My 'review' (ramble/rundown/highlights package) of the DAAS Kapital DVD launch.

So on April the 13^th at approximately 2pm on a Saturday I sat in a chair barely able to keep still from the excitement as Doug Anthony Allstars walked (or in the case of Tim – was wheeled) on stage and perched themselves on three stools.

Never in my whole life did I ever think I would get to witness such a thing. Tim lent back on his chair relaxed and confident, Richard sat on his usual side looking more the straight man than ever and Paul, who was more of his cheeky/charming GNW personality rather than his old DAAS one (much to the relief of the front row of aged Gen Xers) bounded around the stage and fidgeted more than enough to make up for the calm assured stillness of the other two. The whole afternoon felt a bit like a science fiction convention – which in a way I suppose it sort of was. There was a big screen behind them on which they played clips from DAAS Kapital. There were Psycho Bob, Flacco and Bob Downe reels and a lot of clips that were accompanied by stories about how Paul injured Rich in that scene or how Rich injured Paul in this other scene and the realisation that somehow Tim made it through the whole 2 seasons injury-free (‘You have to sleep with the right people’ says Tim).

At one point Ted Robinson (legend) wandered out and put up a crew photo. There were stories attached to some of the faces in the picture but more often than not one of them would fondly point to a face, say the name and mention how excellent the person was and the others would all agree with nostalgic smiles. It was wonderfully personal and at times it felt a little voyeuristic for the audience (in a good way).

We were told tales of the good ol’ days. Some of them were horrific, others merely disgusting and all of them entertaining. Most of the stories were told by either all three at once with confusing enthusiasm or by one Doug through the protestations and embarrassed giggles of the other two. And really, you have not lived until you’ve heard three 50 year old men giggling as they recall the porn related incidents of days gone by. 

Speaking of – did you know that Tim used to rip out graphic pictures of porn, write little things on them like 'Thanks for coming’ fold them up and distribute them to audience members throughout their shows? And that the porn Tim ripped the pics from came from their ‘large and eclectic’ personal collection? 

Paul said their touring vans used to be full of the most depraved porn you could possibly imagine and that when they dropped the vans off at the hire places they’d pretend to be a Christian outreach group and make the hire people hold hands and pray before they left. It was heartening to see that even after 20 odd years all three of them still carried on with what can only be described as childish delight at the thought of the looks on the faces of the poor people cleaning out the porn laden van of those lovely Christian boys. I always dread the day when 69 is no longer a funny number and watching the boys tonight gave me hope for the future of my own dirty mind.

Also, Paul Livingston came on! Really, it was all very exciting! Mostly he told stories about the horrible physical conditions he was forced to endure in the name of comedy. Even though he wasn't on as Flacco there was enough of a ghost of Flacco around him that it felt like we were getting 2 for 1 - the excellent Livingston and the alien Flacco. Kyhm Lam (AKA – the face of Shitzu Tonka and Richard Fidler’s wife) also made an appearance and proved herself to be charmingly endearing. And there were two failed attempts at an ‘Allstars’ chants from the audience – the first one prompting Tim to shout at us to ‘get it together’. The second one (started after Tim insisted there would be no singing) caused Paul to claim he thought we were shouting out ‘arseholes’.

As for the singing – right from the start we were told there would be no songs but I don't think anyone in the room believed it. In fact we were all so unconvinced this would actually be the case there was only a half hearted ‘Noooo’ from about a third of the audience the first time this was announced and no real protest at all any of the other times. So no one was surprised when they did bring out a guitar for Rich but that doesn’t mean the audience didn’t completely lose their shit because, well, we did. We lost our shit so hard! I think my enthusiasm may have frightened my colleague, Jason, who had come along with me. 

The first song was the first song they ever sang together which was a 99% straight and 100% excellent mash up thingy (I think?) of A Little Ray of Sunshine by the Axioms and My Girl by the Temptations. 

And then they sang War Song and broke all of our hearts. 

Ted Robinson (legend) decided at the last minute to play the clip of them singing War Song from DAAS Kapital on the screen behind them while they were singing it live. Somehow this really brought it home how much time had passed and the... finiteness of time in general. I’m not afraid to say I shed a manly tear. I’m not even embarrassed to admit that I stopped breathing after about the first verse because I wanted the moment to last forever. It was breathtakingly beautiful seeing these three men singing over such young versions of themselves. Okay, maybe I’m a little embarrassed I wrote that but I’m also feeling defensive enough about it not to hit the delete button. So there. Whatever. Get off my back already, jeeze!

