The War in Iraq an alternate strategy

Imagine if they had just got B52 bombers and filled them with US $100.00 bills and shovelled the cash out over Iraq instead of invading. If they did that as an alternativ­e strategy how many plane loads would it have taken to match what they have spent on the invasion and occupation­. Don't mention the dead. Don't mention the maimed or the homeless or the orphans. 4000+ young Americans that should not be dead. Tens of thousands of Iraqi women and children would still be alive. I'm sure with my plan the occasional Iraqi would have been hit with a wad of 100s and killed instantly and the occasional casualty would occur with one of the money shovellers falling out of the planes. But generally my plan of carpet bombing Iraq with 100 dollar bills would have worked. It would have been successful and it would have signalled progress in the state of middle east affairs. It would be seen as refreshing America trying a new adult approach to foreign relations. It would have meant freedom for the people of Iraq. This strategy would have proven infinately more productive than the current approach. And except for the unlucky and uncoordina­ted no one would have gotten hurt.

I just read the last post and My god I go on with some shit sometimes. I’m not cranky I’m lovely. I’m an ordinary man who desires nothing more than an ordinary chance to do exactly what he likes and do precisely what he wants. An average man am I. With no eccentric whim. Who likes to live his life free of strife. Doing what ever he thinks is right for him. An ordinary man. I’m a very gentle man. Even temperred and good natured who you’ll never hear complain. Who has Lysergic acid diethylamide by the quart in every vein. A patient man am I down to my finger tips. The sought who never would never could let an insulting word escape his lips. Just an ordinary man.

All my attempts to reach Grover Norquist have been thwarted. My fear is that I’ll never get the chance to let him know how I feel about him.   On my journeys around Huffington Post I’ve discovered someone equally deserving my attentions. Pamela Geller. She inspired that fuckwit in Norway with her blog Atlas shrugged. She pretends to be paranoid and delusional to sell her shit to the genuinely paranoid and delusional. Any way I’m waiting to see how long it is before she blocks me. The Tea Party and Grover were quite quick. Here’s record of what I’ve been writing on her facebook wall before it gets deleted.

The first post on Pamela Geller's facebook wall.

It's not the Islamists you need to worried about it's the Australians. They've already taken over Los Angeles and they're moving East. You can't get a job in Hollywood if you aren't Australian or at the very least know one. I predict America will have an Australian born President in 20 years. You'll have Kangaroos hopping down 5th Avenue. Meat pies, sausage rolls, Silverchair. The Wiggles. Run for the hills the Wiggles is coming.

Robbie Hudson Crocodile Dundee, Nicole Kidman, Keith Urban. Free healthcare, wet stubbie competitions, cricket! If we don't do something about the Aussies we're all doomed Doomed DOOMED. Doomed I tells ya Doomed.

Robbie Hudson If you're in New York you need to take action. There's already a cell on Broadway. Priscilla Queen of the Desert is what appears to be a wacky musical about drag queens but it is in fact the East Coast Australian invasion cell. You can't trust drag queens. Stop reading this post and get down to the Palace Theatre and stop the barbarian horde otherwise we're doomed Doomed DOOMED I tells ya.

Ozzie Bear Nice try Hudson but it's too late. You didn't mention the biggest Aussie of all Rupert fucking Murdoch. We control your films we control Broadway. We control your media. We have used your own television against you. Destroyed your economy. We are behind the Tea Party. We own the Rupublican Party. Well Rupert owns the Republicans. We don't need to invade we all ready own you.

Robbie Hudson Nooooooooo it's too late.

Robbie Hudson Russell Crowe, the chick in Damages, Wilfred, Cate Blanchett, Olivia Newton John, Exchange students, The guy from the mentallist and Even Sookie Stackhouse who is from NewZealand is one of their agents. How many Aussies are in the NBL and the NFL. The Moooslims have only been at it since the fifties. They (the Australians) started in the 30s. Does the name Errol Flynn ring any bells?

