buggery.org

“I have not lived as a woman. I have lived as a man. I’ve just done what I damn well wanted to and I’ve made enough money to support myself and I ain’t afraid of being alone.”

They don’t make ‘em like that anymore, and I don’t suppose they will again. I’m not exactly a camp old queen (I’ve never managed to sit through All About Eve without nodding off) but Kate was somehow different for me, and the news of her death has made me sad.

Thanks for everything, Ms Hepburn. You were one of the best. Happy trails.

Billy, in an email this morning:

“I hope your credibility reconstruction project is coming along well.”

Like all my distant, acquaintances-never-quite-confirmed-as-friends, he knows too much. Release the dogs!

“The Court has taken sides in the culture war, departing from its role of assuring, as neutral observer, that the democratic rules of engagement are observed. Many Americans do not want persons who openly engage in homosexual conduct as partners in their business, as scoutmasters for their children, as teachers in their children’s schools, or as boarders in their home. They view this as protecting themselves and their families from a lifestyle that they believe to be immoral and destructive.”

Justice Scalia speaks out on behalf of America’s scouts, students and boarding-house operators, dissenting in Lawrence et al. v. Texas.

Scalia seems certain that marriage is next. The San Francisco Chronicle agrees, breathlessly:

“The decision overturned the court’s 1986 ruling in Bowers vs. Hardwick, another sodomy case, and laid the groundwork for legal challenges to all laws that discriminate against gays and lesbians, including marriage laws, the “don’t ask, don’t tell” rule on gays in the military and a host of custody, employment and other disputes often based on 13 remaining state sodomy laws and the Bowers decision.”

It is a monumental decision, of course, and a historic moment.

Gay marriage is now just a court challenge or two away, surely. I couldn’t see America’s homos putting up with having to travel to Canada to get married for long.

The last hurrah … you’re invited! (Click image to view PDF invite)

Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)

You approach Satan’s wretched city where you behold a wide plain surrounded by iron walls. Before you are fields full of distress and torment terrible. Burning tombs are littered about the landscape. Inside these flaming sepulchers suffer the heretics, failing to believe in God and the afterlife, who make themselves audible by doleful sighs. You will join the wicked that lie here, and will be offered no respite. The three infernal Furies stained with blood, with limbs of women and hair of serpents, dwell in this circle of Hell.

The Dante’s Inferno Test has banished me to the Seventh Level of Hell:

Take the Dante’s Divine Comedy Inferno Test

Our new baby. She’s a cutie, eh?

“Alright people, it’s 1:55 … back to work!”

The ABC reports that our Minister for Immigration, Mr Ruddock, has announced that he will challenge last week’s Family Court ruling which found that it is illegal for the government to keep children in jail, indefinitely, without trial.

The fedferal government ask the High Court to confirm that the Family Court has no power to order the Immigration Department to release children who have committed no crime and who are detained against their will in appalling conditions in remote detention camps in the most remote and inhospitable parts of Australia.

I’m speechless.

Last night to the Columbine for the launch of ACON’s new Sexually-Transmitted Infections booklet (glamorous, eh?)

I daresay I drank more than I should have, but the booze was free and I needed something to cushion me in that crowd. I’m getting a little tired of being asked the same questions over and over again (the most common of which, “How are you liking Newcastle?” is somewhat misdirected as I haven’t moved there yet).

Anyhow the Safe Sex Sluts did a fine job of feeding us, Nurse Nancy did her bit, the speeches were mercifully short, the bar tab lasted the distance and we collapsed into bed not too much the worse for wear.

Statistical observation of the evening: I have had all but one of the STIs listed in the ACON booklet, and failed to shag all but one of the Gaydar boys featured in the photographs currently showing on the Columbine wall. Conclusion: those boys need to get out more.
Good news is that finance for our vehicular purchase was approved yesterday so we can go ahead and buy the ute of our dreams. The grand plan is coming together quite nicely.

Regular visitors (do they exist? I cannot say) will notice some small changes to the site “user interface” (I hate that phrase) this morning. Navigation menu now at top of page in tiny font that anyone over the age of 40 won’t be able to read
Apologies in advance for any bugs. Feedback invited, even from HTML wonks who want to look under the hood and tell me it’s wrong, wrong, all wrong…

Changes to the lefthandsidebar (←over there) are also planned, and will bring the site into minmalist splendour… soon.

Back from Uluru. Slide show is online. Essay coming.

We’re off this morning to Uluru, to gaze upon the world’s greatest monolith, to see the stars, visit the centre of the oldest place on Earth and to celebrate, in what can only be described as excessively lavish style, the extraordinary fact that friend Keith has completed forty circuits around the sun.

So there will be no posts for the next few days.

