This will hurt me...

  Bass Strait is blue today. Sisters Beach, Tasmania. January 2021. Monkey Grip by Helen Garner Credit must go to Helen Garner for her frank reflections on her own choices and desires in this semi-autobiographical novel. She conjures up a Melbourne long-since gone, and a world of a bohemian vision of life filled with excess, collectivism and the withering away of norms like monogamy, patriarchy and the jingoistic nature of Australians. As I say, this is a time long gone. Garner writes well and with frankness and empathy that is to be admired. Yet despite her best efforts, the appeal of Javo – which is the central premise driving the book – utterly eluded me. I could see nothing of the charm, beauty, intelligence or love in the man. Even in the frank descriptions of the sex – and there is no shortage of fucking in this book, with Javo and others in this milieu of rootless artists – didn’t help explain the obsession. The novel consists of days repeating days. Swimming and drug...

Someone is playing silly buggers! Regent Street, Sandy Bay. September 2011. My Top Five Words Favourite Words [Today] The Don't Have A Direct English Translation! Mamihlapinatapei A Yagan word for the wordless, yet meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to start. Jennifer and I know this look all too well... Ilunga A Tshiluba word that describes a person who is ready to forgive and forget any first abuse, tolerate it the second time, but never forgive nor tolerate on the third offense. It is safe to say that I am not really an ilunga . Torschlusspanik A lovely German word that literally translates as “gate-closing panic,” but contextually, it implies the fear of diminishing opportunities as one ages. How very appropriate! Ya’aburnee One from Arabic now, a lovely little word that basically means “You bury me”. The desire for burial reflects the hope that one will die before one's partner because of how difficult it would...

Television ads are a very sparse feature of the Ads That I Like feature on this blog, primarily because they are always disappearing from YouTube. That risk aside, like the glorious Estonian Soviet-era ad featuring MEAT MEAT MEAT , I can't resist including this pearler from that place of supreme oddity, Japan. What is the first thing that you think when you hear the word noodle? Why this, I'm sure! Man those Japanese must have some pretty cool drugs...

Here is a photo of Tasmania Police's Hobart HQ right in the middle of town. Following on from the earlier post, ABC radio have had a story on loop all day saying how I have “ criticised ” Tasmania Police’s decision to utilise sniffer dogs at an upcoming music festival. I guess that I have, but I thought that what I offered was far more constructive than. I’d like to think that I have an excellent working relationship with the local constabulary. I certainly think that they do a good job more generally. But the thing with the gigs and the sniffer dogs is that it just isn’t very effective. The ABC quoted Tasmanian Police as saying they have a “no tolerance” rule for all drug users at the festival, but that doesn’t fit with how they deal with drug users in a general sense. Public policy is not a neat, simple business, and it generally doesn’t fit with black and white visions of how things work, so in this sense, I don’t envy the police when it comes to something like drug use. The law...

Today's ad is a pearler. Like a lot of advertisements today, it's aimed at the littlies, in this case toothache drops in 1885. Of course, we're not wasting our time with cloves and the like. No, these drops have a bit more of a kick to 'em. Not only was the medicine likely to dull the pain, but help put the user in a "better" mood, fire them up, enhance their sex drive, facilitate some poor choices regarding personal appearance, destroy their marriages and encourage them to make really, really self-indulgent music involving lengthy guitar solos and synthesized horns.

As someone who does most of the cooking in this household, pulls his weight with the children and is far more inclined towards OCD with regards cleaning than my wife, I wonder what role the modern wife plays. Casting my gaze over these vintage advertisements, one can see why conservitive talk show hosts and former Australian Prime Ministers long for the 'golden age' of sexual politics. Why, this little old blog has featured women cooking , cleaning , reclining in a bikini , preparing multiple salad dressings , ensuring clean drains , helping the war effort , being pleasantly useless , ensuring their 'feminine hygiene' is adequate , unable to resist arseholes , pushing men to the end of their tether , gardening in uncomfortable-looking shorts , taking a beating and enjoying it and entertaining the troops . So I ask again, what role the modern woman? Surely not that envisaged by ad number fifty sums it up? Say it ain't so ladies!

I am not totally sure what this vintage French advertisement is selling, however I very much like the design. While I am certain that it is really about smash-proof glass or motor oil or some such, I have my own little interpretation of what it might be, based on the steely resolve in the eyes of the fellow in the ad. Triplex Amphetamines for busy people If you have to be somewhere in a hurry, try Triplex amphetamines We will get you there!

We are rapidly approaching advertisement number fifty, so I am going to have to find a pearler for that! Today though, we are back to one of the many, many ads that feature our feminine friends (kind of like “our feline friends”, except with ladies instead of cats). I like this one very much, but am extremely disappointed that Mornidine, a drug once prescribed for morning sickness, was withdrawn for public consumption in 1969. My wife and I have not spoken at great length about it, but I am reasonably certain that her inability to get up and cook me a full and hearty breakfast each day was Jennifer’s greatest concern that arose from her bout of morning (all day) sickness. More distressingly for everybody concerned was the effect her queasiness contributed to the reaction of Henry, the caveman toddler , who – in the main – becomes livid when his needs are not catered for instantaneously. In the failure to adequately fulfil her matrimonial and motherly duty, Jennifer herself was quite up...

I cannot believe that Collingwood are trying to spin the Alan Didak story as one with him as 'victim'. The same thing with Ben Cousins, by all accounts, he'll be playing next week. I support the AFL's drug policy, but the key point is that Cousins flouted that policy by deliberately avoiding his drug test. Anyone does that, you are obliged to assume that they're on the worst substance and whack 'em with at least 18 weeks. Anything less, and your drug testing proceedures mean nothing. Essendon won last night and sit fifth, we haven't had any scandels which is good, but by got footy is in a crappy place right now.

So Bjarne Riis has confessed to what many long suspected: he was doping when he won the 1996 Tour de France. Coupled with Eric Zabel's admissions, some see it either as a sad day for cycling or a triumph for good over evil. I would have thought that winning the tour is a great achievement whether on the gear or not. Let's not fool ourselves, most of the top teams have had access to 'training aides' since the very beginning, whether it was ether to dull the pain at the beginning of the twentieth century, amphetamines in the 1950s or EPO today. The whole notion of a few bad apples is utter nonsense and reeks of 'head in the sand'. Open it up and let them go for it, I reckon.