Archive for the ‘Humour’ Category

Wayne Carey is a watcher
March 28, 2008

Wayne Carey always managed to organise a place in a bedroom or bathroom where he could see himself performing, according to a former and occasional companion. Beware you watchers. Don’t look into your own eyes.

Men like New York Governor Eliot Spitzer mistake their wallet for their fly
March 14, 2008

Former New York Governor Eliot Spitzer is one of those poor bastards that missed out on real sex in his mad scramble for power. Real sex has nothing to do with money being paid in an attempt at satisfaction, although wealthy women occasionally mistake a man’s wealth for personality, power and good looks.

So it’s not entirely a philanderer’s fault if he mixes up his wallet and his fly. Women and men mistake the attraction of symbols for the reason that those copywriters who have pored over Freud (and Shakespeare, as Freud used his symbols to interpret dreams and desires) for meaningful symbols that will turn people into harvesting consumers, have managed to disguise sexual lust in ads for food, coffee, icecream, cars, weapons of mass destruction, and anything else you like to mention.

Still you’d expect a governor to know enough about sex to indulge it with some finesse and ultimate enjoyment. Sex for an hour with a paid companion is hardly anyones considered structure for a delightful evening. It’s more like a cookie monster hard at work on lingerie.

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George Bush senior forced from the Australian Embassy in Peking by Bill Green
March 10, 2008

I ripped a leather coat from the back of George Bush senior when he attempted to throw me out of the Australian Embassy in Peking (as it then was) in 1974. As he ordered me from the Australian Embassy I reached behind him, grasped the coat on either side of the vent and ripped it from him. The coat was an inferior “deer skin” coat, really pigskin, and the stitches were also weak. He had purchased the coat in China. I had also purchased one that day. We were in the crowded bar of the Embassy after a day at the Peking Trade Exhibition.

George was then the senior officer with what amounted to the China-America Liaison office that was created to win America permission for an Embassy in China. The Americans were piggy-backing on our Embassy, run by a young and terribly competent Stephen Fitzgerald.

The incident began when two trade exhibitors drank a little too much and thought I was a suitable candidate for verbal abuse because I was the press secretary to the Deputy Prime Minister, Dr Jim Cairns, and he didn’t attend the drinking session. “Your fuckin’ boss is a pink lefty aresehole,” seemed to be the best they could produce but it was yelled into my ear every few minutes. I chose to ignore them until one pushed me and fell over, as did his companion shortly after.

I repaired to the toilet off the upstairs foyer. On emerging I was approached by the Hong Kong Trade Commissioner and told that the Ambassador had asked me to leave the Embassy. I smiled at him. He had imagined shock, horror and a humiliating exit.

“Are you going?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

He waved to two embassy guards to remove me. They came towards me across the foyer and I ran at them to at least have some momentum. They fell down and as I descended to the bar again I grabbed an aboriginal spear from the wall of the stair well. On approaching the table where Stephen was drinking I asked him if he had asked me to leave the Embassy. “Certainly not,” he said.

Returning to the bar I was handed a drink by Greg Clarke, Murdoch’s man in Tokyo, who had flown in with us in the RAAF’s VIP plane. Within a moment an American declared himself the culprit (he had obviously prevailed on the Trade Commissioner) and demanded that I leave the Australian Embassy. “But you’re a fuckin’ American,” I said. “How can you demand I leave the Embassy.”

“You’re leaving,” he said. I grabbed his coat and ripped it from his body. People emerged from everywhere to hold us. I heard someone ask if something should be done. Apparently not because several other people had already fallen over, obviously dead drunk. I saw George Bush senior leaving the Embassy bar with friends. I didn’t think too much about it except a Trade bureaucrat insisted I pay for the coat (I believe he was a senior in Trade). Not having a cheque book I borrowed one from a colleague. Fortunately the cheque later bounced.

However, the night was far from over. Stephen declared the bar shut sometime later and Jim’s press entourage left to be driven back to the hotel. At the hotel I asked for my bag from the boot. The driver refused to open it (all drivers then were members of Chinese security) and I approached the boot that had no handle and I imagined it was a Chinese puzzle. I lifted the number plate but it came off in my hand. I kicked the bumper bar but it fell off. Things looked dire.

The driver began to remonstrate with me in an abusive tone. I tied his car aerials in knots and began to walk away. Greg Clarke told me I’d have to apologise because the driver had called for the PLA (they had replaced the Red Guard) I turned back and said, “Sorry, mate.” I headed to the hotel foyer as fast as my dignity would allow.

There are many other aspects to this story, some I covered in my novel, Compulsively Murdering Mao, (Hodders), but I found I had to write the story on my blog because I woke up laughing about it some weeks ago, and that was a change.