Ozzie Bear Yes the media, every college campus, hollywood, television, sports, the music industry, and every Republican is part of the plan. There is no aspect of American life that is not controlled by Australians. Heath Ledger was one of our agents emphasis on the WAS. He fell in love with that Olson twin and was going to defect. We used to own Julian Assange till he started Going Rogue. Moohahhahhahaha. We own you and there's nothing you can do.

Why am I so cranky?

I'm having one of those calm moments when the brain slows down to a speed where it can go "what the fuck just happened?"   The last thing I remember was following a Facebook post from Huffington Post after the Murdoch thing started breaking and I have no memory of the time in-between.  Four weeks ago I didn't know who Rebekah Brooks was.  I'd hardly heard of Michele Bachmann and her cuddly hubby, Marcus.

Grover Norquist - What's not to love?

The weirdest thing that has happened in the last three weeks from what I can tell from emails and Facebook is that I've fallen insanely in love with a guy called Grover Norquist.  According to Hotmail email records,  I've sent over 300 emails to Grover's  organisation.  I read a few.  Here's a couple of samples. "I never saw it coming. I never knew I could feel this way and for it to happen so fast. The emotion was almost instant and overwhelming. I feel so ashamed. I feel so dirty."  You forget to eat or sleep for three days and this kind of shit starts to happen!  But this blog isn't about the angel on earth that is Grover Norquist. This blog is about why I've responded to him as I have.  To ask the question that I've asked myself so many times in the past. Why am I so cranky?

I've got to write this down while I've still got it...
1st week, Two stage 1's.  2nd week, 1 stage and one stage 2.  Week 3, 2 two stage 2's.  Week 4, one stage 2 and one stage 3.  Week 5, two stage 3's.  Week 6, one stage three.

Anyway. `Why am I so cranky?'  I was just asking myself.

For some reason I was thinking about not having seen `The Hurt Locker'.  I went off onto another tangent thinking about where the Hurt Locker is set and it occurred to me; that America conducts it's wars in suburbia.  It didn't in Vietnam. It took the fight to the people.  What occurred to me is that America always involves the local population in the games it loves to play.  I think what's happening in Kandahar and Baghdad is like the London blitz one house at a time.  How long did the blitz go for?  The Yanks have been there for 8 years. I wonder if they've gotten to everyone?  If they've kicked in the doors and pointed guns at everyone in Baghdad and now they're starting again.  Working the same way telemarketers do - going through the phone book.

The thing with Iraq is that I read somewhere (and that's a shockin' thing to write) but I can't remember the source.  Anyway, what I read was that most of the population of Iraq were under 19, or women and the elderly.  So America in 2002 invaded a nation of women and children and old people. Good one! A few months back I was checking out Laos on Wikipedia.  I read somewhere that 46 million bombs were dropped on Laos but I was wrong it was 260 million.  Some of them cluster bombs and 80 million didn't go off.  Now that's what I call taking the fight to the people.  The other article I read about Laos sort of implied they just dropped them on Laos because `You know, er, um, shiyit you gotta drop those bombs somewhere.'   It's like Laos was one cog on a wheel.  The other cogs?  Shareholders, the people who make the bombs, the people who buy the bombs, the people who drop the bombs, and the people who have the bombs dropped on them.  I don't think they can just make them and sell em and put them in a warehouse they have to drop them. The boom factor is an essential cog in the wheel as it ensures the strength of the shareholder cog in the wheel and vice versa. And who doesn't like a good explosion. WTF has this all to do with the last 3 weeks?

It all started with the Murdoch thing. A seemingly innocent post on Facebook.  Down a rabbit hole of obsession, lust, facial hair, and ultimately true love.  A greater understanding of the universe and the knowledge that there is a god and he's name is Grover.  (Shit I think I keep slipping back into psychosis.) More food - more medicine!  Huffington Post is the 9 levels of Internet hell that Dante warned us about.
I just had another coherent moment!  The only time I spend away from Huff Post is the 25 minutes I spend watching the Clone Wars.  The breakage becomes clearer.  As I was saying Huff Post is hell. You go in but you can't come out. What started as a fun and exciting soap opera quickly turned American and then went all horrible to what was it a week ago. That fuckwit in Norway!  Boys with their fucken' guns       again.  I think I bowed my head for 24 hours and when I looked up I had Leland Palmer eyes.  Grover was the first thing I saw.