Anyway then they left the stage and the lights went down so we could all yell encore before they came on to do the last song which they would have done anyway. Well that’s what was supposed to happen. What really happened was Paul and Rich left the stage while Tim remained stranded on his stool making comical gestures asking if anyone was going to come and get him. Then Paul and Rich came back (‘That would have been really fuckin’ good if you’d left the stage, Tim’ says Paul – ‘I’m a poor little cripple’ says Tim but the crowd was laughing too hard at Paul to hear Tim’s excellent DAAS Kapital reference). 

It was all very jolly until Paul slapped us in the face with the bittersweet announcement that the last song of the night was to be the last song they ever wrote and will ever sing together. It was a beautiful song called Saturday which they wrote recently to replace their cover of the Velvet Underground’s Sunday Morning (the new song and the explanation are on the DVD). It was stunning. Then very abruptly the show was over for reals. Everyone left the stage and that was it. There was nothing else to do but queue up for an hour and a half to get our DVD’s signed.

Now, before I go on let me apologise in advance for the following line –

I ACTUALLY MET THE DOUG ANYTHONY FUCKING ALLSTARS! HOLY SHIT GUYS!

*cough*

It was everything it should have been. Paul shouted at me (‘Come on woman!’ – because I didn’t move up fast enough), Richard apologised for him and very sweetly introduced himself and Tim told me to sell more of his book (he knows I work in a bookshop and here it is [it's what he'd want me to do, but also it is an excellent book]) and to top it off Khym Lam complimented my TARDIS shirt! AND I DIDN’T EVEN SAY ANYTHING STUPID! It could not have been more perfect! After we left the Town Hall Jase and I were so bewildered and filled with adrenalin over the whole afternoon that we couldn’t think of anything to do but burst out laughing. 

I have to admit as I was leaving the Town Hall I secretly felt really sad that I was heading back into a world where the Doug’s would never be together again.

Still feel a bit depressed about that actually. But it's a good kind of depressed I suppose. A sort of nice, comfortable there's-an-end-in-sight depressed. 

I've always said all the 'intelligent' things I know I've learnt from Terry Pratchett and the Doug Anthony Allstars. Now the Doug's have taught me one last lesson, something about myself - that I can be a really sappy SOB when I want to be! 

Disclaimer: I may have misremembered some things because of being human and not a remembering machine. 

What the Doug Anthony Allstars meant (and mean) to me.

I grew up in a house that firstly due to strict religious reasons, then secondly due to too many kids to put up with this reasons didn’t particularly encourage questioning authority (particularly if that authority was mum). There were 5 kids in the house and it was always loud so no music during the day – the combination of music over the sound of kids drove mum nuts. Mum and dad had control of the TV at night when anything interesting might be on so it was Australia’s Funniest or Hey Hey then bedtime kids! I lived in Mount Isa - an isolated town in outback Queensland and there was no internet.

Basically what I’m trying to say is I was pretty much a blank book until I was around 16. I had no idea what I liked or didn’t like and just used to copy my friends, go with what Dolly magazine said that month or just agree with whatever mum said. I did like things but my heart was never really into them, I sort of just liked them to fit in and to make birthday/christmas gift buying easier for people. Then a science teacher at my school recommended I listen to the Doug Anthony Allstars.

And I did. And I have not been the same since. I used to sneak into the lounge room after my parents had gone to bed, put Dead and Alive on volume 1 (the lowest possible before mute) and shove a pillow in my face. I remember I didn’t understand about 80% of what was being said but still somehow found it hilarious (possibly forbidden nature of the content and the fact that I was out of bed at night maybe?). I would pause the cd every time I heard a word I didn't know and write down (in the dark because I couldn’t risk waking up mum with the light!) then bring the list into school the next day for my infinitely patient science teacher to explain. From recollection some of the list included:

• What’s Waco? 
• Who’s Margaret Thatcher? 
• Who’s Michael Hunt?
• Who’s Rigor Mortis (To his credit he somehow managed to explain the last two without making me feel stupid at all and without saying cunt)
• What’s necrophilia? OH! It really is that? Why would anyone want to do that? Sex is gross enough with live people isn't it?! (Did I mention he was infinitely patient and very good at not being embarrassed? And that I was incredibly naive?)

