As I write this, the French are detonating nuclear bombs in the Pacific. And so, this week’s moron of the week is Jacques Chirac, who has defied world opinion and common sense, and gone ahead with the first of the new series of French nuclear tests. Why? Well, no-one’s really sure.
Actually, today we saw some demonstrators outside the French consulate here in Melbourne. Yep, the full bit. The white plastic suits, the banners, the street theatre, the conga lines, the flannelette shirts, everything. Some shouting, waving banners, and generally blocking up the street outside. After about half an hour the crowd started to disperse, so I figured either the French announced a change of heart… or the people got tired. The latter, I think.
This Helen Dimidenko/Darville case has got me wondering. Think football. Robert Dipierdeminico(*) – is that HIS real name?? Is the "Big Dipper" actually Bob Darville from Yorkshire?
Hands up how many of you have babies. Have you seen the Jolly Jumper? For those not familiar with it, it’s a kind of thing that attaches the baby to the door jamb by a spring, and allows a baby who can’t yet walk (or even crawl) to bounce around. We got one on Saturday. Isaac loves it. Makes him look like one of the Thunderbirds.
Man, I wish I had one for me. Wouldn’t that be GREAT? You could climb in and just kinda hang there… bounce around a bit if you were feeling energetic… watch TV… read a book… terrific stuff.
How can Western civilisation continue without these things? Someone, somewhere, soon, must build one of these things for adults. Whoever comes up with this will make a fortune. They’ll put them in amusement centres. Only a dollar cents for 10 minutes of bouncing around! They could use it at summit meetings, to relax everyone… imagine the leaders of the G7 nations bouncing around the table. "Hey, who cares about wheat subsidies, we’re bouncing! Yeah!!!"
Yesterday it was my birthday. 25. Twenty-five. Middle of my twenties. Yikes. The long, thin candles were spread over the top of the cake, making it look like a close-up from a shaver commercial. "The first filter shaves incredibly close… the second even closer!" Had a little family get-together. You know, nothing too fancy, don’t want to keep them all in one place too long, or violence tends to break out. But everything was pretty calm. We didn’t even have to call in the UN. Just as well really, it probably would have taken them five years to do anything.
So, Windows 95 is out. Yep, August the 24th, the big day, came and went, without a whimper of hype or advertising. Not!
But you won’t see me complaining about the hype. Nope. Not me. I like the hype surrounding Windows 95. I like the Rolling Stones jingle, I like the advert, I like the way they showed the nerdy insomniacs who decided to go buy it at midnight.
But most of all, I like the way I won a free copy from a radio station by answering a really easy question (which by some miracle noone else knew, or shouted fast enough or loud enough) out on St Kilda Road yesterday.
What a job that must be. Driving around in the Black Thunder or the Triple Thunder or the FM ThunderCrew Wagon Thundermobile (why do all the radio stations name their vehicles after thunder?), and giving away stuff. You’d end up thinking you were the most popular person on the planet. Everyone would always be pleased to see you.
"Hey Jim, here, take these fifty copies of Windows 95 in the Black Triple Thunder Machine, find a crowd of people and give them away!"
"What are they Ben?"
"Aww hell, I dunno, I work in radio. Something to do with windows."
"Okay, we’ll head down to the Glaziers’ Conference in William Street…"
But you know what got me? The media. For once they get a chance to talk about computers without mentioning the dreaded "I.S." cliche, and what do they do? They pretend they’ve never touched a keyboard. Trying to appeal to the common folk. Does anybody believe that journalists, even TV journalists, never use computers???
Some nameless gimboid on "NBC Nightly News Without Tom Brokaw" (Tom didn’t bother to turn up) says it’s got "something to do with computers…", and Ray on A Current Affair says after the story that the reporter was "the only one in the office who understood it." Yeah. Right. "Please folks, we’re common people here on TV. Even if we do earn millions of dollars a year for reading an autocue."
From the womb he came. At first, he ate, slept, wet. But three months later, he had become… the VOMITRON! Projecting his spew through the air – to land on the unsuspecting parent. No t-shirt is safe, no jumper provides protection from… the VOMITRON!