Coronation Cookers

 I watched some of the coronation of King Charles III. I was out for most of it because my son and I attended a local high school's production of We Will Rock You (and my, we have some talented kids in this area!), which meant I missed seeing the headgear being officially plonked on the royal scone, but that's what social media is for: catching up on bits you missed. 

Unfortunately, social media has the side effect of making it obvious that there really are some utterly imbecilic fatheads out there. There was a torrent of comments about Diana being the rightful queen. Um, how do I break this to you people? I will type this as gently as I can, but not so gently the keys don't depress, thus causing no letters to appear on my screen. Are you sitting down? Comfy? Ready for this? Okay - *deep breath in, exhaling forcefully* - Diana is not the rightful queen and cannot be so because she is no longer with us, and has not been since 1997. Another thing, in case you clodpoles missed it: Charles and Diana were divorced. She was no longer the wife of the heir, which from my sketchy understanding of monarchical constitution, means she was not eligible to be crowned. Much of the hue and cry stemmed from the relationship between Charles and Camilla, whilst he was still married to Diana. Well, folks, Diana cheated in the marriage, too. Get over it and quit with the sickening hagiography of the poor woman already! There were no winners in this situation and they're all human beings with flaws, so stop with the judgement and accept that Charles and Camilla love each other. Or else cry about it, if you must. 

Similarly, every gronk in a tinfoil hat has offered a criticism or theory about Prince Harry: He was seated next to Anne so the feather in her hat would obscure him. He was scowling at Princess Charlotte. He was scowling at Prince William. He was planning to put a whoopee cushion on the throne (okay, I made that one up just to show the ludicrousness of the theories I've been reading). Listen, just because someone has a serious expression on his face doesn't mean he is deliberately scowling, okay? You might as well say everybody in the building was scowling because everyone was looking serious. It was a solemn event, and if he smiled, you'd all say he was being disrespectful and smirking! And if he WAS scowling, it was probably because he was stuck in the same row as his slimy Uncle Andy. 

I wish people would stop wearing these tinfoil hats. Change your hats. But don't get one like the monstrosity atop Julie Bishop's head. What the hell WAS that thing?! 

Is It A Bad Look?

I'm going to ask a question here: does it matter that Prime Minister Albanese has planned to attend the nuptials of Kyle Sandilands today? He's been invited to the wedding and accepted the invitation, but there are many who believe this is, to say the least, a Bad Look. Is it a Bad Look in the way Eighties shoulder pads teamed with geometric haircuts and Kabuki-style cosmetic application is a Bad Look? Is it a Bad Look in the way a pink plastic flamingo surrounded by a phalanx of cavorting garden gnomes in the front yard is a Bad Look? Nah, I guess it's a Bad Look in that it's controversial company.

For the record, I think Kyle Sandilands is a loathsome scraping of toenail jam with a level of talent bordering on negligible to non-existent. He makes simply offensive comments. I understand his groomsmen include John Ibrahim. 

But - is Albo responsible for the guest list? I'm guessing no. If the guest list includes convicted criminals, then one can reasonably assume their attendance today is their right as currently free or bailed citizens, as per our laws. I too have attended a wedding where the guest included people with criminal convictions and was seated at the same table. The world kept turning. Yeah, I know; I'm not the prime minister.  

Does Sandilands himself have a criminal record? I don't know and don't care to google it right now. I'm guessing if he does, then it would be a relatively minor or summary offence, or the details would have come to my mind straight away. 

But does Albanese's attendance, as per his right, at the wedding of a loudmouthed and controversial shock jock constitute a Bad Look? Right now, I am thinking of the infamous photograph taken of Murray Farquhar as he enjoyed a day at the races in the company of George Freeman. I think the Chief Stipendiary Magistrate, as Farquhar then was, consorting with a known criminal does equate to a Bad Look. However, does a prime minister sipping bubbles and nibbling canapes at a function to celebrate the wedding of some overrated slob, who has nefarious acquaintances, also deserve to be lumped under the umbrella that has 'Bad Look' in bold lettering? I cannot answer that one.

The thing that has really got me scratching my head is that this event suggests there is someone who would actually want to marry Kyle Sandilands. 

NDIS Narkiness & Trivia Testiness

 Did everyone have a nice Good Friday? Mine was good and bad. I wasn't working today and planned to finish an assessment for university. But Madam Universe had other plans and I had to drive my son to a train station some ninety kilometres away because our burg has very limited services at the best of times, let alone public holidays. He missed the sparrow's-fart service, so it was good old Mum-Uber to the rescue. However, after dropping him at the station I met a friend for coffee, so I ended up enjoying my day out. The assessment remains unfinished, but I am fed up with it for now.

