I Wanna Know What Meme Is

A lot of people have been wanting to know what a meme is, so I thought: What better way to explain memes than through song? Hopefully these lyrics should clear up any questions you might have once and for all:


I WANNA KNOW WHAT MEME IS - by Foreigner

Lets talk about Memes
I wanna know what Meme is, the Memes that you feel inside
I want you to show me, and I’m feeling so much Meme
I wanna feel what Meme is, no, you just cannot hide
I know you can show me, yeah

In my life there’s been heartache and pain
I don’t know if I can face it again
Cant stop now, I’ve traveled so far
To change this lonely life...

Chorus:
I wanna know what Meme is
I want you to show me
I wanna feel what Meme is
I know you can show me

Oh, Bless Those Miserable Rainy Days

Lately I have noticed a new kind of political correctness creeping in regarding the weather. It seems to have become socially unacceptable to complain about rainy days. You must always speak of them with the utmost favor. And if you do happen to mention the rain with a less than enthusiastic tone, it is then necessary to add: ‘oh, but I guess we really need it.’ Not only that, but I have noticed on sunny days people who have remarked ‘what a lovely sunny day it is’ who then immediately feel guilty and quickly add ‘oh yeah, but we really could do with some rain.’

There is nothing wrong with this of course, but I just wonder how far this new brand of political correctness will go: ‘Well our wedding was completely ruined, but on the bright-side we do need the rain.’ ‘Yeah, the storms destroyed our home, our business and everything we hold dear, but just think, all that rain has got to be good for the farmers.’

That Crazy Little Lovable Meme - a poem

I was reading something the other day about blogging and it said that the all the best bloggers these days talk about memes. According to the article, you're not a real blogger unless you talk about memes all the time. Naturally, when I read this I was appalled and disgusted - at myself!! How on earth had I managed to have over thirty posts, and not even once broach the topic of memes? So I decided to rectify the situation, and hopefully restore some semblance of credibility to my reputation as a blogger, by writing a poem about memes (hoping also, in the process, to be counted among that glorified inner-circle of esteemed bloggers with their fingers firmly on the pulse of the Zeitgeist - ooh yeah, that's right baby, all you cultural elites better watch out! Enthusiastic Hack is about to crash your cultural hegemony tea-party!).




That Crazy Little Lovable Meme - a poem (about memes)

There once was a crazy little lovable meme
Who had a crazy little memey dream
She was drowning in a pool of chlorinated steam
Oh, that crazy little lovable meme


There once was an ambitious visionary meme
Who devised a multi-level marketing scheme
And embezzled all the funds and moved overseas
Oh, that crazy little lovable meme

There once was an unstable, volatile meme
Who was interested in extreme right-wing ideologies
He spent eight highly traumatic years in the military
Oh, that crazy little lovable meme


There once was a wealthy patriarchal meme
Who was African-American and named Akeem
But it's not the character played by Eddie Murphy
In Coming to America - that's just coincidental and arbitrary
Oh, that crazy little wealthy, patriarchal, lovable old meme

Quote of the Day

If you set aside Three Mile Island and Chernobyl, the safety record for nuclear energy is really very good.

~ Paul O'Neill, secretary of the Treasury

News Story of the Week

Protestants Make Better Jam than Catholics
From The Telegraph

One of Britain's leading Roman Catholic commentators risks arousing the fury of her co-religionists by suggesting that Protestants make better jam than Catholics. And not just jam, but marmalades and pickles, too.

Mary Kenny, writing in the Catholic Herald, says that, as an ecumenical gesture, she attended choral evensong on Remembrance Sunday in her local C of E church, St Andrew's, Deal. So tasty was the lemon marmalade at the bunfight afterwards that she was reminded of her childhood in Ireland "where it has always been said, even among the least ecumenically minded Catholics, that the Protestant ladies make the best jams, marmalades and pickles, because of their tradition of good housewifery."

A Niffynaffy Nigmenog

Lately I was thinking myself to be an Ames Ace of Grub Street. A right coxcomb I was. All a-mort and spiflicated, I was. But now I spose it was comin by Tom Long, and all agog fer a fiddle faddle. Well, I sure felt a right Rum Duke, I did. N'ertheless, twas but a fiddlestick's end, it twas. All but quirks and quillets it twas. Bet n'ertheless, unlike a Soft Tommy gone down Red Lane, I sure as shimmy aint no addle-plot. Nay, sir, I was a right Rosy Gills, I was. Grinning like a basket of chips, I was.

