The Uberswedes and the burgeoning of the Marxist!

Went to the newly opened Super-Hyper-Uber-Sweder-Furniture-arama today, wonderful experience.

To begin with, the place is set out as some weird sort of sociological experiment, to navigate the showroom, you need to work your way through a strange maze of cheap furniture, stacks of handy books, bought in bulk because they are in Swedish, hordes of tape measure wielding psychopaths and stacks of packets of Swedish Potato Crisps )that little known example of Sweden's Cultural grant to the world)

I swear that somewhere there is a Swedish guy in a fetching sweater laughing hysterically and saying "So you thought the Swedish Chef was funny! Take that Anglo's!"

The overwhelming thought that occurred to both myself and the navigator and tea drinker was something along the lines that maybe Marx was right after all. The emporium is newly opened, and was apparently the cause of a traffic jam stretching at least two kilometers, on a Sunday afternoon in one of the quieter parts of the city. The local TV news were so desperate for stories that they had a camera crew on the median strip filming the lemmings being funneled into the carpark.

Inside was this ridiculous human porridge, all involved in some sad consumer fetish. I cannot believe that there is some weird shortage of furniture in this town that needed to be rectified on this specific Sunday afternoon. Nor do I believe that the product represents some sort of bargain, somewhat overpriced, probably made in a Sweat Shop(The company in question don't identify the country of origin of their products, only their "Brand"in the full Naomi Klein, Globalised sense of the word.

Seriously, do we need to buy Potato Chips called Ellinor to fully appreciate the act of buying furniture?

Thought not.

So why were we all there?

Curiosity on our part, the media have invested a somewhat ridiculous amount of time and energy plugging the arrival of this particular consumer opportunity in our fair burrough.We thought, let's go, have a look, see if it truly is the second coming or if it is just a pile of furniture in non recycled cardboard boxes next to an airport.

It's just a pile of furniture next to an airport.

But it does represent something a little more than that he says getting all profound.

Consider the amount of wealth, resources and energy consumed for a bunch of people to buy stuff that they don't need, that will probably fall apart in a few years, and to sit in queues in traffic looking for a carpark, the way in or out and the last vestiges of their sanity.

30 000 people die per day needlessly in Africa, remember the whole make poverty history, live 8 thing?.

Thought you might, the big groovy concert with Pink Floyd, Paul McCartney and all them, U2 even sang!

They were highlighting that sobering fact, 30 000 per day, every day, from causes that are conquerable.

Yet we all sit in our little noise boxes in the traffic jam, burning hydrocarbons and watching the conspicuous consumption meter ticking over. Then we cruise inside to a wonderland of earthly consumer delights!

How about, we do the Adbusters thing and have our own little buy nothing day instead?

How about we then take the money we waste sitting in our little traffic jam and divert it soemwhere else.

To donate a Goat to a family in Africa costs about $50 Australian. Lets break it down a bit. $50, lets see, fuel for the car at $1.40 a litre, allow ten litres to get there and back (assuming we don't all run on Biodiesel or have a Prius)That's about $15 to start with. Then the packaging on the furniture, probably another $5 (guessing here)$20 already and we haven't really done a lot. Packets of Ellinors for 2, guessing another $6, Cokeapepsifantas times 2 another $5.

That makes?

$31, or half a goat.

Electricity to run the building, or a value on power to run the aircon in the car,(don't want to get too hot do we?) and we are getting up there.

What is the average conscience worth?

Mine is pretty cheap, but I reckon the balance of $15 to $20 should cover it?

So instead of shuffling along in a column like Belsen inmates, or eating processed crap from a cardboard plate, do something productive with your wealth. Yes that is you, the nice educated middleclass blog reader who should be working, but who like me is having a nice little procrastinate.

What's that?

You need furniture?

That's fine, find a craftsman, an independent, patronise a small business.

The stuff will last longer anyway!

Mood

Mood: Scratchy

Music: Spareshells

Software of Choice: Linux

Something dark and mysterious and a little moody.

Sorry folks, just felt like having a Livejournal moment!

