Host Sandra Sully actually takes time to explain the multiple choice round, with the three and one set up of the answers. Throwing their arms up in the air, the Big Brother housemates keep each other in check with answers pretty close to right. With the round closing up, Bree Amer whips out glasses from nowhere but it's a tactic not enough to stay in the game. She's out with dopey Saxon Small and smirking Greg Logan on the side.
Chrissie Swan powers through the second round, knocking down Music and Pot Luck for 13 and 6 respectively. Pete Timbs does well in the first half clocking up 8 on TV, fizzling with 4 on Current Affairs. Barely still and over the podium, Jess Hardy gets the little school girl treatment from teacher Sully as she bombs both 4 for Natural World and 5 in Science. Trevor Butler, Timbs and Hardy are out with the three all showing signs of defeat during second half antics.
Squaring off, Tim Brunero lines up Federal Politics of 2000-2005, Swan with 1980s Pop Music and Jemma Gawned on the Chakra System. Sheepish, each of them stick to their tiles, not brave enough to jump around stealing points from across the board. Brunero is shaky and barely knows his politics. Swan knocks down the pop music without a beat as does Gawned, confident neither of the other two are willing to test their knowledge on Chakra.
With no real upset on tile stealing, the three descend upon the silver general knowledge questions. Brunero barely stays in the game, there as a matter of numbers than outright challenge. Swan slips and leaves Gawned to take out the block of glass and title. Throwing the prize money toward Kids Help Line, Gawned offers to split half with Swan's charity.
Monday, 27 February 2006
Down the counter side and flicking past the pedestal, brain pain skips out with no calls. Salvation is in dodging all the voices with a rather quiet day over the line. Standing so close to tempt the phone, the rampant flow of faces across the carpet proves to outweigh the numbers. And amidst the heat, identity reveals happen with a slight off hand remark.
Sunday, 26 February 2006
Antics on the floor showcase some sword wielding action from the Lion mascot against the Tiger from Melbourne. Fireworks indoors are never too crazy smart unless it's all about shooting streams of sparks into the air, and then it's all fine from there. Sydney Kings cheerleaders dance in spotlights and with double their numbers from previous games.
Kings are up and pretty hard into scoring. Cutting into the key, they move quick to score shots. Tigers are wise on this and the margin barely edges out more than a few points between the teams. First quarter always looks good from afar. Second period and Melbourne start swarming the rebounds, Sydney nowhere in sight to clean up the messy shots. Referees work their magic inciting the crowds to boos heavy, loud and constant. Chris Anstey has absolutely no trouble sinking in shots to nail a hurt into the locals.
Third quarter is tough as the Kings stall and hit outside with their shots failing to connect on too many occasions. CJ is nowhere to be seen after the second as Smith and Kendall hit waves on the shots. Tigers don't help matters with their game up and getting better by the minute. Down into the belly of the fourth and it's all over as the Kings struggle to convert breaks by Cedric Webber to close out the competition.
93 to 100, Kings down in game one of the Grand Finals.
Sunday, 26 February 2006
Tickets at the box office appear from nowhere, the slight mishap causing another pain of suspicion and doubt in the existence. Napkins on a stub later and seats down in the front, just behind rows just behind the tables on the floor.
Far more cabaret than expected, the antics of Kiki and Herb leave spots comfortable enough for a doze. Dead wood floats about in the first half, the droning on and on and on making it harder to stay awake, despite the fantastic company of the Dutch close by.
Second half fares far, far better than the first. Singing takes up the stage with an apparent disregard for safety. It's a powerful bellow and upbeat tone. The whole fag-hag thing still a little on the deceptive.
Kiki and Herb are undone by the first half. Great send off with Banging in the Nails to lead out.
Saturday, 25 February 2006
There is a disease of disgust in the recruitment agencies. Shut outs and closed doors all round. Nothing like a stink of skill against their apparent high ideals to make an extremely disparate match. Wallow and read...
No apparent ease, no flow movement of the action. Either in the speech or flying swords. Weaving in and out between the real worlds and the operatic, there is a path that crashes over itself and makes for a hard time even wanting to read on. It's too trying to bother with.
