Puppy Media

Please go to the Puppy Media site to see the latest writings.  http://puppymedia.blogspot.com.au/

Best of Mycroft

Hello readers.  One hopes you have enjoyed these postings.  Mycroft is opening a new blog under the name 'Paul' where stories, photos and perhaps even articles will appear.  The best of Mycroft will still be published from time to time.  Thank you for supporting Mycroft!

The Voice prediction

Greetings blog readers!

Mycroft is pleased to announce his prediction for the final of The Voice, the modern day visual equivalent of Triumph of the Will.

The four finalists in The Voice are Rachael (show surname Leahcar - Rachael in reverse - why?), Karise, Sarah and Darren.

Mycroft predicts that Rachael will be victorious.  If I am wrong, no one will remember and if I am correct I shall claim psychic powers and apply for a job doing the 'psychic advice' column in New Idea.

The Block Game Show

Last night Mycroft speculated that The Block might continue on with a sewer theme by arranging a stream of waste shooting into the air to a height in the vicinity of the stratosphere.  Tonight the show achieved just that with a 'Game Show' routine.  This was pure, undiluted, liquid muck.  I would be amazed if even the producers can watch this without cringing.  Then again, they have put some other notorious rubbish on television.  Calling these dreadful travesties of entertainment 'shows' is like calling the maiden voyage of the Titanic a 'cruise'.

Sydney Fringe Film Festival

Hi All,

Mycroft has heard of the Sydney Fringe Film Festival, happening in Newtown this September.  Mycroft plans to get on board and support it.  For more information, check out the link:
Sydney Fringe Films

The Block Sewer

Viewers will be pleased to know that in tonight's episode of The Block, the sewer systems were connected.  The imaginative director then showed various fascinating camera angles of toilets flushing.  I must admit that is a fitting metaphor for the show.

One wonders what the director can do to top that one, unless perhaps it is showing a stream of waste hurtling into the air from a broken sewer main.  To be a suitable metaphor for the show the stream would need to approach the stratosphere.  That is it readers, a stratospheric stream of waste.

Tonight's drama, apart from toilet filming, concerned Dale and Sophie deciding how to take prize money from their rivals on the show.  It was 30 seconds of thin plot stretched out into 30 minutes.  Come to think of it, watching the toilet flush was the most exciting thing in the entire show.  Mycroft eagerly awaits the next episode.

Downton Abbey

Downton has retuned to our screens.  It seems that the stately home has been turned into a sort of quasi hospital.  It seems odd that the household staff are co-existing with a military chain of command.  Not odd is that the revolutionary chauffeur seems to be planning to assassinate a senior general, or that Lady Edith seems to be seeking romance in all the wrong places.

Rather tedious is having to watch commercials promoting digestive system health.  The last one shown a few moments ago depicted green dots moving through the body with a large arrow then flying out of the diagrammatic person's posterior.  Seriously?  Do we really have to watch that?

There are also nonsensical commercials for a particular beer, which apparently supports 'mateship'.  Also health insurance that helps a person meet a 'healthier version' of themselves.  All very strange.

3 toed sloth

Mycroft has heard worrying reports of laziness in workplaces which are meant to be Buzzing Like Angry Hornets that have become Very Angry.  Mycroft has thus been motivated to attempt to think of the best (worst?) description of lazy behaviour.  The early favourite was:

"Would not work in ten iron lungs"

A few other potential front runners include:

"Slower than an arthritic snail" and
"Slower than an arthritic 3 toed sloth"

A winning combination would appear to be:

"Slower than an arthritic 3 toed sloth in an iron lung"

Readers are encouraged to send in descriptions of Lazy Sloths they have witnessed pretty much anywhere.  The most Slothful Arthritic Snail identified will receive a handsome reward of Nothing.  The nominating reader will have the satisfaction of spotting a Dreaded Sloth.

Well done all.

Wayside Chapel

Mycroft recently attended the reopening of the Wayside Chapel at Potts Point.  This is a fine Sydney charitable project, caring for many in the Kings Cross area who are in need.  In this photo, the official guests at the reopening release balloons to symbolise 'Love over Hate' (Photo by Paul Clark)

Apologies

Mycroft apologises for his lack of posting!

Mycroft's friend, Paul Clark, has been out and about at the Sydney Writers' Festival and posted this on The Flaneur web site:

http://flaneur.me.uk/05/dr-karl-at-the-sydney-writers-festival/

The Block and rubbish decorating

Hello readers, Dale and Sophie of The Block fame are setting new standards in rubbish decorating by decorating their house with a bundle of what look like sticks.  They look like the sticks on the cover of the album Led Zeppelin IV.  See the link to spot Sophie's sticks: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Led_Zeppelin_IV  The sticks are positioned on a bed head, and thankfully one of the judges has identified this bundle as rubbish.  I expected them to go into orgasmic raptures over this.

Meanwhile, Dan and Danni are conversing in a strange language.  From Danni, it is mainly a sequence of 'awww' sounds which sound a little like a seal barking.

Mycroft is also forced to agree with some critics who recently suggested that Glee has become a television show in search of a plot.  Tonight we are addressing themes of teenage cheating and the death of Whitney Houston.  It is hard to maintain interest in this, though perhaps easier than Alcatraz, which seems to combine ultra violent scenes with a total lack of plot development. An attempt to reprise X Files perhaps?

