So, first funny shit was this letter in today's Sydeney Morening Herald:
The traditional Fourth Estate position of the media is being eroded by the proliferation of "news" such as "the chk-chk-boom girl" ("Chk-chk-boom sums up sensation", May 28). When public discussion is diverted from issues of greater importance to the trivial and the novel it is a sign of the slow demise of functioning democracy. Though we are connected by communication technologies on an unprecedented scale, to quote Spider-Man, "with great power comes great responsibility". Let us not abuse our abundance of communication media. It is our responsibility to create collective intelligence rather than collective unintelligence.
So, let's just have a look at this. Mr Li is concerned that the standard of news reporting is being degraded by its apparent obsession with un-selfconscious, self-promoting 15-minutes-of-fame types such as Clare Werbeloff (VVB Ed: the chhk-chhk-boom girl). He goes on to make a resoundingly deep argument that popular interest in such ephemera indicates that the basis for rational society is in decline.
In support of this argument he then quotes - quotes, mind you - a comic book character.
So, can you please tell me which part of this evidently post-modern jigsaw puzzle I'm missing?
The next bit of today's...today's something... no, that bit is long gone. Could have had something to with swapping the work Subaru for a work Camry which has, I suspect, sucked out any remaining functioning parts of my brain.
And so on to music. I found tonight's offering not long after posting last Friday's welcome to the weekend post, but this is nothing short of pure ecstasy.
Yumm yumm, does that not get the musical juices flowing, I'm off downstairs to pick up the guitar and continue my long slide into oblivion. I absolutely love three minutes pieces of pop perfection and this was one.
I compare this Byrds reunion performance to the Aston from my last blog post. Probably not absolute perfection, but McGuinn's couple of misses, both vocally and his cues on the mighty Rickenbacker, you can equate to the fact that despite the stonking V12, the Aston's not actually as quick as it ought to be. But at the end of the ride or song, you don't give a shit: you've been in the presence of something you can't do, and you just admire those who can.
"A time for peace, I swear it's not too late."
We continue to hope so.
Au revoir, mes petits.