Several times I have attempted to sell this story but I discovered editors tend to run from it. I know I could have if I persevered but having begun a career as a novelist I was reluctant. Would it cloud my reputation? I needn’t have worried.

Sam should have been following my father’s advice on daily sex
March 6, 2008

Sam Newman should have taken my father’s advice. He told me that to keep prostate cancer at bay you should have daily sex. My father died at 92, without acknowledged prostate problems, but because he had jaw cancer, and he was frightened that the titanium replacement would buckle if he ate regular food. I know he ate regularly, on a daily basis in fact, but that didn’t save his jaw.

I ridiculed my father’s prostate theory and didn’t want to think about the daily sex he might be having until I received my inheritance of $678.80, exactly the same amount as my brother. Having lived the life of a rich man with beach houses, a superb art collection, and other indulgences (sounds like Sam) I imagined that I might receive enough to squander it on … something. I checked out my father’s finances and spoke to his friends.

Suddenly my respect for him was enormous. There were three women and he had given one an orchard, one a bus line and another a restaurant. To what age had he indulged himself? Well, the scene changed a little.There was a weekly cheque of $150 to Fashion Affair, a lingerie store, and a similar amount simply marked in the cheque butts as flowers. As he had never bought anyone flowers as far as I could remember, including my mother, and as I didn’t imagine him wearing women’s lingeries at 92, I surmised he had been avoiding prostate cancer up until the very last moment.

Sam you should have been doing better. I know I am.

Our banks turn into bank robbers
January 3, 2008

Our banks turned into bank robbers. This is how it happened. They invested in America in sub prime mortgages and lost a heap of money. They then began to react against this horrible situation by panicking and deciding to retrieve it from their customers here. The National Australia Bank had a record profit last year of  18 billion dollars, up ten percent on the previous year. They’re the first to put their interest rates up. I suppose that’s why they made so much money last year, they’re quick on the trigger.

Morally speaking if they’re going to claim money back from mortagees when they make a loss they should give some money back when they make a horrendously good profit.

What would happen if everyone reacted like them when they lost money? Well, they’d be more petulant robbers of banks. The logic would go something like this. Someone took my money so we’re going to take money from you, despite you having nothing to do with the loss.

Australia never had a place in its culture for adventure, romance or experimenting with different ideas
December 21, 2007

The evidence in the Hicks case spells the end of Australian understanding of romance, adventure, and the thrill of experimenting with new ideas. We never really did understand, for our present hollow culture is more of the cruel, bureaucratic and vengeful genre. Let’s not kid ourselves. The fading culture that we glorified came from the David Hickses and Jack Thomases of the nation who took to the sniff of war in 1914 for comradeship and adventure. It didn’t come from our imitative, educated and ambitious classes who sacrificed fun for doubtful status. Doubtful because in the swim to the top of the horrible pile it means servility to those nations we wrongfully regarded as our superiors. Look at our subsequent distorted perceptions. Menzies imagined the Queen as a romantic, sexualised image. Keating thought Menzies correct and being opportunistic working class ( which used to have a strong culture) placed his hand on her waist and was splapped on the wrist by the media. How unbelievably banal and pathetic. If she had responded in a knowing way Keating would have rogered her without hesitation, later receiving the offer of a knighthood. Keating was a bit too real for our sick bureaucratic nation.

And are we going to pay for the nasty, obsequious drivel that our department heads foist on our lazy politicians.

The Hicks case shows just how far we have deprived ourselves of our democratic rights and the rule of law. It’s not just Hicks who has to prove himself innocent of terrorist sympathies, and being a future danger, it’s all of us. Don’t think so? Just remember the environmental protesters who were arrested in the UK under such laws a few weeks ago.

And who may have beenthe role models for Hicks and Thomas in the thirties? Why, George Orwell and Arthur Koestler. They took the communist side in the Spanish civil war. Each of them were condemned to death and each were subject to a mock execution. Read terrorist for communist in that conflict. However they each saw the error of the side they had chosen and wrote revealing texts on it. Texts we still turn to for enlightenment.

THE CIA CENSOR THE NET
December 18, 2007

Following my suspicion that the CIA had censored my post on their torturers having sexual pleasure at the expense of their victims, a correspondent has contacted me with the figures published in a recent Harpers magazine. Since June 2004 Wikipedia has had 310 entries censored and re-written (edited) by the CIA.

I no longer suspect that I’m paranoid. And I was tested. My phone/computer line crashed the day the story appeared in the News Diary in The Age (edited by Suzanne Carbone) and during the evening the lights in the house fused out.

Each event had rational explanation. The phone line was torn from its socket when an extremely large truck (no one has seen one so large prior to this – evidence is that the line hadn’t previously been broken) rounded my corner and stripped the line from the lamp post.

I discovered that the lights had fused out because the lights in my wife’s new gallery (Shed 47, Talbot) was an overload when two freezers came on. See, simple explanations. No need to rush out to purchase dogs and other armaments.