The Block and strange sounding music

Mycroft has once again amused himself watching The Block.  Tonight there is a strange thing going on with the music.  While Dale and Sophie (the eternal 'newlyweds') are on screen there is music playing which sounds as though it has been lifted from the George Clooney film, The Descendants.  It may have been.  I keep expecting someone to come forward and deck Dale and the Sophster in floral garlands.  Once that music stopped, inexplicably a harp started up.  No doubt it made sense to someone.

Earlier in the day, Miss Fluffy discovered the Charlie Lovett cafe in Norton Street, Leichhardt.  In the photo she is seen enjoying some puppy food. The coffee belongs to Mycroft.  The cafe has a nice little paved area where small puppies like Miss Fluffy can have a little explore.

Lord of the Rings

Long time followers of Mycroft will be aware of his contention that the Dark Lord Sauron would make an absolutely first class tier one management consultant.  Today, Mrs S suggested that some of the other Lord of The Rings characters also needed proper career paths.

This started me thinking about where Hobbits might fit in.  They do seem to have an interest in local provincial sort of issues, such as flower beds, gardens, development applications (think the expanded mill in 'The Scouring of the Shire') and street trees (the Old Forest encroaching on the borders of Buckland). Why not, then, appoint Hobbits to local councils?  They would fit in perfectly. Certainly better than some. Imagine the Ents removing street trees - not very likely.  Unless the trees got up and moved themselves, I suppose.  The Ents operating the woodchipping machines of Leichhardt Council? I think not.  They might make quite good 'stop/go' sign operators.

While the Hobbit story is developing, Mycroft is watching The Voice.  Miss Fluffy is assisting by snoring enthusiastically through the boring bits.  Which is to say, all of it.  It is entertaining to see the Nuremberg rally theme seems to be persisting, with the contestants forced to learn a strange salute which includes clutching a microphone as though it is a salami they are trying to squeeze in the middle.  That could perhaps have a more pleasing effect.

Channel Nine is also advertising a new series called 'Tricky Business' which the advertising makes look as trite as the title makes it sound.  It may be worth watching to determine if it is the worst television show ever made, but that is the only reason Mycroft can think of.

Aircraft

Mycroft was out and about this morning and snapped a picture of this Qantas aircraft over the Leichhardt skyline.  The tower is part of the old Leichhardt post office, no now longer in use as a post office.  It is a striking looking building.  To see a picture of the post office in 1905, go here:  www.leichhardt.nsw.gov.au/Leichhardt.html

In common with everyone else, I am enjoying these clear blue autumn skies.  The blue is a perfect background for photography.

Mycroft confesses

Mycroft is forced to confess that he does not know how people actually speak.  His criticisms of 'The Block' speech and grammar is based on a flawed understanding of how the 'young folks' actually speak.

I'm listening to a couple of them right now.  It actually is a couple.  The woman is sitting on a lounge in a student lounge room in a university while a man sprawls on the lounge with his head on her lap. No mean feat as he has the silliest skater cap in the world on his head.  With long, lank, hair he looks like Martin Bryant in a silly hat.  He sounds like Shaggy from Scooby Doo, only more stoned.  Every syllable is drawn out into a tired drawl as though every utterance is an effort.

He's doing better than his girlfriend anyway, who looks to be in her 20s but sounds about 10.  Though a 10 year old would be more articulate.  She peppers her sentences with "whaaat?' and inane giggles, every now and again saying long words such as 'awesome'.  The occasional inane giggles at least break up the flow of meaningless, inane, chatter.  I've heard more exciting conversation by pulling the cord on an old fashioned talking doll.

Contributing further to the joy of the experience of sitting near these clowns is that one or both of them smells.  Do they shower?  I have to look away now as they appear to be commencing the early stages of sexual congress (the Sexual Congress was not, of course, the Congress of Vienna or other Congresses of similar sounding names).  Ah, all is well now as the activity has worn them out and they have slumped back into a sloth like level of activity.  Make that an arthritic sloth.  Ah the young folks.  Hopefully they are off now to discover something better than Facebook, such as soap.

Les Liaisons Dangereuses, The Block

Mycroft saw the Sydney Theatre Company production of Les Liaisons Dangereuses on Saturday night and was pleasantly surprised that it was a 'well made play'.  I was secretly expecting to be confronted by some bizarre reinterpretation which would, to not put too fine a point on it, suck.

Fortunately this production does not suck.  The audience was a little confused at first, as the players were on stage as the audience entered.  Undaunted, the Sydney crowd did what it usually does best: sat there and brayed about itself.  Fortunately the orgy of self adulation eventually ended and we were able to watch the play.  It was so conventional and 'well made' that it was perhaps the 'chocolate box' experience on (anonymous) critic derided when saying that the Belvoir theatre (by way of comparison) does not put on 'chocolate box' type experiences, only confronting incomprehensible rubbish.  I have now beheld a chocolate box experience, and it was good.

Sadly one cannot say the same about The Block.  The appalling speech and grammar continues to flow from the 'reality stars' in not so much a mangling but a destruction of the English language.  I am hoping that the scriptwriters have told them to speak like dullards. If they are doing this by themselves it is rather alarming.  Does someone who is married to a school teacher really say "I seen that I did not fill up all the nail holes," instead of "I saw...."?  I hope fervently that he was reading from an auto cue.  The most irritating trend on the show is that the 'stars' have little interview spots where they tell you what you can see on camera:

Scene: Sovereign Hill gold rush mine theme park thingy
Enter: the cast (cast walks up hill and sees Scotty)
Bogan 1: "So we walked up the hill....."
Bogan 2: "And we seen Scotty...."

