier Yaco, James George and Eshmail Esha were acquitted for their alleged parts in the attack. Edward Esho was sentenced to a maximum six years and eight months and Thamier Sako was given a maximum five years' jail for inflicting grievous bodily harm. At the time the court was told Esho had been "chipped" by Constable Carty earlier in the evening and he later confronted the officer with two other men and incited the violence.


David Carty is survived by his mother Lorraine, his father John and siblings Paul and Janine.


It's very sad what happened to him. Very. I feel for his family. But he wasn't on duty when he died. Sure, the guys who confronted him knew he was a cop when they did him over. And knew he wasn't armed when they did. But even if this law had been in place, would they really have not done this because of the Life life provision? Being low impulse control fuckheads likely pissed, stoned, and armed would they have even thought about the repercussions? Does this mean they should get Life life because earlier that day Carty had been a policeman that "chipped" them? What if Carty had been a blue collar worker that had got a bit argy with them earlier that day when they pulled in front of him instead? Would that have made the loss of his life lesser just because he wasn't a cop?

These guys were bullies and thugs. And let's not forget the guy who killed Carty got 28 years. It's not like he wasn't punished.

I guess at the end of the day, when it comes to law and order, we need to know what we want in our penal system. Do we primarially punish or try and rehabilitate? We try to do both it seems, but the trouble is sound bites are a lot sexier when it's 'Life means life for cop killers' for voters than 'spending six point two million dollars on job skills programs will likely cut reoffender rates by 42% according to a detailed study.' After-all there's no votes in prisoners. They lose their right to vote if they do more than two years I believe.

Prison is no gay paree. It's not a holiday camp. It's a horrible place where we send people to sit and vegetate then release back into society with few skills or means to cope with being a normal person.

And surely the people who know what is best as far as time to be served, and how, are the people intimately familiar with the process? And that would be judges?

I think so.

Gitmo3

And the risk of starting another blog smack down I noticed this lovely little gem in the paper today. The UK Attorney General, who unlike the Grey Phantom worries about civil liberties of his people, slammed Gitmo as being unacceptable.

See the article here; guantanamo-unacceptable

Naturally the press asked for Howard's opinion. Here's his; see here

Howard of course disagrees. And well he should. Our relationship is different with the US. We, unlike the UK, can't afford to disagree. Not that Howard would, he has of course outright said Hicks was a danger given he had once fought for the Taliban. Even if that wasn't actually illegal under Australian laws at the time.

He does have one point. If Gitmo closes, what happens to those within. Howard seems to think they'd all be freed and be a danger for the world. And you know what, for some of those people, he may be right.

But I do note that of the 410 people in Gitmo, only 10 have been charged with crimes as per their Enemy Combatant status. Sure some of that is people trying to challenge the laws that are being used to hold them and causing delay. But some of that also is likely the US simply stalling because it knows that even up against a commission they stacked with the most likely judges to throw the book at them, as lawyers - even ones in uniform - they'd have their reservations too.

So, I guess the issue is this. Factoring in challenges to the laws used to hold them which cause delays. If these people have committed crimes in the field of battle, why have they not been charged? After-all Hicks has been charged, and according to Howard he too is challenging the commission's ability to try him. So if that's the case, that implies the US could in fact charge the other 400 odd too, even if they are challenging it.

But then, they'd have to hope the charges stick or they'd look quite the fool in the international world.

Probably then why they have not charged them...

Job Interview

In addition to finishing my assignment (which I shot off to the tutor mid monday morning), this week I had a series of job interviews. I had the second one today, and the third one sometime soon (they'll call me if I made it through today).

I think I did okay. But the one negative thing happened was that on my way out of the meeting, one of the panelists came out from another branching corridor and we didn't see each other. I ended up power slamming him into the wall. He kind of slipped along the slick plastered surface scrabbling for a hold and luckily he managed not to fall over.

He was nice about it. But I still can't help but think I lost points ...

Sunday, May 07, 2006

Take that you dumb squirrel

I've been procrastinating all weekend. My uni talk went well, but it was worth a grand total of 0 marks. It's actually the assignment that comes out that which is important. It's due Wednesday. Historically I am very bad at getting things in on time. I think on balance I have been late with over 90% of my assignments in my life. In fact, I once pulled an all nighter where if I did not have it in the box by X date at 9 am on Monday morning, I would be failed incomplete in the course. I got it in at 8.57 am. I had to run the fucker in, with my little fat bod wheezing away in early morning sunshine with my wife's dad's 1960's fireman's raincoat flapping in the wind.

