Wednesday, August 25, 2021
ENGLISH
English
I take it you already know
Of tough and bough and cough and dough?
Others may stumble but not you
On hiccough, thorough, slough and through.
Well done! And now you wish perhaps,
To learn of less familiar traps?
Beware of heard, a dreadful word
That looks like beard and sounds like bird.
And dead, is said like bed, not bead -
for goodness' sake don't call it 'deed'!
Watch out for meat and great and threat
(they rhyme with suite and straight and debt).
A moth is not a moth in mother,
Nor both in bother, or broth in brother,
And here is not a match for there,
Nor dear and fear for bear and pear,
And then there's doze and rose and lose -
Just look them up - and goose and choose,
And cork and work and card and ward
And font and front and word and sword,
And do and go and thwart and cart -
Come, I've hardly made a start!
A dreadful language? Man alive!
I learned to speak it when I was five!
And yet to write it, the more I sigh,
I'll not learn how 'til the day I die.
Anonymous
Tuesday, August 24, 2021
FROM THE VAULT: "I'm Mad as Hell" speech, Network
From Bytes, Tuesday, April 27, 2010:
One of the best comments on modern day alienation and powerlessness is Howard Beale's speech in the movie Network.
See it at:
Its message seems more apt, and more immediate, than 1976 when the film was released.
I don't have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It's a depression. Everybody's out of work or scared of losing their job. The dollar buys a nickel's worth; banks are going bust; shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter; punks are running wild in the street, and there's nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do, and there's no end to it.We know the air is unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat. And we sit watching our TVs while some local newscaster tells us that today we had fifteen homicides and sixty-three violent crimes, as if that's the way it's supposed to be!We all know things are bad -- worse than bad -- they're crazy.It's like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don't go out any more. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we're living in is getting smaller, and all we say is, "Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my TV and my steel-belted radials, and I won't say anything. Just leave us alone."Well, I'm not going to leave you alone.I want you to get mad!I don't want you to protest. I don't want you to riot. I don't want you to write to your Congressman, because I wouldn't know what to tell you to write. I don't know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the Russians and the crime in the street.All I know is that first, you've got to get mad.You've gotta say, "I'm a human being, goddammit! My life has value!"So, I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now and go to the window, open it, and stick your head out and yell,"I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!!
Monday, August 23, 2021
POETRY SPOT
Memories are Funny Things is a short poem by English poet, Ms Moem.
From her website bio:
Mrs Moem, born 1980, is a British poet, author and spoken word artist. She has been writing poetry professionally since 2008. When she isn’t writing, she favours creative pursuits such as painting, calligraphy, photography, scrap-booking and cooking. She lives on the edge of the Lake District with her family and is mum to four amazing offspring.
My own poetic contribution:
There was a lady called Moem
Who liked to write while at hoem.
But her skills were worse
Writing limerick verse,
The ultimate test in a poem.
Memories Are Funny Things
Memories are funny things.
You hear your favourite singer sing
And all at once, that voice is stored,
Recognisable evermore.
You visit towns, you see the sights,
You feel the heat, you see the light
And that becomes a picture, saved;
A snapshot of a happy day.
And all you ever need to do
Is think about that perfect view
And all at once, you’re there once more
Seeing it as you previously saw.
A scent or sound can do the same.
A hint, and whoosh, you’re back again.
You’re in the room, you’re with the guy,
No matter how much time’s passed by.
And if you listen close enough
The voices of the ones you love
Will stay inside your clever mind
For you to recall, anytime!
So soak up life and all it brings
Cos memories are funny things
They’re weaved from all you see or do.
Make them good. It’s up to you.
- Ms Moem.
Sunday, August 22, 2021
SYDNEY THEN & NOW
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Based on photographs and brief comments in Aussie Live Journal at:
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Watsons Bay Pier, photo undated.
Watson's Bay, Doyle’s Restaurant on the wharf.
Some more info and pics . . .
Watsons Bay is a harbourside suburb located 11 km north-east of the Sydney central business district.
Watsons Bay sits on the end of the South Head peninsula and takes its name from the sheltered bay and anchorage on its western side, in Port Jackson (Sydney Harbour). It provides views across the harbour to the Sydney Harbour Bridge. The Gap is an ocean cliff on the eastern side with views to Manly at North Head and the Pacific Ocean. Vaucluse is the only adjacent suburb, to the south.