Riveting, fantastic reality television, I must say.

The Block - the couples move in

Mycroft is unable to fathom why the contestants are supposedly surprised that the houses they are to renovate are essentially ruins.  Did they not watch the last series?

The director seems to be experimenting with filters again.  Tonight the experiment seems to be showing some colour on a black and white scene (think the girl in the red dress on Schindler's List).  Unfortunately this show is not Oscar winning drama, it's 'reality TV'.  It's a bit like watching Teletubbies, in fact, as the viewer is shown what happens several times in case anyone did not understand it on the 1st, 2nd or 3rd occasion.

Mrs S forecast that the contestants would constantly say the following: "oh my God" and "There's no floor".  She was of course correct.  The "oh my God" count is into the trillions and the show is only 15 minutes old. One would imagine that the director could have told them to try saying something else.  Soon we discover they could not be trusted to do so as the contestants offer the following gems:

"It's raining and the rain is literally coming in"
"I am familiar with having a tool in my hand"

The contestants have now reached an orgasmic level of excitement having been presented with vouchers to acquire renovation goods at various stores.  Inspirational music plays in the background as the couples discover their vouchers allow them to purchase tins of paint and bedsheets.  Once again, they seem not to have watched the last series.  They are lucky they don't have to watch this one.

The Voice

Greetings readers.  Tonight Mycroft is watching another 'The' show.  This time it is 'The Voice'.  The chief entertainment value of this show is the vaguely fascist orientation of the sets. The centrepiece is a fist clutching a microphone, and giving a 'v' for victory sign.  Surrounding this centrepiece are banners hanging down from the walls, coloured red and white and black.  It's like 'Young Talent Time' meets Leni Riefenstahl's 'Triumph of the Will'.

Mycroft has also had a weekend on the roads and in the company of Mrs S and Miss Fluffy was able to identify some of the leading indicators of the motoring loser.  The top 5 indicators of danger are summarised below:

1.  The car sickness strap.  Incredibly, some still believe that attaching a rubber strap to a car so it drags on the road will prevent car sickness. This was a far more common belief in the 1960s and 70s and was often accompanied by the wearing of a hat, or the coating of the interior (which was vinyl) in a layer of clear plastic.

2.  The frangipani sticker on the rear window.  Usually found on a Hyundai Excel, this sticker spells danger.  This, or any other flower sticker.  The only more concerning sticker is the even more ludicrous 'Magic Happens' sticker, usually found on VW Kombi vans driven by manufacturers of fairy paraphernalia.

3.  NSW number plates that have three groups of two characters.  For some reason these seem to feature on cars driven erratically.  There is no science to support the contention that these are 'special' plates, however watch this space for the research to emerge.

4.  Weather shields on the side windows.  These survive into the present day when their former companion pieces, the external sun shade (over the front windscreen) and rear window 'louvre' have disappeared.  The immense plastic window shield was often found on the driver's window of taxis or company cars in the 1970s.  The idea was that you could have the window open to rest your elbow on it, and puff on a smoke, and rain would stay out.  This of course did not work, even though the plastic shield was bigger than a riot squad member's plastic shield.  Smaller versions of the weather shield survive, though to what purpose no-one knows as they would appear even less capable of keeping weather out.  If you see a car fitted with these stupid things, watch out.

5.  Any Mitsubishi Lancer 3 door.  For some reason, these cars seem to be the vehicle of choice for many who simply can't drive.  Usually seen on the roads looking tatty, and filled to the gunwales with heaps of clothes or perhaps sporting items jammed against the windows, these are best avoided.

The Block - The latest couples challenge

Hello readers.  Regular readers who have been following Mycroft's analysis of Channel 9's 'The Block' will be delighted to know that last night's episode served up more of the same.  Last night, Brendan and Michelle were defeated by Sophie and Dale.  Readers will not be surprised that as each approached the famous 'Big Red House' they commented on the following:

1. They were given an address
2. They walked up the road (presumably as instructed by an assistant director)
3. They saw a big red house

Truly stunning television.

Readers will also be pleased to hear that the judges once again were given an eerie glow by some weird filter on the camera lens.  This looks very odd on the bald guy.  Sadly, the judges' activity rate has not really lifted and they continue to make a few limp comments about whatever is put in front of them.  Seriously, they have so little to say they could be replaced by three garden gnomes.  However, beware of the Nazi garden gnomes:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/5889318/German-Nazi-gnome-not-illegal.html

The Block and shonky dialogue

Greetings readers.  For those watching 'The Block', perhaps you share Mycroft's amazement that every 'couple' is introduced to the elimination challenge by a shot of them walking up the street.  For each and every couple, it goes something like this:

Enter Couple.
Couple: "We were given an address and then we walked up the street and there was a big red house there"
Camera pans to Scotty.
Scotty: "Welcome to my big red elimination house"

Then there is an interview about the introduction:
Enter Couple.
Couple Person 1: "We were given an address and then we walked up the street and there was a big red house there"
Couple Person 2: "We were given an address and then we walked up the street and there was a big red house there"

Seriously, is this the best the director could do? Sadly I suspect the answer is 'yes'.