Here's some of the stuff I did instead of my assignment.

- Played Baldurs Gate, even though I have played it about 20 times before. Always play half elven fighter / mage / thieves too (well, the last several times).
- Played Freecell. Lots and lots of Freecell.
- Ordered four people's worth of Chinese food and ate it over two days for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Actually whenever the wife's away I do that ... despite the encore performance it has on my stomach.
- Visited friends
- Read the paper
- Watched TV
- Washing (it's amazing how much washing you can get done when you have an assignment)
- Watched 'The Constant Gardner' (awesome), 'Horseplay' (hilarious), and 'The Hard Word' (excellent Oz crime drama).
- Went for a walk in the grizzling rain
- Avoided the blog 'cause I was too irritated to come here and not be a prick to people that visit (sorry people that visit).

At 6pm this evening I opened word and typed in my fateful header. Then I started. I'd done a shit load of reading for this - I figure about 20 odd hours all up. I had 35 pages of notes (mostly cut and paste stuff - a large amount from wiki). So I figured I'd just write it, from scratch, and stick the references in later.

To my surprise, mission accomplished. It took about 50 minutes to get the 2.2k words I got up (it's 1.5 to 3k). That was at 6.50 pm.

I have just spent the last four hours referencing and editing the thing.

Now I'm doing the biog. I fucking hate writing the biog. Especially getting the format right, and web references correct.

I feel good about it, but my tutor is a harsh task mistress who admitted that she'd given her highest mark ever just the other day, 19/20. Not sure I like a marking scale where generally the top 10% is shaved off automatically, but we live in interesting times as the Chinese proverb says, so it's probably fair enough.

So to all you other study lads out there, good luck with yer papers. My next one starts … now.

That will teach me to select near back to back tutorial presentation weeks.

Saturday, May 06, 2006

When f___d up things happen to innocent people

Sophie Delezio, recovering victim of a doddering old dude that ploughed his car into her pre-school a couple of years ago, got struck by a car last night and thrown 18 metres. She's on life support, again. She's already missing bits of her body, and what's left is a mass of scar tissue. Now this.

It just makes you rail at the unfairness of the world when a poor child like this has to go through this crap again.

Thoughts are with her loved ones. I hope if she has to go, she goes peacefully. But if she fights to stay then her fight is as pain free as it can be.

See the SMH story here

Stop Press; Bin Laden seen near Kindergarten with lollypops

In a breaking development Osma Bin Laden, nortorious jihadist, was seen near a kindergarten armed with lollypops in a likely attempt to induce a small child to follow him to his beat up camel.

'I couldn't believe it,' said a manager. 'There he was crooning koranic prayers and waving a lollypop around.'

The terrorist leader was chased off with a broom and seen to run to the camel that was covered in pornography of a 'dubious nature'.

'Thank god we got tracking devices implanted,' said the manager, pointing at the children. 'Now they'll always be safe. If they ever go missing why the government will simply be able to hunt them down.'

Bin Laden is rumoured to have returned to his rocky spider cave to plot more child abductions and/or jihadist activity.

'You know the best thing that ever happened for Jihad was the US invasion of Iraq,' said Bin Laden wistfully on a recent video message. 'I just can't wait to see what they do with Iran. And the irony is - they're a completely different branch of Islam that I despise ! How awesome is that!'

Bin Laden then did a merry jig, but it was a not a super merry jig because Harrangueman was yet to have children that he could kidnap and fiddle with as he organised for a plane load of terrorists to fly into a building he's in.

Musing on what it takes to protect your own

Being in government is never easy. Seriously. You have to put yourself through a public and media wringer, and put up with strident carping knuckles in blogland - people like me - who think nothing of spending childless evenings hunting down speeches where they find contradictions and flat out unpleasant statements to post on up.

Being in government also means hard decisions need to be made. And the hardest decision to make is how to protect your people from attack. It's the primary role of government. Well one of them. And when you have to protect your people you have to judge what you're willing to do in order to do that, and what sacrifices you make for the health of your society while doing so.

For example

Do you allow torture of suspects?
Do you allow suspects not yet in your custody be routed past a third country that does allow torture?
Do you detain people without charge or under a legal aberation on the off chance they might be a jihadist?
Do you invade another country without sanction from the United Nations?
Do you foster a religious conflict and piss off all your long term allies?
Do you bring in laws that curtail basic freedoms in your own country on the small chance there are terrorists amongst us?
Or make sure pederasts that finish their sentence can be detained for as long as you want?


