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Silent Speaking



" A Conservative is someone who thinks that nothing should be done for the first time." - unknown



Updated: 2015-09-17T02:00:03.247+10:00

 



A Return to La Mancha

2010-04-19T23:06:54.418+10:00

Whether because of time constraints, laziness or disenchantment I fell away from blogging for a time. In my absence I spent a year in Scandinavia, I lived a nomadic Australian existence and I watched lovers come and go, but I always felt like I'd mount Rocinante, dig my heels into her withered flanks and ride once more.

And so it comes to this. My armour creaks and groans more than I had remembered. My sword - as rusty as I had remembered - is in hand. Poor squat Sancho has grudgingly agreed to be my squire. I, Don Quixote, will ride the golden plains of La Mancha once more.



Self Referencing Haiku

2006-10-05T10:10:40.220+10:00

Eat the word sandwich
The bread is five syllables
And the meat? Seven



Marx Weeps

2006-10-05T10:10:18.066+10:00

Traveling the halls of university today I happened upon a poster created by the Socialist Alliance, rallying support against the senseless slaughter occurring in Lebanon as a result of the Israeli military's actions.

The poster included the following statement: "US imperialism unleashes its attack dog in the middle east"

It must be a strange world that socialists live in, where lifeless nouns can unleash forces, canine or otherwise. I agree wholeheartedly with their sentiment; however their messaging needs some refining.



'Ticks and Leeches'

2006-10-05T10:09:55.503+10:00

I hate scalpers; they have music fans targeted for an ass fucking. They buy up all the tickets available for concerts - sometimes in quantities of up to 20 at a time - in a deliberate attempt to ensure the venue sells out, and then they sell those tickets on eBay for exorbitant prices. I've never purchased anything from eBay before, and that's for a good reason. I'm stubborn. I don't like being outbid.

I just paid $140.00 to see The Strokes.

Ps - I'm off to see TV on the radio tonight. It should be a good show, if their new album is anything by which to judge.



I wonder if anyone outside of Australia would understand the coolness that is Ratcat?

2006-10-05T10:09:28.776+10:00

Possibly not.

But every occupant of this troubled globe should know and love Big Audio Dynamite.



Must remember to get Yeah yeah yeahs tickets tomorrow!

2006-10-05T10:09:03.746+10:00

And also, tomorrow I'll tell you about yet another failed romantic (mis)adventure that I had on Thursday night.



Sleep, where for art thou?

2006-07-13T04:11:35.413+10:00

Look at the gawd damned time! Sleeping pills work on me like US styled democracy works in the Middle East. I'm thinking about crushing them up and mixing them in with my Milo.

Help?



"The problem with the left"

2006-07-12T18:54:17.453+10:00

Some Poondoodle over at group blog Larvatus Prodeo, a supposed Lefty, has written one of the stupidest posts I've ever read, about the apparent problems besieging the left:

"Don't bath for a few months and go on a demo about nucular (sic) power with paint dawbed (sic) signs and dogs on strings with the same old bollocky "2 4 6 8″ chants whilst bonging up a dooby and saving some whales."

When I read that paragraph for some strange reason images of corn fields filled with straw men came into my mind. I always love attempts to tar whole groups of people with simplistic stereotypes; but the least our straw man building quasi-leftist could do is get his terminology correct - how does one bong "up a dooby"? And, perhaps he’d be more engaged in nuclear issues if he discovered how to spell the word correctly…

Moving on to the next bit of dribble:

"I am as economically lefty as they come, and pretty bloody libertarian to boot. I care about people. I don't give a shit about:

Animals
Nuclear power if it's economically feasible
Global warming if there is no catastrophe"


See, the problem with the left is that the blogger in question doesn't share all the same beliefs and principles as those which some on the left espouse. An expectation of that ilk sounds more like right wing groupthink to me. That could be a problem for the left; or, it could be that our blogger has no fucking clue, which would be a major problem for him.

Okay, this is the last bit of dribble, I promise:

"I do care about:

Equity of rights and opportunities regardless of socioeconomic status, race, gender, any other label you can emboss on a strip of plastic that is bound to slice under your thumbnail when you peel the backing off. You know the drill, the higher taxes, more services kind of thing that we all know and love."


Well, whoopdeefuckingdoo – in a global warming scenario (and, by the way, isn’t the whole discussion about global warming centered on its catastrophic potential?) who will be the most likely to suffer? Could it be the small communities who rely on local ecosystems for their survival? Could it be the poor and the downwardly mobile? Sure you care about equality of rights and opportunities. Sure you care about people - just as long as they are washed and behave in a manner that conforms to your limited notion of respectability.

Me, I like to be clean. I like to smell nice. And, I don’t smoke as much dope as I used to. Taking a cursory examination of my leftist friends reveals that most of them are fairly similar to myself; but, that said, I don’t think for a second that cleanliness, attending a protest, or even smoking the occasional spliff invalidates a person’s belief structure – the only thing that should do that is the logic upon which their arguments are predicated.