(I should probably mention that from now on I plan to write this blog entirely in 18th Century Cockney slang. Let me know what you think of the "new direction")

Quote of the Day

'Sure, I look like a white man. But my heart is as black as anyone's here.'


~ George Wallace, governor of Alabama, to a predominantly African-American audience

Quote of the Day

'If the King's English was good enough for Jesus, it's good enough for me!'


~ Ma Ferguson, former governor of Texas

Technology Ruined My Favourite Song

One of my all-time favourite songs is Outdoor Type by the Lemonheads. To my delight it came on the radio today while I was driving, and so I cranked up the volume. I was happily singing along with it until I reached the third verse and in particular these lyrics:


I can’t go away with you on a rock-climbing weekend
What if something’s on TV and it’s never shown again?


Now I’ve probably heard this song a thousand times and this line has never seemed odd to me before. But today I found myself thinking: ‘Hang on a minute. Why don’t you just YouTube it? Don’t you know you can find practically anything online these days? There is absolutely no logical reason why you would need to give up a weekend away just to wait for some show to appear on TV?’

And with that the song was ruined.

Now I know what you’re thinking: ‘Chill out mate, it’s only a song.’

Of course I realise that, and I know they’re just silly lyrics, but think about it. No artist these days would ever put that line in a song. It simply has no cultural relevance whatsoever. Nobody cares about missing their favourite TV show anymore. Why? Because they know they can always go to school the next day and borrow their friend’s downloaded copy of the entire season, including all the episodes that haven’t even aired yet.

See what I mean? The whole context which the songwriter (Evan Dando, no less! Don’t get me wrong, he is a genius) is employing to convey his imagery has now become culturally redundant, therefore eliminating the listener’s ability to relate to it, and thus thoroughly diluting the power of the message he intends to convey.

See. A good song. Completely ruined. I can’t listen to it anymore.

I wonder how many other perfectly good songs have been ruined by technology?

If you can think of any, or have had a similar experience to me when listening to a song (I doubt it – you’re probably normal) then please share it in the comments section.

Cheers


EDIT: It has come to my attention that Evan Dando did not write this song after all. It was written by Tom Morgan of the band Smudge, and was later covered by The Lemonheads. I apologise for the error. But let that be a lesson to us all: We should never believe anything we read. Or hear. Ever! And I mean anything! Especially anything!!!!

Thesaurus

Below is an example of what can happen when somebody (read: me) becomes too dependant on a thesaurus.

You see, I have only just recently discovered the thesaurus on Microsoft Word. I can’t say I have ever really made much use of a thesaurus before, but it’s kind of addictive – I can see how it could become a definite crutch. I am over-using it I know, but I can’t help it.




Now here is the same paragraph, with every word changed to an alternative word using the thesaurus:



Underneath is an exemplar of I beg your pardon? can happen when someone (translate: me) becomes excessively child on a thesaurus.

You distinguish, I encompass solitary presently of late revealed the lexicon scheduled Microsoft Utterance. I cannot declare I encompass eternally actually created a large amount utilize of a vocabulary before, but it’s variety of addictive – I container perceive how it might be converted into an unambiguous support. I am in surplus of using it I discern, nevertheless I cannot aid it.

Currently at this juncture is the same subsection, with every word altered to a different word utilizing the lexicon:

Inspiring Documentaries are Depressing

I find I am able to watch documentaries about Afganistan or Iraq or starving children in Africa without becoming too depressed, but the type of docos that really get me down are those ‘against-all-odds’ success stories. You know the kind of documentaries where some blind guy with no arms or legs decides to climb Mount Everest? I mean, come on, that’s not inspiring. It’s bloody depressing. I mean, here I am with four fully functioning limbs, and I can’t even stick to my once-a-week jogging schedule because I’ve got ‘a little bit of a cold’, or I’m a ‘bit too tired tonight.’ How am I supposed to feel when I watch these programs?

Granted, it wouldn’t be too bad if these stories were the exception to the rule, but it seems like these days just about every freaking amputee or paraplegic is either paddling a kayak to Antarctica or training for the next Paralympics.

I only mention it because last night on Enough Rope, Denton was interviewing yet another one of these ‘defying the odds’ guys (a one-legged man who was, you guessed it, planning to scale Mount Everest), and it just so happened that earlier that very night I had decided not to go for a jog, because of, well, um, see I can’t even remember what my pansy excuse was now, but I tell you what, watching that interview definitely did not inspire me to put my runners back on.

Crisis? What crisis?