Other 'strange' events in the show include:

1. Each team picks the same colour paint for their room
2. Each team has an utterly piss-weak 'crisis' such as the phone battery being flat or a 15 ton piece of furniture won't fit in the back of a (no name) car
3. The father/daughter team where the father seems to have had a complete personality bypass
4. The eerie glow around the bald judge's head caused by a rather strange lens filter on the camera

The Block and all shows beginning 'The'

Hello Blog-o-Verse.  All will be pleased to know that TV ratings season is here and the networks are rolling out their top rating shows.  First up is The Block.  In tonight's episode, couple Dan and Dani wow the viewers with their spectacular mangling of the English language.  The other couple featured tonight, Courtney and Mr Boofhead (Brad), are not much better in their banal observations. "Like it's just surreal with everything totally happening at once" and "Like, it's totally such an overwhelming experience...." and "Dan please give your friggin honest opinion about something."

Strangely, for a show that thrives on product placement, the exterior of the cars the contestants are driving has not been shown once, nor has any car company badge.  Perhaps the cars are a big secret?

After 'The Block' is another 'The' show....'The Voice' soon to be followed by yet another 'The' show, with 'The Celebrity Apprentice'.   At least 'The Celebrity Apprentice' will feature 'The Hoff'.  Tremendous excitement at over use of the word 'The'.

Now The Block judges are judging the first room.  One utters the prize winning sentence (talking about a mock decoration searchlight): "What they've done is interpreted the mood of that light really well." Lights have moods?  Dan and Dani, having been judged worthy to move into the competition, have an attack of the weepies.  The auto cue must have told them to burst into tears.

Mycroft and the normalcy patterns of the suburb

Hello readers, Mycroft is pleased to let you know the results of his observations over the week from ranging far and wide beyond his own street.  In no particular order, a few things have emerged this week.

Firstly, someone up the road is a fabulous gardener.  Think a controlled version of Day of the Triffids.  Their garden is completely covered in plants  - no need for bark mulch or wood chips or anything - every square centimetre is covered with a plant.  That makes up for some of the rubbish gardens.

Actually, they are literally rubbish gardens as they are filled in some cases with old phone books (how did they come to have so many?), furniture and alcohol containers.  The overflowing ash tray completes the ensemble at some places.  One imagines the troglodytic denizens out in the front garden puffing on a smoke, downing a beer and belting themselves over the head with phone books while standing on an imitation Chesterfield.  Truly there is no limit to human ingenuity.

There is also a rather odd 'Steptoe and Son' (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steptoe_and_Son) house not far away where the inhabitants keep a truck piled high with rubbish.  It changes over every now and again. Not long ago they had a house warming where partially well dressed bogans turned up and greeted each other with the universal greeting of 'arrrgh'.  That noise seems to be a multi purpose noise and the meaning remains unclear.  The truck piled high with rubbish is a departure from a common vehicle type, that being the mass produced coupe with a stupidly loud exhaust that actually slows the car down (due to weight and loss of efficiency).  Another popular type is the car or ute with an alarm that chirps when armed, so the whole street knows the owner has set the alarm on their car which is such rubbish even a caveman who was desperate to drive somewhere would not steal it.  When the poorly installed alarm flattens the battery the car sits in the street and honks itself into submission.  Pity the owners would not follow suit.

Mobility for puppies

It's quite hard to see in this photograph but there is a small terrier in the front basket of this mobility scooter, out and about in Sydney's inner west.  It is a little like Audrey Hepburn's terrier, Mr Famous, who travelled in the basket of her pushbike (around the studios in Hollywood).  

As for Miss Fluffy, she has to rely on her own four paws to get around.  On her last stroll around the area, she met a creature somewhat larger than her.  She did not seem to mind too much, eventually wandering around as though her new colleague was her size.

Miss Fluffy is helping Mycroft watch the Aussie version of Top Gear.  I must admit it's hard to take an immense interest in it, though it is kind of funny watching the Top Gear crew driving hens around on a hens' night.  The girls seem to be enjoying the Rooty Hill RSL more than the Jaguar they have been forced to climb into.....

Stick insects, shopping trolleys and light rail

An interesting day in the Mycroftian world.  The giant stick insect (a picture of one anyway) remains on the local church, encouraging all to worship.  This has to be a good thing, especially if the giant stick insect would strike at those who abandon supermarket shopping trolleys on the streets. Anyone who can think up an innovative and amusing punishment for the pests who are responsible for this, please send in suggestions.....One that has been sent to me is forcing the trolley dumpers to work at a laughably bad company where their boss is a Prong of the ocean going class (that is, very large).  Unfortunately Mycroft knows of no such Prong Sanctuary, though he has at times heard rumours.  One place he has heard of is so bad that you could sell tickets to go and watch the fun, such as in the old days when people paid a few pence to go to Bedlam and spectate.  As an aside, it was probably more edifying than some of what masquerades as 'theatre' nowadays.

 It was a big day for Miss Fluffy, who travelled on the light rail system.    She had a fun time, looking at the scenery moving past the windows.  "Well done the public transport system", she was no doubt saying to herself as the light rail car arrived.

Supermarket shopping trolleys

Is anyone else bemused that the shops that own these stupid shopping trolleys don't put a doorkeeper on the exits to their shops to stop people removing the things?