Similarly, I am fed up with Pauline Hanson. Oh, we know she is just ripe fodder for the piss to be taken, but One Nation's latest antics have really boiled my piss. They like to share animated satirical videos and the latest one leaves me speechless. It addresses what her dopey-arsed party think of the NDIS scheme and manages to punch down on vulnerable people and sneer about some of the services accessed via this scheme. Those services include sex workers, and to this end, they depict Greens Senator Jordan Steele-John (a wheelchair user), in the company of two sex workers. Who gives a flying one if he DOES avail himself of these services, provided they don't contradict whatever he is preaching? 

Naturally, the people agreeing with the video are using examples like this to galvanise their argument: 'I know of someone who uses funding to go to Dungeons and Dragons Club.' Um, how do I put this? I will run with so fucking what? 

People are always griping about what services NDIS recipients are accessing. 'I don't want my taxes going on this or that' seems to be the argument du jour. Look, that argument is a facile one. There will always be something with which someone has issue. A person on NDIS could, in theory, use an escort. Someone might seek a crystal wand healing session. Someone might have a driver provide transport to a horse racing event, which is an activity to which some people take moral objection. You cannot please everyone all the time. If a business has an ABN, provides a lawful service, and is registered with NDIS through the appropriate channels, then what's the problem? Let people have things. It won't affect your life. 

This reprehensible video just reinforces my theory that Hanson is a toxic bag of dirt, low enough to parachute from a snake's arse and still have time to free fall. 

Something else has boiled my urine, but not to the astronomical boiling point caused by One Nation, It's the team whose score sheet I marked at trivia the other night. At my weekly trivia game, the teams mark each other's sheets each round. It's a good system because we get the game over more quickly. Anyway, the other night, the hostess asked the name of Prince Harry's Netflix docuseries. It's Harry and Meghan. I have watched a couple of episodes, but it bored the shit out of me, and I haven't returned to it. Anyway, the next table wrote 'Meghan and Harry'. That's incorrect, and I marked it accordingly. When the hostess had collected the sheets and tallied the scores, that table believed they had been dudded a point. They demanded their answer be noted as correct, and the hostess capitulated. Well, that left me one snarky trivia player. I turned around and started to sing: 'Babe...I got you, babe...', and asked them whom I was trying to be. Someone replied, 'Cher'. I agreed, but asked for the full name of the attributed artists. They duly replied the singers were Sonny and Cher, to which I triumphantly responded, 'Yes! Sonny and Cher, not Cher and Sonny! Get my point?'

I think my tactics embarrassed my teammates, comprising my son and his mate, but there is a principle at stake here.

(Fat) Suit-Ability

 

I’m working today, so I did what I normally do: a few yoga stretches, physio exercises for my bung knee, brewed a strong cappuccino, and went through the typical morning ablutions. The ablutions included applying deodorant. I’m not going to tell you the brand, because I’m not here to spruik for that organisation, but I will tell you what brand it was not, and that was Dove. I will also tell you what brand deodorant is unlikely to grace my pits or what brand body wash is unlikely to cleanse my form under the shower spray, and – you guessed it! – that brand is: Dove.

Why am I picking on Dove, you might be wondering. Okay, wonder no more. I am avoiding Dove simply because they have really fucking annoyed me. And how have they annoyed me; I hear you ask. The answer is simple: they’ve put shit on the decision for Brendan Fraser to be awarded this year’s Oscar for his portrayal of a morbidly obese man in the film The Whale.

Dove, just so we’re clear here: the fat suit did not win the award, Brendan did. For ACTING. Dove have joined the call that such a role should have gone to a suitably obese actor. Okay, I didn’t actually go through with that law degree and I’m sure the former Lucifer below has his own consigliere, but I’m about to play Devil’s Advocate here, and put forward these arguments to Dove, and everyone else who states a morbidly obese actor should have been cast in the role.

Argument the First: How do you know the studios did NOT put out a call for overweight actors?

Argument the Second: The character being played by Fraser balloons out to a frightening 600 pounds. That’s over 272 kilograms. That’s approximately 43 stone. That is, yes, morbidly obese. Let’s have a look at that word ‘morbid’. It is associated with death and disease. A person that heavy will be plagued with and drowning in health issues, so do you believe such an actor could cope with the demanding and gruelling schedule of filming?

Argument the Third: Given the health issues of this hypothetical actor, do you think there must MIGHT be some issues with obtaining insurance for the set? The insurers might not be willing to underwrite the production.

