Saturday 15th - Sunday 16th September.
It was more chaotic than usual - and, for me, marred by some sadness due to the absence of Certain Individuals (but what else is new I guess, lol/sigh).
In any case and all the same, the required standard was met. Which is to say: went off.
Thanks everyone :)
Posted at 11:18 PM in :), Adversity, Awesomeness, Benevolence, Chaos, Destruction, Discombobulation, Domestica, Dreams, Drugs, Drunkenness, Estrangement, Friends Of The Zoo, Handmade Things, Here Is The News, History, Illusion Of Time, It'll All Come Good, Liable For Everything, Liable For Nothing, Mentalism, Mysteries, Night Time, People, Photos, Relational Aesthetics, Swings & Roundabouts, Thank You For Your Compliance, the walls are mushy, Ukes, w0ot | Permalink | Comments (0)
This all started when I received a call from Moo first thing in the morning advising that Channel 7 would be doing their evening news broadcast live from Federation Square, and suggesting that we quietly herd the cats for some snap TPPA-awareness-raising action.
Although in the end I personally missed the whole actual thing. Who knew it would turn out to be this epic? Wrong day to be taking a burnout-break. Oh well.
Amazing raw footage of Indi's (1 gig). KenjiVision(tm):
Friday, 2nd March.
This chalkage by Dan Hayato-Thomas was surprisingly controversial:
Cardboard freegan chocolate stand threat systematically neutralised with devastating efficiency by Victoria's finest:
Jase Emgee's vid of this incident, which conveniently occurred in the middle of a workshop on citizen journalism:
Dancing with the Krishnas:
:) :) :)
And it's good! Can't complain.
"Friends - you know who you are; you know we're grateful." - Blur, 1993. (Seriously. If ever a year was about Who Your Real Friends Are, it was 2011.)
Similarly, those who have fucked me up and fucked me over this year most likely know who they are also, and possibly how I feel about this (hint: angry, bewildered and sad) - with the possible exception of the Rt Hon Lord Mayor of Melbourne Robert Doyle (note contact details), who I strongly suspect does not have any idea who I am.
(I also doubt he reads this blog. But since it just can't be said often enough I might as well take this opportunity to (re)state, for the record: Robert Doyle, you're a fucking cunt. You really are.)
The bulk of this year's SIDTY post I rendered in audio format at the coast a few nights ago. It goes into a bit more detail (although, to be honest, not all that much). Enjoy:
Vale 2011. Viva 2012.
Happy new year!
Posted at 11:11 PM in :), Adversity, Audio, Awesomeness, Being A Cunt To Schmobos, Benevolence, Cunts, Discombobulation, Dreams, Drugs, Exhaustion, Here Is The News, History, Illusion Of Time, Life Is Good, Night Time, Occupy, People, Perseverence, Philosophica, Photos, Self Analysis, Swings & Roundabouts, the walls are mushy, Victory, w0ot, Weblogs | Permalink | Comments (3)
Saturday, 17th December.
Posted at 04:14 PM in :), Adversity, Audio, Awesomeness, Being A Cunt To Schmobos, Benevolence, Boogie Fever, Current Affairs, Damage Control, Desperation, It'll All Come Good, Night Time, No Risk Too Great, Occupy, People, Perseverence, Should I Be Saying This On This Internet?, w0ot | Permalink | Comments (0)
Early hours of Saturday, 19th November.
Saturday, 24th September.
An epic time was, needless to say, had.
The Patrick Porter award for the best present and best guest overall goes to Kirrily. The prize for the most perverse guests goes to the Keith! Party crew - comprising on this occasion Talkshow Boy, 2-SHEE, Hot God, Gezus and entourage including Ms C. C*ulter (alias unknown) - who turned up unfashionably early, immediately occupied what would normally be the dancing room and systematically set about turning it into a chillout room. WTF. (NB: And it was *great*.)
Prize for the most long-lost-but-pleasingly-now-seemingly-regained former CH party regular goes to Vicwie. Prize for the best guest who wasn't able to attend physically but who came in essence goes, as always, to Wads. Prize for the best autographed copy of Kafka's "Metamorphosis" and best Tasweigan mafia attaché goes to Doktor Midnight aka The Dan Cross Revolution. Prize for the best drug by almost universal consensus goes to nitrous oxide.
