Another Tired Sad Old Analogy

Holly came from Miami, F.L.A.
Hitch-hiked her way across the USA
Plucked her eyebrows on the way
Shaved her legs and then he was a she
She says, Hey babe
Take a walk on the wild side
She said, Hey honey
Take a walk on the wild side

Candy came from out on the Island
In the backroom she was everybody's darlin'
But she never lost her head
Even when she was giving head
She says, Hey babe
Take a walk on the wild side
Said, Hey babe
Take a walk on the wild side
And the colored girls go
doo do doo do doo do do doo

Little Joe never once gave it away
Everybody had to pay and pay
A hustle here and a hustle there
New York City's the place where they said, Hey babe
Take a walk on the wild side
I said, Hey Joe
Take a walk on the wild side

Sugar Plum Fairy came and hit the streets
Lookin' for soul food and a place to eat
Went to the Apollo
You should've seen 'em go go go
They said, Hey sugar
Take a walk on the wild side
I Said, Hey babe
Take a walk on the wild side
All right, huh

Jackie is just speeding away
Thought she was James Dean for a day
Then I guess she had to crash
Valium would have helped that bash
Said, Hey babe,
Take a walk on the wild side
I said, Hey honey,
Take a walk on the wild side
And the colored girls say,
doo do doo do doo do do doo

Walk On The Wild Side, Lou Reed.




Well Colin was dying, there wasn't too much doubt about it this time. He had been dying for a decade but this was the last dive. He is confused and doesn't seem to know where he's living anymore. He wreaked. He swanned. Luvvy, luvvy, you get your cute arse back here. You tell me what should be happening. You smile in my face and for God's sake get the drugs. In Hargrave Street Paddington in the late 1970s and early 1980s. She shrieked, she absolutely shrieked. Not well darling, I'm not well. So loud even the accustomed neighbours, on their ways to work in their straight worlds, their straight jobs, their neat houses, their worthy roles. They didn't envy them for one minute, not one little bit. He could smell the stale sweat. He had been out for coffee and was coming back to a house full of bodies asleep in his lounge room. Colin was with him. He was an early riser just like him. Not well darling, not well, he said again, cackling in the daw2n at his own joke. Not well luvvy, not well. And they both laughed for no particular reason; the joy of it, the urbanity, the beautiful colouring of the white terraces against the deep blue of the Australian sky.

Back then, oh so way back then, Colin had justifiably got off his trolley the previous evening; the recent death of his first boyfriend, Phil, being excuse enough. Living next door to the hotel was one of those fateful, delightful flaws of fate. What else were they going to do? Trot off to work like everyone else? He tried to smile politely as the neighbour's door opened and she emerged, obviously dressed for work. He smiled a cheery good morning and she nodded back sternly, aghast not just at the raucous sounds that had been emerging from his lounge room for most of the night, but aghast at the sight of Colin, who even way back then was a sight to behold, tall, thin, clearly wasted; he always had that look of a drag queen out of a dress; although that was not the case. Hello Luvvie, he said in his campest drawl. It's a lovely morning. Even now, at this hour, you could see the shimmer of chemically induced thoughts dragging through his psyche. She nodded tightly and they entered their own door, dividing the world into another place.

They picked their way over sleeping bodies, including Russell Keithal, the ever so handsome boy they all wanted to sleep with, men, women and any other possible category. To be able to boast you had slept with Russell was more than just another notch on a belt; he was the dream of desire, the pinnacle of the age, their tribe's lust object. Oh to be blessed. Colin was blessed, he always was. In an age before being gay became compulsory if you lived in inner Sydney, he was a pioneer slut. The married couple syndrome he had exhibited with Phil, when they were barely old enough to have left school, was short lived and he spread his favours willingly. There was no shortage of takers. Take a Walk On The Wild Side was one of the songs of the monmet. Jackie was just speeding away, thought she was James Dean for a day. Diamond Dogs. David Bowie's admission, or was it promotion, of bisexuality transfixed us all. We wanted to be at one. Colin was more than happy to help the straight boys explore their sexuality. It was all part of everything. Jackie was just speeding away... thought she was James Dean for a day... This was the anthem of the age.

Decades later tired thoughts swirled through a tired brain. The vast empty warehouse that had been his psyche was changing. He was becoming the person he had always wanted to be. Maybe. He didn't sit on the back step quietly smoking, talking to no one, achingly lonely. You're very good value, 9.75 out of 10, a neighbour said at a barbeque. Handosme boys, georgeous girls sat in chairs or perched on low brick walls. They were so charming. Their flesh glistened with you. They were so together, so accomplished, so comfortable in their own skins. Back in the day, his day, they were off their trolleys and any comfortable scene like this would have been disturbed by someone stumbling into a corner and passing out, the sound of someone else retching in the backyard. You're the most handsome 60-year-old in this street, Bridgette said. Not much competition, he replied. Oh I don't know, she said, and they both laughed for no accountable reason.

If only Colin had been here. He would have loved it; the boy with his handsome face and long legs; shown off by shorts. He would have been whispering fervently in the kitchen, plotting his way to the prize. Everyone who had been to see Nick Cave the previous day was sunburnt. How could you go wrong? The Saints, The Laughing Clowns, Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds. Oh my God they put on the best performance. Nick, the star turn, took the best position, the sun setting across the harbour as he took the stage on Cockatoo Island. Old rockers knew every twist of every old punk song. Men in their 50s and 60s danced with young things in their 20s and 30s. It was one of the best days of my life, he loudly declared all the following day. And indeed it was hard to beat. If only Colin could have been there. The tickets had been $150 each; and of course that would have been a drama for the old dear. But we would have all loved to be there; the beat, the heat, the drama. And Nick Cave, hey tripooolooo, our genius. Our beloved.