We signed Kyoto after we executed the planet
December 3, 2007

Signing Kyoto now is like a governor signing a pardon after the prisoner has been executed. It’s too late to save the planet as we know it. According to a study commissioned by the Friends of the Earth and conducted by the Carbon Equity Project, the rise in temperature (consequently more carbon release) is sufficient to destroy most of the world’s coral reefs, including the Great Barrier Reef, and the destruction of the Arctic floating ice is considered inevitable, with dramatic consequences for the stability of the Greenland ice sheet, which is likely to begin irreversible melting at a 2C of warming.We have enough carbon dioxide and other gases in the atmosphere already to produce such a rise.

Arctic explorer and resarcher, Earl de Blonville ( see YouTube interview in which he says 2020, but yesterday said 2013 on more recent figure), says the latest figures mean that the ice sheet will have melted by 2013, and that means a sea rise of 7 metres.

For the figures go to the Friends of the Earth’s recent release on climate change, called Avoiding Catastrophe.

A cracked journo backs Gullible Garret and tries to shaft Bob
December 3, 2007

How fucking cracked is Paul Sheehan in the Sydney Morning Herald? Obviously he has a thing for Garret’s style of politics: sell out when you can. He sold out so publicily that Kevin Rudd gutted his environment ministry. But Sheehan is comparing Gullible Garret to Bob Brown, and his take is that Bob is the loser. Obviously Sheehan is regarded as a peer group leader among journalists, and that’s dangerous when government minders are looking for the influential that they can influence.

Here’s how it works. Press secretaries and political minders suddenly descend on an image maker and pour honey on his soul. Let’s play tennis; let’s do dinner; let’s party; and let us give you some secrets. There may even be a high-paying job for you and you can dress like us.How do I know this? I was a press secretary once and had to fight for Dr Jim Cairns against all the other minister minders. They said Jim wasn’t the reason everyone voted for the Labor Party in 72, it was for Gough. Problem was Gough wasn’t big on being anti-war until Jim convinced him (over eight years) and it was Jim who led the massive moratoriums in Melbourne and elsewhere. Everyone was out against him. The Liberal’s media minder boasted to the press they had something that would destroy Jim. They did. It was Junie Morosi. Meanwhile Labor in its honeymoon is wanting big favours from the media and they want to save Gullible, despite the fact that the leader destroyed him so openly.

Remember he lost Water and Climate Change. What else is there in his portfolio? Every environmental issue has those two things at its heart, although Rudd would deny it. What about the world’s leading pulp mill? Remember it’s going to spew dioxin into the sea and the air. No other “state of the art” pulp mill even uses dioxin. He wants Gullible in his ministry so he can argue for the mill again, although for Gullible it will be political suicide. Well, the mill does pollute sea water, maybe it has passed to the other portfolio.

Sheehan argues that Bob is shrill. Sorry, mate he is so cool he makes you look like a screeching Tasmanian Devil. And he’s been right about the planet for several decades and you, the media, have only woken up. Still the media was always ten years behind a new idea, just like academia. Oh, and the Labor Party just woke up as well, that’s why Gullible was given a gurnsey in the first place but Labor, like the Liberals, destroy for Party unity, just ask Julia. She’ll be destroyed by two portfolios because she will have so much work she’ll have no time to conspire on knife sharpening.

Treasurer Costello was told he was a lost dog and Slick Turnbull would replace him
November 25, 2007

Peter Costello was told he couldn’t do it. After a rehearsed and lengthy rallying speech on election night he appeared to walk away from the leadership of the Libs. Michelle Grattan says he was gutless and couldn’t stand the coming fight as leader. No, on the night he was certainly preparing the Party for his leadership. On and on he talked, as though he was still in government, attempting to give the Party his brand, until John Howard hit the screens. Costello went on talking but the failure had eclipsed him already. Those powerbrokers watching knew then he was a lost dog. They acted quickly and decisively. In his speech John Howard only gave Costello faint support as future leader, a far cry to his raving about him on previous occasions, so the change had already been mooted. A secret and restricted Party poll of Melbourne Club members had sliced through Costello’s capacity to lead. People actually knew who Malcolm Turnbull was and liked him. Costello has never been liked.

The power brokers knew generational change was required quickly and the gutless Costello, who never developed the fortitude to take on Howard, even when the PM was at his weakest, was told to walk. Slick Turnbull, who had the guts to tell Howard he was wanting a month ago, will be given the gurnsey for the others are tainted by Howard’s progressive lying stunts and showed themselves incapable of defying the crippled leader.

Perhaps the media should follow up ex-MP Stewart Fergus MacArthur’s siblings and nephews (all members of the Melbourne Club) – cousins of the Baillieus – for further comment.