If you do all that you might, might in the short term better protect your people. But at what cost to society? At what cost to our personal freedoms?

Me? I think that bunging someone in a cell for two weeks without charge then sticking a tracking device on them, again without charge, or being in Pakistan and seeing someone beat up and intervening then being caught, passed to the Americans, flown to a third country, tortured, then taken to a permanent lease hold that doesn't count as a country and kept without charge for several years is too great a price to pay to reduce a very small chance to an even smaller chance.

But hey once I have kids I may change my opinion. After-all this country is likely swarming with pederast jihadists as we speak.

I'm off to beat the bushes of my house to flush the little bastards out.

Toodles.

By the way, in case you're wondering, the last terrorist attack we had on Australian soil was the Hilton bombing in 1978. Sure, we have a couple people in jail for attempted activities here since then, not to mention about 30 odd people facing the courts right now on associated charges.

But of course I should stress that those people facing the courts are in fact innocent until the court finds them otherwise.

Gee lucky they're in Australia and not elsewhere...

Friday, May 05, 2006

Gitmo2

It seems there are some right of centre bloggers out there with the opinion that human rights aren't worth a damn if there is a 0.000000000087% chance you will be injured in a terrorist blast or possibly at risk from a pederast who has done their time. Or even a pederast with a bomb.

Frightening.

Curious at the legal status of Gitmo I went trawling on the web.

Here's the UK judgement on Gitmo in regards to UK nationals held in detention - see here

It lists the US claims as to the how and why of enemy combatants, as well as the UK legal assessment.

I found this bit interesting.

"What appears to us to be objectionable is that Mr Abbasi [a UK detainee] should be subject to indefinite detention in territory over which the United States has exclusive control with no opportunity to challenge the legitimacy of his detention before any court or tribunal. It is important to record that the position may change when the appellate courts in the United States consider the matter [It didn't - HM]. The question for us is what attitude should the courts in England take pending review by the appellate courts in the United States, to a detention of a British Citizen the legality of which rests (so the decisions of the United States Courts so far suggest) solely on the dictate of the United States Government, and, unlike that of United States' citizens, is said to be immune from review in any court or independent forum."

You see, Gitmo does not qualify as US soil, even though the US have it on a permanent lease from Cuba. The arrangement was made however with old Cuba - the one without Castro. Castro can't kick them out apparently - as long as the yanks pay the $4000 annual fee they stay. Even though he collected the check just once (which the US says counts as an agreement - hah hah beardo - stick that up your olive drab fatigues).

So because of this those in Gitmo's jails are not on US soil and therefore aren't entitled to Habeas Corpus - "or a legal proceeding in which an individual held in custody can challenge the propriety of that custody under the law."

The US has used legal trickery to supress the rights of people it not only took 'on the battlefield' but combatants sold to the US by agents in Pakistan and elsewhere (ie not taken on the field of battle). Unless of course 'the field of battle' now extends to the entire globe forever - well - as long as there is terrorism at any rate.

So there you have it. Banged up at the 'President's Pleasure', in Gitmo, which even though it has thousands of marines on it, does not count as the US because it's leased territory. A fact not unnoticed by the law courts in the UK; "On the face of it we find surprising the proposition that the writ of the United States courts does not run in respect of individuals held by the government on territory that the United States holds as lessee under a long term treaty."

So there you have it. Gitmo, morally wrong, legally suspect at best, illegal according to international law in all likelihood. At least, as far as much of the world legal opinion has it at any rate from what I can tell.

But then, what do we expect from the Bush administration? Their AG is the guy who came up with the infamous 'it's not torture unless it threatens organ failure' finding.

Nice bunch of fellow travellers these pro-gitmo bloggers run with. They must be very proud.

When knowing too much is bad for you

As a champion member of the IBS brigade, I can't use codeine. Which is a shit. Or rather because it stops shit. It's a drug that causes constipation - which is the Aussie brand of IBS to which I adhere.

So my doctor put me on some other pain killer, which is prescrption only. I take it sparingly, because taking pain killers everyday is a sure fire way for bad things to happen. But I rely on it for the bad days, the really bad days when it feels like someone stitched into your gut a large brass corkscrew and someone is turning it to loop your entrails on the drill bit.

Curious I decided to scope the drug out on wiki. What I found was this. In large doses the drug causes ... constipation. Taking mass doses will cause your colon to explode and ... the kicker ... the pain relief provided is no better than asprin.

So basically the soothing panic ebbing effect I had of taking these, of saying to myself 'thank god, I can feel it working', is now severely undercut by the fact that I now know the pain relief effect is no better than asprin. Which is a weak ass drug for pain relief in my experience.