Melbourne

Walking through the immigration museum the other day with the travelling companion, navigator and tea drinker. Obstensibly we were there to have a look at the Greek Treasures show (highly recommended!)but I was indulging in a spot of people watching as well.

In particular there was one guy who caught my eye. He was sat in a hard wooden dining chair, obviously oblivious to the world. So what was it that had him shutting out today so comprehensively?

On the wall, projected through a dodgy pinhole camera or something was the camera work of a 1950's immigrant, colour homemovie film projected onto a bare wall views of the coast from on board ship. Poorly shot and jiggly, they nonetheless triggered something in this guy, he was still there when we left half an hour later.

We were in Melbourne for the

"Comedy Festival Tm reg."

something of a tradition, or at least for the last couple of years.

Friday night, the Townhall and a double header of Dylan Moran and Ross Noble. Moran is probably mostly known as Bernard Black from Black Books, a Britcom that transcended anything else on tv for its all too brief lifespan. Moran did a short set, limited apparently by the need to make the audience stand in the rain whilst resetting the room for Noble. Chainsmoking and swigging from a handy bottle of beer, Moran launched into a quick fire examination of why we the audience were mad, and how he could fix us. Which he proceeded to do by making us laugh like drains for the sixty or so minutes he lumbered about the stage.

Highlights included a detailed exploration of the difference between the bulldozing mono dimensional argument of the chap, and the gazelle like, guerilla tactics of the chapette, and how this usually has but one outcome. Also stuff on religion, the pity felt by Catholics for Protestants who have but hymns and guilt to sustain them and the withering contempt for popular music of the prematurally mysanthropic Moran.

"Its a song, I remember the title, Funk Soul Brother, mainly because it is annoying, and it is also the whole lyric"

The set rips by, then we are arguing with the power mad poseur in the Green Staff T-Shirt who derives obvious gratification from the following.

"We have tickets for Ross Noble, can we wait here in the foyer?"
"No it is all allocated seating, so it would be chaos if we let you wait here"
"But"
"You will have to go out and join the queue.

So we stood in the pouring rain for half an hour mulling over the vacuity at the heart of Green Shirted idiots logic. How in God's name would we cause chaos by waiting in the dry? Take it a step further, given we were early, why should we have to wait until nearly last to get into the venue. Furthermore, two words

Service + customer, put them in any order you wish

Anyway, eventually we get back in.

Loud music, lights and wacky stage set.

On bounds a heavilly accented comedian in wacky clothing, who proceeds to start his show by talking about how hard it is to start. Then we get a riff on getting used to his habit of not remembering what he is saying, round it off with the "man with a limp walk" and the "gimp"voice and it comes as a shock to realise that we are not actually watching Billy Connolly at all, it is actually that other honorary Aussie comedian Ross Noble.

After much flogging of a joke about exploding vagina's by Noble, I am sitting there thinking Dylan Moran is restricted to one hour, but you can seemingly go til one of us dies?

Yeah we laughed, but were left wanting more of the Dylan Moran school of social observation and less clowning.

Outside it is still raining.

Next morning, quick walk up to Lygon Street, where eventually we find somewhere where we can get breakfast, Bacon, Eggs, Mushrooms - the good stuff in the University Cafe.

Into Readings, $160 and a copy of Sullivan's Travels later and we are wandering back towards the city.

Tonights agenda calls for some athleticism.

Tim Minchin at 7
The Kransky Sisters at 8 15
then faff about until
Rich Hall and Mike Willmot at 11 15

Minchin is in the archetypal smokey basement venue- the Hi Fi on Swanston Street.A mix of fantastic musicianship, witty songs and freewheeling stand up, he deserves to have the reputation of someone like Noble. Great songs include "I'm so #$R%ing Rock", a beat poem inspired by Elliot and the infuriatingly catchy "Canvas Bags" possibly topped by his anthem for peace in Palestine

lyric "we don't eat pigs, you don't eat pigs, let's not eat pigs together!"

