Flexi-Revolutions

I've decided to share some of my rare vinyl with the world, reliving the Eighties when I was young & enthusiasm flowed through me. And why not, it feels like a new decade although the purists have a strong but dismal arguement that the new decade starts next new year, a nostalgia hobby is good.

Let's concentrate on the good old flexidiscs, because though there are many a song clip on Youtube there are fewer of these. First up Kvatch001, featuring the still beautiful after all these years Clingfilm by the Sea Urchins. I've used all the power of Windows Movie Maker to provide the visuals, so please feast your eyes & ears.

First in a series of hundreds, if I can be bothered:

trade the emissions from my arse, you bastards!

Thanks to the collusion of Australia's pig-shit-thick voters, we've walked ourselves into what is essentially a one-party state masquerading as a democracy. All we get to choose is which faction of the Libor Party (or is it the Laberals) gets to play government for the corporate masters.

The dirtier elements of the corporate masters must be rubbing their hands with glee at how the CPRS (Comprehensive Polluter Reward Scheme) is shaping up to deliver them windfall profits in the billions, whilst reducing emission minimally, if at all, at stupendous cost to us all. In order that the average mug doesn't notice the glee, they take full page ads in the press bemoaning their fate.

An ETS skeptic is different to a climate skeptic. You can be the former without being the latter, I know because I am. The Aussie ETS is about as bad as these things can be; nearly unlimited free permits, but if you do need some more, cheap as chips unlimited offsets available, so no need improve your carbon efficiency. When the offset trees you've planted get destroyed in a wild fire, that's a natural event, so the emissions don't count (except to the planet).

The CPRS locks in failure on climate change for the next decade and is therefore worse than useless. Let's hope the Greens will join with the rabble on the right of the conservative faction and vote the bastard thing down.

I'm not a climate change skeptic, but I do admit that climate is so, so complex that there is a chance they are right. This slim possibility is no excuse for inaction, but as inaction is what we have, and what we are going to get more of, I really, truly hope they are right. Otherwise, we are completely and utterly... [insert preferred expletive here]!

Movember with Boarking

give away your hard-earned here: http://au.movember.com/mospace/124621

good onya'

Communicating with God about the tsunami

On wednesday morning I woke to this text:

"Hey boar did you hear about quake and tsunami in the samoas?"

My phone failed to recognise the number, so it wasn't in my contacts, but the writer clearly knew my name and that I had a Samoan connection (I spent a couple of years around the millenium bring books to the Samoan masses)

I replied:

"I do now! thanks mystery caller!"

And got the reply:

"Youre welcome, love from god."

This explains a lot. God is all knowing of my name and work history, but I'm the last person likely to have His number in my contacts. I said:

"Well god, might i suggest that you spend less time loving atheists like me and more time loving your adoring samoans. Stop working in mysterious ways! "

He said:

"I love all my kids, even prodigal librarians. Sounds like youre back on board tho if you think im responsible for the samoan earthquake..."

"i know you exist because you keep txt ing me. So, why attack the samoans.. They luv ya!"

"They went against god when they swapped road sides"

So there you go, that's it straight from the top. I tried ringing the number but it just rang out and no voice mail. Can't say I blame God for not having voicemail.

----

I can't offer prayers, but my thoughts and best wishes are with the beautiful people of the Samoan Isles.

Tipping with washing lines

Your head says tip Geelong.

But when I was taking in the washing at the weekend, I came to a point where what was left on the line were three vests: one red, one white & one black. It seems to me an omen from the footy gods, who've I've had dealings with before, so you best tip the Saints.

Boarking goes solar

as the polar bears smile their thanks,

and the glaciers regrow,

snows fall again on Kilamanjaro,

Gaia sighs her relief,

and...

...a cloud of smug becomes visible above Boarking Mansions!

Collywobblin'

I warned all my Collingwood Pie friends (I confess I do have some) not to watch the Preliminary Final. I'm sure they regret ignoring the man in the know, Ernest U.

Followers of the game knew it was going to go pear shape when the coach tried to play mind games, always the last refuge of the desperate.