Needless to say. Pissed off at myself for finding that out.

Other classic 'too much info' I have learned.

Just how easy it is to fuck up a country's infrastructure by targeting certain key elements in power, food, and medical supply chains (thank-you graduate studies).

Santa was my mum

What cats do in your kitchen after you go to sleep

That dogs will eat out a pooey nappy

That some of your cherished goals in life, or wants, will never, ever be fulfilled.

That alcohol / caffeine / fat / high sugar food will give me a raging case of the stomach cramps

And the exact process used to slaughter and prepare a chicken on a mass scale.

Thursday, May 04, 2006

Sucked in MoFo
























Zacarias Moussaoui gets life imprisonment.


Kudos to the jury that did not go down the 'eye for an eye' path, which IMHO demeans all those involved. That Zacarias is a mentally ill fuck knuckle there is no doubt. He joined a plot of evil designed to kill others in the mistaken belief that civilian murder equates to geo-political strategic manuever by non state actors. I hope that in his time in prison he heals his mind, and that he comes to understand that he was part of a plan that unleashed a wave of death on the world. Not just in S11, but in Iraq as well.

See the wiki here

A blast from the past from Crikey

Crikey quoted Edmond Barton's words on the infamous Immigration Control Act (aka White Australia Policy) that was bought in during our first year with a federal parliament.

"The doctrine of the equality of man was never intended to apply to the equality of the Englishman and Chinaman. There is a deep-set difference, and we see no prospect and no promise of its ever being effaced. Nothing in this world can put these two races upon an equality. Nothing we can do by cultivation, by refinement, or by anything else will make some races equal to others."

That's some nice work Mr B.

It's nice we've come a long way since then, but as Crikey pointed out this new 'citizens test' that Andrew Robb is considering smacks a bit of the original WAP test; which was a '50 words of any European language or you're out' dictation. And if the non whitey could actually understand that language, the test overseer could simply choose another until they couldn't. Obviously this test won't ever be as bad as this one, but still, it seems dodgy.

Frankly I don't like this test idea. I think it's designed to stop things like family reunion or people marrying non English speakers. I think it's mean spirited. And I think it panders to the hard right in this country. A test a citizen does not make. It comes from the heart, not from a multiple choice exam.

Just on a point of 'Modernity'. I've noticed that some people out in blog land feel things like human rights, such as 'not being detained without trial' is a 'modern' invention and like to point out that in the good old past people could be enslaved or killed instead.

I'm not sure what their point is on this. That because it's a 'modern' concept somehow people shouldn't expect to be able to access these rights at all times?

Well to those of you who think this way, take a gander at what fucked up racist crap that was considered the norm by any free thinking white man back then. Should we ever go back to that? Of course not. And that goes for all the rest of the basic norms of human rights we have fought, and some of us fucking died for.

Just because they are 'modern' does not make them any less valid, or any less moral. If anything it makes it more. Because history, like this, tells us how bad it was, and how we should never ever go back to the days of cork lined cellars where secret police work suspects over with rubber hoses, or the value of a person is determined not by their character but the colour of their skin or the religion they follow.

Stupid Trivial Pursuit

I remember playing an old edition of TP dating back to the 80's that, being an 80's game, was chock'o'brim with pop culture references.

One of such pop culture questions being about Dungeons and Dragons. It was under the Orange question. For hobbies.

Q: What's the favourite weapon of an evil fighter?

A: A sword

What the fu..? A sword is it? How the fuck did they extrapolate that? From a boxed 'Evil Fighter' action figure? Rang up Gary Gygax and said 'Hey Gazzer, evil fighters, yeah, yeah, so Gazzer, what's their favourite weapon? ... yeah I know, money hand over fist mate - don't sell your shares mate ... yeah ... don't want to be booted out of your own company trust me... so the weapon? A sword eh? Okay then, thanks.'

Bull twang. Here's some just some of the weapons evil fighters have used over the years.

A big fuck off two handed sword
A long sword
A sap
A garrotte
A whip - with barbs on it - and on the barbs tiny engraved images of Edvard Munch's The Scream
A trident
A heavy mace
A quarter staff
Their fucking hands and feet
Oil (Yes)
Poison (Yes)

See? Sure they use swords, but not exclusively. There's no meeting of all the evil fighters where they take a vote then split into weapon using factions where they battle it out in darkened alleys wearing two toed boots until 'there can be only one' Highlander style.

