Archive for May, 2009

AUSTRALIA DURING 1940-1980

May 26, 2009

Flashback to 2006. History exam about Australia’s foreign policies between 1940 and 1970. Essay done (it wasn’t very good because it was supposed to be a formal essay and not contain humorous references to Michael Jackson’s face. Oops), I decided to have a little history-based stream-of-consciousness. The results were, well, interesting.
So without further ado, as I’m sure there will be enough of that later:

AUSTRALIA DURING 1940-1980
Formerly, “An example of what NOT to do with fifteen minutes of a history exam to kill.”
During 1940-1970, Australia was invaded by pink iguanas. Robert Menzies, who drowned in a banana while trying to catch fish using fluffy rabbits, tried to stop the invasion by turning to his left. That way he saw Madagascar, but it drowned too, so he looked to American, which fed him things on sticks. This is why he is a fatty. Big fatty fatty fatty.
After Menzies was Vietnam. He was famous and they let him on television. Television was invented by a great big baboon with furry noses called Fred. The baboon’s name was Humphrey and he was an antelope. So Vietnam was very thin, and so America went to him and tried to feed him things on sticks, but Vietnam protested and became French.
When Vietnam died in 1970, up came Thomas the Tank Engine, who was also known as Gough Whitlam. Gough Whitlam was also a big fatty fatty who tried eating coal but it didn’t work so he went to China. All of the Aborigines in China loved him because he was a big fatty. But the Governor-General didn’t like him, so he killed him. The Governor-General also was a big fat fatty fat fatty who married the Queen and told that to Barry Humphries.
After Thomas the Tank Engine, a drum was Prime Minister because he was also a fatty. This drum was a model and he also went on television. He liked to eat whales, but then the Japanese said “No we want whales” so America bombed Japan and gave the drum a stick so he could eat whales. Then it was 1980 and people were still big fat fat fatties.

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Woody, I salute you, but I miss you.

May 26, 2009

Nothing beats Sleeper.

Nothing beats Sleeper.


Woody Allen was perhaps, besides any of my family members, my first hero, and I am proud to say so. Not Batman or Superman or Fatman or Pooperman. Woody Allen. From the moment I first set eyes on him in Sleeper (in my opinion his best work yet) and then read his attempts at Getting Even , through Bananas, Annie Hall, Zelig, Side Effects, Love and Death, I saw him as someone to whom one could look up. Now perhaps not literally, but still, each time I see his early work I want to hug him. No, I can’t say early work exclusively, because even as late as Everyone Says I Love You and Small Time Crooks has he demonstrated that being funny works. Lately he seems to have given up on the whole humour thing and that acting business. He can only direct well when he’s in the film! I can’t get enough of the neurotic New Yorker – a genius in small clothing – who rambles and witticises his way through life, which for him, is nothing short of a joke, something I believe everyone should recognise. So what if he’s in love with a woman half his age? At least he has the ability to love, to give and to receive love. He is not a monster for loving. Boo and poo to the media and to Mia Farrow and to his son Satchel (or Ronan or whichever of his middle names he’s going to use next) for making him out to be one. Little Woodykins is the absolute opposite of a monster. Whatever happened to the seductive neo-Groucho who would play on words and his clarinet simultaneously to have women swoon over him? I remember reading an interview in which he mentioned that he doesn’t act in his films because he is now too old to “get the girl”. Sorry, Woody, but you can never be too old for anything. Especially when it happens in a film. And you can definitely not be too old to be humorous.
Come back, Woody. Please.