Big all out punchy melee. Fast and free with the delivery. Appears to be lightening up the arc, despite it not having gone anywhere since the start.
Like a mind wipe, there is absolutely no recollection of what happened in this issue. None.
Book within a book, cute, interesting, damningly great. Despite the outlying haze of words sprinkling themselves about the page, it's damn easy to follow.
Reading parts of a whole is a side-effect on keeping finances low and reasonable. Picking up on part four without reading two or three works well despite the otherwise pregnant look of Mary Jane. Everybody looks a little tired, the sag apparent in the faces and body lines. Black Panther speaking in a more urban tone is jarring and certainly show no signs of his inherent nobility. Nobody really seems to speak like themselves.
Sick, sharp humour with an intense splatter screaming guts of attic infesting pests. Firing guns on the dialogue, the snappy wit and low brow nature of certain characters is just undeniably entertaining.
Thursday, 23 February 2006
Swaddling on in their swill, champions of various quiz shows come together to strut their stuff against each other. Sully tries to make these people out to be more than just boring, but they end up failing themselves. There is no life outside the circuit.
Setting up the first round, the fact that their answers are spotty leaves hope for those flipping coins. Comparatively against other squats of contestants, the strike out rate is slightly on par with the worst of them. Darkness comes constantly and they shuffle their feet, though they do keep from looking around like other collections.
Brigid O'Connor (winner of a Temptation showcase), Virginia Noel (holding some record for the most consecutively correct answers) and Maria McCabe (winner of a Sale of the Century showcase) shoot past to burn out from the first round. All women, leaving nothing but the men to battle.
Second round begins hopeful. Cary Young (owner of 5 quiz show cars) leads the pack, shouting out answers as a drone to score a high of 11 on History. The second Who Wants To Be A Millionaire millionaire, Martin Flood dragging the back with 5 from Pot Luck. William Laing (apparently an eternal bridesmaid), Stephen Hall (current Temptation champ) and Rob Fulton (first winner of WWTBAM) each pick up 9 on the first half.
Back from the break and Trevor Sauer wraps up a loss easy as he bombs out on Literature with 2. With the Natural World in the first, it's only 9 for his attempt. The others have it easier. Young, despite the lead, flounders and blanks out on Current Affairs. Down and out. Flood takes Science to own another 5 and a seat on the side.
Laing has Sir John Monash, Hall holds the Star Wars Trilogy and Fulton on American Space Travel as their pet topics in the final round.
Actual oohing blurs from the crowd behind as the safe playing tactics leave the last three tight on at 6 at the check. Neck and neck, the board is pretty much clear as they move about looking for a one up over each other. Hall barely comes through in the end to pip and drip $20000 for the RSPCA and a block of glass.
Monday, 20 February 2006
One man, Stephen Dillane, on a stage full of black sand and the entire cast of Macbeth raging mad through his mind. A little twisty in the performance, a rattling realisation that this was the text butchered in high school. Floating daggers with handles pointing toward a lure and all those horrid memories of switching sililoquies mid-memory.
Keeping track of all the characters is a bit of a task. The transition from one to another largely the folly of the mannerisms and particulars of their type. Voice shifting, shaking in the jacket, swimming in the sand itself, all marvelous ways in which to read the play.
Interesting execution of Shakespeare's work.
Monday, 20 February 2006
Box office at the candy stand, the people in the blue or yellow vests rattle on a bit about the documentary. They don't want to just sell tickets, they look to infuriate those they come across with repetition. And there is a point in the face where they no longer check for ID.
"Guy goes into a talent agent's office, 'I've got the greatest act in the world...'"
Less of more on the joke itself, great deconstruction and analysis. The essence of the old style crass and wit combined with the dark corners of whichever comic happens upon the framework of The Aristocrats. Each telling continues on and on with the basic details, only the style changes and with that, the entire outlook on the play. Filthy, hilarious and fascinating.
Monday, 20 February 2006
First quarter of the semi finals game hands over a few answers to a woman named Phil. Outside, waiting by the box office, it's not usual to wait until the game is well into the quarter before sliding into the seats a few rows lower than the tickets read.