Prize for the most gobsmacking act of delusionality - not to mention the most concerted but nevertheless pathetically unsuccessful attempt to ruin a birthday party of mine in the history of the world - goes to the profoundly
fucked in the head disappointing Ms G. Rouse. Prize for the most departing housemate of three years goes to Grim$ha.
Prize for the most heroically tenacious still-recovering-from-her-own-birthday-shenanigan-the-previous-night attendee and all-round best MC-Ren-would-you-please-give-your-testimony-to-the-jury-about-this-fucked-up-incident regaliousness goes to Toots.
Special award for the mouthiest ho goes, as it generally does, to Kat (see audio, below).
Extra special thanks to, y'know, everyone. Seriously.
Saturday, 14th May.
UPDATE (Sat 21st) - I thought no audio had been captured, but upon checking my phone this afternoon I found this recording, captured at 4:51am, of Johnny "Liable For Nothing" Coburg performing Knockin' on Heaven's Door, accompanied (IIRC) by Ford on the acoustic guitar and featuring Grimsey scatting at the very end, which is something you don't hear every day:
At my friend Dan Cross's house.
We've known and lived around the corner from each other for about three years, but it's only this year that we've started hanging out regularly for whatever reason. It's been good.
I've been living la vida recluse of late and ergo felt severely awkward and freakish initially. But the night came extremely good in the end and did excellent things for my faith in people and awesomeness, etc.
Here's a photo I took at around 1:30am, the point at which I started to feel the full force of the awesome and was compelled to document it:
It was also at around this time that former operative Deadsoybean sent me some audio, which means that - as per a bargain we struck on January 30th - I can now send her the handmade thing she is owed under the terms of a F$&book status meme I posted a month or so ago.
(The preceding post was a picture of the first handmade thing, which was for Master Luke Hand. The next one will go to Jonathan Carfax. The one after that to the legendary Twyllan Mynodal, and the last to the artist formerly known as MC Gezus.)
Here's some audio I recorded for Carfax (starring the aforementioned Dan Cross) on the night of January 23rd, when I made Soybean's thing:
I like this audio a lot. I've listened to it over and over in late night goon stupours and it's made me happy. I don't know why. (If anyone wants me to bleep out their name, they can freakin complain.)
What else? I'm in a quandry about whether to go back to school in March or defer again. I kind of liked the idea of graduating in December 2012, just in time for the Mayan apocalypse/whatever. But when the world ends/whatever it won't really matter whether I have a whole diploma of visual art or just half of one. And that I'm so not sure suggests to me that I should save it for when I'm feeling less not-sure.
I could do it part time but that seems half-assed, and I don't really do half-assed.
So hungover rn omg. I'm going back to bed.
My 2010 started on a high. Life was good and all the stars were aligned, etc. Unfortunately the wheels started to come off in the second quarter and the second half was an increasingly shitful and regressive abortion.
People who've been awesome: thanks. People in general: also that other thing. Seriously.
Life is improving. I think we'll be doing just fine if we relax a little.
Happy new year.
Posted at 06:13 PM in Adversity, Art, Awesomeness, Benevolence, Damage Control, Failure, History, Illusion Of Time, It'll All Come Good, Liable For Everything, Liable For Nothing, Life, Newness, Not Dead, People, Perseverence, Relational Aesthetics, School, Shitfulness, Travel, w0ot | Permalink | Comments (3)
Friday 17th September.
It started out as the intended convivial quiet gathering.
Suffering some uncertainty as to whether I was being terribly rude - but hey, it was my birthday, and moreover Luke forced my hand. As in literally picked me up and carried me out the door - I abandoned said gathering temporarily to go see these people play a venue down the road with a roomful of balloons at around 11pm.
(Due to a combination of behind-scheduleness and licensing restrictions, they very nearly didn't. But in the end they beat the odds - and the law - and totally did.)
Then, with a few new guests in tow, we returned to CH an hour and a bit later to find the former quiet gathering had unexpectedly hit critical mass in our absence and was comprehensively going OFF. Omg!