Japanese women are taking to the Beckham hairstyle, according to today’s SMH. And you know I’m not talking about the hair on their heads…

“Some magazines have carried articles about styling your pubic hair and they referred to the Beckham look,” the magazine quoted Minako, an office worker. “But we’d been doing it for a while before those stories came out.”

And this:

“[Beckham's looks] are quite acceptable to Japanese people,” Mr Kiminami said. “It is much easier for Japanese women to accept his moderately sexy appearance than Italian soccer player Francesco Totti, who is too sexy for Japanese women.”

I don’t think Mr Kiminami even begins to comprehend the forces with which he is dealing here.

Haven’t posted for a few days (work+life balance thing) so this is just a “Haven’t posted for a few days but I’m not dead” style of post.

We saw Oliver Stone’s Castro doco on Saturday as previously mentioned. A full house at the gloriously OTT State Theatre and a really fascinating film. The experience has got me thinking about censorship so I’m mulling those thoughts over in the back of my head with the view to writing an essay eventually.

Brent is back up north for the next few days then we’re both off to Uluru on Thursday. Expect photos.

Last night to the Film Festival with Brent, Brent, Aldo, Anna and Michelle for Friday the 13th special horror double feature.

First movie was the premiere of a new Aussie Zombie Alien flick, Undead. There aren’t enough Aussie zombie movies: it’s a genre that needs to be explored more deeply. Nothing like blood, guts and dust in the outback to get the senses moving.

The second film was a classic American effort in the five-kids-in-a-cabin-in-the-woods genre, Cabin Fever. Most of our group seemed to like this one better but I preferred the Aussie effort.

I was even more entranced by the Speirig brothers, the identical twins who directed and produced Undead and who answered questions after the film. Identical twins are always a bit fascinating to watch, and their repeated references to “sharing the same brain” enhanced that.

We’re off this afternoon to see Commandante, Oliver Stone’s bio-doco on Fídel Castro. Gotta love the film festival.

Well-known Aussie heartthrob and paragon of Olde Worlde Catholick Virtue Mel Gibson is in a touch of warm water today after his old man let slip some of the slightly extreme views which pass for conversation around the Gibson dinner table. Mel and [dad] Hutton Gibson have reportedly come under fire from a leading Jewish group for the alleged anti-semitic message of Mel’s new film and for Hutton’s denial that Al Qaeda executed the September 11 attacks.

Apparently the octogenarian Gibson Senior, a former Jeopardy! winner who moved his family from the US to Australia in the late sixties so that Mel wouldn’t have to fight in Vietnam, writes religious pamphlets in his copious spare time. He claims that the Holocaust never happened, that the election of “Anti-Pope” John XXIII in 1958 was forced by a threat to nuke the Vatican, and that the September 11 attacks were carried out by jewish extremists using “remote controlled jets.”

Hutton Gibson “may be considered an eccentric, a crackpot, or an anti-Semite (or some combination thereof) depending upon how charitably one views his utterances and beliefs about religion and politics,” according to the always-reliable snopes.com.

Personally, I can’t understand why anyone still takes that talent-challenged right-wing homophobe seriously at all. He hasn’t made a decent movie since Mad Max II, he treats his wife like a slave and he acts like a complete dickhead in public every chance he gets.

At least now it’s clear where he gets it from.

For me the charm of amateur pics has never involved the vulnerability displayed by the model’s self-willed nudity. As soon as a JPEG has fully loaded in my browser, I immediately begin to scour the image’s background in search of clues and signs that are a thousand times more intriguing than bare butts or engorged genitalia. Interiors are like handwriting, and for those who know how to decipher the mishaps of furniture meeting form, many secrets are revealed.

Compelling (adult) viewing from nightcharm.com (via Kabi).

I re-enrolled at UTS yesterday. This is what my Tuesdays are going to look like from the end of next month:

0647-0940: Train from Newcastle to Sydney (three glorious hours in the company of Cityrail’s finest)

1000-1300: Editing and Publishing 2 (potentially sucky subject but there are eight definitely non-sucky credit points waiting at the end of it)

1300-1600: Political Theory (note the complete absence of any lunch break)

1612-1834: Train from Sydney to Newcastle (at least this train’s a bit faster)

All up it’s roughly twelve hours for the round trip, and I’ll be doing it twice a week (Tuesdays for Uni, Fridays for work). I am being simultaneously realistic (it will be a drag) and optimistic (it will give me ten hours of uninterrupted reading time every week) about this revelation.

I remember years ago when I worked for the Attorney-General we had a staffie who did this trip every day, except with eight hours work, not six, in the middle of the sandwich: he got up at 4 and was home at 8 every day. I asked him once why he didn’t just move to Sydney. He told me living in Newcastle was worth the trip, just for the weekends.

Amen to that.