Argument the Fourth: The on-set adjustments for OH & S, together with lack of available insurance, could make it just not worth casting a person who is 600 pounds, as unpalatable and un-PC as that may sound.

Argument the Fifth: Brendan Fraser is an ACTOR. Actors do this thing called ACTING. By all accounts, he did a bloody good job. He has been through a difficult time, having experienced unwanted sexual attention from producers and been blacklisted. Let him enjoy his Oscar without shitting on his achievements.

Argument the Sixth: The suit and prosthetics worn by Fraser have been created by artisans who also received accolades for their achievements. This means employment for them.

Argument the Seventh: Movies are an art form that involve making illusions real. This particular movie involved an actor with makeup and prosthetics. Deal with it.

Argument the Eighth: Do you expect producers to cast real zombies and real murderers in films that deal with such subject matter?

I recently submitted an assessment for uni wherein I had to design a four-week unit for Year 11 English. One of my lessons involves the students debating the question that if a character is diverse, should only actors with that diversity be cast or should art for art’s sake always apply? It’s an interesting conundrum and one which I believe will encourage the critical thinking we want in our young people. I wonder what my hypothetical students would say about this situation. I’ve said my piece.

Dove, stick to your toiletries, okay?

Censoring Dahl & Naff Disco Choons

 I know I'm a bit behind the 8-ball posting this NOW, but I've been thinking about the actions taken by the publishers Puffin to the classic Roald Dahl books to bring them into line with modern-day sensibilities. Hang on, I might have typed that wrong. Perhaps what I should have written is this: arse-hattery carried out by some numpties in charge of a publishing house to cater to a trend of pussy-arsed sookery. 

This less than admirable accomplishment was achieved by hiring sensitivity readers, which is apparently the polite term for pussy-arsed sooks who can't read for context or nuance, and who have no functioning resilience to cope with the world. They do not know the power of the correct adjective, by which I mean the Oompa-Loompas are now 'small' and not 'tiny'. August Gloop is no longer 'fat'. He is described as 'enormous', but the word 'fat' was removed. Apparently, someone hit the global search-and-replace function and eliminated the word 'fat' from every original occurrence in the book. 

Seriously, what ails you people? August Gloop is FAT. That's Eff Ay Tee FAT. Fat. He's a fat-fat-the-water rat. He eats constantly, and furthermore, eats the wrong food constantly. He pigs into unhealthy fattening foods, and whilst I do not claim to hold any credentials that would qualify me as a dietitian, I have been around the sun enough times to know that if you binge and gorge on fattening foods, you're going to end up fucking fat, okay? Deal with it. 

Yesterday, I was reminded of the Joe Tex disco song Ain't Gonna Bump No More (With No Big Fat Woman). I'm adopting a vulture-like crouch of embarrassment as I type this: I - shhhhhh! - like that song. It has some great funk delivered with a gravelly voice juxtaposed with the naffest concept imaginable: this dude is at the disco and finds himself the unwilling partner of some she-behemoth who wants to do the then-fashionable dance The Bump. Being corpulent and enthusiastic, she delivers a bump of a force that apparently sends him airborne, whereupon he crashes down and almost breaks his hip. Don't judge me. It's funny, okay? Anyway, these sensitivity readers would be screeching for a red pen as they slash through the lyrical fat-shaming like sugar cane cockies going through a crop. 

But on the bright side, I have just read Penguin and Puffin have backed down after the backlash. As for hiring sensitivity readers, why not just have a disclaimer that the work contains material that does not align with the company's cultural inclusive values and/or may contain material that could be in today's world be considered culturally insensitive? 

If you're reading something that is giving you the icks, either put it down or learn to contextualise. Lave the original art alone! Would you draw eyebrows on the Mona Lisa because it might upset people who don't have eyebrows? Pffffft! 

The Macerated Arse Cheeks of one Member

 I don't have it in front of me, and wouldn't sully my fingers with anything he'd touched, but I'm guessing Peter Poulos MP's To-Do list reads something like: Chemist - Betadine and opsite bandages. Why would Poulos need Betadine and opsite bandages, you ask? Well, it's to treat his macerated arse cheeks. I am aware nobody wants to contemplate Poulos' arse cheeks, but they have been chewed and gnawed to pulpy shreds by his own pathetic actions in circulating nude pictures of a political candidate in 2018, in an attempt to discredit her. Yes, his nasty stunt is now biting him on the arse like a row of frenetic Pac-mans, all going chomp-chomp-chomp like the clappers. 