They appear everywhere on the streets and seem to be so solidly constructed that they will outlast civilisation itself.  The owners (the shops) are so lazy they don't even look for them anymore.  Annoyed citizens have to log on to a website to report the things.  Any shop owner should be able to track the migratory patterns of their trolleys, and go out and pick them up.  That's if they really can't put someone on their door - they seem to have 12 staff supervising the 'self check out' area so there must be someone spare.

I recall when - wait for it - 'Rebel Sport' had an armed guard standing outside the shop.  I was never sure if this was to shoot armed robbers or shoplifters.  Presumably shoplifters, if they were moving slowly enough. An actual armed robber would have disarmed the guard in seconds.  So, instead of an armed guard, what about a trolley attendant?  Of course it's all too hard for the troglodytes in charge of these places...

Worship the stick insect

Good morning to the blog o verse.  Mycroft was concerned this morning, while walking up the local main street, to see what appeared to be a picture of a giant stick insect on the wall of a local church.  This appeared to indicate that the church had been taken over by a new cult which demanded the worship of stick insects.  While this sort of thing would barely raise an eyebrow in Sydney, as I walked closer I saw I was mistaken.

The picture is in fact the crown of thorns and the poster was for Easter.  Mycroft of course does not poke fun at such things.

That the worship of a cult of giant stick insects had taken off in Sydney's inner west would have been a more fascinating story to report.  One can't have everything.

If anyone intends to start a cult of worshipping stick insects, preferably giant ones, please let Mycroft know.  Though I must admit if anyone is game to admit to worshipping stick insects of any size that is clearly worthy of a blog entry.

The word on the street

It’s a fascinating experience here on the street.  Trying to find a coffee shop that doesn’t disrupt the Mycroftian sense of peace.  Or rather where the patrons don’t annoy me.  The one I’m in now has people yelling at each other to make sure everyone sees them.  One person in here has an actual steel supermarket shopping trolley, which I presume will end up dumped on the street outside her house.  At least it won’t be in the coffee shop then. 

Anyway, now that the friend has moved off they don’t need to shout at each other in exaggerated ‘dahling’ accents from a range of approximately 15 cm.  It is an improvement from the last café where stressed executives ran up and done whacking everyone in the vicinity with their satchels.  They were worse at this than school children.  Some of the school children, for their part, were all having ciggies in the local park.  Winfield Blue or Marlboro?  Who can say?

Anyway, no doubt the executives will be heading off to some meeting or other.  To discuss high intellectual theory which is actually utter nonsense.  A friend of mine worked in a management consulting firm at one time, we can’t use their real name here so we will call them ‘The Workhouse’.  In fact nothing about this story relates to any real firm Mycroft has ever known personally. 

The Workhouse was a funny place, my friend said, mostly because of the distance between management perceptions of themselves and what they were actually like.  One of the senior managers was apparently called ‘Spanner’ because he was such a tool. My friend said that he thought he was a great guy.  Sadly, to show the distance between perception and reality (what he and his fellow managers might have called the ‘delta’) he was in fact a complete prong.  

Miss Fluffy out and about

Here we see Miss Fluffy tripping along in the direction of home.

For some reason, Miss Fluffy can be a little slow on the outward journey.  Once her little nose turns for home she then sets a cracking pace.  Perhaps on this occasion she was excited to get home to see the booking for Legally Blonde - The Musical though unfortunately she won't be able to go to The Star to see this production.....

Now Miss Fluffy is helping to watch the Elizabeth Taylor/Richard Burton version of The Taming of the Shrew.  I recall watching this in the late 1970s and it is quite fun to watch even now.  Though one suspects Richard Burton was not always acting when he plays the hard drinking, roistering Petruchio on screen.  The production has not dated and may indeed be the signature screen adaptation of this play.    

A standard week in New South Wales

Greetings readers.  It seems that all is as usual in New South Wales this week.  The NSW Police keep the streets safe by booking cyclists for not wearing helmets on a cycleway.  Is there really no more pressing law enforcement issue right now?

On TV in NSW, the 'Excess Baggage' TV show has been in the Southern Highlands.  I watched every show this week and have to say it was all a bit limp.  Pretty dull TV, though not as dull as going to the opera and watching boring, misogynist, rubbish (AKA Cosi).  The most entertaining part is listening to the contestants mangle the English language.  For example, one contestant is complaining about her team mate being lazy.  She says: "He's trying to get out of anything except working in this competition."  So one presumes he's not trying to get out of working in the competition?  Spare us.

Elsewhere in the world, the Americans have invented a robot jellyfish.  I wonder if we can get a few of those in NSW (roaming the streets and jumping out in front of cyclists not wearing helmets).

Cosi fan tutte

Hello all,

Mycroft has been off to the opera again.  This time it was to see Cosi fan tutte.  At the Sydney Opera House.  I have not seen this before and I have to say I was disappointed.  It did not seem to justify the rather sucking up calls of "Bravo" etc from what must have been an easy to please crowd.

According to the program blurb, the production is 'framed' by a wedding 'ritual'.  I have no idea what this is supposed to mean.  Usually, people refer to a wedding ceremony, not a 'ritual'. That makes it sound like some sort of sacrifice.  Nonsense.  As to framing the production, what this seemed to mean was that someone dressed as a bride and someone dressed as a groom had to sit on the left and right of the stage and watch the opera.  I'm not sure how they tolerate sitting through this boring, pretentious rubbish night after night.  They must need counselling.  My advice is that if you want to watch something for three and a half hours, try watching paint dry, it will be more exciting.