In any event, the first quarter winds down to a warm up. The points are pretty much inconsequetial, Kings leading out over the visiting Taipans. For a semi final game, the off court entertainment is stardard fare, nothing out of the ordinary and nothing much to relay to the people taking down surveys outside and then later on in the stands.
Action steps up in the third, Kings' Mark Worthington doing a lot to throw bring wood into the fire. What looks like a slow peter turns on its head to deliver a brilliant display of ball.
Kings win easy enough over the Taipans with 112-87 and take out the first game in the series of three for the semis. Kings looking in fine form for that fourth Championship.
Friday, 17 February 2006
Contestants squeeze out their introductions as host Sandra Sully makes with the niceties. Gary Sweet manages to trip her up with a longer than needed inflection midway through his reply. The game is even out from the start save for every one stumbling at Susie O'Neill's gold medal for Freestyle from the Sydney 2000 Olympics.
Mark Holden, Axle Whitehead and Ann-Maree Biggar limp out of the first round, their points woefully behind the rest as they stink black the back. They themselves barely register on the stands, washing quietly away into the background of the side couches.
Moving the entire show with a quicker pace, the explanations of the mini games are gone. In their place, a few more commercial breaks and fewer chances at surveying the leader board in the middle of a round. Contestants thankfully ramble on far less than in previous outings, their conversations small for all intentions.
James Matheson and Paul Mecurio die pretty quick in the second round. Matheson's score is so low as to think that he missed out on a part of the section. Bouncing up and around, Andrew G blasts off the highest scores breaking down the TV and Music topics. Julia Zemiro nails on close with her robotic firing line. Gary Sweet barely edges out Kate Kendall to smooth his way into the final three.
Zemiro chooses William Shakespeare Plays for her topic as G has Prince and Sweet takes on Australian Test Cricket of 2005.
No contest for contest as Zemiro and Sweet annihilate the golden Prince squares from the memory board. Zemiro's red Shakespeare and Sweet's blue Cricket blocks lasting better though not without attack.
With the apparent ease of blinking, Zemiro leaps across the other two and collects the trophy to drop the prize money into the pockets of The Salvation Army.
Monday, 13 February 2006
Toasting the right side of the face through the rail bus window, the ride to Como is still early enough for the sun to heat up the neck. Sharp taste of pain as the heat bears down with streams of sweat remarkably staying out of the eyes. Hint of salt and the slightest opening is enough to wish for blood.
Obscene levels of hills and curves dove and weave inside and out of themselves around Como. Orientation according to the map only going so far as one side. The other, a wayward walk talking at least fifteen minutes to correct. An elderly man offering assistance suddenly turns tail to run the other way when the chance to thank comes up.
Carina Bay Reserve. A park with beaten paths and rocks ready to crack snap ankles. Empty save for the man in a black tracksuit with no pants chasing his dog. A lot more yellow on the green than green on the rock and dirt. Footing gets tricky making the climb to the exit and dog do bin.
Oyster Bay Drive is a wandering road with too many cars lining the sides. Walking all over the grass the only safe option, the gutter all gone and blind spots for the ready. Straight on through, the advice from the old man earlier is a little misleading. Shooting straight past the Georges River Soccer Club, all the way to the end of the road to a man raking leaves.
With no other soccer club on the drive, it becomes apparent that twenty minutes passes pretty quick. Cricketers playing in the field and the J in front of the sign making it all seem like another club house entirely.
Back and forth at ten minutes a misdirection, all over the area of Como and Oyster Bay. A journey out from the docks at 14:00 calls in with the food and people at 16:40.
Monday, 13 February 2006
Stewing in the juices of a late morning continues to have the benefit of meeting the delivery man at the door. With fairly certain chances missing out on the knock at other more occupied times, a swift signing and the package enters the home. Other times might see the poor thing left on the porch, easy target for the crack hoons and drunkards along the street.
Another addition joins the dark of shrink-wrapped plastic boxes with no apparent opening in sight.
Saturday, 11 February 2006
Twenty-five down, no desire to know how many more to go.
Wednesday, 8 February 2006
No reason left to leave behind a task that seems daunting, frightening and as pleasant as ripping through pages of comics before the silverfish attack. And if not the silverfish, the hoary hordes of other insects, some of which are near imperceptible to the naked eye.