Grover Norquist is a very cuddly hot guy with facial hair. Facial hair that's about an `8' on the 1 to 10 gayness of facial hair scale. Somewhere between George Michael and Tom Selleck. He heads... I mean Grover heads,  actually, I have no fucken' idea what the word for what he heads is, but he heads something that made a whole heap of Republican people sign something that is unconstitutional, breaks their oath of office and is down right tacky. "Everyone knows that I'm a greedy, heartless, asshole so who the fuck cares if I put it in writing?"

The only TV I'm watching is `Star Wars, The Clone Wars' and `Wilfred'.  I tear myself away from Huff Post.  I also watch the `Six million dollar man' at 1.00 am.  So beautiful. Those legs!  What I don't understand about the Six million dollar man is they spent all that money and they couldn't get a shirt that fit!  The pants were sensational but the shirts were always 2 sizes too small.  I shouldn't complain.  You know he never ever really filled out.  Lee Majors pretty much remained a beanpole most of his career. Unlike Harrison Ford.

From `Star Wars' to the `Temple of Doom' what a wondrous thing to behold. What a piece of work. Which reminds me, `Clone Wars' yeah.  I don't know if you can understand this,   but for us Star Wars fans, there used to be this divine agony you'd experience between films. An expectation and hunger.  Dangerous hunger!  Hungry people do stupid things. The Star Wars Christmas Special for instance. Fucken' Ewok movies!  It would've been mind blowing as a child to know that when I was forty something, I would be able to get a daily hit.  A nice 25 minute hit every day.  Pure, uncut, no fucken' Ewoks.  I love the Clone Wars but there's something that's going on that my stomach has picked up.

People who don't suffer sensitive stomach issues are at a disadvantage to people who have sensitive tummies.  They only have their brains to rely on where as we have brains and stomachs.  Ever thought that some one was bullshitting you like a lawyer or a real estate agent?  Or you thought "this person is a con-artist."   Well if you are prepared to maintain, feed, and most importantly, listen to your ulcer, it can give you powers bordering on psychic abilities.  Abilities that go beyond the spotting con-artists and real estate agents at 50 metres.  So while I'm thoroughly enjoying Clone Wars my stomach is sending signals. Weird ones. It goes beyond the fact I know that all the characters are going to die horrible deaths.  The clones are very disturbing.

Anyway That's it for why I'm so cranky, part one.  I've had too much medicine and too much food. Come back tomorrow to see how Grover Norquist, Laos, and the Clone Wars are connected.

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Review

 I've been excited for the last couple of months about Newcastle Theatre Company's production of `Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf' which is now playing.  I've loved this play since I was a teenager. I saw it first in November 1983 with Robyn Nevin at the Royal in Sydney and later at the Civic Playhouse.  I've seen the Burton/Taylor film and there are some clips of Chicago's Steppenwolf Theatre production on Youtube starring Tracey Letts and the incredible Amy Morton.

From Left, Howard Rawlinson, Wendy Ratcliffe, Graham Wilson
and Nyssa Hamilton struggle with their lines in `Who's afraid of
Virginia Wolf?'

I've always loved watching the main character Martha be destroyed by her browbeaten husband George. This revolting, degenerate woman being demolished is something I've taken joy in watching and I was expecting the same kind of payoff.  However this is a completely different take on the material,  much more interesting than what I'd seen before.  I think the basis for this production's success lies in the casting.

The director, Janet Nelson didn't follow the instructions in the text as a guide for the casting. Martha wasn't older than George, and Honey wasn't a stick figure.  Small adjustments were made to the script to accommodate the cast.  I've always seen Martha as a grotesque, disfigured soul viciously lashing out for her own entertainment.  Wendy Ratcliffe creates a beautiful Martha, bordering on glamorous. She took Martha and made her own interpretation smarter, cooler, vulnerable, and believable.  I could never understand how she could seduce the young biologist when she herself was so revolting physically and emotionally. Wendy Ratcliffe's Martha was not a villainous caricature this was a real person.