Taxation

It was once said that "Taxation without representation is tyranny".  Had a bit to do with the American Revolution, I believe.  A great campaign to study, for those of you who are military history buffs.

I was thinking about taxation, having floated the idea of a CRAP Tax in my last posting.  Even if such a tax does not get up there are many other worthy taxes to consider.  Tax could be payable for such everyday activities as mobile phone usage while driving.  Simply set up a detection point on major roads, and whenever a handset moves through the detection zone, the owner is taxed.  Forget road safety, let us generate some revenue.

This leads to the broader issue that the government could build a 'Star Wars' style 'death star' to hover around making people do all sorts of things.  This would of course be expensive and dangerous, but once perfected (in 10,000 years or so) it would be a fabulous means of social control.  A death star could stop people mugging others for credit card details (allegedly for charities) on city streets.  It could make the trains run on time (OK, I made that up).  It could reduce the number of bugs in summer.  What a program.  One wonders if the 'Star Wars' 'Death Star' was really called that.  Would the Galactic Emperor have named it after his dad, perhaps?  Or for security, just given it a number (eg: the FLOGBAG 666) so it would not stand out from all the other Imperial Battle Cruisers.  The Mysterons, I must say, would have known what to do.  Revealed their plans, then cocked all of them up, that's what.  Good alien menaces are hard to find.

Hen nights and postings

Good evening readers in the blog-o-verse.  Some of Mycroft's readership is concerned about the inordinate attention paid to the logistics of manufacturing and distributing giant inflatable penises.  Mycroft Snooks is able to respond to these concerns and unequivocally state that he has no intention of entering into the manufacture and distribution of such items.

Let it be said that Mycroft holds the manufacture and distribution of giant inflatable penises to be an activity solely within the preserve of governments.  It has to be admitted that such activity would be a less harmful endeavour than what governments do get up to a lot of the time.  Almost certainly it would be cheaper than what they usually do.  They could even tax this activity: the Carrying Rubber Accessory Program Tax, or the 'CRAP Tax' for short.  Mycroft sees this activity getting up soon.

Giant inflatable penises

Good morning readers.  Some have asked how Mycroft can be so sure that the Hen parties he observed were carrying inflatable penises.  The thrust of the question (boom boom) seemed to be that it was possible the giant replica penises were in fact not inflatable, but solid or indeed a hard non inflatable shell.  At first I thought my readers had spent way too long thinking about this and was inclined to insist that the Hen night props were clearly inflatable.  However, I soon realised that the matter needed to be addressed.

I suspect that the considerations for Hen night props are:
1. The item must be able to be transported
2. The item must be 'shocking'
3. The item must relate in some way to penises
4. The item must be noticeable

All the above considerations dictate that the ideal Hen night prop must be large (in order to be noticed, and to shock) yet light in weight in order to permit mobility.  As the item must also relate to penises in some way, a large yet mobile (or portable) fake penis is thus the item of choice.  An item with a hard shell which would not collapse would be expensive to manufacture, package, transport and store in a retail supply chain.  A solid object would be impossibly heavy as well.  So thus we conclude that the giant penises were inflatable.

Mycroft now stands by for questions regarding whether a proper market survey has been done.  Perhaps next week.

Reading

At the moment Mycroft is reading 'Red Zone Baghdad My War in Iraq' by Marcus Fielding.  This is an interesting study of one person's war as a member of the Australian Army.  The perspective is different from many recent books about conflicts around the world and is definitely worth a look.

Otherwise Mycroft has been enjoying some fine autumn weather.  Unfortunately Sydney did not have a great summer so the whole population is on the look out for a ray of sunshine.  Hard to believe that a few years ago there was not enough water to float a toy boat made out of half a matchbox.  Now it's more like Waterworld (though without an odd looking Kevin Costner).

I was disappointed to read on Mark Dapin's blog that he no longer writes for the Sydney Morning Herald 'Good Weekend'. For more details, see  http://markdapin.blogspot.com.au/
A warning though, there is a You Tube video on the site which includes some very serious swearing.  That's fairly common for our Mark, who once invited people to deface his Wikipedia entry and offered a prize for the most inventive effort.....You can read the real page here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_Dapin

Currently Mycroft is watching 'Glee'. Yes, I still check out what's on the box (the flat screen?) every so often. In tonight's Glee, Jeff Goldblum appears.  So that is where he disappeared to!  I think everyone was wondering where he went.

Hen nights

Mycroft was fascinated to be out in a northern city in Australia....there were numerous 'Hen' groups out on the town.  Curiously, there seemed to be no 'Buck' parties.  Perhaps they just are not visible.  The Hen nights were hard to miss as the groups were all dressed in costume (the same costume for each member) or at least in identical t shirts.  The bride to be was usually identified by a sash (saying 'bride to be') or a veil with (in some cases) condoms stuck to it (in packets, thankfully).  Carrying giant inflatable penises around the streets was also a popular part of the routine.  There was also an odd trend demonstrated by a couple of groups where the women had writing on themselves, apparently written with a felt pen.  One hopes it comes off in time for work on Monday.

A big Saturday night in this town is also incomplete without queuing for a taxi and yelling witticisms at those which fail to stop.  "Wanker" seemed a popular term of endearment.  I must admit it did seem to encourage one or two vehicles to actually come to a stop and take on passengers.  Drunken arguments with bouncers, cabbies, police etc all seem to be an important part of the end of the evening.  Mycroft dodged it all and safely returned to his hotel where a seemingly unhinged young woman was running around locking all the doors providing access to the public areas of the hotel (such as the lobby).  Meanwhile, crowds of bogans surged around her yelling something like "arrgh".  Never a dull moment around these parts.