The universe, in effect, threw me a bitchin surprise party.
Big thanks to everybody who conspired with the universe to make it such a happy one.
Saturday 17th July.
Most fiasco-tastic DP evar! It's been a bit like that lately. I almost gave up and cancelled it. But I'm very glad I didn't, coz despite all kinds of stupid problems in the end it still went OFF.
(10:21pm; 4min 59sec)
Amongst other things, the DPP planning committee encountered considerable guestlist difficulty. Despite and at least partly because of no less than three date changes aimed at accommodating them all and genuine enthusiasm from at least some quarters, exactly none of the invitees I'd originally lined up ultimately managed to make it.
(10:55pm; 1min 17sec)
Which might have been considered a fairly abject fail - were it not for the inspiringly circus-saving company of previous-attendee legends who, in flagrant violation of DPP rules, valiantly braved the cold and brought the awse instead: Matt K (DPs I and III), Twyllan (DP II), Henley (DP III), Sarah aka The Major (DP IV), Pablo (DPP virgin), Luke (DP IV), and of course Grimsey (DPs I, II, III and IV). Fucken <3.
(12:24am; 4min 28sec)
It was an unprecedentedly structured DP. As per a preestablished order of proceedings there was soup, then salad, then pie, then the merciless destruction and defilement of an old chair that had unforgiveably given way under DP I alumnus Bourkie at CH the night before. Then, naturally, muffins.
(1:16am; 2min 26sec)
Along the way there were tears (not really); there was laughter. It was epic.
(2:34am; 2min 49sec)
Posted at 07:11 AM in Adversity, Art, Audio, Awesomeness, Benevolence, Chaos, Current Affairs, Damage Control, Destruction, Discombobulation, Food, It'll All Come Good, Muntedness, People, Perseverence, Photos, Relational Aesthetics, Self Analysis, Should I Be Saying This On This Internet?, Swings & Roundabouts, The DPP, Things To Be Thankful For | Permalink | Comments (0)
Posted at 07:28 PM in Adversity, Art, Awesomeness, Bitches, Chaos, Destruction, Discombobulation, Domestica, Drugs, Goodbyes, Mentalism, Misanthropy, Mysteries, Newness, Night Time, Not Dead, People, Perseverence, Photos, Relational Aesthetics, Sadness, Schmobos, Shitfulness, Swings & Roundabouts, The Liberator Who Destroyed My Property Has Realigned My Perceptions, the walls are mushy, What Kind Of Fuckery Is This | Permalink | Comments (0)
Friday 11th June.
(My original plan was to throw it off the roof before destroying it. But unfortunately the ladder which would have facilitated this turned out to be at Toots's house. So it goes; that piece of shit still got completely annihilated. Result! etc)
Thursday 25th March.
With, y'know, Luke. Also starring Grimsey.
Some might argue that this audio is overlong and kind of banal in parts. I suspect even Tenex won't make it to the end this time. But I like it.
Saturday 20th - Sunday 21st February.
(See previous.)With Adam, Gab and Grimsey.
It was ace. Once again, got a shit-ton of audio - and once again (but even more so), it's pretty much solid gold. So instead of fretting about what to use and what not to use like I did over the DP III post, I decided to just stick it all up; fuck it.
Friday 12th February.
Starring Henley & Adele; 2003 & Danny (sans promised cheese platter, but I just can't stay mad at the guy); Lady GrimGrim & Jacqui; the fantastic Mr Kav; the ex-operative formerly known as Li Han, Blog Boy From Space (who hopefully won't object to me linking him old-school like that - because although Exaggerating Rumours is now four years old and obviously he's grown as a person since then etc blah blah, it's still genius which deserves wider exposure) - and of course Toots, who opted to turn up after everyone except Kav had gone home, because that is the way she motherfucking rolls.
Fair to say, went OFF.
No obligatory formula picture of everyone in the back garden, because for whatever reason (quite possibly because it's the way they motherfucking roll), the guests all opted to stay inside this time - a trend that, with the encroachment of winter, we were going to have to adapt to sooner or later anyway. But there's these ones.