Wonderfully pulsating art. The story, however, kind of walks out and leaves the milk in the cupboard, unaware of the fact that the milk is liquid and not of the powdered variety. With the limitations of the issue being a one shot, a refreshing hark back to when simple panel transitions involved days as opposed to winks. Empty.
Apart from the heels, Cassandra Peterson is pretty much naked on this cover. One number off when looking for a letter inside. No idea if the letter was published at all in the first place. Remarkably, there is no memory of the main feature story. The back up on Hollywood, yes. The main, nothing.
Thrown for a spin in the orientation twice on reading, a nice collection of rehash from the PVP series. For a sampler of the regular, it really doesn't leave much in the way of connected storylines. Each shot of comedy drops an apparent abandon that has a quite an ear for jelly shots.
Crumpling up aluminium foil doesn't work to easily blind the roaming feral cats. No idea if they chew on the metal sheets either. Well crafted issue to catch up on the series.
Were the excessive use of exclamations on the cover no indication, the rest of the comic is a delirious homage to the silver age Jack Kirby superhero experience. Outstandingly bold, the eyebrows rise up and down trying to figure out if this really works for those without having ever read that kind of material. Looked pretty damn fun in any event.
Another very odd exploration of the psyche.
Wednesday, 8 February 2006
Faults in the circuits turn the eyes away from the dead space and down to the old scrap paper bearing clues and questions in short form. Puzzles on puzzles and all done with at least a handful of missing answers laughing back. Of all the other things to do, teasing the brain is the only recourse for an otherwise unproductive and non-committed stretch.
Wednesday, 8 February 2006
On watching the disgustingly cheap fish and chips crack harder under the wave of the fan, a continuation of momentary pseudo blackouts. Juggling a mouthful of batter, oil and detestable salt in one orifice, the eavesdrop of discussion on yo-yos by the swing door in another.
Brewing on the side with information, the trickle of cholesterol making conversing with customers a struggle. Answering the phone is no challenge. Responding to the caller is.
Sunday, 5 February 2006
The Seventh Doctor looked like an otherwise goofy and spacey regeneration. Out with the final episodes, the reality that perhaps this Doctor is the darkest incarnation of the early evening serials. Underlying machinations of his thoughts and motivations more to his manipulative manner. An otherwise chance meeting with Ace proving to be no coincidence at all. And now, television goes back to wallowing without that hit of science fiction before the stink of night.
Saturday, 4 February 2006
Fortune favours a fickle flex of fortitude in the furtive hours of the day. Chugging back the sweat stains, passing through the same veins. Views out and into the street cross paths with the sleek and bleak.
A white van with a fat man. A fat man by the thin men, no longer with their brethren.
Blinding all with the horrid nature of his beastly gut. A question of known answers in his hand. His hand holds a package, a parcel, a gift from across the waters.
Stylistic eagle faces marking traces on places for one. Short days out from their intended and the agonising wait be splendid and bended with a deep nose suspended.
Friday, 3 February 2006
As the rest ride to buildings in the sky
Others make do to fill in the time
One option: read line after line after line.
Balls on out with a drug hit mind scan.
From here to there in leaps and bounds
Not quite the mouthful of coffee grounds.
Panties and butts amid bodies that drop
Gruffly smooth, like a drunk swigging a beer can.
God damn, it's Batman.
All filler with no killers.
Glossy pages fly right on by.
Lots of maybe, but not enough for this eye.
Pearly whites for a smile on this issue
Harebrained indeed and all the better for it
Funny enough, though not enough for sides to split.
Monkey men continue to pile on out
Running amok and bringing up a climatic scene.
More pulp like this needs to be seen.
Wednesday, 1 February 2006
Elemunk scrambles the loose connections bouncing about the mind of Soon Van.
Feel free to ask questions on any topic. Or spend some quality killswitch time poking about reading the vintage synapses
Or maybe a torrid trail of job interviews?
Elementary Funk by Soon Van is licensed under a Creative Commons License. Feel free to read up on the scope of the copyright over the posts and photos.
Writing gets tiring when you stop