With all the talk of impending financial Armageddon at the moment, I am reminded of this book I found a while ago called Surviving the Great Depression of 1990. It was written shortly after the 1987 stock market crash, and explains why the world is headed for an ‘unprecedented economic collapse’, and the ‘worst depression since the 1930s’ (does this sound familiar?) Whilst it is good to read just for a laugh, it also gives me some perspective on the current wave of fear-mongering in the press, and the ‘Capitalism is dead’ talk I am hearing everywhere. Perhaps the world is not about to end after all?

Quote of the Day

'It isn't pollution that's harming the environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it.'

~ Dan Quayle

Quote of the Day

"In every country the Communists have taken over, the first thing they do is outlaw cockfighting"

~John Monks, state representative from Oklahoma, arguing against a bill to outlaw cockfighting in his state

"Excuse me dear, but your balls are showing"

I’ve been having a bit of jeans-trouble. You see, every pair of jeans I buy ends up with these large gaping holes in them. Don’t get me wrong, I like my jeans a bit torn and worn-out looking. However, my last three pairs have all torn in the same, rather awkward place: a place sometimes referred to as the ‘Chad Region.’ You know that region in-between the crotch and backside. Well, the first two of these pairs had been duly turfed, but I was still wearing the third, hoping nobody would notice the hole. However, this morning as I was leaving for work my wife called out to me, ‘you can’t wear those pants. I can see your balls.’ Sure enough, I looked down and was rudely confronted by said testicles, protruding from my jeans in all their hirsute glory. Never mind the bollocks, here I was in a predicament - for I had nothing else to wear (I could say they stood out like dog’s balls, but that might be taking it one cliché too far?) After trawling through my wardrobe in vain for a replacement pair, I decided I had no choice but to wear the dilapidated denim. However, I realised the main culprit was not so much the jeans themselves, but the old-school boxer shorts I am so fond of. So I ditched those boxers for the more ‘figure-hugging’ Rivers brand, and the problem of the unwelcome gonads was solved. Admittedly there is less breathing room in the Rivers boxers (which I hate), but there is also less chance of being arrested for public exposure. So, all in all, it was a worthwhile compromise (I will definitely have to go shopping this weekend, though.)

My parents' foray into the world of high culture

I was having dinner at my parents’ house the other night when my mum proceeds to tell me how ‘cultured’ they are becoming. ‘Oh yes’ she said ‘we went to the opera last week. I even got your dad to come along with me. How cultured is that, hey?’ I must admit I was quite impressed and asked which opera it was. ‘I can’t remember’ she said ‘it was by the New York Opera company or something like that.’ I thought, OK, so she can’t remember the name of the opera, whatever, who cares, that’s no big deal, so I asked her where they went to see it. She said ‘at the Sun Theatre.’ I said ‘do you mean the movie cinema?’ ‘Oh yeah’ she said ‘it was at the movies. They showed it on the big screen. It was filmed in New York.’ I was thinking, hang on a sec, you mean to say you watched a pre-filmed opera at the movie theatre, when just then my dad joins the conversation. ‘It wasn’t bad, I guess’ he said ‘except I thought the main chick was a bit too fat. These guys were supposed to be chasing after her or whatever, but it just didn’t work for me.’ So then I said to mum ‘wow, it looks like you and dad really are becoming cultured, ooh la la. Look out!’ To which she replied, ‘Oh yeah, and if you think the opera is classy, well the week before that we went to see a musical. Do you know the musical Wicked?’

Why does the devil have all the good music?

Would you let your children listen to this band?

From Rock to Rock (Part Two)

Wow! This book really is an endless fountain of wisdom (see previous post to know what I’m talking about – hence ‘part 2.’)Did you know that Bryan Adams’ lyrics glorify the god of fornication, or that Blondie’s music is Nihilistic?

I also learnt that Stevie Nicks is ‘rock’s blond priestess of the occult,’ and Tina Turner is ‘rock’s lustful grandmother’ (OK, so I already knew that.)

The book goes on to label Motley Crue as ‘one of the crudest and most barbaric of any rock group ever’ and consequently dedicates an entire chapter to them. On page 130 I found this harrowing account:

‘When fans were asked just what they would do to meet Motley Crue, the answers ranged from “sacrifice of wives and children” to one fan saying she would “tear out her mother’s heart with her bare hands and eat it raw!”’

[I can just imagine the author conducting a vox-pop outside a Motley Crue concert, and all these kids taking the complete piss out of him]

But whilst this book is providing me with an endless source of hilarity, the funniest thing about it is that in order to compile it, the author had to spend countless hours listening to all these bands and watching their music videos. Wouldn’t he have been morally corrupted in the process, or is he somehow immune to all that satanic influence?