Left: The board of fun. Harrangueman is a TP Nazi. Do not play with him. He makes it less fun.

Yes, I am aware that the weapons they used in Highlander were in fact swords. Very nice swords. Katanas, Claymores, Scimitars, Broadswords. All tasty swordy goodness. Were some of them evil fighters? Well, yes, the Kurgan. He was pretty evil. I think he ate kittens - or raped them. And yes he used a sword because the only way to kill and immortal I believe was total body destruction or severing the head. So acceptable in this case.


What if immortals could only be killed by a bludgeon attack to the back of the skull eh? Like baby seals in Canada eh? Then Immortals would be walking around with lead filled pool cues, heavy torches, and tyre irons. Ok, not that sexy. So a tick in the box for the sword column there.

But back to 'Evil Fighters' = 'Swords'. Stupid question. In fact, as I recall I said it was a stupid question and got them to redraw the card.

The redraw was about golf ...

Fucking trivial pursuit !!!

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Stephen Colbert Vs Bush

This is from the recent Whitehouse Correspondants dinner. It's a kind of annual roast of the President. He makes fun of himself, then someone makes fun of him.

Colbert, formerly of the Daily Show, and with now his own mockupundit program following the Daily Show, got the gig.

Apparently Bush was not amused. Someone forgot to tell Colbert you weren't supposed to be mean, just tease nicely.

I am so glad he did not.

Transcript taken from the Daily Kos. You can find it here. For the movie of Colbert in action see here.

STEPHEN COLBERT: Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Before I begin, I've been asked to make an announcement. Whoever parked 14 black bulletproof S.U.V.'s out front, could you please move them? They are blocking in 14 other black bulletproof S.U.V.'s and they need to get out.

Wow. Wow, what an honor. The White House correspondents' dinner. To actually sit here, at the same table with my hero, George W. Bush, to be this close to the man. I feel like I'm dreaming. Somebody pinch me. You know what? I'm a pretty sound sleeper -- that may not be enough. Somebody shoot me in the face. Is he really not here tonight? Dammit. The one guy who could have helped.

By the way, before I get started, if anybody needs anything else at their tables, just speak slowly and clearly into your table numbers. Somebody from the NSA will be right over with a cocktail. Mark Smith, ladies and gentlemen of the press corps, Madame First Lady, Mr. President, my name is Stephen Colbert and tonight it's my privilege to celebrate this president. We're not so different, he and I. We get it. We're not brainiacs on the nerd patrol. We're not members of the factinista. We go straight from the gut, right sir? That's where the truth lies, right down here in the gut. Do you know you have more nerve endings in your gut than you have in your head? You can look it up. I know some of you are going to say "I did look it up, and that's not true." That's 'cause you looked it up in a book.

Next time, look it up in your gut. I did. My gut tells me that's how our nervous system works. Every night on my show, the Colbert Report, I speak straight from the gut, OK? I give people the truth, unfiltered by rational argument. I call it the "No Fact Zone." Fox News, I hold a copyright on that term.

I'm a simple man with a simple mind. I hold a simple set of beliefs that I live by. Number one, I believe in America. I believe it exists. My gut tells me I live there. I feel that it extends from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and I strongly believe it has 50 states. And I cannot wait to see how the Washington Post spins that one tomorrow. I believe in democracy. I believe democracy is our greatest export. At least until China figures out a way to stamp it out of plastic for three cents a unit.

In fact, Ambassador Zhou Wenzhong, welcome. Your great country makes our Happy Meals possible. I said it's a celebration. I believe the government that governs best is the government that governs least. And by these standards, we have set up a fabulous government in Iraq.

I believe in pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps. I believe it is possible -- I saw this guy do it once in Cirque du Soleil. It was magical. And though I am a committed Christian, I believe that everyone has the right to their own religion, be you Hindu, Jewish or Muslim. I believe there are infinite paths to accepting Jesus Christ as your personal savior.

Ladies and gentlemen, I believe it's yogurt. But I refuse to believe it's not butter. Most of all, I believe in this president.

Now, I know there are some polls out there saying this man has a 32% approval rating. But guys like us, we don't pay attention to the polls. We know that polls are just a collection of statistics that reflect what people are thinking in "reality." And reality has a well-known liberal bias.

So, Mr. President, please, pay no attention to the people that say the glass is half full. 32% means the glass -- it's important to set up your jokes properly, sir. Sir, pay no attention to the people who say the glass is half empty, because 32% means it's 2/3 empty. There's still some liquid in that glass is my point, but I wouldn't drink it. The last third is usually backwash. Okay, look, folks, my point is that I don't believe this is a low point in this presidency. I believe it is just a lull before a comeback.