And one last thing: how did women win universal suffrage? And that continuing fight for racial equality thing, how have inroads been made in that battle? Oh, and the workers, how did the workers manage to escape their Dickensian entrapments? Fuck me; it wasn’t through protests, was it?



"Once more into the breach dear friends"

2006-07-07T20:54:15.456+10:00

When Shakespeare wrote that he wasn't talking about heading into war. Nope, the great poet was talking about the prospect of putting in another weekend stint at Revolver.

(image)



America, Fuck Yeah!

2006-07-07T20:43:03.540+10:00

It's amazing watching Fox News's coverage of the 'London Bombings: A year on'. Americans interviewing other Americans about the terrible tragedy in London... I mean, they're doing a live shoot from England - the least they could do is rustle up a real live local. And the way that they are trying to insert the word terrorist into every little bit of dialogue, it's making me feel ill. The relationship between hard-line Islam and rightwing America can only be described as symbiotic. It is amazing to see two cultures so hatefully opposed to each other and yet so inextricably reliant upon one another.



If it's your first night on Noah's arc you have to fight

2006-07-07T03:18:15.316+10:00

I'm house-sitting at the moment and with the house come two golden retrievers and six cats (don't ask). The dogs were easy to make friends with but the cats have taken a little time. The most skittish of the tribe, an orange ruffian with the beginnings of cataracts in its eyes, is just starting to accept me. I've always had far more amicable relations with animals than I do with humans.

As for the house, that's another story. This house is like the one that Tyler and Cornelius (Rupert, Jack, etc.) occupy in Fight Club. It's like an old mans lungs - it fills with the moisture of the mountain air, and it rattles and wheezes with any change in temperature. In certain parts of the house I can see strips of daylight coming through the floorboards; those nice airy vents also let in the freezing cold air. The shower hadn't been used in some time; when I first turned its taps it vomited forth a Bombay-esque deluge.

All in all the house suits the mood I've been in for the last month or so.



It sucks to be disappointed

2006-07-04T02:10:08.166+10:00

It seems the great night that I had the other night with the new romantic interest was great only in the realm of my own imaginings. A phone call earlier on tonight shattered all such illusions.

I feel about as desirable as a bout of gastro right at this moment.



Music Tip

2006-07-01T17:00:18.070+10:00

I've been hearing this cracking good tune over the airwaves the last couple of weeks, and for some reason I've continually missed the name of both track and band when the DJ has announced it. Well, no more. I saw the video clip on rage last night and it's by a Canadian(?) band called Metric. The song is called 'Monster Hospital'. The lead singer recalls all the best elements of Chrissy Amphlett, but they rock out far more than the Divinyls ever did.

Check it out if you get the chance.



All About the Girrrrl

2006-07-01T00:07:17.846+10:00

Well, the good news is that I took our young blog-busting girl out last night and everything went well. Lips were locked; boots were knocked. The success of the venture is made all the more surprising because I'd always suspected that if someone were to read the disturbing thoughts rolling round inside this Quixotic cranium they'd run a mile.

But, I must include -

NOTE TO SELF: Your sense of humor has a current success rate of around 1 in 10* so the next time you're taking a girl out on the town you may want to hold back on the old comic relief until you're sure you're in with a chance.

* That figure may or may not be comprised of people that are faking laughter plus the criminally insane.



Can a slippery slope made up of the bodies of straw men actually be slippery?

2006-06-28T22:22:38.343+10:00

Is that the longest post title ever? Possibly.

And, all I'm going to do is link to another post.

There is a conservative columnist in Australia named Andrew Bolt. His arguments are ridiculous to the extent that reading them ends up being a side-splittingly comedic experience. In fact, if Bolt wasn’t writing for a decidedly Right-leaning newspaper, one could be excused for thinking him to be offering up some sort of deliberate political parody. In a recent column, he's made the 'slippery slope' argument, that allowing gays to marry will eventually lead budding polygamists to stake their claim.

Now, there is an antidote to Bolt's madness, and it's a blog called 'Boltwatch.' Boltwatch replied to Bolt's recent column with one of the funniest dissections of an argument that I've read in all Blogsylvania. What's funnier - the columnist in question reads Boltwatch and goes into paranoid paroxysms of fear when he realizes his disingenuous arguments have been revealed to the world in all their naked horror. He even attempts to respond to Boltwatch. Boltwatch's return of fire is something akin to the response I'd get if I tried to pass Roger Federer with one of my weak forehand shots on the tennis court.