I've always seen George as a powerless and abused man, equal to Martha only in his malice and desperation.  Howard Rawlinson gives us instead an intelligent and resourceful George.  What he shows us is his love for his wife and he uses to redeem her rather than destroy her.  What I've seen before are Georges that cripple Martha. This production is about consolidation and reunion. This was a love story between two really fucked up people.  Howard Rawlinson stole the show and transformed George from pathetic to heroic.

Nyssa Hamilton created an adorable Honey.  As the play progresses she reveals Honey's own deep rooted emotional dysfunction and dishonesty.  Honey is usually played as a one dimensional ditz but Nyssa Hamilton gave her some real inner conflict and depth.  The voice she gave Honey was also fantastic.  The kind of loud brainless tone you might hear if you watch `The View'.

Graham Wilson was great as Nick. What a scumbag Nick turns out to be.  I realized tonight that the only reason Nick and Honey go to the house is because Martha has made some promise, either overt or subtle, before the start of the play and he's arrived to see if he can push his luck.  We see the relationship between Honey and Nick is based on illusion and bullshit.  Martha and George have a sexual and psychological connection that Honey and Nick will never have.  He is the worst kind of American villain, he's a phony.  Graham could have spent 2 hours a day for the last 6 months lifting weights and pressing benches which may have added to his presence, but he had the physicality to pull off the role.  There was a lot of threatened violence from Nick towards George and it was believable.

The set by Robyn Greenwell was very good. It didn't dot all the i's and cross all the Ts and left some room for the imagination.  It was also working in tandem to provide another layer of psychological discomfort.  The lighting design by David Fitzgerald was excellent and added to the action without being obvious or intrusive.  There was some nice use of music and sound, designed by Janet Nelson.
The feeling I got from this production was that the four actors, Director Janet Nelson and Assistant Director Amy Wilde, had worked very hard to bring this interpretation to the stage.  What they gave us tonight was an amazing version of an Edward Albee masterpiece.

Beyond that, it brought up issues that made me question my own responses.  The character of Martha hits many of my own psychological and emotional conflicts and unearths nostalgia in the blackest realms of my mind. What devastated me tonight was that for the first time, I saw a Martha that was beautiful and tragic and I wasn't expecting that.

I haven't seen much at the Newcastle Theatre Company recently.   I Love `You! You're Perfect. Now Change ' was magical.  `Educating Rita' and `Trelawney of the Wells' were delightful.  But this is the most moving show I've seen there since they staged `The Crucible'.

They deserve praise and packed houses.

Email to Bill O'Reilly

Dear Bill,

I've always found you to be really entertaining but I think it's time you tried journalism. I understand how hard that is in the fox news universe. Can I make this suggestion and I'll offer the same advice to all your friends at fox. Start doing journalism. You'll all have to do this together starting at the same time. Tell americans about Murdoch. Tell Americans about the Saudi shareholder. When you get the phone call from Rupert tell him to go fuck himself. You must distance yourself from Rupert if you are going to survive because Rupert isn't going to. He's going to die in Jail and you don't want to be his cell mate. The smell will be awful.

All the best XXXXOOOO

Robbie

I sent this to Bill O'reilly and another 10 Fox News goons.

Since the Prang

I just sent off an email and I thought I'd tweek it and make a blog.  It's about time.  Right now, I've got `Murder She Wrote' on the telly.  I love the guest stars and I love Angela Lansbury.  Weird coincidence, I've been collecting photos today of Dale Robertson from `Tales of Wells Fargo' for my drawings and he's a guest on todays show. Weird face, nice legs, huge ass.  There's a villain from `Twin Peaks' on as well, one of the Renault brothers. The blog starts here.

I've been sitting on The Huffington Post waiting for updates.  I'm thinking Murdoch and Rebekah Brooks are holding guns at each others heads and it's a matter of time before one of em pulls the trigger. I'm loving Facebook at the moment.  I'm getting updates from Wikileaks, Huff Post, Get Up, Bob Brown, and tell Donald Trump to shut the fuck up!  It's great.  I don't have to search, they just post stuff to me.  I think Sarah Palin might have deleted me though.
 