I mean, it's like the movie "Rocky." All right. The president in this case is Rocky Balboa and Apollo Creed is -- everything else in the world. It's the tenth round. He's bloodied. His corner man, Mick, who in this case I guess would be the vice president, he's yelling, "Cut me, Dick, cut me!," and every time he falls everyone says, "Stay down! Stay down!" Does he stay down? No. Like Rocky, he gets back up, and in the end he -- actually, he loses in the first movie.

OK. Doesn't matter. The point is it is the heart-warming story of a man who was repeatedly punched in the face. So don't pay attention to the approval ratings that say 68% of Americans disapprove of the job this man is doing. I ask you this, does that not also logically mean that 68% approve of the job he's not doing? Think about it. I haven't.

I stand by this man. I stand by this man because he stands for things. Not only for things, he stands on things. Things like aircraft carriers and rubble and recently flooded city squares. And that sends a strong message, that no matter what happens to America, she will always rebound -- with the most powerfully staged photo ops in the world.

Now, there may be an energy crisis. This president has a very forward-thinking energy policy. Why do you think he's down on the ranch cutting that brush all the time? He's trying to create an alternative energy source. By 2008 we will have a mesquite-powered car!

And I just like the guy. He's a good joe. Obviously loves his wife, calls her his better half. And polls show America agrees. She's a true lady and a wonderful woman. But I just have one beef, ma'am.

I'm sorry, but this reading initiative. I'm sorry, I've never been a fan of books. I don't trust them. They're all fact, no heart. I mean, they're elitist, telling us what is or isn't true, or what did or didn't happen. Who's Britannica to tell me the Panama Canal was built in 1914? If I want to say it was built in 1941, that's my right as an American! I'm with the president, let history decide what did or did not happen.

The greatest thing about this man is he's steady. You know where he stands. He believes the same thing Wednesday that he believed on Monday, no matter what happened Tuesday. Events can change; this man's beliefs never will. As excited as I am to be here with the president, I am appalled to be surrounded by the liberal media that is destroying America, with the exception of Fox News. Fox News gives you both sides of every story: the president's side, and the vice president's side.

But the rest of you, what are you thinking, reporting on NSA wiretapping or secret prisons in eastern Europe? Those things are secret for a very important reason: they're super-depressing. And if that's your goal, well, misery accomplished. Over the last five years you people were so good -- over tax cuts, WMD intelligence, the effect of global warming. We Americans didn't want to know, and you had the courtesy not to try to find out. Those were good times, as far as we knew.

But, listen, let's review the rules. Here's how it works: the president makes decisions. He's the decider. The press secretary announces those decisions, and you people of the press type those decisions down. Make, announce, type. Just put 'em through a spell check and go home. Get to know your family again. Make love to your wife. Write that novel you got kicking around in your head. You know, the one about the intrepid Washington reporter with the courage to stand up to the administration. You know - fiction!

Because really, what incentive do these people have to answer your questions, after all? I mean, nothing satisfies you. Everybody asks for personnel changes. So the White House has personnel changes. Then you write, "Oh, they're just rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic." First of all, that is a terrible metaphor. This administration is not sinking. This administration is soaring. If anything, they are rearranging the deck chairs on the Hindenburg!

Now, it's not all bad guys out there. Some are heroes: Christopher Buckley, Jeff Sacks, Ken Burns, Bob Schieffer. They've all been on my show. By the way, Mr. President, thank you for agreeing to be on my show. I was just as shocked as everyone here is, I promise you. How's Tuesday for you? I've got Frank Rich, but we can bump him. And I mean bump him. I know a guy. Say the word.

See who we've got here tonight. General Moseley, Air Force Chief of Staff. General Peter Pace, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. They still support Rumsfeld. Right, you guys aren't retired yet, right? Right, they still support Rumsfeld.

Look, by the way, I've got a theory about how to handle these retired generals causing all this trouble: don't let them retire! Come on, we've got a stop-loss program; let's use it on these guys. I've seen Zinni and that crowd on Wolf Blitzer. If you're strong enough to go on one of those pundit shows, you can stand on a bank of computers and order men into battle. Come on.

Jesse Jackson is here, the Reverend. Haven't heard from the Reverend in a little while. I had him on the show. Very interesting and challenging interview. You can ask him anything, but he's going to say what he wants, at the pace that he wants. It's like boxing a glacier. Enjoy that metaphor, by the way, because your grandchildren will have no idea what a glacier is.