The slap of palm on forehead

2006-06-28T03:19:29.320+10:00

I've thought about posting a couple of times. But every time I attempt to key some letters to form some words the correct sequencing eludes me. It is very difficult to write anything knowing that someone living outside of Blogsylvania* has penetrated its swirling mists and discovered this dusty little corner of net space. It's nobody's fault really (actually, it's my fault for leaving links between my real name and this site; I was a fucking rookie when I started blogging); I also suspect that others have been coming here... It's just a hunch. So, I'm going to extract a promise on Thursday night over drinks. I'm going to request that a certain someone not come back here. If that certain someone can entertain that request then I'll keep the faith and resume blogging as normal; if not, I'll have to shut down Quixote Enterprises and return in the form of another ancient literary character. I'm quite fond of blogging, so even if this space has to go there'll be another. I like the ritual of sending out this (sometimes) daily message in a bottle, and the wonderment that comes from seeing which foreign beach this jumble of awkward words has washed up upon. Time will tell, time will tell.

* I've come to detest the term R/L or whatever it is that people have come up with to describe themselves offline - you are all real people, aren't you? I'm not a lab rat caught in some bizarre experiment where the scientists watch me read blog posts written by super smart computer technology, am I?

Am I???

Possible posts for tomorrow:
- The place I'm currently living (you'll be horrified)
- Insomnia (once again, look at the time of this post)
- Sex (shattering some mysteries)




Sweet, Sweet Music

2006-06-24T02:48:57.863+10:00

The new Muse song is fucking hot. It's sleek, it's dark, and it's sexy. I love it when a band effortlessly changes tack, leaving me surprised and entranced.

And, I love that song by Tiga:

"As far as I go
As far as I know
I've always got
A place called home
I cross overseas
It's fine by me
'cause I'll never be
Far from home"



It just isn't happening

2006-06-22T02:58:24.496+10:00

I just watched Apocalypse Now (redux) and Deer Hunter back to back. This failure to sleep is starting to bug me.



Continuing on from yesterday

2006-06-22T00:09:41.890+10:00

Yeah, so I met this wonderful girl. She loves Russian history. I don't meet many girls with whom I can discuss Russian history. She is also damned attractive. But, as she told me three hours into our talk, she has a boyfriend. Now, she said "sort of boyfriend", but to me if you've been seeing someone for a year and a half then they're just a plain boyfriend.

She took down my number, and we've exchanged a text message or two. I won't, however, allow things to go any further than that. It's this damned conscience, see; it gets in the way all the time.

Maybe it isn't even a conscience. Maybe I've just been subjected to that hell in the past and, consequently, I have an acute awareness of what it feels like.



Up Late with Don Quixote

2006-06-21T04:26:42.883+10:00

I met the coolest girl at an underground warehouse party on Saturday night. We talked for about four hours. That time seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.

But there are complications, man, there are always complications.

And I have insomnia, as you can probably tell from the time of this post.

More details will come tomorrow.



Two words

2006-06-17T12:51:16.773+10:00

Fuck yeah!



Reason #459 Why Ann Coulter Wants to Eat Your First Born Child

2006-06-16T14:39:32.153+10:00

Ah, Ann Coulter, purveyor of hatred, crusher of souls, the world's been waiting for your new "book".

But little did we know that your depraved writings would merely be a crude assemblage of other people's sentence constructions. I guess, in this day and age, even pure hatred lacks originality.

Ann Coulter - bringing plagiarism to a bookstore near you.

Update: From PZ Meyers, Ann Coulter believes Darwin's theory of evolution is discredited science, "one step above scientology in scientific rigor," and the only reason that it's been allowed to continue being taught is because "liberals think evolution disproves God."

Funny Update 2: The Rude Pundit describes entering a bookstore to buy Ann Coulter's book:

"When the Rude Pundit purchased Coulter's "book," he went to an out of the way megastore where he could be anonymous. He asked for a paper bag so no one could see what he was carrying. He's been less discreet about buying lesbian porn mags. In fact, when he got it home, the Rude Pundit took the Coulter cover off and wrapped it in a copy of Chicks With Dicks. He'd rather people think that he jacks off to she-males than that he reads Ann Coulter."



A Reflection of Darkness

2006-06-15T01:47:49.263+10:00

I'm starting out upon the first few pages of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness and already I perceive it is to be one of the most beautifully written books that I've ever read.

It is a quarter to two in the morning. I can't sleep.



Playstation Giving Off Good Vibrations?

2006-06-13T23:28:12.183+10:00

This is both extremely progressive and enlightened or completely misogynistic. You be the judge.

And no, I wasn't searching for dirty stuff on the internet.



When Monday's comedown of yesteryear becomes a Wednesday, Thursday or Friday of this year

2006-06-12T01:12:27.800+10:00

I was going to write a post about my weekend. But it'd be pretty much the same post as you'd get to describe a hundred other such weekends. We're talking about a photocopy - picture after picture after picture of the same landscape. And as with all copies, the scene remains the same but the colors begin to fade.

As with the rat trapped down the well, I'm circling, circling, circling. With futilely pumping legs I'm treading that water with no hope of rescue. I'm damn tired.