This story may sound a bit mad and odd but you gotta hear me out. I recently went to Melbourne to visit a mate (and do a bit of business) which of course led to a boozy lunch and some shopping - as you do in Melbourne … our good friend Sean told me he recently purchased a DVD player.

I know you are wondering “so who cares?!?!?” but Sean had said that reason he succumbed to the impulse purchase urge was because of the salesman. I told him he was a flake and a loser, prone to flutterings of the heart of an attractive yet unavailable straight salesman. However, I was impressed that not only had he garnished the affection of Sean but also his colleague Angela (the most gorgeous woman in the world). Needless to say Sean convinced me this guy was the DVD salesman of the century and he knew how to work the ‘charm factor’.

I walked into J&B HiFi and had already decided he could be nothing as Sean had described. Oh how wrong I was. This man had the most amazingly sculptured facial topiary (for which I have a soft spot) and the voice of honey dripping from a spoon. I don’t need nor do I want a DVD player at the moment, but as soon as he put his strong hand on my shoulder and told me “how much I wanted it” in a tone of voice and apparent subtext I could have sweared meant “I want you now”, not only did I melt and thought ‘maybe I do?’ - I immediately instructed Sean to take me to the nearest exit quickly before he finished with the customer he was serving.

All I can say - if you want a DVD player, you are in Melbourne and are intersted in the most amazing charm factor a straight man can muster. Visit J&B HiFi.

Who is to be the new leader of the ALP: Slimey Simon or Fart Boy? The caucus vote may still be a week away but the voters at buggery.org’s HOT or NOT have already made their minds up.

Awake this morning before dawn. Can’t sleep without my man, even ‘though Melki is the second-best snuggler I know. So I’ve already been up for nearly five hours…

This is a good morning to be up early. I’ve watched the sun rise and it’s going to be a great day. The next edition of PL is all done bar the proofing, after weeks (too many) of slog. It shouldn’t be so hard, but I think it’s a good issue. After processing the last few words this morning I’ve been up at Sydney Park with the boys, who are now sound asleep under my desk after a huge walk and swim. Jasper swam for an hour and would have gone on if I’d let him.

Ran into lovely Tim in the park and chatted while the dogs (his Airedale, my Labs) marauded about. On the way home, across the flawless blue sky, two white cockatoos flew overhead.

Life is good.

Always the bridesmaid, poor Pete Costello had his smug smile wiped off this week when his boss decided to stay on until he’s wrecked the country properly.

But after a couple of tense days, the two seem to have ironed out their differences, heading off what looked like it might have been a major scrag fight. Howard, being the astute political operator he is, knows how to keep the parliamentary party under control.

Lindsey Browne, who compiled crosswords for the Herald from 1935 and claimed that he had filled more editorial space than any journalist, died yesterday. He was 87. [Full story]

Cryptic crossword fanatics (like me) will miss LB, on Saturday mornings especially.

“…But his acting went far deeper than his audiences knew, because for all these years, Richard Chamberlain has kept a secret, one he’s revealing for the first time….

(Via Kabi, whose interest in trivia knows no bounds)

We have a home. Crosshairs indicate approximate location. We move in a month.

First a confession: I actually slept really well last night without Brent thrashing about next to me. I don’t think one should read too much into this, because I did have company so there were plenty of midnight snuggles and the comfort of a warm body next to me all night. And with Jasper at the foot of the bed it’s possible to sleep despite the noise (that dog snores like a freight train). So I am awake refreshed but still missing my man. Last night was punctuated by a series of telephone calls between here and his hotel room in Newcastle.

Today there is much work to be done so hopefully I’ll be too distracted to notice his absence. Then just one more sleep and he’ll be home, albeit briefly.

He’s gone. It’s only for three days but I already feel lost. I know that after four years together I’m supposed to look forward to breaks like these but every separation is as hard as it ever was. Last night I lay awake in bed; I felt like I had to savour every moment while I still had him next to me. Am I co-dependent, or am I in love? Either way, I’m alone for the next three days and I’d rather not be.

Two months on from the end of the war and still no weapons of mass destruction paraded victoriously before the cameras. Are we surprised? Well, yes. I for one expected that the Americans would have planted something by now.

In the US, there’s apparently little talk of missing WMDs; the Americans, being American (bless ‘em), aren’t especially concerned with such trivia now that the war has been won by the Forces of Good™. But here in Australia and in the UK, things are not so simple: not everyone here is as convinced of the goodness of America’s intentions.

(more…)

“Le site-blog de Paul Kidd est d’une grande richesse et un design impeccable. Du grand art.”

I am tres reconnaissant for the kind words and trois étoiles awarded to buggery.org by netgai.com. Bienvenue à les mecs français. Ils ont vachement bandant!