The Watsons Bay Ferry Wharf, one of the oldest continually operating wharves in Sydney Harbour,
Watsons Bay, 1885
Watsons Bay, c 1900
Watsons Bay showing the ferry wharf and the vessel 'Lady Hopetoun'
Watsons bay wharf today . . .
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Teamsters stop for "smoko". By the late 19th century roads were improving and horse teams were supplanting bullocks as the main mode of heavy haulage. Horses could travel much faster than a bullock team's top speed of only three miles an hour (about 5km/h).
The massive WestConnex spaghetti junction being built at St Peters.
I am proud to say that son Elliot is an engineer helping build the Westconnex . . .
A digression about bullockies . . .
I have previously posted about the town of Gundagai and its popular tourist attraction of a dog sitting on the tucker box. For those unaware, such as overseas readers, tucker is a colloquial term for food, hence the tucker box is the food container.
I have also written that the dog sitting on the tucker box is a bowdlerisation of the original, as illustrated by a poem that tells the true story. I am reposting the poem, origin unknown, because it also illustrates the hard lives of the bullockies from long ago . .
I'm used to punchin' bullock teams across the hills and plains.
I've teamed outback for forty years through bleedin' hail and rain.
I've lived a lot of troubles down, without a bloomin' lie,
But I can't forget what happened just five miles from Gundagai.
'Twas getting dark, the team got bogged, the axle snapped in two.
I lost me matches and me pipe, so what was I to do?
The rain it was a-coming on, and hungry too was I,
And me dog shat in me tucker-box five miles from Gundagai.
Some blokes I know have stacks of luck, no matter where they fall,
But there was I, Lord love a duck, no bloody luck at all.
I couldn't heat a pot of tea or keep me trousers dry,
And me dog shat in me tucker-box five miles from Gundagai.
Now, I can forgive the bleedin' team, I can forgive the rain.
I can forgive the damp and cold and go through it again.
I can forgive the rotten luck, but hang me till I die,
I can't forgive that bloody dog, five miles from Gundagai.
Some bullock team pics . . .
Bullock team, timber gathering, Central Coast NSW. Date unknown
Bullock team hauling wool on a dray, Walcha, New South Wales
A colour postcard printed of a team of 16 bullocks carting a large load of wool ca. 1909.
Date unknown
Two men stand next to a large timber log being pulled by a bullock team at Eumundi, around 1895.
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Sydney Corn Exchange, corner of Sussex and Market streets. Photo taken c 1900
Sydney and Market Streets today, showing the Corn Exchange.
Some more info and pics . . .
The Corn Exchange is a heritage-listed former market building built from 1887. It has been commercial office space since the 1990s and was added to the New South Wales State Heritage Register in 2002.
It is the earliest remaining market building in Sydney. It was designed by the City Architect, George McRae, who later designed the Queen Victoria Building, for use as a temporary fruit market. At the time of construction, the Corn Exchange stood at the eastern end of Pyrmont Bridge and adjacent to Market Wharf, giving it easy access for produce by road and by water. The building incorporated a German system of brick and cast-iron structural framing in an attempt to make the building fire-resistant.
The Corn Exchange building operated as a fruit market for only four years before being converted into offices with posted street-level awnings, in accord with the original design intent of the architect, named the "Corporation Buildings". In 1900, the Corn Exchange opened in the Corporation Buildings during a private attempt to establish the City's grain market in the building. As transport links away from the inner harbour improved, interest in the Corn Exchange dwindled and from 1917 a succession of commercial tenants inhabited the upper levels of the building. By 1934, the posts had been removed and the awnings were suspended. By the late 1960s the awnings had been removed altogether. The unoccupied basement was a haven for the homeless throughout much of this time.
The Corporation Building in 1901, with Pyrmont Bridge at left.
July 1963
Today . . .
2010
2019
Saturday, August 21, 2021
SONGS ABOUT PROSTITUTES, PART 1
5 Facts about 5 Songs about Prostitutes, Part 1 . . .
Some of these I never realised were about this.
