Reality...what a concept

Now I’m not a fan of reality tv, finding it puerile, pointless and seemingly just there to create instant celebrity and make up for the lack of any decent drama or original thought on the idiot box these days… but then I’m hooked on The Contender and RockStar Supernova so where does that leave me? Of course reality has very little to do with rock and roll anyway or for that matter boxing when you consider the likes of don king and sly stallone so maybe I’m really hooked on un-reality shows. Whatever they are doesn’t matter… the new season of The Contender has really raised the bar. From the first week when Michael Clark, a pre-show favourite, was eliminated this show has promised surprises. And each week it delivers.
What I’ve always liked about the concept was the fact that you got to see the boxers as real people, with families and ambitions and problems. You got to see, even though it’s the idiot box version, their lives. This was no better illustrated than this past week’s episode where Michael Stewart and Ebo Elder squared off. You see, both families had hit it off and the kids and the wives were now friends (as were in fact the husbands) but then Michael and Ebo had to “go to work” which meant beat each other up. It was a moment you couldn’t create when the fighters told their wives who they were fighting… you could see the looks on their wives faces as they contemplated what was about to happen. It made them all more human I guess (despite Ebo’s religious waffle I still like the guy)… and the bout itself was intense. Stewart showed that you’re always in with a puncher’s chance and after getting picked off for three rounds by Elder, came up with the punch to finish the fight and continue on in the show. Unlike some of the previous bouts where there had been words, had been tension between the fighters – these two were prepared it seems to be happy either way win or lose… Only Ebo’s daughter seemed distraught, the rest were very accepting although Stewart himself was visibly upset upon hearing how Elder’s daughter had reacted. It made for an intense episode and some great television. And it made the fighters look all the more human and that can’t be bad for the sport at all.

i got them bleeding credit card blues

Purchases whilst in the great city of Melburg.
Lisa Crystal Carver – Drugs Are Nice (Lisa Suckdog’s Biography! Outstanding book about being a fuck up DIY kid in the 80’s with no sense of self worth or purpose and trying to find your own identity. I couldn’t put this book down. For a girl who was initially known for being sloppy and talentless Carver can write. Highly recommended. I got mine at Collected Works)

John Fahey – How Bluegrass Music Destroyed My Life. (OK haven’t read this ‘un yet but Fahey was a crazed genius and his other book Vampire Vultures was surreal and twisted and highly entertaining. I expect no less this time around.)

Russell Sullivan – Rocky Marciano – The Rock Of His Time. (There’s a great shop called Melbourne Sports Books down the other end of Flinders Street and I always find something there. Extensive section on Boxing and this time I picked up the new edition of Marciano’s biography. Marciano is the only heavyweight champion to finish his career undefeated 49-0 and was my first boxing hero. I still rate him as the best heavyweight ever. Love this shop.)

Skatenigs – Stupid People Shouldn’t Breed (found this cd second hand for $16. have been looking for it for awhile after picking up the Mangled Web cd earlier this year. I love the Skatenigs despite their links to Ministry. You always got the feeling with these guys that if they wanted to, they could kick yr arse where as Ministry used to be a dance band before they discovered smack. Evil little goth kids think Ministry is the bang but they only ever had one song and who can trust goth kids anyway? Skatenigs were the kind of guys who would play your party, drink yr piss, steal yr girls and you would stand in awe.)

Peril – Self Titled (got this cd for $5! Tony Buck…Otomo Yoshihide… thank fuck Melburgians have no taste)

Ronald Shannon Jackson – Red Warrior (Again $5! Bargain mate bargain.)

Unbelievably Bad – Issue #3 (Had to buy this zine once I found out they had an article on Angus McDeth – I thought I was the only one who cared about Angus! Plus they mention the village people’s ‘food figh’t as an undiscovered punk gem. These boys are on the ball. Oh yeah, you get a cd too – haven’t played it yet but one day after a couple of brews I will.)

Sun City Girls – Folk Songs of The Rich & Evil / Exotica on $5 a Day (latest vinyl reissue of early SCG on Eclipse. I’m addicted to this stuff. They lived in a world of their own, possibly even more quirky than today’s releases. Plus I’m old enough to remember the joys of vinyl. I love that feeling of gatefold sleeves and big black shiny rekkids.)

Rapeman – Two Nuns & A Pack Mule. (Didn’t even realise this was still around. Vinyl copy – post bigblack/ Albini still kicking arse. Can’t go past their version of ZZTop’s ‘Just Got Paid’. Now just gotta find Budd)

Suburbia (Finally on DVD. Penelope Spheeris’ classic flick about the punk kids and shithead youth roaming the streets of the 80s. Great live footage of TSOL, Vandals and DI plus a rip roaring doofus story of rejected streetkids and punk rock wannabes. I love this flick – a funhouse staple.)

So, my credit card lies gently bleeding in a corner and I’m cultured up for awhile. Now I just gotta do some writing and pay some bills. And then go back and spend some more!

Overloaded at Overload

Well, the Paroxysm crew (including yours truly) hit Melbourne once again for our yearly sabbatical to the Overload Poetry Festival and once again we kicked some arse. I just don’t remember too much of it. Saturday night we read with the travelling troupe The Belfast Poets- who were fucking good on stage and off. Sunday we launched the latest Paroxysm anthology “SHOTGUN” (to be launched here in lil ol’ Adelaide in October) at the Arthouse and by all accounts it went down well. I did a stirling job (as much as I can remember anyway) and then proceeded to finish getting plastered (I was drunk before I got there) before being bundled in a taxi and sent back to my digs. Woke up next day with a very sore arm (apparently I took a fall) and absolutely no money left in my pockets. Another successful night out. I had some real work to do as well though so I didn’t see fuck all else but hell, I don’t like poetry anyway… I will however say congrats to Kelly Lee who kicked arse at the poetry slam on Sat nite – if she was a bloke she’d have balls bigger than mine- in fact I’m not sure that she doesn’t anyway! Now I’m back home trying to finish another manuscript to send out into the great unknown. If I can get it tidied up I’ll have three books floating around the ether at once. Almost justifies me calling myself a writer.