I got this the other day -

I looked up an old song on YouTube, Dream Academy's `life in a Northern Town'. I've always loved that song so I went on Wikipedia and found out that it's a nod to a young bloke called Nick Drake. I looked him up, I've never heard any of his music but I recognise him from T-shirts.  I've always loved the song but there's real sadness in the verses.  I thought it was about the JFK and Robert Kennedy but it's sadder than that.  Some of my favorite works of art are songs and I love the way you can hear a song 20 different ways thanks to YouTube.  Nina Simone's `Everyones Gone to the Moon' is incredible but Bette's version is the best, well, my favorite anyway.

I got two theatre subscriptions in Sydney this year.  I'm going down about once a month.  I saw Miranda Otto a couple of weeks ago in a great Russian play about the fall of Kiev to the Bolsheviks.  Andrew Upton's translation of Mikhail Bulgakov's `The White Guard'.  Kiev has such a rich and interesting history.  I'm seeing Judy Davis in Chekhov's `Seagull' this Saturday.  I have to see more local theatre.

Cate Blanchett was breathtaking in `Uncle Vanya' but I want smaller stuff.  My hearing is pretty useless in the Sydney Theatre.  The best thing I saw last year was Thornton Wilder's `Our Town' at the Drama Theatre.  Incredible performance.  I saw a play written in1938 that was about the war in Iraq.  It was about a lot of stuff; life, death, the theatre itself but it was really about the rise of the great god, the automobile and the death of turn of the century America.  I miss Anaheim. I haven't been in a civilised country for more than 10 years but neither have most Americans.  I know how the Palestinians must feel.

I've also seen a new very slick version of Ibsen's `The Wild Duck' at the Belvoir.  A 90 minute, one act, woffack that was beautiful and devastating. Another Russian play at Belvoir,  Jonathon Gavin's translation of `The Business' based on `Vassa Zheleznova' by Maxim Gorky, transferred to Australia in the 80's.  Greed, control and a family full of assholes. Two acts of `Sons and Daughters' from hell but absolutely brilliant. I hate it when you know the people on stage and you're reliving something rather than learning something new.

This week I downloaded a 40 minute fan film called `The Hunt For Gollum'.   It was made for 3,000 pounds.  The makeup on the orcs is a bit dodgy but apart from that, it's incredible.  It's mainly Aragorn looking for Gollum before the start of `The Fellowship of the Ring'.  They call it a prequel.  There's another fan film `Born of Hope' that goes for over an hour. It's about Aragorn's parents.  That one has a budget of  20, 000 pounds.  I found this a couple of days ago. I love that speech.

The car was totalled in the accident but our friends lent us their own. Then, they shouted us, (Loopy and I), both to Townsville and we made cocktails backstage at `Groovin' the Moo'!  I've never met anyone from Liverpool before and when the `Wombats' came to the bar I fell insanely in love with the three of them and their chubby manager.  That accent floored me.

Anyway,  Loopy took his time and found a silver, Holden, `Vectra' in Foster.  He had the luxury of time and found a car I think he loves.  He spent two hours today, making love to it in the form of washing and cleaning. Why you ever need to clean a car is beyond me. You put oil and petrol in them, why would any one want to clean it as well? It has about 20 airbags so I'm told and the seats are heated, ridiculous! But it does everything.  It unlocks the doors, the windows go up and down by themselves. It's like a real grown ups car. Very happy.  I like it very much.

I need to make some new art. No more one-liners about Paul Sironen's butt or my love of Balmain shorts.  No more fuzzy landscapes or still lives.  I need to make something good. "New forms! I need new forms!" (Paraphrasing Chekhov, what a wanker!)  I need to make work to give to people that I don't feel the need to apologize for.

I was watching `Lateline Business' on the ABC.  I reckon Rebekah Brooks has tapes of Murdoch telling her to bug people.  She can put him in jail or even goal. MOOOO-HAAHAA!! I'm lovin it.

`Wilfred'? I saw the second or maybe the 3rd episode tonight.  I didn't think it would translate from the Aussie but the American version is brilliant.  Frodo plays Wilfred's minder.  I never knew what was happening with the Aussie show but in this version it's all happening in the poor guys head.  Ooh to only have one asshole in your head bossing you around, wouldn't that be loverly?