Mysteriously, a babysitting grandpa has brought a three month old baby to the gig. Minchin, zeros in when the baby makes a sound, then spends the next half hour running a riff on the whole parenthood thing.

The guy is unmissable,so don't.

Then we have our own little chase scene, ripping through crowds, past guys named Ahmed who congregate outside of the 7-11 on Swanston, we screach to a halt outside the tented venue as the Kransky's are beginning.

Not sure about the Kransky Sisters,good musos, amusing idea etc.

Problem is, if you have seen "In Siberia Tonight" then you have seen the whole Kransky Sisters repetoire.

The only real difference is Arva gets a line, or at least to put down the Euphonium and scream.

Audience participation time and after much searching a chap called James is chosen.

Wacky coincidene, he just happens to be a presenter on one of the ABC's Lifestlye shows.

Labourious set up so the Kransky's can do Popcorn, then Highway to Hell and Long Way to the Top then outside for a quick merchandising opportunity.

Minchin wins the battle of the comedy bands.

We actually went into a Starbucks and bought very average Coffee, it was open and there was the slight problem of rain to deal with, OK!

Queue forms for Rich Hall, the bouncer gets us to move around a bit,lets people stay drier. Then he goes off somewhere and one of the stellar crew in Green Shirts appears and starts trying to throw her weight around.

"Why are there two queues?"
"Move here, move there"

To a consumer we ignored her. Yay for us!

We get let in, then for reasons known only to themselves, we end up in a crush on a flight of stairs whilst the basement room is empty. Let in late, the gig starts late.

On comes Rich Hall.

A true master of reading an audience. He very quickly gets us under control with some stuff about paddling to the gig in a kayak, then a long sequence on War on Terror, sharp observations in the inimitable Hall ranting style.

After a 45 minute set races by we are confronted with the sweaty smut of Canadian love god Mike Willmot. Close to the knuckle as it were, do not ask for I cannot say.
A scream nonetheless.

Quick improvised encore then out.

Pecking order?

Moran
Minchin
Hall
Noble
Kransky's

Outside is another interesting phenomenon. The steps of the Town Hall are obviously the place to be. Comics come and go, not talking of Michaelangelo. It's interesting to see the attitude. Bob Franklin scuttles past, head down and wary, followed by Rachael Berger looking stylish but low key.

On the steps is everyones favourite media personality Wil Anderson, seemingly doing erverything he can to schmooze, and or, be seen by the great unwashed. Wandering among the crowd, looking pleased to be there is Christina Davis, soi distant Big Brother contestant doing a one woman show. Dave Hughes tries to get into the building but is waylaid by a fan. She is tactile and gushy, he looks stoic. Dave Callan and one or two other familiar faces move quickly through the crowd, Anderson is still on the steps. While we are on the star spotting thing, Dylan Moran, Wife, Child and Stroller in hand were seen taking the air in Fed Square earlier in the day.

It was interesting to see people notice him, then deliberately try to be unobtrusive about their recognition.

Gotta say, in the queue, we strike up a conversation with our third codger couple of the weekend. These guys deserve some kind of award, fifteen shows a year at the festival, 12 30 in the morning it is pouring outside, we are in a smokey basement and a large Canadian is talking about the interface of fingers and bottoms during carnal congress. Our codgers are helpless with laughter like the rest of us.

Good on ya!

Editors Note This trip was not sponsored by the Melbourne Comedy Festival, cast and crew of Come Up Screaming choose to fly Virgin and stay wherever is cheap, especially the groovy little hotel in Bank Place with the free Foxtel!

The New Left?

Reflecting on my last garbled emission has led me further down the road towards "GOMBADS" or for those of you not inside me head "getting of my backside and doing something".

Listening to the Minister in charge of Amnesia, cuddly Lexi Downer reinforces this. If our government can be so cynical, so manipulative and such master dissemblers, surely a change is indicated.

I sit to the left, no secret there, so I guess I see something from that side of the scale as being my own personal "GOMBAD", but what?

I still favour the notion of a new politcal alignment, leave the rightists to Labor, merge Greens and Democrats into the "Greenacrats", but will this do the trick?