The Silk Road

Readers will pleased to know that Mycroft eventually finished 'The Silk Road'.  They may be less pleased to note that at the end of 459 pages I wondered why I bothered.  The book, like the plot, just seemed to end with a whimper.  It was perhaps meant to be a 'bang', as some of the characters died in what seemed to be episodes of pointless violence, but to this reader it seemed that the book just trailed off.  A death bed confession tied up the loose ends and made the whole narrative seem even more pointless.  It's a pity, as some chapters were genuinely engaging.  Others may enjoy it more but this reader was left somewhat disappointed at what might have been.  I saw the book reviewed on some other sites.  One claimed the novel had a 'deeply satisfying ending'.  They must have read a different book.

The Oscars approach

The blog-o-verse is no doubt fascinated at the impending screening of the Oscars.  One suspects the Golden Turkeys would be a far more popular and indeed funnier show.  Mycroft does not plan to watch.  There is sure to be something far more interesting to do.  For what it is worth, Mycroft has had a stab at a few of the winners, just to enter into the fun of it all:

Best actor - George Clooney in 'The Descendants'.
Best actress - Margaret Thatcher playing Meryl Streep in 'Thatcherism'.
Best picture - no idea.  Almost anything will do.

I believe 'Albert Nobbs' was nominated for something.  Possibly the longest list of word associations available in an art house film.  Sadly, other regular characters featured in this blog such as the Mysterons get nothing.  Perhaps one day there will be a category for 'Most useless alien enemies in a TV puppet show'.

I am working my way through the novel 'The Silk Road' by Colin Falconer.  It can be a bit heavy going at times but I sense that the pace of the narrative is picking up as I pass the half way point.  In the novel, a Templar knight journeys to ancient China for some reason I've now forgotten (and I suspect so has everyone else).  The characters do say lots of enigmatic things to each other and there is a bit of sword and sandal stuff.  Also some racy parts that are not quite Mills and Boon romance.  Kind of 'Shogun' by James Clavell but in an earlier time and in China.  We'll see how this one finishes up.

If you can't find a good book to read, start a blog.  The blog-o-verse needs you.  Happy writing.  In the photo below, Miss Fluffy helps out:

Dog friendly

Mycroft has been horrified to learn from a reader that a certain university campus has banned companion animals as apparently one animal had an accident in an office.  This seems to Mycroft to be a bit rich as all sorts of things happen on campus - apparently at one college some official function had semi naked waitstaff - and no-one gets banned.  So, one fluffy creature has an accident and they are all banned.

Mycroft suggests that bringing a dog to work is a localised matter not one for campus wide policy.  If you have an office and the dog is confined there except when you bring it in and out, then there should be no problem.  If the dog is noisy when you are not there then that could be a problem, but if the dog or dogs sleep quietly until you come back, then once again no problem.  A badly toilet trained dog would be a problem and of course should not be brought to work.  Similarly, an aggressive dog would be unsuitable for work.  Mycroft knows that in the case of his reader it is two dogs who are being brought to work, lovely fluffy creatures who exist only to be friendly and loving!

Mycroft proposes that where a dog has shown itself to be a valued part of the office, those in Authority in their Ivory Tower should be contacted with a petition that appeals for said dog to be allowed to stay.  Alternatively, wait a bit and the anti dog policy will be forgotten amongst all the other unread policies, waste paper and general nonsense.   Or put a vest on the dog/dogs that looks slightly official (put a badge on it) and make up a set of credentials in a plastic sleeve (stating that the dog is approved by 'administration' and scrawl an illegible signature over the word 'Director').

Slack at blogging

I must apologise to the blog-o-verse that I have been a little tardy getting my next post out there.  I can only offer the excuse that I have been setting about becoming a student.  This is not as easy as it sounds.

Language:  One must say "like" a lot.  It is the equivalent of "um".  In addition, one must say "awesome" frequently, perhaps every second word.

Demographics: My university is perplexed by the notion of anyone over the age of 17 enrolling.  Introductory speeches are peppered with references to "what you did last year in your HSC/Year 12".

Geography: None.  This is why smartphones have GPS, to enable students to navigate the campus.  What pass for 'Campus Directories' are not.  The signs provide a place for sparrows to perch on but for actual directions you might as well look at a rock.

Fascism: Crowds of boosters in identically coloured shirts direct your movement, ensuring that queues are straight, all seats are filled and all questions are answered.  I remembered that students used to be a little more anarchic.  Someone is still putting up Marxist posters but these are on the designated noticeboards.  Amazingly, so are the anarchist posters.

Like awesome, dudes.

Puppy in the country

Photo: Mycroft Snooks



What an 'interesting' week in the news....the 'leadership challenge' story regarding Kevin Rudd and Julia Gillard continues to creak on.  Much more interesting to view the picture above of puppy under the big sky.  Miss Fluffy enjoyed a run in the open fields before adjourning to a cafe to read up on some current affairs, as shown below....

