Here is our Christmas tree, made of the finest, sturdiest green plastic. It’s not a huge Christmas tree (relatively miniscule, in fact), but it does the job. It’s more-or-less adequate for the number of gifts that will find their way under it in the next couple of weeks.
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Obviously this relates primarily to Australian media, and from my point of view as spokesman for a community lobby organisation in my copious spare time. This isn’t a Media Watch-style exposé, but hopefully it’s of interest to somebody out there.
Jeremy is so taken by the Knight Bus scene in Harry Potter 3 that he’s recreated it on the computer. He’s found a little applet thingy on the HP web site that plays various Lenny Henry Shrunken Head quotes periodically, and has that running while he plays Midtown Madness 2, in London, driving around a double-decker bus coloured blue, while shouting things like “Yeah yeah take it away Ernie!” and “Little old lady at 12 o’clock!” in his version of a Jamaican accent.
I’ve started receiving and sending out Christmas cards. Current tally is In: 2, Out: 4.
8pm update: Another card received. Maybe I should put these up. Like, in place of those old birthday cards from August…
Mural, Canterbury Street, Yarraville.
(Hands up who remembers the red rattler trains?)
Amusing things from the last few days…
The other week, listening to the radio, hearing the host condemning Critical Mass for daring to protest, then almost in the same breath talking about the anniversary of the Eureka Stockade, and the wonderful spirit of rebellion it invoked.
Bloke in suit at Caulfield Station who jumped off the stopper to Mordialloc on platform 2. The announcement had said an express would be along on the same platform just after it. Evidently what he thought he heard it say was that the train sitting on platform 3 was an express. Actually that was going back in the opposite direction. He ignored the platform sign, the sign inside the carriage, and boarded it anyway. Probably got a shock when it started moving.
A kid at a tram stop, being held by his dad, either in a coma or fast asleep, flat as a board, both floppy and rigid at the same time.
Cars queued up to turn right at the intersection near my mum’s place. Why? Because the old guy at the top of the queue had stopped about 2 metres before the stop line, clear of the sensor to trigger the right turn arrow. Here’s a hint, motorists: stop at the stop line. Not before it, not over it blocking the ped crossing. The sensor will see your car there, and you’ll be on your way quicker.
Coupling, one of the better Gen-X sitcoms (funnier than Friends, more “adult” than Seinfeld) is back on TV on Monday nights. I like this show, though not, as one bright spark suggested, because it’s about trains. ‘Cos it isn’t. I like it so much I whinged to the Green Guide about it when almost two years they dragged it off air in the middle of a two part story.
Wish I’d noticed its return last week, but it was only a repeat of that last fateful episode. I was organised enough to catch some of tonight’s episode on-air, the rest on tape, all accompanied by my ironing and laughter.
Bought that USB drive on Friday. Ate Mexican on Friday night with good friends. Saw Brett from Kath & Kim (Peter Rowsthorn) in the street on Saturday. Almost bought a house on Sunday.
Also saw Spider-Man 2 on DVD. Probably lost a lot in its transition to the small screen. Merciless in its references to the first one (this franchise has got DVD box set written all over it). Also another blatant lead-in to the next one. I spent much of the time trying to remember what else I’d seen Alfred Molina in.
The silly train scene had two of us shouting in unison “what about the dead-man’s handle?!” Any sillier than the rest of it though? Maybe not.
I also fail to see why Ock decided he needed money to build his machine. What was he going to do, rob the bank, then head down to Bunnings to buy supplies, with his eight arms, like nobody would recognise him and scream? (I find the whole mutant cyborg thing a bit gruesome, myself.)
But all that said, plenty of laughs (the busker was hilarious), some action, and some moral dilemmas thrown in. A very enjoyable film.
In a little-used corner of the kitchen table lies the fruitbowl. Okay, so it’s dominated by bananas most of the time.
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