I've been dealing with Centrelink a lot in the last couple of weeks so I'm all over the place right now. The anniversary of Robbie Snr's death is coming up and I haven't heard from my Step-Mum. On top of that I'm sober. Can't stand sober.  So I'm going from resident to `Mayor of crazy town'.

I've watched the `King's Speech' about 4 times in the last two weeks. It is a magnificent film but it makes me really mad. Assholes abound!  Archbishop Cosmo. The older brother.  The asshole father and the constant spectre of Herr Hitler and Stalin.  All pricks that the beautiful Colin Firth, Helena Bonham Carter and Geoffrey Rush have to deal with.  All that waste of WW2 makes me cranky.  A good thing was, I was reminded of `A Room with a View' and `Hamlet' and what an incredibly beautiful woman Helena Bonham Carter is.

According to a British Labour MP, James, Rupert and Rebekah have been summonsed to appear before a committee next week.  Look up the sale of `Shine Network' to Newscorp.  Rupert is so rotten even to his shareholders.  The scumbag will be arrested on his arrival at La Guardia on corruption charges. (Think) Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.

The Prang

Well I'll add some more details later but here's what happened last night.  I had been to Sydney to see `In the Next Room or The Vibrator Play' and came home on the train.  Loopy picked me up and we went home to get the cake for our friend, Wendy's birthday party.  We were almost there, on Gordon Avenue waiting to turn into Dumaresque Street, when we were hit from behind by a taxi!  I didn't experience the accident as Loopy did.  Apparently we hit the roof of the car, were thrown backward, which broke both our seats and we did a full 180 degree spin.  I wasn't aware that we had spun so I was completely disorientated.  North was south and east was west.  My priorities at that point were very strange. I checked Loopy, I felt his head and shoulders.  Then I verbally attacked the poor taxi driver. In between asking him if he was ok I was hurling horrendous insults at the poor man.  Within seconds of the accident we were surrounded by people who were there to help.

After Loopy and the taxi driver, my next priority was the cake!  Thankfully my brownie recipe was completely intact, having just come out of the fridge.  The strangers called the ambulance and cops and were offering help. I couldn't find my glasses.  Loopy found them.  I couldn't stay still whereas Loopy was sitting and regaining his composure. There were people hauling bits of the cars off of the road and three people had brooms sweeping up glass.  A lady was signalling the oncoming traffic with a torch.  The two things that were going through my head were "must get the cake to the party and why is the Dumaresque Street Sign pointing North when it should be pointing east?"  Loopy got Wendy on the phone and I couldn't get my bearings.  I couldn't make sense and I knew it.  It took me 20 minutes to understand the car had spun and I had no idea which way was up.

Then Wendy was there.  Everything was going to be ok.  The cake would be saved.  The ambulance came and checked us out and the cops arrived a short time later. I was completely disorientated and totally freaked.  The taxi driver didn't break at all! No screech!  Just the noise and a huge bang to the head.  The ambulance guys checked us out. The cops got details.  I got the opportunity to apologise to the taxi driver for my hysterical and unacceptable outburst.  And then Stevie, Wendy's partner was there.  Wendy had cleaned out the car and had taken the cake back to the party.

From the moment she arrived she kept saying "you can have the station wagon as long as you need it". The thing is, it was horrible but within seconds we were surrounded by people helping us and within minutes our friends were there.  The ambo's were satisfied we were ok, the cops took statements and the car got towed. We walked with Steve to the party where we were showered with support, hugs and a stiff drink.  Gisela was like a pair of crutches keeping us from collapsing.  She was incredible and after a couple of hours Wendy's wonderful neighbour, Anne gave us a lift home. We both hit our heads but I really hurt the whole left side of my body. I'm very sore.  Loopy has hurt his back, but I think we'll be fine in a couple of days. I think the car is cactus.  The Taxi collected the rear left corner of the car and the chassis is twisted.

As I said it was horrible but we were ok and surrounded by good friends immediately.
It's weird. I feel I have so much to be grateful for.