Not sure,

What do I want?

Here is the Caerdadh manifesto, feel free to shout at me, or ignore as you wish.

- Third World Debt, work towards its elimination, enforce the millenium goals.

- Choice, it is not my right to tell my Wife/Partner etc what to do with her reproductive system.

-Education, massively increase the funding. Get people who actually know what they are talking about to review curriculum. It is not a place for politicians

-Make it illegal to tie funding to other things for example the ridiculous, no flagpole no funding policy of the Liberal Government. Patriotism is illogical in a Globalised World.

-Burn the FTA's

-Massive tarrifs on sweatshop goods.

-Quality universal healthcare.

-Alternative Energy to form 30% of consumption in 20 years (sounds suspiciously like a policy)

-Revoke the current IR laws. Rewrite with the quaint old fashioned notion of fairness to the employee at their heart.

-The military is a tool of defence only.

-Anyone advocating Mandatory Detention should be placed in Mandatory Detention (can't help but feel the policy would go away very quickly, and don't give me the ridiculous "they might be terrorists" argument the 9/11 terrorists were in America legally, the UK bombers were citizens)

-Racial Vilification Laws

-Just say Sorry for God's sake!

-Aboriginal health to be a priority.

-Quality subsidised housing.

I might stop now, I feel all weak and dizzy.

Conversations with a Kenyan

I was chatting with someone from Kenya the otherday, and we were talking about her impressions of this country. I have to say that her impressions were mixed at best. In particular the issue was the difference between the impression Australia likes to project of itself, honest, tolerant, ethical and so on, and her perceived reality.

Subjects like David Hicks, West Papua, Mandatory Detention, Aboriginal Health and the Coalition of the Easilly Conned, WMD's and Kids Overboard all cropped up.

The upshot, that she would rather return home, with all of its problems, than be part of what she saw as an immoral culture.

I can see why one would think this, and there is some truth to it on a number of levels, but I refuse to believe that the majority of people in this country subscribe to this viewpoint.

If that is the case, then isn't there a demand for change?

If there is, how does one effect change?

Damned good question. There are avenues like the expiation of middle class guilt approach, buy organic, shout at the tele and sponsor a child in Ethiopia. Ultimately that leads to the frustration that my Kenyan friend was expressing.

Join a political party you say.

OK

Which one?

Lets use the Tony Benn notion of power through collective action at the Ballot Box. Fine except you can run as an independent, and have no genuine power or influence. YOu could join the Liberals or Labor and be submerged in the ridiculous factional politics and time seving that both parties (do not fall for the Liberal lie that it is only the LAbor Party that has these issues)go in for. Fine, but with the drift towards the cynicalism of the Neo Cons I don't see lasting change, positive change happening that way.

You are sitting there thinking, He's gonna say join the Greens or Democrats. Except I'm not, or at least not in their current form.

The problem with the left he says setting the world to rights in one sentence, is that is has allowed itself to become fragmented. Thinking about the offerings of the left and centre left in Australia, you have effectively two parties with similar policies, ideology and most importantly constituency in the Greens and Democrats.

Looking at the recent South Australian and Tasmanian elections, it is not beyond the realms of possibility to suggest that had the Greens and Democrats been one party, rather than a pair of competitors, then we could be looking at less presence for Family First in the very least, and in lower house seats, things may have been slightly different as well.

At to this the broad spectrum of angry Lefties out there, the huge anti war marches did happen you know, then there is a constituency waiting to be picked up.

Maybe it is time for the Greens and Democrats to bite the bullet and merge to form the basis of a new party. Then, the left wing of the Labor Party could move across, leaving the loquacious Kim to slide further into irrelevancy.

In all seriousness, the time has come for us to take a stand on the continuing abuses of civil rights, human rights and workers rights that we are expected to swallow. Time for the left to start reshaping itself, take on the right with a fresh policy agenda and a group of "stars" like Bob Brown, Natasha Stott Despoja, even Gillard and Smith and an attractive future will beckon.

Time for a Bex and a Good Lie Down.