...and bells on her toes...

I've been having a light hearted yet ongoing argument with Snooze over whether or not bells on bikes are compulsory. Well, turns out I'm wrong as Snooze has discovered courtesy of the Bicycle Victoria website.

Traffic regulations require a rider to have a bell fitted. The penalty for riding a bicycle without a bell is $50. The penalty refers specifically to a bell. The old definition of an audible warning device no longer applies - so you can't argue that your voice meets the regulations.

A bicycle for normal road use must be sold with 'an efficient bell or some other suitable audible warning device'.

OMGWTFBBQ indeed!

I can understand the point of cars being required to have horns, trams to have bells, trains hooters and emergency vehicles sirens, but bicycles!?

OK, so a bell on a bike might be handy to warn pedestrians of an approaching bike, BUT RIDING ON THE FOOTPATH IS ILLEGAL, so THAT can't be the reason.

So why else would you need be required at the point of a $50 fine to have a bell on your bike? To alert cars to your presence? As if anyone in a car is going to hear a pathetically pinging warning bell from a cyclist.

It's a silly rule.

Alexander Downer is a contemptible prick

That may come as a shock to some of you I realise, but not only does his smug private schoolboy voice make me want to smack him in his soft and spongey face, he has a habit of saying things that are so enraging that I...I...just can't even...

Needless to say, I was pretty much floored this morning listening to an interview recorded with Downer on ABC radio. In it, he assured the Australian public that David Hicks was just fine and that there was "no suggestion that he was suffering from mental illness".

If you haven't been keeping up, Terry Hicks, David's father, has recently been deeply concerned that David's mental health has significantly deteriorated in the last several months. It is a concern that seems to have been confirmed when David refused to take a phone call from his family at Christmas (an event that had taken months of arranging). They have had no contact with him since mid-2006.

So it must be a great comfort to be told by that simpering fuck-knuckle Downer that David is, in actual fact, just dandy.

And how does Dolly know this?

Because somebody told him. That's right.



Humanity: Oh, fair enough Alex. Was this a Psychologist?

Dolly: ...

Humanity: Some sort of impartial observer?

Dolly: ...

Humanity: An Australian official at least?




No, apparently, this "source" that Downer is flinging about as evidence that an Australian citizen who has been held more-or-less in isolation for five years without charge is not going insane, is not someone who can just be identified (duh), except to say that it is "a person" who comes from "another country" and that apparently David Hicks had agreed to the meeting.

But that's not the worst of it. I'll just let his words do the, well, talking:

*adopts best mincing voice*

There was no suggestion that he was suffering from mental illness, though no doubt he doesn't like being in Guantanamo Bay but that would, I suppose, be a definition of mental illness.

No, I don't imagine he LIKES being in Guantanamo either. But really, that's hardly grounds for mental illness is it... (!!?)

When asked about the dubious nature of this unidentified source, quoth he:

I'm not asking you to rely on it or not rely on it. I'm just letting you know what observation was made and you can take it or leave it.

I'm just going to, you know, say it and get it out there. I'm not asking you to BELIEVE me. Ha! Why would anyone take anything I ever say even remotely seriously. Silly sausages. Believe me, well I never *chuckles*.

The Australian Government's handling of David Hicks is simply disgraceful. That this smirking toad of a man can imply that really all that's wrong with Hicks is that he "doesn't like being in Guantanamo" and that he has been treated perfectly fairly, is repugnant.

I hope Downer enjoys the rest of his jaunt around New York. Gosh, it must be tough being him. Let's just hope he gets home OK and can enlighten us with further brilliant snippets from the annals of "things his friends have said to him".

I can't wait!

Arse hat.

Storm, meet teacup

I realise this is a couple of days late, but the excessive hysterics over the "ethnic violence" that "erupted" on the opening day of the Australian Open, has really annoyed me.

According to news reports based on an evidently small group of witnesses, a bunch of young men of Serbian and Croatian backgrounds (or at least wearing the flags) decided to get stuck into each other in the grounds of the Tennis Centre on Monday.

I've seen two lots of images of the "ethnic violence" - the only ones that appear to have been recorded. One is a series of still photographs from a Getty Images photographer, the other a more-or-less unviewable mobile phone video.



In each case, there seems to be a large number of shouty boys standing around trying to look tough, and (at most) eight or nine people actually DOING anything. Not only are the numbers involved small, but the "ethnic violence" looks to me very much like the famed fight scene from Bridget Jones Diary - lots of flailing of arms and legs and not a lot of substance.

Not that I would be doing anything remotely different in those circumstances, but it's not exactly Kosovo is it.



Reading between the lines (and I'd be happy to be corrected by anyone who actually SAW the event) it looks very much to me like a bunch of pimply adolescent boys have dressed up and gone to the tennis with the express purpose of antagonising another group and secretly hoping to get in a fight. When push has literally come to shove, only a couple of them have been brave enough to get involved and even then, the fighting seems to have taken the form of some half-hearted kicks and that's about it.

The Age, clearly trying not to overstate the situation said "the violence is believed to be unprecedented in the history of Grand Slam tennis" (!!!)

Now, I don't know if that's true or not, but I would be surprised if this was the first time ever that a fight has broken out in the grounds of a Grand Slam. The fact that these little turds were draped in Serbian and Croatian flags doesn't make it "ethnic violence" - it makes it a fairly pathetic schoolboy scrag-fight.

Seriously. It really has been a slow few weeks of news.

Alas!

Terrible news!

The most beautiful woman in the world and my not terribly secret love, Aiswarya Rai is to be married.

Curse you cruel fate - I held out such hope.



*sigh*

Wottup dawgs?

So, 2007 hey. How about it. Pretty exciting so far.

If anyone has found my blogging mojo, please return it forthwith.

Yours etc, Tom.

"The appreciation was all mine"

It is with something of a heavy heart that I return to this blog.

My absence over the last couple of weeks (as I'm sure you've gathered) was due to the show. In the last fortnight I have strengthened new friendships and rediscovered my love of acting. That it all ended so abruptly on Saturday night is difficult to handle - it leaves a void, a big hole that Christmas will (I'm sure) do it's best to fill.

Once again, our little theatre company has produced something quite extraordinary. We've been stretched to our absolute limits financially, mentally and physically. A production built for a massive professional theatre was poked and prodded into a tiny space and an even smaller budget with fantastic results.

The cast was/is simply magnificent. Not just astoundingly talented, but wonderful people - every one of them. I already miss them desperately.

Not to paint too rosy a picture. It was hard work. Every morning I would wake up feeling like I'd been physically beaten. Even taking afternoons away from work was not enough to stem the bone tiredness. A constant background hum of nerves accompanied me everywhere.

But that's why I love it. Mentally, socially, physically, every aspect of you is tested, pushed, stretched. It makes me feel like I'm really DOING something, that this is what I was built for.

There are so many thoughts and words whirling around my head that I can't possibly grab hold of them and line them up in a coherent post. So you will just have to bear with me until I calm down and equilibrium is restored.

Normal blogging will resume...eventually.

I have stories to tell, gold to deliver, but not today.

In the meantime, Merry Christmas to all.

There's no business etc.

So the show opens tomorrow night.

Melbourne readers should come along.

Seriously. It'll be heaps of fun and it looks HOTT.






That's all I've got.