Ben, the two of us need look no more

(image ganked from the net by someone with a better vantage point and camera than we had. Go here for more.)

Over the past decade, we've been to see Ben Lee, Ben Folds and last Friday night we completed our trifecta of Bens (yt) and caught Ben Kweller doing his thing at the Hyde Park Hotel. (A geographic note: the HPH is a five minute stroll down the road from ours - sometimes the mountain does move to Mohammed.)

Opening with "The Rules", Mr Kweller and the two other gentlemen that comprise his Trio performed a set of songs as preternaturally excellent as the man himself. He seemed appreciative of performing before a crowd whose intimate knowledge of his body of work (from "Falling" through to "Sundress") allowed him to let them do half his singing for him.

Unfortunately as Gem and I are both somewhat petite in stature, it was a little difficult to get a good constant squizzie. At certain points, the band sounded like there were definitely more than three of them onstage with Mr Kweller alternating between guitar and keyboards.

I was disappointed that "Wasted & Ready", (to me, his "Hello, I'm Ben and this is what I do" breakthrough hit) didn't make the setlist. Nevertheless, the man had no shortage of equally catchy power-poppy tunes to make up for it.

Sartorial appreciation note: loved the red jacket. Made him look like an Oompa-Loompa....or, if you like, a Kweller-Loompa.


/ducks

A Perfectly Cromulent World

Stop wasting your time here. Try some philanthropic boondoggling.

Howard, I Know If He Really Loves Me

Yesterday's news of our Dear Leader's perceived epiphany on Aboriginal reconciliation has been predictably welcomed with derision and contempt by SMH readers in their "Your Say" opinion box. Overall, most of the problem appears to lie (no pun intended) on Mr Howard's timing, which is seen as either ten years too late, or ten weeks too early to be considered a genuine change of heart.

Sometimes, these things are best expressed in verse and buried somewhere deep in the comments is this little gem from "axelnelson":

Under Shameful Stars

Whitey stole Australia,
killed blacks near and far,
johnny won't say sorry,
Under Shameful Stars.

Nation made of bigots,
ruled in fear by one,
all hail little johhny,
Under Shameful Sun.

Selfish heartless Nation,
born of Howard's hand,
greed our greatest virtue,
Shameful Southern Land.

Suckered into Battle,
lied to with contempt,
johnny's in on war crimes,
Shameful Southern Friend.

Nauru the death camp prison,
source of johnny's pride,
lifes nothing but disgraceful,
Under Shameful Skies.

Stumbling blind in darkness
Under Shameful Stars.

The provenance of the piece is unknown, unless it is indeed the work of axelnelson. If so, bravo. Whether it's an original or not (Google had nothing for this), it's as good an ode to the last decade of Federal Liberal governance as any.

Oh and the bastard STILL won't say "sorry".



PS On an unrelated note - 3 posts in as many days!! Holidays are rad.

Imogen has no hair, then...

Watching this (Youtubery) brought me back to the 90s. Not just the fond memory of an America before it went all green and "MERRKA SMASH!!" on us, but also the memory of an assembly held at one of my old schools as an inauguration for our new chaplain. This was back in '94 and on the agenda was a special item presented by the school choir - a rendition of Mr Lennon's imaginary sort-of-hymn.

It was a smart choice - a tune simple enough for even the most awkward of pubescent voices to carry in the midst of 30 others of similar timbre along with lyrics of a mildly radical sentiment bound to be received with grey nods of approval from aging baby-boomer staff members.

Except there's that bit where the listener is asked to not only imagine no country (what would Johnny Cash say?) but also: "and no religion, too."

As an audience member with a passing familiarity with Mr Lennon's body of work, I was waiting to hear a group of kids tell the chaplain what to do with her calling.... in song. However, our music teacher was a dear sweet soul whose intentions were essentially, good. Having anticipated the possible effrontery posed by the lyrics, he applied some judicious editing...

And so the line sung by our children came out as, "and no more fighting, too."

(which in turn reminds me of Mr Lennon himself applying some retrospective political correctness. In later years he would sing of "a brotherhood and sisterhood of man". Um, sisterhood of man?)

Incidentally, Mr Lennon would have been 67 years old two days ago.

Imagine that.

In Which Cary Admits to Being A Big Fat Lying McLiarpants

Yes, I am, indeed.

Having promised to continue blogging ahead after the travel tales and subsequently doing NOTHING AT ALL, I can only offer prostatey apologies to anyone who might have wasted a couple of clicks here expecting an update. I could also offer a feeble excuse about the rhythm of life and its various vicissitudes that have prevented me from updating this here blog but that would fall far short from a proper excuse, like the loss of a complete set of fingers or a comprehensive bout of amnesia that requires a special flashback episode of reminiscence.

Nevertheless, I'm still uncertain about the future of this blog. Ideally, I'll post something of interest once in a while but I don't think I can commit to a regular schedule.

Gem & I are currently planning a trip to Kuala Lumpur in January 2008 to use up some frequent flyer miles. I'm sure there'll be something to report then...