In contrast to last time, when I accidentally deleted the audio directly after recording it, we successfully captured over sixty minutes of vox, much of it gold. Unfortunately that means I'm having a really hard time choosing clips. Maybe I'll put some up retrospectively & link back to it in a later post. We'll see.
In other news: if you happen to be in the region of the Abbotsford Convent at any point over the next week, I strongly advocate checking out the Prismatic Audit currently being undertaken there by Torie Nimmervoll & intended DP III invitee and amazing genius Jason Maling (who couldn't come, because he was too busy getting ready for the Prismatic Audit. That's okay, we'll get him next time).
I did today; it was great. I came home exhausted and collapsed at 6:30pm into some of the weirdest and most awesome dreams I've had in months. Now it's 2:30am and I'm blearly eating a pizza at Bimbo. But that's beside the point.
There will most likely be bloggage about both of these things. Until then: stay in the groove. Or, y'know, don't. It's Entirely Up To You (tm)! See if I care, blog readers. SEE IF I GIVE A FUCK.
This year was all about recovery. It started out in the absolute pits of hell, slowly got better, and - a few ickle problems here and there aside, but whatcha gonna do - ended all up in unmitigated gnarley.
As per last year I feel more like talking about people than doings or accomplishments. Specifically, and without wanting to get too gushy, all the people who've helped me in all their various ways to remember what the whole circus is about. Really forgot for a while there. Fucken' sucked.
So couldn't have done it without yiz.
The admittedly sometimes finite limitations of my resources notwithstanding, these people can - at any time, and to whatever extent they may deem necessary and/or desirable - stand the fuck under my umbrella.
I'd also like to extend a really colossal, biblical-epic-stylez "fuck you" to one or two other individuals whose selfish, infantile cuntishness and astonishing lack of Vision (tm), conversely, reeeallly hasn't helped. Anyone. But I won't. It won't help. We can only have faith that in time they will grow the hearts, brains, spines and souls they surprisingly appear to lack.
Having A Soul: It's Good.
Happy new year.
Vale SRC. I'm gonna miss you hugely in some ways; in other ways not so much. I'll certainly miss your Xmas parties. Or maybe I'll just crash them.
The following was captured at Harrie & Atkins' house, at some point quite far into the 17-odd hours' worth of extended shenanigans.
Messy night; messy audio. But I like it.
For the Facebook-equipped, here's a link to the Dinner Party Project manifesto.
This all started the night before G's Picnic at Prudence, when - in a sudden, entirely-non-drug-induced moment of feeling like I was peaking on fucking awesome drugs - I was compelled to inform my friends Vicwie & Kav that they would, at some point in the near future, be coming to dinner at my house.
Four other superstars from my work (including the legendary Bourkie) were subsequently invited. And Toots, obvs.
It occurred. It went off.
The rest is currently in the process of going down in relational aesthetics history.
(In accordance with her wishes, all of V*cw*e's audio parts have been edited out; the excisions are marked with bleeps.)
I heart Prudence.
(Starring Toots, Zack & Grimsey.)
Admittedly not to quite the full extent of last year's - but on the upside no one wound up in hospital this time, and no string of events which will lead to me being effectively completely shut down for the best part of the coming year were set in train. Which is always good.
On the downside, my Ixus disappeared - I won't say explicitly that Wouters stole it because, however plausible, this theory can't be proven beyond reasonable doubt - so there are no pictures. But a lot of audio was captured, and it's great.
I've produced a full transcript of the above clip, in the vague hope that this might help others to appreciate it almost as much as I do.
And this is me the morning[*] after:
[*] Morning, afternoon, whatever.
With Bourkie "B. Jerky" Bourke.
But a good night was had in the process.
ION: I caught up with my old arch-nemesis TAFKA Robert Henley last Friday. It was great. Love that guy's work. No, seriously.
I am still not dead. Better, even.
What else? I'm going to New York next month. I'm going to Thailand in November (probably). Then I'm going to Geneva in December. I might go to Norwich also. Toots has a friend there she wants to visit, and I want to read Adam Tenex's novel which he's apparently too lazy send to me.