Wednesday, February 21, 2007


The symptoms continue, but rather than whine about myself, I have decided to post a few links to stuff I find interesting.

Here are some modified romance novel covers I found amusing.

Tyrone Brown
looks to be getting out soon after only seventeen years in prison. That's the problem with getting tough on drugs - lack of political will.

And here (and possibly only for those of you interested in Australian Rules football) is a partial list of what happens when you get testosterone-fueled young men and subject their behaviour to scrutiny.

This last is a contentious issue, and you can ask three different people and get eight different opinions. Bearing in mind everyone is ignorant until proved guilty yadda yadda (although it's a lot harder to get proved guilty if you've got a five hundred thousand dollar a year lawyer than if you're the aforementioned Tyrone Brown) , it's disturbing to see the sheer frequency of reports of sexual assault and violence against women in this list.

I don't know if professional sports players are more likely than average to commit sexual assaults. On the one hand the club culture supports them. It gives them a feeling of invulnerability that is all too often justified - try searching the list for AFL players actually convicted of sexual assault - and the clubs rewards richly on the playing field what society only ineffectually punishes off it. These are young men selected for their ability to physically and mentally dominate their opponents.

On the other hand, and I don't know if it's true - who knows if those statistics are that far from the average? Perhaps we see a high rate of sexual assault in this population because we are looking for it, because we subject these men to more scrutiny. Who knows? Maybe the only thing more dangerous to a woman than a strong, aggressive, physically dominating young man is a number of them working in a team.

Christ knows. And this without the whole debate as to whether we want good footballers or good people. Do we want players who can kick goals or do we want people who have worked in soup kichens? When it comes to midfielders maybe we pick Ben Cousins (brilliantly skilled elite athlete with alleged links to organised crime) rather than the Dalai Lama (some ball-handling skills but probably vulnerable to physical pressure and hasn't really performed in front of goal) because the purpose of sport is essentially combative. It is a form of war. We watch because we want to see our enemies destroyed, their cities overthrown, their fields sown with salt.

And if it's a war, how do women usally go in wars?

Anyway. Enough misery. Will post again soonish, do comments hopefully tomorrow.

By the way - a quick poll. Toby found the following

image on the net and says it is a dead ringer for me - it is actually Mad King Ludvig II of Bavaria. He actually had to call his wife in and exclaim upon the fact, remarking particularly upon the eyes. I do not believe this to be the case. Few of you will not have seen me in vivo, and even fewer will have seen me in my full-length ermine cloak, but any opinions on this matter would be gladly received.

Thanks for listening,


Blogger Juanita J. Sanchez said...

An uncanny resemblance! (I'm just guessing, does my vote count?)

10:48 PM  
Blogger TOBY said...

Well, he wouldn't see it would he? People are forever looking at photos or video (or in this case eerily presentient oil on canvas)of themselves and exclaiming upon the fact that it bears little to no resemblance to the lighter, younger, sexier image of themselves that they carry around in their heads.
But shave the hair to a half-inch, trim the beard, and there indeed is the bronzed one we all know and love.
And just for the record, this is actually, incredibly, how he dresses in real life; this is how he sweeps into the pub of a friday night (usually to the blast of a few bars of Tannhauser on the trumpets)and makes us all kiss the hem of his robe. In vain do we try to persuade him of the vainglourious folly of it all. He merely brushes our objections aside with a high-pitched titter and a wave of his ring-encrusted hand, then instructs the 'slovenly bar wench' to bring him a 'full-brothed flaggon of mead for his royal self and this retinue of wastrel indolents'.
But seriously folks, I compare the man to a king and what thanks do I get for it? None! Okay; so said king was madder than Micheal Jackson, but so what?

11:24 PM  
Anonymous foilwoman said...

I bet you look just scrumptious in the ermine. Your romance novel cover would read something like: "Kiss Me Or I'll Kill More Chinchillas" or something like that. Send photos now. Or post them.

1:46 AM  
Blogger Camilla said...

That does look startlingly like you. *Now* will you tell me how you kept the ermine robe out of your bike spokes?

Those book covers were hilarious! :D


5:18 AM  
Blogger Danny said...

Fuck my old boots!!! It DOES look like you - or a bastardized version of Orson Welles (who you look like at times, in certain light with the right beer goggles on).

Tell you what - wear robes next time, strike a regal pose and we'll check it all out. Mind you, would you rather be a King or a Quen, luvvie!

7:43 AM  
Blogger Benedict 16th said...

Mad stare off to the left, ponsey pseudo-afronted stance and body language. Give him a number 3 and keep the Fu-Man-Chu facial growth, and I have seen you weild a Sai like that before as well. As for the gown, wasn't that the one you wore to your medicine graduation ceremony?


Little Benny's 0.75 birthday party is Sunday March 4th 2pm - Be there or else!
Foil Innana Prom CookieM and all else - you are also invited...

10:33 PM  
Blogger Bronze John said...

Okay.... even as we speak our staffers are counting ballots, and tallying up dimpled chads (see the wikipedia article on chads. I don't know about dimpled Chads, but I may have met a swinging one).

Obviously first results are too close to call and it looks at this stage as though the decision could rest on as few as seven votes - the seven votes I will be lodging pretty damn soon denying any and all resemblance between me and some Teutonic mad guy with a beard.

Now, where's my bar wench?

9:13 PM  
Anonymous Mr Lissome said...

On the evidence of my recent visit, you are far more likely to be able to wield that sword more effectively than him regardless of the similarity of facial hair. Also remember that Lacrosse, 1 of the most physically tough games/war played today was originally a 3+ day "game" played by 100+ per side teams of Native American Women.

2:22 AM  

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