Photo: Mycroft Snooks





While at the cafe with Miss Fluffy, Mycroft had the opportunity to review books read recently.  We recently discussed 'The Year After' by Martin Davies.  Also read was 'How I became a Famous Novelist' by Steve Hely.  This novel parodies the 'prize winning' literary style which seems to be so popular. It was generally quite funny.  Towards the end, though, it seemed to veer towards preaching a bit of a homily (as though the author was saying "I didn't really mean to poke fun at Literature because it really is serious").  So 5/10 for this one for not following through and really smashing 'literary' novels. 

Mycroft has started another two books.  One is 'Chango's Beads and Two-Tone Shoes' by William Kennedy.  It has reviewed well but I must confess that so far it is heavy going.  If I may whisper it, I'm finding it quite....boring.  Sorry.  It's really literary but it's not really drawing me in.  I had a similar problem with 'A Place of Greater Safety' by Hilary Mantel, eventually abandoning the book when I frankly got sick of the violence (of the French Revolution). I know the narrative was going somewhere but it did not seem to be taking me along with it. 'Wolf Hall', Hilary Mantel's 2009 Man Booker Prize winner, I did persevere with and eventually enjoyed. 

The other book Mycroft has started is 'Yossarian Slept Here' by Erica Heller, daughter of Joseph Heller of 'Catch-22' fame.  I was present for a lecture by Joseph Heller in 1999.  It cannot have been long before his death, and I have a copy of 'Catch 22' which he signed.  'Catch 22' was probably my favourite novel in high school, as perhaps the cynical humour in it struck a chord with me.  Erica's book is also a little hard to get into but we shall persevere and see how it goes.  Unfortunately, some books just need to be abandoned no matter how worthy the subject matter. 

Ah the country

Mycroft is pleased to report his return to the Big Smoke from the Country.  A wealth of new urban observations will now be re-opened up.  The country was an enjoyable place, notable for the lack of aircraft noise and only very rare vehicle noise.  The presence of wild creatures was a another bonus.  I know rabbits are a pest but seeing one like this is sure to make the average city person go 'awwww':

Photo: Wikipedia

Mycroft and family also observed a rather large wombat, not once but twice at the same bend in the road.  This particular one seemed to be having a rather bad hair day as it did not look immaculately groomed like the one on 'A Country Practice' (see below, the wombat is the one on the left).

Photo: Australian Centre for the Moving Image

One thing the country seems to have in common with the city is a preference for the citizens to restrict their getting pissed in public parks to the daytime.  This picture below is from Sydney's Inner West:

 

Photo: Mycroft Snooks

Ignore the sign about bird feeding, which has to be worth a blog entry itself, and read the sign prohibiting alcohol consumption between sunset and sunrise.  Similar signs appeared in a number of rural council areas Mycroft visited.  It seems a curious prohibition.  Is daytime consumption of booze more acceptable than night time consumption?  Is there a danger of some sort of combination of drinking and illegal bird feeding?  Spilling the bird seed due to being pissed at night in bad light? These are the big questions of the day. 

Mycroft is keen to point out that he does not like to see people adversely affected by alcohol at any time of the day, in a park or anywhere else.  He also dislikes pigeons being fed (unless of course they are eating their natural food....pigeons feeding their babies is of course absolutely approved of....) in parks, on the street, in space, etc

Stay tuned for other things Mycroft approves or disapproves of.  I don't know whether I approve or disapprove yet but I've been watching the TV show 'Excess Baggage'.  To learn more about the show click here:  http://channelnine.ninemsn.com.au/excessbaggage/

It's worth looking at the site for some fabulous spelling howlers.  For example:  'The teams face their feers with another breakthrough challenge, this time they have to absail down a dam wall.'  While I think of it, 'Absail' is also incorrect spelling.  The show is curiously engaging, as the contestants have clearly been coached to hold nothing back in front of the camera (or they have grown accustomed to the presence of a camera).  Mycroft is waiting for the first 'elimination' show, where it's likely the real tears and delivery of homilies will get underway.  The panel of judges have also been pretty wooden so far, asking penetrating questions like "how does that make you feel?" Something more interesting is needed if it is to keep Mycroft's interest.  One of the contestants telling the psych about having an imaginary friend, or communicating only through a sock puppet, would be more like it....

Travels with Miss Fluffy

Actually today has been rather rain affected again, so Miss Fluffy the Chihuahua has been napping in various places - usually on someone's lap. She is a lap dog after all. I was quite entertained to learn that one of the early benefits of lap dogs (or sleeve dogs, as they sometimes were) in Medieval times was that fleas would jump from the human onto the dog. These small dogs, supplied by enterprising merchants, were much sought after.

Anyway, little Madam needs a walk. As long as the grass stays wet it will be hard to persuade her to go out. She will tiptoe over the grass while offering a look of disapproval that Chihuahua owners know so well.

Another good reason to go out is that it is a rather slow news day, so not much to see on the 6pm news. Sad news of the death of Whitney Houston, once the biggest star in pop music. Even a movie star for a time, with Kevin Costner in 'The Bodyguard" at a time when Costner was a huge star. Despite having a truly dreadful haircut. In 'The Bodyguard' he appeared to have a squirrel's posterior on his head.

Mycroft recalled the great days of Costner recently, watching 'The Guardian' on television. I never thought the story of heroic rescue swimmers could be turned into such tedious rubbish. I yearned for one of Costner's better efforts in something like 'The Untouchables'.

Miss Fluffy is back on my lap again, so now it is back to one finger typing. Time to pause in one's typing to see what the evening's news brings for incisive comment...