I have read numerous calls for Poulos to be charged under revenge porn laws, but from what I can tell, the pictures that were circulated were in the public domain, having been featured in a Penthouse magazine pictorial in the 1980s. It's unlikely the woman concerned owns the rights to those images so therefore had no 'consent' to give in their circulation. She's moved on, going so far as to claim she and Poulos are mates. Madam, if you're reading this, take it from me: Poulos is NOT your mate. He's a grubby backstabber out for himself. 

Poulos probably hasn't broken the law. However, he has shown himself to be a venal, malicious, sexist, nasty, spiteful shit stain in the underpants of humanity. He apologised for making a 'regrettable mistake'. Poulsie, let me clarify something for you. This is not a regrettable mistake. A regrettable mistake is misreading a recipe and putting in one tablespoon of chilli powder instead of the one teaspoon sought by the recipe. (As an aside, I've done this and it's not fun). This was a vile and calculated attempt to destroy a woman's reputation in the pettiest way possible. I'm guessing your then boss didn't have the right stuff for a deserved meritorious win, so you chose to attack another candidate using the most disgusting weapon available to you: The Reputation Destroyer. You thought you could get her to back down by attacking her for having the unholy temerity to make her own choice and pose nude in a magazine. Whether you agree with her actions or not is immaterial; her actions were LEGAL. 

I'm trying to establish how old you are, but if you're in my age bracket, you might think of a ditty from high school: Centerfold by J Geils Band. You remind me of the incel-like narrator who takes the high moral ground over someone who's decided, for whatever reason, to partake in a nude pictorial. The narrator of this song admits at the end he's going to buy the magazine (hypocrite!). I don't know you well enough, but I would not be surprised if you jerk off to the material created by the people whom you seem quick to criticise. If you do find arousal in visual erotica, that's no issue to me. What I do have issue with is your hypocrisy and utter nastiness. 

Anyway, your disgusting behaviour didn't work, did it? The woman got voted in and now everybody just thinks you're a spiteful dingleberry swinging around in the hairs that surround Satan's butt crack. 

Slut-shaming as a weapon is ineffectual, as it should be. Women can make choices and you can just suck it. 

You're not fit to hold office Kindly resign. And flatten the edges of those opsite bandages so they don't peel away too quickly. 

The Urine is Heating

 Okay, I'd been reading about it on Twitter, but with uni, assessments, and work, I hadn't had the chance to view first screening or the repeat. Anyway, let's hear it for iView, where I have just finished viewing last Monday night's episode of Four Corners, you know, the one that explored the practices in the Opus Dei run schools Tangara and Redfield. 

Assuming the veracity of the content is reliable, then what can I say? Holl-lee fuck comes to mind. What is wrong with a school and teaching body that would willingly feed blatant misinformation to impressionable students? The funding given to those schools, who discourage girls from receiving the vaccine against HPV on the grounds it will encourage promiscuity, is far more obscene than any of the pornography they warn against (porn apparently burns holes in the brain, y'see). 

If any of you wank-socks who determine Opus Dei school policy are reading this, can I just point out a few things?

1. I'm not a neurologist, but I'm pretty confident that watching pornography will not cause holes to materialise in the brain like tired old rubber perforating in the sun. Were this true, there would be an awful lot of people getting around with brains like Swiss cheese. 

2. I am not a pharmacologist or endocrinologist, but I'm similarly confident the HPV vaccine does not contain an ingredient that renders the vaccinated lass a raving nympho with a sexual appetite of voracity and ferocity usually associated with stud stallions that have been given a dose of Viagra. It just doesn't happen, okay? 

This is a potentially life-saving vaccine and you're worried some young women might interpret it as carte blanche to bang a few dudes? Stop getting your information and logic from Barnaby Joyce (who opposed Gardasil on the same grounds), but more importantly, STOP POLICING PEOPLE'S SEXUALITY! 

I'm currently working towards a Bachelor of Education (Secondary), and along with teaching English in a fun and efficient manner, I want to create a classroom where the students feel safe and respected. So, guess what I WON'T be doing? That's right, I will not be having the students pass around a piece of sticky tape, such exercise being underpinned by the notion that just as the tape loses its efficacy and value and becomes dirty with excessive handling; so too do girls who are handled by more than one sexual partner. There are better ways to teach a metaphor, and those ways are not potentially harmful and confusing to the psyche of young people. 

I guess it's a tired trope to whinge about the funding these schools receive, but a few years ago, my son asked could he borrow my tired, battered, loved copy of To Kill a Mockingbird because his school (a State school that doesn't teach this poison and respects student diversity) did not have sufficient copies for the students. The thought that places who compare kids to sticky tape and teach misinformation receive serious coin just, to put it bluntly, boils my piss.