The Dog's Tits
20 January 2007
the only way to get a leftist to care about individual rights is threaten to take some idiots' stash of Turkish Blond away.
From No Pasaran
OK, I'm all moved into my new home (a 2br unit), I finally got my home phone and DSL accounts connected (which proved to be a ridiculously long-winded process), so after a period of general laziness, here I am.
This site has been pretty much asleep for a long time now, but from now on I should be doing at least two updates a week, hopefully more.
Moving house is a pain in the ass. Christ, it's tedious. I'll be glad if I never see another brown cardboard box for as long as I live. It's worth noting that we didn't have much stuff to move either, and it still takes an eternity.
Our neighbours seem like decent folks, the place doesn't get too hot during summer days, there's plenty of light and lots of breeze.
It's a good locale for my cycling-to-health kick. With a 14km each-way commute to work, it's a perfect distance for a good bit of exercise without it taking too long.
Has Old Whiskers kicked the bucket yet? I wonder what that vapid airhead Jill Singer is thinking about Fidel's difficulties. After all, she's been telling us how bloody wonderful the Cuban healthcare system is:
Yeah baby, time to adopt Cuban healthcare. If we're lucky we too could have hospitals like this:
Cuban hospitals respect biodiversity. Animal life is revered, and patients are spared any spraying of toxic chemicals within the ER.
Rumours of dried blood and filthy mattresses are all slander by the Disgruntled Cuban Miami Mafia. These are special 'retro-decorations' installed by The Party who value earthy dignity over empty capitalist notions of cleanliness and new products.
Disgruntled capitalist ingrate complains of festering leg sore while ignoring US war crimes in Vietnam.
This picture is a plant by the Miami Mafia. Just like the faked Apollo 11 moon landing.
Comrades choose environmentally responsible transport over gaia-destroying American SUVs.
The Sydney Morning Herald, they're having a forum on Fidel Castro's “legacy”.
Naturally, the closet-fascist pinko loons - who would scream with rage at having to live under the same laws as Cubans - have come out in full force. Some sample comments:
In the words of Kim Du Toit: Scratch a lefty, you'll find a totalitarian.
(Cross-posted to the Australian Libertarian Society blog)
...enough fucking Bindi Irwin already.
did the titanic run over any fish
Meet my zionist cat, Loli:
Aint she cute?
Occasionally, you avoid something for legitimate reasons, but realise later it was terrible mistake.
Given that Deadwood seemed to revolve around the same subject matter, and the first episode was directed by Wild Bill's Walter Hill, I can tell you my enthusiasm for viewing this show was not particularly high.
Lordy, what a miscalculation.
HBO has provided some mighty television in their day, but Deadwood is the new watermark as far as I'm concerned.
Let's face it. The western genre is as dead as Yasser Arafat's arsehole, and it had a pretty miserable history before it croaked. Take away The Wild Bunch and a half-dozen Clint Eastwood movies, and you've got fifty-plus years of cornball bilge starring talentless wankers like John Wayne.
Deadwood makes almost the entire oeuvre of The Western look downright cretinous. It is brutal, intelligent, profane, funny, fascinating, chilling and occasionally heartbreaking. Set around the early days of the Deadwood settlement, then illegally perched on Sioux land, we follow both small character stories and the larger narrative of the lawless town attempting integration with the United States, often through bribery, lies and violence.
What makes it so good? Let me count the ways....
1: It has the best ensemble cast in the history of acting. Not one movie, TV show or theatre production comes close. This is acting of the highest order. It would be enough just to have an Ian McShane as saloon owner Al Swearengen, but the vast array of supporting players deserve no less praise. Everyone seems to be living and breathing their roles. There isn't false note to be seen.
2: The period detail is pitch perfect. People walk around in clothes smeared with dirt. The saloons are dark, noisy and shitty. The main street is a swamp of mud and animal shit. The whores look filthy. People have bad teeth. Guys piss into chamberpots in front of others. The food served at the main hotel looks like congealed vomit. Some photos from the real Deadwood at the time the show takes place shows what a remarkable job the producers did at recreating the place. Unlike the majority of westerns, which look like someone just stuck up six wooden building facades alongside a dirt road, the town in Deadwood feels real.
3: The language and narrative: everyone talks about the amount of swearing on this show, and they aint exaggerating, but it's the old world constructions of the spoken word in Deadwood which is fascinating. Some dialogue, almost Shakespearian in tone and complexity, can verge toward the impenetrable on occasions. Yet such is the beautiful melding of dialogue, acting, editing and general narrative focus mean that while you may occassionally miss a point, you'll generally get the drift.
4: There isn't a cliche to be seen, from the western genre or any other, in the entire series. The characters act pretty much how real people of that type would act, which sometimes means unpredictably. But this is not to say it's some try-hard wannabe MTV-generation show, with wank-cool dialogue, jump-cut editing, and pointless graphic violence just to show how hip it is. Deadwood, apart from being great entertainment, is a beautiful, profane work of art. If you think CSI or NYPD Blue are great shows, or you like your westerns with some clench-jawed ham coming in to save some townsfolk from evil bandits, go elsewhere. This show is too damn good for you to lay eyes on it.
Of course, being arguably the greatest TV show ever made, it was cancelled by HBO last year after only three seasons. Word is that there will be two movie-length episodes in the near future to finish off the story, but until then, I'll be counting the seconds till the season 3 DVDs come out.
Gaaaarh. I haven't been for a ride on the z1000 since going to watch the Phillip Island motoGP race back on October, and it pisses me off. Once you've got the motorcycle-touring bug, it's hard to get it out of your system.
The whole moving-house-and-spending-shitloads-of-money thing has curtailed my weekend trips for a while now, but I'm nearing the point where I'm about to get the whole thing re-started.
There been another hold-up too: The piece of flimsy aluminium holding the exhaust pipe onto the pillion peg stem snapped in half while coming back from Phillip Island, and the Aus distributor took months to get me a new one.
The good news is that the World Superbikes at Phillip Island is less than two months away. I'm chompin at the bit already....
He's still sending hundreds of demented postings to a range of newsgroups, and his latest riff is telling us about the awesome new Islamic weapon of war: a box of matches.
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