But There's One Thing Really Mystifying...

Wonderfalls. I'd forgotten how great this show was.

Last night when I got home from work, and my wife was still traversing the horror highway home, I lay on the couch with the Wonderdog and watched an episode of this.

Originally I bought this series on the basis of the Andy Partridge involvement. The fine people on Chalkhills (the XTC website) had recommended this since Swindon's finest had written and performed the theme song. I loved it when I first watched it two years ago, but have somehow neglected it since then.

Of course, I've never seen it aired on Australian TV (it may have been on pay TV), and it only lasted the one season in the US, but this is a show that should have been on primetime and run for several seasons.

I've pretty much stopped watching TV, although I don't mind the occasional foray into Gordon Ramsey land. The Nine Network, which has pretty much ruled the airwaves since I was a child and always seemed the most professional of the broadcasters, now wears a tarnished crown. They were even reduced to airing Gordon Ramsey three nights a week - a little too much for even the most dedicated fan. After all, the show is very formulaic and every episode is pretty much the same.

Nine has developed a tendency to buy great shows and then not broadcast them. Even when they do, the shows are usually put on quite late in the evening (way past my bedtime) and then are completely disposable. They edit and chop them to make them fit and then will drop them for a few weeks or postpone the programmed time for a few hours to make way for some sports program that must be shown right now. "Live Poker championships from the Northcote RSL, featuring Shane Warne."

Must see TV, indeed.

And don't even get me started on Underbelly. With all that hype and publicity I really had hoped for a quality show that would be similar to The Sopranos, but have a solid basis in fact. Instead it was poorly written with cardboard, stereotypical characters. The dialogue was laughable at time with cliches I wouldn't expect from my Year 9 writing class and acting that was average at best. And yet the newspapers wrote about Underbelly in glowing terms. I have no idea what the reviewers and critics were watching. It certainly wasn't the same show that I saw.

Watch the weakest of any Sopranos episode and it blows Underbelly out of the water.

So I've started buying DVDs and watching the programs complete, in the correct order and at a reasonable hour. I refused to watch a single episode of The Sopranos final season until it was available on DVD. And I was rather pleased with myself that I was able to avoid any spoilers before viewing it.

I've watched Six Feet Under, West Wing, Buffy, Angel, Firefly and Deadwood the same way. I've started watching Dexter, Sports Night and Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip as well. Old favourites such as Northern Exposure, Twin Peaks, Porridge and Goodnight Sweetheart are also on heavy rotation, while any 'reality' program just gets ignored.

The quality is out there but TV delights in mediocrity. The networks target the lowest common denominator.

Fleeting Fame.

I've been told I was mentioned in Wikipedia.

My students informed me that for a day or so my name was included in the entry for one of the texts we have studied this year.

After the usual information about the book, the author and the narrative, I was mentioned by name and stated that I "said the book is crap."

It's true.

It is.

Thanks to the anonymous student that mentioned me.

And raspberries to the censor who deleted me.

Pulp Culture?

I read that Kylie Minogue received a cultural award from the French government. Hmmmm.

We're always being told how cultured the French are, with their art, cafes, wines and so on but now I find myself questioning this longheld belief. No offence, Kylie, but your music is just pop, and very average pop at that.

I love pop music - I have loads of it in my collection and I'll even admit to having a guilty pleasure or two, but a cultural award for "I Should Be So Lucky"? Full credit to Kylie, though. She's done very well.

In a perfect world Jeff Tweedy of Wilco, or Terry Scott Taylor from Daniel Amos, or Andy Partridge of XTC would be millionaires and revered throughout the world. Kylie would be dance music in clubs while the world would enjoy the art of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Apple Venus and Mr. Buechner's Dream.

Kylie lived the high life all over the world, while Andy, Dave and Colin from XTC were taking part time jobs in order to pay the bills between album releases. From what I understand most of the guys in Daniel Amos have full time jobs. The coolest unknown band in the world? Maybe - especially when you can claim that your guitar player is a rocket scientist at NASA.

Greg: What are you doing this week?Terry: Oh, I'll fiddle with my guitars, write a couple of songs. Produce some demos for a new band I know. You?