Justice Scalia is here. Welcome, sir. May I be the first to say, you look fantastic. How are you? [After each sentence, Colbert makes a hand gesture, an allusion to Scalia's recent use of an obscene Sicilian hand gesture in speaking to a reporter about Scalia's critics. Scalia is seen laughing hysterically.] Just talking some Sicilian with my paisan.

John McCain is here. John McCain, John McCain, what a maverick! Somebody find out what fork he used on his salad, because I guarantee you it wasn't a salad fork. This guy could have used a spoon! There's no predicting him. By the way, Senator McCain, it's so wonderful to see you coming back into the Republican fold. I have a summer house in South Carolina; look me up when you go to speak at Bob Jones University. So glad you've seen the light, sir.

Mayor Nagin! Mayor Nagin is here from New Orleans, the chocolate city! Yeah, give it up. Mayor Nagin, I'd like to welcome you to Washington, D.C., the chocolate city with a marshmallow center. And a graham cracker crust of corruption. It's a Mallomar, I guess is what I'm describing, a seasonal cookie.

Joe Wilson is here, Joe Wilson right down here in front, the most famous husband since Desi Arnaz. And of course he brought along his lovely wife Valerie Plame. Oh, my god! Oh, what have I said? [looks horrified] I am sorry, Mr. President, I meant to say he brought along his lovely wife Joe Wilson's wife. Patrick Fitzgerald is not here tonight? OK. Dodged a bullet.

And, of course, we can't forget the man of the hour, new press secretary, Tony Snow. Secret Service name, "Snow Job." Toughest job. What a hero! Took the second toughest job in government, next to, of course, the ambassador to Iraq.

Got some big shoes to fill, Tony. Big shoes to fill. Scott McClellan could say nothing like nobody else. McClellan, of course, eager to retire. Really felt like he needed to spend more time with Andrew Card's children. Mr. President, I wish you hadn't made the decision so quickly, sir.

I was vying for the job myself. I think I would have made a fabulous press secretary. I have nothing but contempt for these people. I know how to handle these clowns. In fact, sir, I brought along an audition tape and with your indulgence, I'd like to at least give it a shot. So, ladies and gentlemen, my press conference.

NOTE BY FREDERICK: The "audition tape" I have transcribed below is available here.

BEGINNING OF "AUDITION TAPE"

Colbert shows a video of a mock press conference. It opens with an empty podium. Colbert's head rises from behind the podium until Colbert is standing at the podium. He addresses the assembled Washington press corps.

COLBERT: I have a brief statement: the press is destroying America. OK, let's see who we've got here today.

COLBERT (acknowledging various reporters): Stretch! (David Gregory nods)

Sir Nerdlington! (reporter nods)

Sloppy Joe! (reporter nods)

Terry Lemon Moran Pie! (Terry Moran nods)

Oh, Doubting Thomas, always a pleasure. (Helen Thomas smiles)

And Suzanne Mal -- hello!!

(Suzanne Malveaux stares at Colbert, looking unhappy. Colbert mimics putting a phone to his ear and mouths "call me.")

REPORTER: Will the Vice President be available soon to answer all questions himself?

COLBERT: I've already addressed that question. You (pointing to another reporter).

REPORTER: Walter Cronkite, the noted CBS anchor, . . .

COLBERT (interrupting): Ah, no, he's the former CBS anchor. Katie Couric is the new anchor of the CBS Evening News. Well, well, how do you guys feel about that?

You, tousle-haired guy in the back. Are you happy about Katie Couric taking over the CBS Evening News?

DAN RATHER: No, sir, Mr. Colbert. Are you? (Laughter)

COLBERT: Boom! Oh, look, we woke David Gregory up. Question?

DAVID GREGORY: Did Karl Rove commit a crime?

COLBERT: I don't know. I'll ask him.

(Colbert turns to Rove) Karl, pay attention please! (Rove is seen drawing a heart with "Karl + Stephen" written on it.)

GREGORY: Do you stand by your statement from the fall of 2003 when you were asked specifically about Karl, and Elliott Abrams, and Scooter Libby, and you said "I've gone to each of those gentlemen, and they have told me that they are not involved in this." Do you stand by that statement?

COLBERT: Nah, I was just kidding!

GREGORY: No, you're not finishing. You're not saying anything! You stood at that podium and said . . .

COLBERT (interrupting): Ah, that's where you're wrong. New podium! Just had it delivered today. Get your facts straight, David.