Book Review: From Rock to Rock

I found the most wonderfully educational book this week. It’s called ‘From Rock to Rock: The Music of Darkness Exposed.’ It was written in 1990 by a Christian named Eric Barger, and it provides a detailed analysis of popular rock music, explaining how the Devil uses rock n roll to influence the kiddies.

It explains back-masking, subliminal messages, cross-dressing, and even AC-DCs ‘satanic lightning bolt,’ but the central feature of the book is what it calls the ‘Rock Music Rating System’ in which it outlines 10 criteria for judging whether a band is Satanic. It then lists hundreds of bands from A-Z, and next to their name identifies which of the criteria each artist fulfils.

And if you thought you knew which bands to be wary of, think again! According to the list, The Police (with 9 criteria) are more evil than Ozzy Osbourne (8), Duran Duran (7) are more evil than Megadeth (6), and even Bananarama (6) are more evil than Metallica (5)!!

Other artists on the list include: The Bee Gees (4), Fleetwood Mac (5), Neil Diamond (2), and Rod Stewart (3). In fact, speaking of Rod Stewart, it says ‘If you’re singing along with Rod, how can you be walking with God?’ [man, I wanna put that on a T-shirt]. And if Rod Stewart aint bad enough, the author considers Lionel Ritchie (3) especially evil, and gives this dire warning: ‘Christians should abstain from supporting his artistry with no questions asked.’

And apparently even pretend bands can be evil; Spinal Tap gets 3 gongs.

But there is only one band in the list that fulfills all 10 criteria, and yes, you guessed it, it’s The Rolling Stones. The most EVIL band in the world!

[I have a feeling I will be quoting from this book a lot]

Quote of the Day

Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can't help but cry. I mean, I'd love to be skinny like that, but not with all those flies and death and stuff.

~ Mariah Carey

Quote of the Day

'Just because one believes in White Separatism does not make them a racist.'

~ Joe Turner, founder of Save Our State

My Revolutionary Motivational Method

Whenever a successful person is interviewed, they invariably say the same thing: That early on in their life some teacher or coach told them they were hopelessly untalented and would never achieve anything. Successful people always cite this negative comment as the catalyst for their hungry pursuit of success, and their deep desire to 'prove them wrong.'

On the other hand, my own childhood was filled with plenty of praise and encouragement from my teachers; they often told me how clever and talented I was. It is only now that I realise this is precisely why I have never achieved anything.

Hence my Revolutionary Motivational Method: Strategic Discouragement. By heaping negative comments onto a young protege you will prevent them from becoming a complacent, lily-livered hack, and instead spur them on to accomplish much.

I hope those of you who are planning to be teachers (Basil) might implement this strategy, and watch your pupils go on to achieve great things in life.

Just think, one day some famous actor, when asked what the key to their success is, might say 'well, you know, it's all because of something my drama teacher once told me...'

My hippie brother

I was hanging out with my youngest brother 'Joey Jo-Jo Junior Shabadoo' today. For those who don't know him, Joey Jo-Jo is an unshaven lad with dreadlocks and alternative op-shop-style clothing. We were in Fitzroy, and his bohemian image made the two of us a target for every left-wing activist and protester that happened to venture within 50 metres of us. I was not accustomed to all the attention; however Joey Jo-Jo is quite used to it. At one point we were driving past a 7-Eleven where a group of employees were protesting against 7-Eleven's low wages. Of all the dozens of cars on the road, this girl singled-out ours (because she caught sight of my brother's dreadlocks), and ran over to hand him a flyer. He happily took the flyer and said 'wow, 10 dollars an hour! That's pretty good. I might apply for a job here.'

He told me about a previous incedent: One time he was wearing a fur coat, and these hippies said to him 'I know that's not real, because you don't look like the kind of person who would wear real fur.' He replied, 'I wish it was, but I can't afford it.'

Ivory Tower Alert

Whoever said that Academics were out of touch with the real world? How could they possibly be when they are studying such relevant subjects as this:


Indian audience interpretations of health-related content in The Bold and the Beautiful 1


I did not make this up. I promise. White Aqua (my wife) found this on the postgraduate section of the La Trobe Uni website.

