Friday, October 04, 2013

It's horse head awards time ...

The pond knows that it's beyond Huff Post to recycle Huff Post as it recycles everything else, but hey there's knockdown self-reflexive reflexiveness for you, and besides that actual remark tickled the pond pink, or red, or whatever colour you fancy ...

Yep, it's truly amazing that Rep Marlin Stutzman, R - Indiana actually said it (here), and thereby instantly achieved his 15 minutes of Warholian fame - House Republican Tries, Fails to Put Out the "Don't Know" Mess He Made.

But let's not be hasty, because Stutzman has actually clarified a feeling at the pond.

The pond feels disrespected all the time - young punks with no respect and too much attitude - and get the fuck off my lawn - and in the spirit of Stutzman, we've decided to order a hundred horses' heads, since it seems the activities of the Mafia and politicians is in perfect synch - except, you might propose, that the Mafia usually knows what it wants when embarking on a shakedown...

Now we aim to get something out of the horses' heads, though we're not sure what it is, but hey, let the horses' heads flow.

First horse head heads off to that headless ass Barnaby Joyce.

Dear old Barners, already well down the path confirming Tamworth's burgeoning reputation as home to hicksville hypocrites:

No need to link to the reptiles at the lizard Oz playing their new "lite" games - no gold bar in sight but access to site barred unless you hand over personal details - so why not just read Joyce pulls in his horns on foreign land buys.

Even more astonishing the deal involves an Indonesian company, and we all - good xenophobes all - know that the boat people are entirely the fault and the responsibility of the wretched Indonesians.

Now the next time you stage a redneck wedding, make sure you sling Barners a couple of shekels to sing a song about how Australia is being sold off to duplictous furriners, or otherwise the taxpayer might have to pick up the cost of the petrol - Barnaby Joyce admits he may have claimed petrol costs for a second wedding visit.

The second horse's head of the day is an easy one, and if we'd come up with the idea earlier - where were you Rep Stutzman, where were you when you were needed - Graham "Gra Gra" Richardson would have a wall littered with horses' heads:


Provided at some point Graham Richardson does an interview where he faces up to the reasons many people can't stand him, not for a nano second.

Was it the Rene Rivkin matter wot did it? Was it the undeclared Swiss bank account containing $1.4 million? Was it the Offset Alpine affair? Was it the dispute with the Tax Office? Was it the affair of the cash for comment scandal? Was it his constant interference in the federal Labor party's affairs long after he'd turned into a shock jock? Or was it the stench surrounding the NSW Labor party? Or did it simply happen when he became a quisling lickspittle fellow traveller with the rest of the lizards in Murdoch la la land (and more on Gra Gra at his wiki here).

Sleep safely Richo, the pond is transporting your horse's head to a Swiss bank vault this very day.

Speaking of quislings, this effort by Mike Quigley surely deserves a horse's head:

That's a supremely rich call for a man who fucked up the roll out ...

Now by this time you're possibly saying that the pond is being too selective, but let's face it, Eddie Obeid has a roomful of horses' heads - he buys his own - and there's no point giving one to Leighton, since everybody knows it's only union corruption that excites the imaginations of the lizards at reptile central.

No, what we're looking for this Friday are truly eccentric outbursts of pique.

Come on down Paul Keating:

Now we know that the Bolter is an opera lover, keening and moaning into his red wine about the way love brings together the ice princess and Prince CalĂ f ... when he's not keening and moaning about SBS daring to show a different world to the one he favours, as you'd expect from someone who seems to toys, just below the surface, with a crypto-fascist desire to ban people, ideas, and reporting of same if any of it happens to offend the Bolter...

Better to be not seen and not heard than agitate the Bolter ...

So a blow against opera would by extension be something of a blow to the Bolter, if he only lived in Sydney.

But all the same, Keating has gone a tad funny of late, as you can read in Keating attacks harbourfront operas  if you've been tending your Fairfax hits ...

If a few harbourside operas attracts his ire, what on earth does he make of the rampant militaristic naval display which will see the entire Sydney CBD in lock down mode for the weekend?

Everybody's gone barking mad - "so many ships" - even sometimes sensible people like Mike Carlton - and it's already started and soon enough the whole joint will be closed off, the CBD shut down, and the harbour with it - for a display which conjures up memories of British imperialism and the ruling of the waves (and never mind the acidification of the oceans).


(More useless maps here).

Now deep down the pond doesn't mind - ever since the pond learned naval captains favoured wearing frocks in moments of crisis, we've had a soft spot for the navy.

Spectacle? Go for it ...

Two dogs fucking? Shut down the harbour and bung on the fireworks ...

So what on earth is Keating yabbering on about so selectively?

Mr Keating said Opera Australia artistic director Lyndon Terracini told him in a phone conversation that "opera-goers enjoy the opera more with the cross-water lit city panorama as the backdrop" - a claim Mr Terracini denies. 
"This is an admission by the artistic director that, on these occasions, he is unable to stage a sufficiently attractive and engaging opera performance without appropriating public view from public land," Mr Keating said.

This from the man who almost single-handedly helped stuff up Barangaroo, which bids fair to outdo Laurie Brereton's spectacular efforts at Darling Habour, so little loved it's already being given a revamp, thereby ensuring that new money will be wasted as spectacularly as the old ...

The pond offers it all as yet another spectacular example of Sydney parochialism and old class wars, a free kick for people living in Hobart, or Perth or Adelaide and forced to endure the snickers and sniggers of a Sydney given to superior airs.

It turns out that Keating, deliberately, conflated the upper class world of opera with the other activities of the Royal Botanic Gardens and Domain Trust, and opera is the least of these:

Opera Australia has staged two operas at Mrs Macquarie's Chair - La Traviata and Carmen - and Madame Butterfly will be staged next year. Mr Terracini said the site was "open all day everyday to the public" and opera performances were held only at night, when the gardens were closed. Harbourfront performances drew many first-time opera goers, he said. ''It's a very good use of the landscape … and the facilities that Sydney has to offer.''


If it's good enough for Prince Harry and a flock of sailors - hello sailors - to gum up the works, then where's the harm in the opera bunging on the odd do?

Not in parochial Sydney, not with Paul Keating with a bee in his bonnet about the toffs and opera, and so he too scores a horse's head this Friday ...

(Below: same as it ever was, though maybe this time the punchline should be "I'm afraid you're gonna need a new economy").

1 comment:

  1. Keating's fleeting operatic review is too, too late.


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