Archive for the ‘General Invective’ Category
Dear Channel Ten and the producers of Before the Game,
Settling down in front of the TV for the Eagles last night, I tuned in to the best footy show on the box: Before the Game. Good job on that show! Unlike other footy shows, it isn’t self serious and doesn’t rely on fabricated controversy or inflated egos. It’s funny, and full of exuberance for AFL footy. Last night’s 30 minute episode was no exception. Kevin Rudd receiving “Tool of the Week” for handballing like a girl and calling himself “The Ruddster” was a highlight.
Just one thing. At the end of the show, as the credits rolled, host Andrew Maher yelled out the result of the Eagles v North Melbourne match, which had just finished at Subiaco. Great! Everyone loves live results. Everyone, that is, except for a few hundred thousand Perth viewers, who were waiting for the delayed telecast of the match and had scrupulously avoided finding out the score in order to keep it interesting.
I was one of those Perth viewers. Like so many other Eagles’ supporters, I naively enjoyed last night’s Before the Game with my glass of Chardonnay and looked forward to another promising performance from the Eagles’ youngsters. That is, before Maher exploded my bubble by shouting “West Coast by 38 points over North Melbourne” seconds before the telecast started. I can only liken the psychological impact of Maher’s betrayal to the traumatic realisation, at the tender age of 5, that there was no Father Christmas. I felt robbed, deceived, and powerless.
So thanks for killing the potential for any excitement in what turned out to be a thoroughly boring match.
Look, I don’t have a PhD in live television. But I do remember an old trick Channel 7 used to great effect. It went something like: “If you don’t want to know the scores, look away now”. It was crude – but undeniably effective. Maybe you guys have a more sophisticated way to prevent such monumental cock ups. I don’t know. All I know is that Father Christmas isn’t visiting on December 25, or ever again.
Accordingly, I write to implore that Maher and the autocue operator responsible for this outrage be dubbed the round 21 Tools of the Week.
I look forward to your reply.
Tango and Cash, 1989. Spoiler alert: Tango and Cash start out hating one another but become friends.
Spoiler alert: I started out hating this review and continued to hate this review all the way to the end. I recommend you stick with Uncle Mac’s original version:
Wikipedia describes this flick as an “action/comedy”. It’s more like ‘comedy in the action’. With the comedy purely accidental, and thus, tragically hilarious. Of course any film involving Sly Stallone is gonna be funny, that goes without saying. But a buddy-cop film with one of the most over actor-ing actors in the biz (Kurt Russell) + Sly is a recipe for a good ol’ fashion 80’s abortion.
By the way, in a surpring about-face (and a shameless bit of self-promotion on our part), The Punch saw fit to let us link to The Dullsvillain today. Before you eat your hat, though, check the disclaimer inserted into our comment by the moderator:
(ed’s note: contains strong language)
Ba-ha-ha. Apparently, “Australia’s Best Conversation” doesn’t include any naughty words. The Punch, to quote Uncle Mac, are fairy flossed wowsers.
A video of a Perth train guard tasering himself in the leg for a laff has been leaked to Channel 10. Watch it here.
The guard involved, who lost his job, now says he was a victim of peer pressure. Because grown men employed to protect the public inflict serious injury on themselves to avoid being called “chickenshit”. That’s how peer pressure works now.
Transit guards have pepper spray, batons and handcuffs, but they don’t have tasers. This one was illegally imported. However, less than a month ago, the Australian Rail, Tram and Bus Industry Union demanded 50,000 volt tasers for every sub-intellect in the bunch.
You gotta love the timing, which recalls a toddler pissing in the bed the last night before he’s allowed to go without a nappy.
The Union isn’t backing off. Quoth the mouthpiece:
I think it just highlights the requirement for proper training prior to the issuance of this equipment.
See? You need to give morons unsafe weapons before morons can learn to use them responsibly. Like the old saying goes, you have to electrocute a few people to make omelette.
In Dullsville news, the Town of Vincent wants nightlife to Shut The Fuck Up, punk.
There’s a good piece on WA Today from Chris Thomson, some guy who’s apparently had a lot of contact with local councils and hates them accordingly. Highlights:
I observed with horror as a Mt Hawthorn pensioner was forced to open his home to council officials who had accused him of fertilising his cottage garden with his own poo. The local bureaucrats found no evidence of this, nor of any health breaches at the home, but the offensive allegation was minuted for all the world to see…
Earlier this year, the ‘City’ of Subiaco tried to ban a group of young blokes from playing ping pong in the privacy of their own home…
[The real question is] what is the best size of councils to get them out of our nightspots, away from our ping pong tables and off our backs?
He also points out that the Libs appear to be backing away from their threat to force councils to amalgamate. You can’t put Dullsville in a corner.
Stephen Evans’ piece on The Punch today, “Is Australia too immature to examine its racism”, featured a laughably phoney introduction and a really dumb conclusion. I pointed this out in the following comment:
“G’day, mate! Strewth. Did you hear what Kevin said about that Mexican and his amigos. Gave it to him straight, cobber, like a true blue Aussie. Senor Sol won’t be going walkabout near our billabong any time soon.
Offensive, isn’t it?”
This is an offensively boring way to begin a 500 word whinge, but I have no idea how it’s offensive in any other way.
And how does this work:
“A confident people might have shrugged and smiled – and quietly engaged in a little self-questioning.”
A confident people might have pretended not to care but secretly wondered whether they hurt someone’s feelings? Huh?
Notice how I signed off with a link to my blog, The Dullsvillain. You published my comment but deleted the link. Thanks, jerks.
I don’t know what made me hope that a blog which plasters the tag-line “Australia’s best conversation” in its header might actually support the exchange of ideas in its comments. I mean, your boss, Rupes, is on the public record against free internet news, so god forbid someone clicks a link in your comments which leads them away from your site, potentially costing News Corporation up to 0.03 cents in advertising revenue.
Or is it just that you employ the same moderator-monkey as news.com.au and Perthnow? What a job that guy has, deleting links to struggling blogs, censoring criticism of his superiors, and clogging the internet with hate-filled rants.
Go punch yourself in the head.
Ps, I’ve posted this letter on The Dullsvillain, and included a link to The Punch. You’re welcome.
I won’t front, daylight savings is pretty alright. It’s daylight. It needs to be saved. Who will save DAYLIGHT?
We know who will save daylight. The people of Perth, them and their yes votes. Them and their yes votes and their ability to get together on the South Perth foreshore next to the car park with a dozen bored friends and stand in the shape of a moderately large “YES”.
Whoops. I think the unemployed person who organised this actually wanted to spell “YIKES” but didn’t have enough friends for the extra letters. We’re gonna need a bigger Yikes.
This was shown on the channel 7 news headlines late last night but doesn’t appear to be anywhere on the internet this morning except for the Daylight Savings in Western Australia facebook. Politics!
Remember phil ‘from the ‘burbs’ haberland who writes for the sunday times?
Turns out when he says ‘burbs’ he actually means the western suburbs.
Yes indeed. he writes a column in the western suburbs weekly.
What a phoney.
He’s their big gun contributer. coming in at first drop on page 2 in their batting line up.
His column this week was whinging about how he couldn’t get his fagoty luxury mixture of egyptian dried nuts, herbs & spices at the new claremont quarter, called ‘dukkahs’.
And yes, he did actually give this dried food ‘dukkahs’ a capital D in the heading.