The Doug Anthony Allstars totally blew my mind. They were mean and it was funny! They were saying stupid things and it was funny! They were saying disgusting, rude and adult things and it was somehow funny and CLEVER! They were so loud and rough and they didn’t care what ANYONE thought! And what on earth is a kerrowax and a dogs toy esky and why is that line funny?!

I Fuck Dogs was pretty much the one song that needed no explanation! Actually, one of the few times I got in trouble at school was because of that song. I accidentally printed the lyrics to a teacher’s staff room. It was tracked down to me and the teacher sternly waved the paper in my face stating she was shocked that I had come up with such filth. Whereas before I would have apologized profusely, felt humiliated and probably cried, this time I had to bite my cheek ‘Oh no Miss! I could never come up with anything like that on my own!’ I remember being delighted that she thought I could never be that filthy when really I was thinking I could never be that good. It was a small thing for most people but big for me.

From that moment on I was hungry for everything funny and new. I would loudly (and often inappropriately) quote and sing the Dougs any opportunity I had. From them I learnt comedy was totally a thing. I also learnt fuck authority and fuck what people think! My parents divorced soon after and I stayed with my dad. With mum and half the kids out of the house I had proper TV access. I bought Dead and Alive on video (from the local Christian bookshop! – it was the only ABC centre in Mount Isa) and watched it nonstop until I knew every word and every stutter by heart (Side note: My proudest achievement as a big sister is that I got my 10 yr old brother hooked on the Dougs. He could and still can sing along loudly and proudly to the Dougs. Joan of Arc was the funniest because it would come complete with an always hilarious attempt to do the, err… dance move by himself).

I was also able to convince dad to get Austar (Foxtel) for the comedy channel and from there, there was no going back. I’d be up at 3am under a blanket in the lounge sitting an inch away from the TV (volume again) watching the Big Gig. I learnt about other comedians and for the first time in my 17 years of life became actually properly interested in something.

I felt awake for the first time ever. Looking back – that was the time I stopped being a blank book for other people to write in. It was the time I finally took up the pen for myself. And drew penises on the pages.

My Domus Socius Arachnid and Me

Dear Spider

We have been living together for around 6 months now and I feel it’s time we had a chat. I admit compared to most of my other housemates you are something of a dream. For example you’re never late with the rent (well I’m sure you wouldn’t be if you paid rent) and you don’t eat my food. In fact you eat the things that would try to eat my food so really, you’re probably the best housemate I’ve ever had. But there are a few issues that need to be discussed. I’d like to start with your current sleeping arrangements.

While I am very very happy for you to continue sleeping in places that I will never see I would like to name a few areas that I consider to be ‘off bounds’ in the future. Firstly, the taps; obviously being a spider you don’t actually have any self awareness which means I am forced to project a personality of my own making upon you. This isn’t good because I am a somewhat paranoid person with low self esteem and can only imagine that when I turn on my taps to wash my hands and you leap out at me, you are purposely trying to humiliate me and you get some kind of sick pleasure out of watching me scream, jump back and fling hand soap everywhere. So please no more taps. This goes the same for any drawers, cupboards and shelves I use regularly as well as anywhere in my bedroom (especially my ceiling!) and my bathroom. From now on your allocated ‘sleeping areas’ are as follows: The space above my closets and anywhere in the kitchen except the fridge. I think you’ll find this to be generous amount of space considering you are tiny and I pay all the rent.

I also want to talk about movements and general comings and goings. I am not an unreasonable person, I can see how it might be necessary for you to get from point A in my house to point B in my house, and how to do that you have to move you long hairy spider legs in some kind of ordered fashion (legs 4-2-3-1 first if the internet is to be believed) but I would just prefer it if you didn’t perhaps do it in front of me. And if you must do it in front of me, please do not run!! Because, you see, unlike you I only have two eyes and mine don’t even work that well, so when I see a slightly blurry, leggy, potentially poisonous black thing moving fast across my wall even if it’s running in the opposite direction, I am forced to assume you are launching a full blown attack on me. Obviously this leaves me with no choice other than to scream, run away backwards and avoid the room I saw you in for at least 36 hours or until the fear dies down, whichever comes first. I think you will agree that we both don’t want that.

