The Gap Between The Pauses

Hi Zeitgeisters, I was down at Dingo Fuel South Perth around two this morning. braving the potato pie. Ravi, the console operator, was telling me about his new place in Scarborough, close to the beach etc. As I was leaving, I noticed two cars in the bays, both with vanity plates. The first was " CRSSXXY " which I took to mean “Car is Sexy” as in “This particular vehicle you are looking at, right now, is sexually attractive to you no matter what your gender, sexuality or fetishistic bent”. The second plate was the more lyrical and whimsical “ ARPEGGIO ”. Which sends us straight to the international knowledge dispenser Wikipedia, which says: In music, an arpeggio is a broken chord where the notes are played or sung in succession rather than simultaneously. The word, like many other musical terms, originates from Italian, in which it means "in the manner of the harp." If I had a vanity plate it would simply say: ELEVATE . Elevate the Insignificant Mr Trivia

Zeitgeisters, Apparently our Queen, QE2 – and yes, she’s still our Queen, Australia, until we get the paperwork done; Our Own Dear Queen – and her Significant Other, Prince Phil are celebrating their 60th wedding anniversary today. Listening to News Radio today I was annoyed, but not surprised at the vaguely fawning tone of the reporting. The reporting of such matters in Australia was much more nauseatingly royalist years ago, so some things have improved. Today we enjoyed audio of the 1948 ceremony. An expert explained how the whole thing was a bit of glamour during a period of post-war austerity; we heard how Australian Girl Guides provided the ingredients for the four tier wedding cake; there was a short interview with the Queen’s own seamstress of the time, how it felt to have her work so prominently displayed on that day sixty years ago; all interesting at a low level. Then the story went a bit too softheaded as it detailed how enduring was the relationship between The Queen and ...

Hey Zeitgeisters, Yep, well I’ve been away. Touring. Me and Porter (my ventriloquist dummy) were doing some shows in the Northern suburbs of Perth. Warwick. Greenwood. Balcatta. We cooked, man. We did this bit about how Kevin Rudd and John Howard were basically the same guy. It totally killed. Every night. Okay. Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t go anywhere. I’ve been Facebooking. I was actually a little bit addicted for awhile, but now I’ve got it under control. I think. At first I thought I might have to spend a lengthy period in a Californian rehab facility to pull through, but apparently a couple of weeks is all you need to fix you up. (Yep, its a barely-there Ben Cousins gag.) So I’ve been wasting time on Facebook when there was important blogging to be done for the war effort. I might spiel in more detail about this insidious data mining tool for the CIA (see my friend Rex’s spiel on the Monopoly Men site) but for now I’d like to share a prize piece of BS I turned up, whilst cruising t...