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CALL ME
Artist:
Blondie
Year:
1980
Link:
Lyrics:
[Verse 1]
Colour me your colour, baby
Colour me your car
Colour me your colour, darling
I know who you are
Come up off your colour chart
I know where you are coming from
[Chorus]
Call me (Call me) on the line
Call me, call me any, anytime
Call me (Call me) I'll arrive
You can call me any day or night
Call me
[Verse 2]
Cover me with kisses, baby
Cover me with love
Roll me in designer sheets
I'll never get enough
Emotions come, I don't know why
Cover up love's alibi
[Chorus]
Call me (Call me) on the line
Call me, call me any, anytime
Call me (Call me) I'll arrive
When you are ready we can share the wine
Call me
[Bridge]
Oooh, he speaks the languages of love
Oooh, amore, chiamami, chiamami
Oooh, appelle-moi mon cheri, appelle-moi
Anytime, anyplace, anywhere, any way
Anytime, anyplace, anywhere, any day, any way
[Instrumental Bridge]
[Verse 3]
Take me out and show me off
And put me on the scene
Dress me in the fashions
Of the 1980's
You're a man, no in-between
You know what your words can mean
[Chorus]
Call me (Call me) on the line
Call me, call me any day or night
Call me (Call me) I'll arrive
Call me, call me into overtime
Call me
[Instrumental Bridge]
[Chorus]
Call me (Call me) my love
Call me, call me any, anytime
Call me (Call me) for a ride
Call me, call me for some overtime
Call me (Call me) my love
Call me, call me in a sweet design
Call me (Call me), call me for your lover's lover's alibi
Call me (Call me) on the line
Call me, call me any, anytime
[Breakdown]
Call me, ah-ha, call me, ah-ha-ha
Call me, ah-ha-ha, call me any day or night
Call me, ooh-ooh-ah-ha-ha, ooh-ooh-ha-ha-ha
Call me, ah-ah-ooh
Call me, my, my sleek designs
Call me for a ride, call me inside
Call me, all night, all day, ah-ha
Call me
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ah-ah-ah
[Guitar Solo]
[Outro]
Call me in my life
Call me, call me any, any time
Call me, I'll arrive
Call me, call me for some overtime
Call me in my life
Call me, call me and my sleek designs
Call me, call me for your lover's lover's alibi
Call me in my life
Call me, call me any, any time
Ooh-ooh-ooh
Call me, oh-oh, call me
Call me in my life
Call me, call me any, any time
Facts:
1.
"Call Me" is a song by the American new wave band Blondie and the theme to the 1980 film American Gigolo. Produced and composed by Italian musician Giorgio Moroder, with lyrics by Blondie singer Debbie Harry, the song appeared in the film and was released in the United States in early 1980 as a single. "Call Me" was No. 1 for six consecutive weeks on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, where it became the band's biggest single and second No. 1. It also hit No. 1 in the UK.
2.
The song is about a prostitute and plays in a scene in American Gigolo where the lead character is "working."
3.
Giorgio Moroder told Billboard magazine that his difficult experience of recording this song with Blondie taught him not to work with rock bands. "There were always fights," he recalled. "I was supposed to do an album with them after that. We went to the studio, and the guitarist was fighting with the keyboard player. I called their manager and quit."
4.
Moroder's had originally wanted Stevie Nicks to provide vocals on the track but the Fleetwood Mac vocalist declined the offer.
5.
Debbie Harry performed this song with The Muppet Band in 2010 – click on the following link:
By the way, Blondie was the band’s name, not Debbie Harry’s stage name. She was born on July 1, 1945 and is now aged 76. Makes you feel old, doesn’t it.
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ISLAND GIRL
Artist:
Elton John
Year:
1975
Link:
Lyrics:
I see your teeth flash, Jamaican honey so sweet
Down where Lexington cross 47th Street
Oh she's a big girl, she's standing six-foot three
Turning tricks for the dudes in the big city
Island girl
What you wanting with the white man's world?
Island girl
Black boy want you in his island world
He want to take you from the racket boss
He want to save you, but the cause is lost
Island girl, island girl, island girl
Tell me what you wanting with the white man's world
Well she's black as coal, but she burn like a fire
And she wrap herself around you like a well-worn tire
You feel her nail scratch your back just like a rake, oh oh
He one more gone, he one more John who make the mistake
Island girl
What you wanting with the white man's world?
Island girl
Black boy want you in his island world
He want to take you from the racket boss
He want to save you, but the cause is lost
Island girl, island girl, island girl
Tell me what you wanting with the white man's world
Island girl
What you wanting with the white man's world?
Island girl
Black boy want you in his island world
He want to take you from the racket boss
He want to save you, but the cause is lost
Island girl, island girl, island girl
Tell me what you wanting with the white man's
Tell me what you wanting with the white man's
Tell me what you wanting with the white man's
Facts:
1.