GREGORY: This is ridiculous. The notion that you're going to stand before us after having commented with that level of detail and tell the people watching this that somehow you've decided not to talk. You've got to . . .

(Colbert is seen looking at three buttons on the podium, labeled "EJECT," "GANNON" and "VOLUME." He selects the "VOLUME" button and turns it. We see Gregory's lips continue moving, but can't hear any sound coming out.)

COLBERT: If I can't hear you, I can't answer your question. I'm sorry! I have to move on. Terry.

TERRY MORAN: After the investigation began, after the criminal investigation was underway, you said . . .

(Colbert presses a button on the podium and fast-forwards through most of Moran's question.)

MORAN (continuing): All of a sudden, you have respect for the sanctity of a criminal investigation?

COLBERT (seen playing with rubber ball, which he is bouncing off attached paddle): No, I never had any respect for the sanctity of a criminal investigation. Activist judges! Yes, Helen.

HELEN THOMAS: You're going to be sorry. (Laughter)

COLBERT (looking vastly amused, mockingly): What are you going to do, Helen, ask me for a recipe?

THOMAS: Your decision to invade Iraq has caused the deaths of thousands (Colbert's smile fades) of Americans and Iraqis, wounds of Americans and Iraqis for a lifetime.

COLBERT (interrupting): OK, hold on Helen, look . . .

THOMAS (continuing): Every reason given, publicly at least, has turned out not to be true. My question is why did you really want to go to war?

COLBERT (again interrupting): Helen, I'm going to stop you right there. (Thomas keeps talking.) That's enough! No! Sorry, Helen, I'm moving on. (Colbert tries to turn her volume off, but the knob falls off his controls.)

(Various reporters start shouting questions at Colbert.)

COLBERT (agitated): Guys, guys, please don't let Helen do this to what was a lovely day.

(Reporters keep shouting at him.)

COLBERT (putting his fingers over his ears and shouting in a high-pitched voice): Bllrrtt! No, no, no, no, no. I'm not listening to you!

Look what you did, Helen! I hate you!

(Helen Thomas glowers at Colbert.)

COLBERT (frantic): I'm out of here!

(Colbert pulls back the curtain behind him, desperately trying to flee. He says, "There is a wall here!" The press corps laughs. Colbert has difficulty finding a door from which to exit the room, echoing Bush's experience in China. He finally finds the door and hurries through it.)

COLBERT: It reeks in there! Ridiculous! I've never been so insulted in my life! Stupid job.

(Colbert continues walking away. We hear sinister-sounding music playing. We see Helen Thomas walking behind Colbert.)

(Colbert looks behind him, sees Thomas, and starts running.)

(Colbert trips over a roller skate, and yells "Condi!" We see a close-up of Helen Thomas' face, looking determined and angry. Colbert, increasingly panicked, gets up and continues running, running into a parking garage. He reaches an emergency call box, and yells into it.)

COLBERT: Oh, thank God. Help me!

ATTENDANT: What seems to be the problem, sir?

COLBERT: She won't stop asking why we invaded Iraq!

ATTENDANT: Hey, why did we invade Iraq?

COLBERT: NO!!! (runs toward his car)

(We see Helen Thomas, still walking toward him.)

(Colbert reaches his car, and fumblingly attempts to open it with his key. He is in such a desperate hurry that he fumbles with the keys and drops them. When he picks them up, he looks back and Helen is even closer. In his frantic rush, Colbert just can't get the keys into the lock.)

(Just as his anxiety is getting completely out of control he suddenly remembers that he has a keyless remote -- so he just pushes the button on the keychain and the car unlocks immediately with the usual double squeak noise. Colbert jumps in and locks the door, and continues to fumble trying to get the car started. He finally succeeds, and looks up to see Helen standing in front of the car, notepad in hand.)

COLBERT: NO!!! NO!!!

(Colbert puts the car into reverse and drives off, tires squealing. Thomas smiles.)

(Colbert is shown taking the shuttle from Washington, D.C. to New York. A car and driver are waiting for him at Penn Station. The uniformed man standing alongside the car opens the door and lets Colbert in.)

COLBERT: What a terrible trip, Danny. Take me home.

(The driver locks the doors, turns around, and says, "Buckle up, hon." IT'S HELEN THOMAS!!!)

COLBERT (horrified face pressed against car window): NO!!!

END OF "AUDITION TAPE"

STEPHEN COLBERT: Helen Thomas, ladies and gentlemen. Mr. Smith, members of the White House Correspondents Association, Madame First Lady, Mr. President, it's been a true honor. Thank you very much. Good night!