And finally: your webs. Will you please stop leaving them everywhere? It’s disgusting.

So that’s it! I am happy for you to continue staying here for free but unless you can agree to and follow the house rules above, I’m afraid I will to have to serve you with an eviction notice and I don’t want to be the one who makes things awkward between us.

Thanks,

Dani

DANI'S TOP TEN SCARY THINGS FROM SCARY MOVIES

Today a friend on mine, Fiona, who is a part of an absolutely Excellent movie podcast which I cannot recommend enough (Remote Viewing) did some research on me for their halloween horror themed episode.

It got me a thinkin' about scary movies and then this happend:

DANI'S TOP TEN SCARY THINGS ABOUT SCRAY MOVIES

1. Small children. Little girls, little boys, laughing, crying, talking, not talking... if it's a human being and it’s still in the early stages of its life it's terrifying.

2. Strings. Specifically this kind (HINT: Does not link to picture of kitten with ball of)

3. Odd people. You know the kind. At first glance they may look perfectly normal but on closer inspection (usually from behind a cushion if you're me) you will notice that maybe their fingers are slightly elongated and narrow, or their grin too fixed, or their eyes are too stare-y.

4. Fingers*. I know I mentioned it above but fingers are just fucking creepy. Humour me and make your own fingers crawl across the desk you’re at now or even better, run them up your arm. See? They even sound scary. And. THEY LOOK LIKE SPIDERS!!!! SPIDERS STUCK ON YOUR HANDS!!!!!! AND YOU CAN’T GET THEM OFF!!!!!!!

5. See above but with fingernails. And double.

6. Nothing. To be more specific, nothing is something with a perfectly natural explanation which makes it nothing. Except the perfectly natural explanation for the nothing has a perfectly natural explanation as to why the first perfectly natural explanation is not actually a perfectly natural explanation which turns the nothing into something. That all actually makes sense. You may need to draw a diagram. Or just watch Paranormal Activity.

7. Mirrors. And reflections of any kind. This applies to real life as well as in movies.

8. Whistling. As seen probably before anywhere else, here. But more recently here, here, and of course here (actually I can’t tell if those last two are the same or not. though I'm sure the above mentioned Fiona will know).

9. Things in the Background. Usually these things do a really fast walk past in the background, almost always across a hallway or narrow alley of some kind and sometimes are seen in Reflections. Normally they appear as nothing more than a shadow or occasionally a small child (see 1). Optional: Entire orchestra hitting a note to emphasise the scare.

10. This face when it’s so subtly placed that by the time you work out why you’re suddenly paralysed with fear it’s gone. (But gone where?)


Okaaaay! Now I have scared myself silly googling and YouTubing daemon faces (scarier then regular old demon faces apparently) I am going to watch Pixar movies and eat cheese and drink pepsi max until my head explodes from happy then I'm going to go to sleep with all the lights on.

Pre-emptive rebuttal (just a ‘Buttal’ then?):
REGARDING CLOWNS: I admit a few years ago I would have added clowns to this list and while I agree that there are still some pretty scary individual clowns out there frankly the Insane Clown Posse has made clowns as a Thing ridiculous again. It's impossible not to look at them and either laugh and/or feel sorry for them which, traditionally was the reaction sought after back in the day. So good on the ICP for upholding the time-honoured clowning ethos!

*The one exception to number 4's Fingers rule is Thing from The Addams Family. But not his girlfriend, Lady Fingers was the scariest thing on that show.

Also, this:

Diary of a Temporary Cat Owner

Day One of being a temporary cat owner:

Dear readers,

Last night Lou dropped off his two cats. Both are pitch black. The girl one is called Stella (Steeeelllllaaaaaa!!!!!! [DAAS reference there for anyone who cares for it]) and the boy one is called Max. Stella disappeared as soon as she arrived prompting Lou and I to turn my house inside out looking for her. After a search that involved moving the bookshelves into my room and stripping my bed of it's blankets we eventually found her in a minute gap in between my bed and my bedside drawers, ending my half hour of feeling like the worst friend ever because I lost a cat before he even left. I have since fitted Stella with a collar and bell. I feel a bit mean about this but this is the only way I’m not going to be constantly worried about where the hell she is.