Greg: The usual. Pushing satellites around, driving remote vehicles all over Mars and going down to the basement to check out the moonrocks and a couple of aliens we had transferred over from Area 51.

Terry: Ok, see you next week at rehearsal. Oh well, I suppose true artists must suffer for their cause, and I know that quality does not equal popularity.

But in a perfect world Terry and Andy would collaborate to make the world's most perfect album. The Beatles would have performed once more in the late 70s so that I could have seen them at least once. Gene Eugene would resurrect and Adam Again would appear at a festival with XTC, Daniel Amos, The Swirling Eddies, Lost Dogs and The 77s in Melbourne so I could finally see some of these bands.

Philip K. Dick would have written a few more books, and I would be a talented and successful writer living the country life beyond the suburbs.

And Kylie Minogue would drop over sometimes to discuss the genius of Partridge and Taylor.

Linear Notes...

Why should the devil have all the good tunes?

William Booth is supposed to have said it originally. The founder of The Salvation Army would use well known drinking songs and write new words to accompany them to make it easier for his converts to sing along. Larry Norman used it in the 70s as a response to those that thought the church and rock'n'roll should never meet.

This has been in my thoughts this week. I found out a few weeks ago that Larry had passed on a few weeks before. It affected me more than I thought possible. I came home from work and played Only Visiting This Planet, and it moved me to tears.

Larry's death wasn't mentioned in any newspaper or TV report I saw. I didn't even see it mentioned online through any news agencies. I only found out because when I punched his name into eBay, one of the entries included R.I.P. in the description.

Larry was my first concert. I was 15 or so, and he played Festival Hall here in Melbourne. I'd never heard him before, but some older friends invited me. It had never occurred to me that there could be a Christian rocker. The only religious music I knew was quite traditional - the type of vinyl my parents listened to. I'd sit in my room listening to The Beatles, The Stones or Deep Purple in my bedroom on a tinny little mono record player, while my dad would play his music on the 'good' stereo. Not that mum and dad didn't approve. They would even buy albums for me from time to time. But I went to see Larry and became a fan that evening.

In the 90s it seemed Larry went a bit strange. He started talking about brain damage, and saying that every show was his last one. He released lots and lots of stuff - I'm sure there's a Larry album out there somewhere that consists of him making dinner with his son. Having accidentally hit the record button on a cassette player in the kitchen, he suddenly found he had his next album.

I'd spent a bit of time hunting down and buying as many of his earlier releases as I could, so I was disappointed when suddenly there were many many discs on the market, all in limited edition, that I would never be able to collect. I even met him one night in a restaurant in Melbourne. I chatted to him for a few minutes, and asked for his autograph. He told me he wouldn't sign as he didn't believe in 'the Hollywood star system.' I was very disappointed later on when I found out he'd signed items for people all over the place....

But Larry was Larry, and we overlooked these 'eccentricities'. And we thanked him for the Trilogy, and loved SNUTS (Something New Under The Son) and even listened to Quiet Lions.

But now he's gone. I guess he really was only visiting this planet.

I never did find out who Fehrion was or what all those numbers inside SNUTS mean. I loved those little mysteries.

And tonight, when I take my dog for a walk and I'm standing on the corner, I guess I'd better look up the sky in case there's something in the dark......

I May Not Know Literature, But I Know What I Like...

Parent-teacher interviews went well. I wasn't verbally abused this time as I was last year when a parent decided his child was not doing so well because of a 'personality conflict'. How about blaming the child's failure to do any work and a tendency to disrupt others? How about realising that the 'personality clash' was only mentioned after letters went home stating the child was of concern and in danger of failing? How about this parent thinking that he (a professional) would not accept this kind of behaviour and attitude from any of his employees?

But this year went well, and I was even thanked by a number of parents for the work I was doing.

There was one comment made several times that made me think (and ultimately laugh) that night.

"My son only likes reading if it's something he's interested in."

I got to thinking about this one. Parents think I expect kids to like reading books they hate, and there is a presumption that the textbooks will be boring and not engaging. (current educational buzzword here along with 'Pedagogical')

Do I enjoy books I hate? My last entry tells of a particular book I have to teach that should never have been published. But there are other books I teach that I think are either poorly written, dull or just plain pointless. As a teacher, I end up reading these several times prior to teaching them.

