Pretty well everybody from the past is an Icon nowadays. It’s real easy: all you need is to be old and boring enough. Being Dead used to be a big help; in the early years of Iconhood, Deadness was virtually a sine qua non to Iconic sanctification but nowadays it’s a luxury. Being a member of the Living Dead, as so many past musicians have mutated into, is quite enough, thank you very much. The appetite for Icons has expanded to the point that anybody who has survived the years in some vaguely recognizable shape or form and who hasn’t made a complete arse of themselves is verging on Iconhood. Continue reading A Plague of Icons
Braithwaite Park, Mount Hawthorn would have to be one of the most well patronised community parks in Perth. Leading up to Christmas it was full all day, every day – kids playing ball games, picnickers, mummies chatting over wine, birthday parties with the usual add-ons – bouncy castles, pony rides, fenced farm animals, adult fairies and clowns (not always in clown gear and make-up) bullying passive kids into having “fun”…
Glory be, my partner and I were even over there one afternoon at our annual street Christmas getogether, sitting around a table having a beer with neighbours beneath the shade of one of the ancient, massive trees – this one: Continue reading Curiosity or catastrophe – it’s all in the timing
I’ve wondered, dear reader, about myself and these annual Awards. I really have. I mean, it’s not very nice, is it, what I do? Who sees off the year with a bitchfest?
I would embark on an expansive treatise of self-justification, but I know concentration spans have universally shrivelled, that the web is no place for introspective meanderings and expansive written self-expression. Why then, should I sabotage myself? Would you have me leap lemming-like from the clifftops of injudicious bloggerdom to dash myself on the rocks of readership oblivion?
I will not do it. You get no explanations. You get no apologies. All you get is what you deserve, this year with a lot more pics and a lot less text. See, I’m learning. Dumb it down, graphic it up. So here ya go, leaner and meaner than ever. Ladies, gentlemen, and everything in between, I give ya…
The BR Bitchfest Awards for 2011
I Know Nussink Award:
Murdoch and son
Slapper Of The Year:
Look at that speed-blurred hand action, and note that sign of a real pro – the fingers splayed to enhance the possibility of eye damage to the target Continue reading The Boomtown Rap Bitchfest Awards For 2011