Max, I didn’t have to worry about in regards to hiding. What I did have to worry about was his inherent evilness rising to the surface. As soon as he was released from his cage he was out casing the joint, a low growl permanently escaping his little cat throat. A low growl, which increased and turned into a hackles raised, back arched, teeth bared full on hiss, as I got closer to him. Max also claimed my Lady Cave (my library) for himself and it seems I have been banned from it. I will have to spend the next month reading and watching only the books and dvd’s I had left off the shelves. And twice I have moments of only semi-consciously obeying some kind of incommunicable sense of self preservation and slowly turning around on the spot to be hit by a rush of pure fear upon seeing a pure black cat sitting perfectly straight staring at me with eyes full of casual malevolence. A look which was replicated with an added touch of disgust and contempt as he watched me sans clothes as I got ready for my shower.

My first night, last night, was hell. Firstly I live alone and when you live alone and you’re asleep, ancient survival instinct will kick in and wake you up every 20 minutes or so to tell you there shouldn’t be the sound of little feet walking about in your dark empty house. On top of that, a different kind of less important instinct will force you to get up at 2 in the morning, blindly shove your glasses on your face and walk out to the lounge to see if it’s the couch or the chair Max is scratching. These same senses will obviously neglect to remind you that Lou bought the cats scratching post; and that both cats are black so that’s not an odd shaped shadow on the floor, that is a cat and you should try not to step in it. It’s just a small scratch I’m ok.

Since I started my day apologising to Max and deciding I didn’t need to go to into my bathroom after all when he hissed at me from my bathmat, you can imagine I was more than a little nervous as to the reception I would get when I got home after work. I braced myself as I got ready to enter my house this afternoon (right foot shoved in first to block potential escapees) and decided to take the advice everyone had been giving me. I decided tonight I was going to Assert my Dominance. No more Mr Nice Girl. Err... if that’s ok with you Max. Is it ok? I waited until Max got all growly and in the manner of someone ripping a band-aid off yelled at him ‘Maaax… NO!!’ and then pretended in a manner that wasn't at all suggesting I was running away that I had to be in another room urgently. I’m very proud to say it appears to have worked. Or Max has switched to another form of torture. He appears to be alternating between wanting to sit on my keyboard (never has my delete button been used to much in so small amount of time) and wanting to sit on my head.

Well dear readers, on that positive note I must leave you. I have to go wash the cat hair off my tongue.

Farewell.

How I Became a Famous Novelist - Review

This is a review for the excellent book How I Became a Famous Novelist by Steve Hely (a writer for, among other things, 30 Rock and American Dad). I love this book. It's one of the best, cleverest and funniest I've read all year.

Original review found here: http://www.readings.com.au/review/how-i-became-a-famous-novelist-by-steve-hely


How I Became a Famous Novelist By Steve Hely.

In strewn banners that lay like streamers from a long ago parade the sun’s fading seraphim rays gleamed onto the hood of the old Ford and ribboned the steel with the meek orange of a June tomato straining at the vine.

If you read that sentence and thought the words flowed like a freshly dipped brush painting an image on the canvas of your mind then Steve Hely’s How I Became a Famous Novelist is most definitely not for you.

Dissecting best sellers with the detached coldness of a serial killer no literary genre is safe from slacker Pete Tarslaw when he decides he will become a famous novelist in time to humiliate his ex-girlfriend at her wedding. Using the 12 (until now) unwritten Rules of Best Sellers including Rule 6: Evoke confusing sadness at the end; Rule 7: The prose should be lyrical; and (my personal favourite) Rule 9: At dull points include descriptions of delicious meals, Tarslaw succeeds in his quest. But when you create a novel by putting together pieces of other novels then you really should know (especially if you claim to be a fan of ‘real’ literature) that what you’re going to end up with is Frankenstein’s monster and that’s exactly what Tarslaw gets.

E.B White once said, “Analyzing humor is like dissecting a frog. Few people are interested and the frog dies of it”. Until How I Became a Famous Novelist the same cannot have been said about literature, there are whole genres and sub-genres of books analysing books about how to write books. Steve Hely, the Dexter Morgan of the publishing world has changed that, I can promise you, you will never be able to read a book the same way again. In fact, I’m issuing you a challenge. Read this book. Go on. I dare you.