"Island Girl" is a song performed by Elton John that went to number one for three weeks on the Billboard Hot 100 in the US and number 14 in the UK in 1975. The song was written by John and his songwriting collaborator Bernie Taupin.
2.
The song is about a Jamaican prostitute in New York City. The story is vague, but in the chorus, Elton asks, "What you wanting with the white man's world?" and tells her, "Black boy want you in his island world." Seems she is trapped there, unable to leave with the man who wants to take her home. It's a case of Elton John taking the song in a musical direction that belies the lyric delivered to him by Bernie Taupin.
3.
Elton plays lots of crowd-pleasing hits at his concerts, but this one rarely made his setlist. The last time he performed it was 1990.
4.
The single's B-side was "Sugar on the Floor", which was written by Kiki Dee, who would go on to duet with John on a number of occasions, most notably on their chart-topping 1976 single, "Don't Go Breaking My Heart". She is also one of the backup singers in Island Girl.
5.
From:
“Island Girl” is a song about a sex worker, a tall Jamaican woman who works a streetcorner near Times Square. Elton’s narrator is a john who wants to rescue her from her profession and maybe take her back to her homeland. She isn’t interested. Also: Elton’s narrator is presumably black? The chorus, in any case, is this: “Island girl, what you wanting with your white man’s world? / Island girl, black boy want you in his island world.”. . . . even by the standards of its day, this is some nasty, simplistic, absurd shit. It’s bad writing, too; the “well-worn tire” bit reminds me of Steve Carrell in The 40-Year-Old Virgin, claiming that a boob feels “like a bag of sand.” (Elton John did not write those lyrics. Bernie Taupin did, and Bernie Taupin has reportedly had sex with many women. How on Earth did he end up with “well-worn tire”?). . . . both the island girl and the narrator guy end up coming off as one-dimensional nobodies. The song expresses nothing. It has no compelling reason to exist.That wouldn’t matter too much if “Island Girl” had anything going on musically. It doesn’t. “Island Girl,” with its steel drums and its chunky beat, sounds a bit like a reggae song performed by someone who had never heard reggae. There’s a great story about the Talking Heads’ “The Overload”: The band wrote the song after reading an article about Joy Division. They’d never actually heard Joy Division; instead, they put the song together after imagining how Joy Division might sound. “Island Girl” is like that — it’s like Elton John tried to write a Bob Marley song after only having seen a picture of Bob Marley.“Island Girl” could probably be worse than it is. Elton John songs, even at their worst, have a certain glammy drive to them, a cheesed-out cinematic grandeur. Even with its painful yelps, its ungainly rhythms, and its distracting quasi-soca flourishes, “Island Girl” has that. But that’s not enough — especially when you’re dealing with those lyrics. So maybe it’s best to ignore “Island Girl” as a song and to simply look at it as evidence of the hot streak that Elton John was on in 1975. Even on the worst kind of autopilot, Elton John could still will a deeply underwhelming single to #1. That’s power.
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Friday, August 20, 2021
FUNNY FRIDAY
Here we are again, happy as can be, all good friends and jolly good company . . .
Well, sort of. There’s no jolly good company because here in Sydney we are in ongoing lockdown. The same with good friends, we see them on Facetime and speak to them by phone. Nor are happy as can be because predictions are that the lockdown may be extended, possibly to Christmas.
Remember how we toasted in 2021 and said we hoped it would be better than 2020? . . .
Anyway, here are some fish jokes which, like Sargent Pepper, are guaranteed to raise a smile. I like to think of it as Finny Friday.
Caution: some risqué content ahead.
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SOME HUMOUR:
A couple of young boys were fishing at their special pond off the beaten track.
All of a sudden, the Game Warden jumped out of the bushes. Immediately, one of the boys threw his rod down and started running through the woods like a bat out of hell. The Game Warden was hot on his heels. After about a half mile, the young man stopped and stooped over with his hands on his thighs to catch his breath, so the Game Warden finally caught up to him.
"Let's see yer fishin' licence, boy!" the Warden gasped.
With that, the boy pulled out his wallet and gave the Game Warden a valid fishing licence.
"Well, son," said the Game Warden,"You must be about as dumb as a box of rocks! You don't have to run from me if you have a valid licence!"
"Yes, sir," replied the young boy, "But my friend back there, well, he don't have one."