Guess what parents, I only enjoy reading books about things I like too.

And would someone tell the VCAA that sometimes we should read books just because they are beautiful and enjoyable to read?

Please, stop selecting texts for Year 12 just because they deal with issues. I'm tired of reading depressing books about suicide, cancer, rape, abuse, single parents or living through war. I see enough of it in the newspapers and on television. This is what happens when the texts are selected by a committee.

Try to include a couple of texts that tell of the joy of living. Try to choose some books that will encourage our students to read more. Select books that we read for the joy of just reading.

As well as being a very average translation, Sky Burial is slow, ponderous, and dull. (Xinran, please admit to us that this book is fiction - don't keep pretending it's a true story.) Look Both Ways has a list of characters who are all victims, where nothing really exciting actually happens. Citizen Kane is long, dull and many years out of date. A Streetcar Named Desire is similarly out of date, neither culturally nor geographically relevant and basically dull. I personally love 1984, but I'm not convinced that the kids are going to like it or get into it at all. As for the poetry - how about something interesting? William Blake, Martin Newell or Benjamin Zephaniah? (or the poetry of Bob Dylan or similar? OK, Paul Kelly came close.)

There are so many wonderful books and films out there that are interesting, relevant and fun to study.

Moondust And Other Debris.

I've read two books this week, one of them brilliant - the other should never have been placed on my desk.

How does a book get published? Surely there are checks and balances in place, some kind of quality control - at least with the bigger companies. I find it hard to comprehend how and why a major and well-respected publisher decided to publish this book. And it was shortlisted for some major award. More than that, this particular book (which shall remain nameless) should not be in bookshops, should not be taught to schoolkids (only because it's rubbish) and should not be put on my desk!

Ok, I admit it. I'm an English teacher with a major in Literature. I've started my honours in the same field and even have dreams of undertaking a PhD one day, so I have some idea of what I'm talking about when I say this crap shouldn't be in schools - nevermind book stores and awards nights.

On the other hand Moondust by Andrew Smith is incredible, although you won't find it in as many bookstores as the rubbish referred to above. While it's not fiction, it is one of the most beautiful, poetic books I've ever read. Mr. Smith has read his Hunter S. Thompson and Tom Wolfe, as the influences of Gonzo journalism can clearly be seen.

Moondust tracks down the last surviving nine astronauts who have stood on the moon and gazed back at the earth. A subtitle could almost be Fear and Loathing in NASA: A savage journey into the heart of the American space dream, as Smith attempts to understand the effect that standing on the moon had on this elite group of flyboys.

Read it. Read it now.

And Mr. Smith, if you're out there, I would love to buy you a drink the next time I visit Norfolk (I spent last Christmas in the UK with a week at Wells-next-the-sea), or if you're ever in Melbourne you are more than welcome to spend an evening or two with my astronomy friends. We sit out in the dark with our telescopes, listen to music, have a drink or two, talk about the Apollo flights and assorted other topics - and study the heavens. Ok, so we might be geeks, but we are geek-chic.

Which brings me back to the question of how books get published.

I've never considered myself to be a great writer (And please forgive me as I write this, I've had two glasses of Merlot and am on my third) but looking back I realise I've had some success.

I've published a number of articles and interviews in fanzines and so on. My very first (and until recently only) short story was picked up by an academic journal. A number of short scripts were published in arts magazines (hi to my partner in script-writing crime) and a stack of my puppet scripts were being considered by a publisher until he closed down after changing careers. (Hmmm, maybe not the best of signs....)

But where and how do I publish a short story? I've decided to start writing again, and would like to get a short story rejected by a magazine or two....

Do magazines even publish unsolicited short stories anymore? Any clues? Any suggestions?

All advice gratefully received...

Not Coming As Soon As I Thought...

October? Was that really when I wrote coming soon?

It's been a long time, and a lot of stuff has happened in the meantime. And although I kept meaning to start this thing, I never got around to it.

But the time is now. Here goes...