Instead Colin was lying in a hospital bed in John Hunter hospital, he didn't seem to know where he was or what was happening any more. Short term memory loss, they said. And loss it was, all loss. We had lived this long and we were relics from a bygone age. We thought we were going to change everything. Instead we grew old. Pioneer slut turned into a sad old man dying of AIDS in hospital, his brain rotting.
We had been so close. We had thought everything was ours. But now the dark ages had come; his own dark ages. And the crimes against humanity that were the conservatives; they had won.

Bye luvvie, that was what he wanted to say. He was going to check with the hospital staff to see if Colin had survived the night, before driving up there, the long highway, two hours at least. Bye luvvie, and the tears sparked down his face. NOt well, she shrieked, a far away echo. We made so many mistakes. At least no one can say we didn't give it a good nudge, he said on the phone yesterday. The stale smell of death he could feel from here. They gave their private life. Oh yes, they'd given it a good nudge alright. And now, in these final days, in these final hours, their glimmers of memory, the party boys, the true blue spectacular enemies who outraged everybody, who painted every railing on the old terrace a different colour, who spent their wasted days being fabulous in the dark bar; all of this was gone now. We didn't change the world. We grew old and we died. Goodbye Luvvie, it was a pleasure to have met you. Already, more than half of them are gone.




http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/obama_inauguration/7836315.stm

US President-elect Barack Obama has told a crowd of hundreds of thousands of supporters in Washington that "anything is possible in America".

As the US fights two wars and tackles an economic crisis, Mr Obama said he was "hopeful as ever that the United States of America will prevail".

He was speaking at a welcome concert on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, ahead of his inauguration on Tuesday.

Some of the biggest names in music took part, among them Beyonce and U2.

Mr Obama said that meeting the challenges faced by the US would not be easy and would take more than a month or a year.

But he said that "the dream of our founders will live on in our time".

There were also readings highlighting American values and history.

The concert was one in a series of special events in the lead-up to Mr Obama's swearing-in as the 44th US president.

Earlier Mr Obama placed a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknowns at the Arlington National Cemetery in Virginia to remember fallen American servicemen.

The BBC's Richard Lister in Washington says it was a reminder to his supporters that while there is room for celebration over the next few days, this is also a sombre time for America, as it fights two wars and grapples with an economic crisis.

Security operation

An unprecedented security operation is under way in the capital ahead of Mr Obama's swearing-in on Tuesday, with the authorities expecting a turnout of up to two million.

Some 240,000 tickets have been issued for the festivities at the Capitol.

http://www.climatechangefraud.com/content/view/3116/236/

Believe it or not, global warming is being cited as one of the reasons a US Airways flight landed in New York's Hudson River on Friday.

Media were considering blaming the incident on the Bush administration until it became apparent that as a result of pilot Chesley B. "Sully" Sullenberger's heroic efforts, as well as those of his flight crew, there were no fatalities.

With nothing bad to pin on the current President, the good folks at Time magazine found another predictable culprit (h/t Tom Nelson):

Wildlife mitigation is the official term for avoiding accidents like these, and according to the government's latest report on the topic, it's becoming an increasing concern. The report, which was released in June by the Federal Aviation Administration and the U.S. Department of Agriculture, Department of Transportation and Fish and Wildlife Service, found that since 1990, the number of bird strikes has quadrupled, from 1,759 in 1990 to a record 7,666 in 2007. Officials cite a number of possible causes for the increase:

• Most commercial airlines are now replacing older three- and four-engine planes with more-efficient double-engine aircraft. Because these newer engines are quieter, birds are less likely to detect and avoid them. Worse still, fewer engines mean fewer backups should a plane and a flock of birds cross paths.
• While officials use radar and radio collars to track bird populations, habitat destruction and climate change have disrupted migratory patterns.

Al Gore should be very proud of himself.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7836620.stm

With Gaza still smouldering, foreign leaders descended on the region, thinking about the future.

Gordon Brown's plane made a lazy figure of eight over the Red Sea as prime ministers and presidents vied for the right to land first at Sharm el-Sheikh.

As we banked steeply for our final approach, a container ship ploughed a solitary path north into the Gulf of Suez.

Britain and others have offered to keep an eye on this stretch of water to prevent shipments of arms being offloaded on the coast of Sinai and smuggled across the peninsula into Gaza.

Sharm, a Mecca for divers and winter sun worshippers, has seen more than its fair share of international gatherings, including the famous 1996 Summit of the Peacemakers, which followed a spate of suicide attacks in Israel and sought, in familiar language, "to enhance the peace process, to promote security and to combat terror".

Hopes voiced

Speeding to the Jolie Ville Golf Resort, scene of numerous similar events, our convoy swept past a frieze depicting participants at that event, including some, like former Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat and King Hussein of Jordan, who haven't lived to witness the latest convulsion.

Combating terror and promoting security were clearly top of the agenda, with European powers queuing up to offer technical and training assistance to stem the smuggling of arms into Gaza.



Phone camera is broken: my apologies for the decline in picture quality.