________________
It was a cold winter day, when an old man walked out onto a frozen lake, cut a hole in the ice, dropped in his fishing line and began waiting for a fish to bite. He was there for almost an hour without even a nibble when a young boy walked out onto the ice, cut a hole in the ice not too far from the old man and dropped in his fishing line. It only took about a minute and WHAM! a Largemouth Bass hit his hook and the boy pulled in the fish.
The old man couldn't believe it but figured it was just luck. But the boy dropped in his line and again within just a few minutes pulled in another one. This went on and on until finally the old man couldn't take it any more since he hadn't caught a thing all this time.
He went to the boy and said, "Son, I've been here for over an hour without even a nibble. You have been here only a few minutes and have caught about half a dozen fish! How do you do it?"
The boy responded, "Roo raf roo reep ra rums rrarm."
"What was that?" the old man asked.
Again the boy responded, "Roo raf roo reep ra rums rarrm."
"Look," said the old man, "I can't understand a word you are saying."
So, the boy spat into his hand and said, "You have to keep the worms warm!"
________________
Russian Prime Minister Medvedev comes to President Putin and nervously tells him to abolish time zones.
"Why"? Putin asks.
" I fly to another city, call home and everyone is asleep. I woke you up at 4.00am but I thought it was only evening. - I call Angela Merkel to congratulate her on her birthday and she tells me she had it yesterday. - I wish the Chinese President a Happy New Year, and he says it will be tomorrow."
"Indeed" Putin replies "but that's only minor stuff. Remember when that Polish plane crashed with the president? I called them to express my condolences, but the plane hadn't taken off yet!!"
________________
Something for these Covid days . . .
Remember: what doesn’t kill you….
Mutates and tries again
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Out fishing with a sailor friend, a priest hooks a huge fish. Helping him reel it in , the sailor says, "Whoa, look at the size of that fucker!" "Hey, mind your language!" says the priest. Embarrassed, the sailor thinks quickly and blurts out, "Sorry Father, but that’s what this fish is called - it's a fucker fish!"
Accepting the explanation, the priest forgives the sailor and takes the fish back to church. "Look at this huge Fucker," says the priest, spotting the Bishop. "Language, please! This is God’s house," replies the Bishop. "No, no – that’s what this fish is called," says the priest. "Oh," says the Bishop, scratching his chin. " I could clean that fucker and we could have it for dinner."
So the Bishop takes the fish, cleans it, and brings it to the Mother Superior. "Could you cook this fucker for dinner tonight?" he asks her. "My, what language!" she exclaims, clearly shocked.
"No, Sister, that’s what this fish is called - a fucker," says the Bishop. Satisfied with the explanation, the Mother Superior says, "Wonderful, I'll cook that fucker tonight, the Pope is coming for dinner!"
The fish tastes just great and the Pope asks where they got it.
"Well, I caught the fucker!" says the Priest. "And I cleaned the fucker!" says the Bishop. "And I cooked the fucker!" says the Mother Superior.
The Pope stares at them for a minute with a steely gaze, leans back on his chair, takes off his cap, puts his feet up on the table, pours himself a whiskey and says, " You know what? You cunts are alright!"
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LIMERICK OF THE WEEK:
One for my friend and colleague Tony, whose birthday is today . . .
There once was a man dubbed TZ,
Always arguing with Leo, who said
“I must tell you lad,
You’re bad, sad, a cad,
Plus you’re totally fucked in the head.”
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GALLERY:
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RELIGION SPOT:
A priest is walking down the street and sees a little girl with a box.
“What’s in the box?”, the priest asks.
“Christian kittens”, the little girl answers.
Pleased, the priest smiles and continues on his way.
A week later, the same priest is walking down the street with a nun when he sees the little girl and the box again. “Ask her what she has in the box”, he says, “It’s the cutest thing!”
The nun walks up and asks the girl what she has in the box.
“Atheist kittens”, she says.
The priest rushes forward and says "ATHEIST KITTENS!!! Last week you said they were “Christian kittens!!!”
“They were”, she says. “Now their eyes are open”.
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CORN CORNER:
________________
I saw a guy fishing the other day and I asked him, "Have you caught anything?"
He said, "I've caught loads today."
"Using worms, are you?"
"No, licorice."
"What have you caught with that?"
"All sorts," he said.
________________
My wife and I lived happily for 25 years.
Then we met.
________________
Another dedicated to the birthday boy. . .
My friend Tony asked me not to say his name backwards,
So I said “Y not?”
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