Satire

I have just realised the secret of Satire: Basically, you can make the most controversial, sexist, racist, bigoted comments, and then when people complain about it, you just say 'hey, can't you tell I'm just being ironic?' Then these same people suddenly feel so stupid for 'not getting it' that they pretend to understand the complex satirical subtext of your politically incorrect assertions, and they go around saying how clever and ironic you are, and then they write essays, and publish opinion pieces that explore the intricacies of your 'art', in which they carefully dissect every statement you ever make, and hail you as this wonderfully brilliant culture-jammer. 'The voice for our generation' they say. For example, when I make a statement on this blog such as: "why isn't that woman in the kitchen making my dinner?" you need to assume that my comment is actually really insightful social commentary laced with irony and satire (see, that way I can have my cake and eat it too!) So, I have realised there is a very fine line between being clever and being a complete bogan; and that word is: Satire.

Quote of the Day

I don't know anything about music. In my line you don't have to


~Elvis Presley

Brush With Fame

SHAUN MICALLEF came into the place where I work the other day (The Emporium of Musical Monstrosities), and I was thinking ‘Hey, it’s Shaun Micallef; quick, say something cool and witty to him before he leaves.’ But I couldn’t even summon the courage to make eye contact, and then after 30 seconds he left. I felt like I should have said something, but then what was I supposed to say: “Wow. You’re Shaun Micallef! You’re like my 7th favorite Australian Satirist-slash-Comedian after John Safran and the Chaser team!”

Olympic Closing Ceremony

Following after China's efforts, England's attempt at a closing ceremony looked like a really bad school play. You telling me the best they could come up with was a big red bus, a dozen people dancing around it, a 70-year old has-been rock star, and some never-been pop-idol wannabe banging on for like 10 minutes of mind-numbing boredom. It's a bit of a shame when you think of the rich history England has. Here's some themes I reckon they could have gone with instead: Colonization; Medieval Witch Hunts; Penal Colonies; Street Kids; Rat Problems; That Big Fire in London; Irish Jokes; French Bashing; the list is endless...

Inspirational Quote of the Day

"I think we can agree. The past is over."

~George W. Bush

Crimping

Armored Combat Vehicle (His Alias, not his real name) believes that Boy Kabana (Alias, not his real name) and I invented Crimping - many years before it first appeared in The Mighty Boosh! Whilst I am very flattered that he believes this, unfortunately I don’t think it is a valid claim. Whilst lyrically similar, the melodic structures in our comedic songs are markedly different to the style of Crimping performed by Vince Noir and Howard Moon. Furthermore, all our songs have musical accompaniment, whereas Crimping is usually sung acapella.

For those who don’t know what Crimping is, it is a form of scat singing involving 2 or more people, featuring abstract lyrics about rather common subject matter. For a more thorough definition see urbandictionary.com. However, this website also states that crimping can mean having a wank and a poo at the same time.

Side Project Idea - The Luddites

Latest band name idea for my musical side-project: The Luddites. Our first album will be only available on cassette and 8-track.

However, Jeed (that's his anonymous name, of course, er I mean, his or her anonymous name) informed me that whilst slightly humorous, my Luddite reference is categorically incorrect because the Luddites oppose the use of any technology that is more complex than a lever, and therefore would not condone the use of cassettes or 8-tracks (I asked, what about 78rpm gramaphone records; he said no.)

[Side note: Maybe Jeed is too obvious for an alias as it is merely this person's name backwards? Perhaps I should make it something else?]

Anonymous (3rd) Post

This is my (3rd) Post [just getting these parentheses out of my system (ooh yeah, that feels good) before I start to try to tidy up my grammar {c'mon baby let it out, ooh yeah(come to think of it I probably didn't need to say 'try to tidy up my grammar' just 'tidy up my grammar'- what a shocking waste of words, wouldn't you agree?}]

Anonymous 2nd post

So here I am ##@#!# years old (I had to censor my age because I am trying to be as anonymous as I can - I have too many psychotic stalkers as it is) and I am living in the beautiful country of ##!@@## (oh, man this blog is gonna be difficult - how am I supposed to be completely anonymous- come to think of it, who is gonna read this blog anyway? Probably me, and couple of close friends {who will no doubt get bored of it pretty quick} and maybe some insane lunatic who happens to stumble across it and decides to stalk me and then steal my identity [oh yeah, that's exactly why I am trying to be anonymous] ) PS. Note to self: I gotta stop using so many parentheses.

Starting My Blog

Welcome to my blog (who am I talking to? I have no friends yet {do they call them 'friends' here? Is it like facebook or whatever where you make friends with people and they read your stuff etc? I have no freaking idea.}) Anyway, this is not my first ever attempt at writing a blog. I have tried twice before. First, on my myspace page (that one lasted for 3 entries) and then I started another blog on my facebook page (that lasted 5 entries). Well, here I go again.