The Setting: 1966- A Cambridge flat, drab with minimal furnishings. Piles of books are stacked against the wall and old newspapers cover a small table in the middle of the kitchen/dining area.
Germaine Greer is busily cleaning the kitchen while Robert Hughes sits at the paper-strewn table drinking a bottle of beer. The door opens and in staggers Clive James, drunk.
Clive: Whooo! Clive is on the piss again. (Sings) Clive is on the piss again!
Hughes: What's happening mate? Where you been?
Clive: Just down at the rub-a-dub with Barry Humphries. Spew. (giggles to himself)
Greer: (Not looking up from her cleaning) What were you doing with that dickhead?
Clive: Reckons he's hit on a new idea. Spends three months in London, and now he's gonna start wearing a dress and acting like a housewife. Sounds like poofter activity, if you ask me.
Hughes: A dress? Bloody hell. What else did he say?
Clive: Not much, we just shot the shit, chatted up the waitresses. Nice birds.
Hughes: Any love?
Clive: Nah, I was doing alright with one, but... you won't believe this... I farted just as she dropped off our second bottle of Beaujolais. Man, it stank. After that it was all over. I think she spewed.
Hughes: That's awesome. I dropped a ripper today at the Tate, right in the middle of the Degas exhibition. The women next to me looked like they were crying.
Clive: Did they spew? I would have spewed. Your farts are rank. A good fart should always get some spew going.
Greer: Sorry to interrupt you Rhodes scholars, but what are we going to do about the energy bill this month? Clive, you still owe us for last month.
Clive: Shit. I just pissed it all away.
Greer: Clive! Didn't Bazza owe you money? What happened to that?
Clive: I... um... I lost it on a dog. You got any more of those beers, Hughsey? I'm gonna spew if I get any more soberererer (giggles).
Greer: Hold on, a dog? Bloody hell Clive. You're useless. What are we gonna do? It's going to be winter in a month, and I don't have any bras to spare for fuel.
Hughes: (coming back from the fridge with a beer for Clive. Strikes a Shakespearean pose). Now is the winter of our discontent...
Greer: Don't start Robert, this is serious.
Clive: (holding the beer bottle up to his eye like a telescope) Bloody oath it is, I can't get this beer open.
Hughes: They're not twisties mate, where's my key ring?
Clive: It's alright, mate (starts opening the bottle with his teeth). It'll be okay Germaine Sausage. I'll tell you what I'll do... (lifts his leg and farts, followed by raucous laughter from him and Hughes).
Hughes: That's disgusting you sicko. Oh man, the place is gonna stink for a week!
Greer: Oh well, it's still better than...
Together: Living in Australia!
Stone cold Circumstances
Monday, July 9, 2007
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Tackling the issues one cup at a time...
Ideological arguments don't often break out between domestic appliances, but when they do, they're big. Really big. This one had already spread from the granite bench top into the top shelves of the kitchen cabinets, sending cockroaches scuttling from behind the toaster towards quieter regions of the open plan living/dining room with galley-style kitchen. It was essentially a domestic dispute between different generations of coffee delivery mechanisms. It began when the Delonghi coffee machine made an offhand comment about the privatisation of public utilities, but by now it had pretty much degenerated into a slanging match between the left and the right. The Delonghi was leading the right's case, arguing for the inevitability of privatisation as a result of the inescapable need for competition to ensure quality service and an open market. He was shiny and new, and had grown up in an environment where houses were always worth more than they were yesterday, and where six credit agencies would send someone to your house if word got out you were thinking of financing a couch. He had received unexpected support from the Percolator, who many expected to side with the Espresso Jug and the Instant- a decision based mostly on the assumption that because the Percolator wore plastic casings from the '70s, her values would reflect that era. She tempered the Delonghi's more hard-line stance, saying that governments should look at privatisation as a means of ensuring progressive and innovative service, but that any public/private contracts should include provisions to guarantee agreed standards of service to non-profitable areas. At this point the Grinder and Roaster had started chiming in with support, because they supported deregulation, but were put off by Delonghi's aggressive capitalism and views on gay marriage.
It annoyed Espresso Jug that Grinder and Roaster had jumped in behind Delonghi. Espresso Jug didn't mind so much about Percolator, because he felt she meant well, but was misguided as a result of her privileged upbringing and impressive range of accessories. What annoyed him was that Grinder blindly followed Roaster, despite Espresso Jug's hunch that deep down Grinder was more liberal than Liberal. Delonghi particularly irked Espresso Jug, not least because Delonghi's multi-purpose interface had made stove top coffee brewing a thing of the past. Espresso had spent a lot of years in the cupboard since Delonghi arrived, and resented the economic forces that had made a $3200 coffee machine seem like a necessity, instead of the appallingly gross luxury he felt it was. As such, Espresso had taken up a kind of intellectual liberalism as a defence mechanism against the long, cold, coffee-less nights in the cupboard. He and Instant were united behind the idea that most services should be public to ensure equity of access for all. Instant was the driving force behind the left's case. Instant was essentially a Marxist, and saw himself at the bottom of the class system that existed within the kitchen. Despite his hard-left ideology, Instant secretly supported tightening immigration policy, as he resented the influx of European immigrants that had popularised 'real' coffee. He was aware of this inconsistency in his political philosophy, and overcompensated for it by rabidly attacking Delonghi and Percolator as often as he could. He was enjoying this argument, because the subject matter was black and white. "People should control all infrastructure and assets," he shouted at Delonghi, "to prevent the exploitation and manipulation of the lower classes by owners bent on monopoly and profits."
The Toaster had had enough. He was a simple two-slices-at-a-time appliance, and had no strong opinion on politics, religion or sex- particularly not at 3am.
"Will you idiots give it a rest? Save it for the bloody letters page!"
The kitchen fell silent, with each appliance taking their opinion to bed with them. Ideological arguments don't often break out between domestic appliances, but when they do, the Toaster always gets the final word.
It annoyed Espresso Jug that Grinder and Roaster had jumped in behind Delonghi. Espresso Jug didn't mind so much about Percolator, because he felt she meant well, but was misguided as a result of her privileged upbringing and impressive range of accessories. What annoyed him was that Grinder blindly followed Roaster, despite Espresso Jug's hunch that deep down Grinder was more liberal than Liberal. Delonghi particularly irked Espresso Jug, not least because Delonghi's multi-purpose interface had made stove top coffee brewing a thing of the past. Espresso had spent a lot of years in the cupboard since Delonghi arrived, and resented the economic forces that had made a $3200 coffee machine seem like a necessity, instead of the appallingly gross luxury he felt it was. As such, Espresso had taken up a kind of intellectual liberalism as a defence mechanism against the long, cold, coffee-less nights in the cupboard. He and Instant were united behind the idea that most services should be public to ensure equity of access for all. Instant was the driving force behind the left's case. Instant was essentially a Marxist, and saw himself at the bottom of the class system that existed within the kitchen. Despite his hard-left ideology, Instant secretly supported tightening immigration policy, as he resented the influx of European immigrants that had popularised 'real' coffee. He was aware of this inconsistency in his political philosophy, and overcompensated for it by rabidly attacking Delonghi and Percolator as often as he could. He was enjoying this argument, because the subject matter was black and white. "People should control all infrastructure and assets," he shouted at Delonghi, "to prevent the exploitation and manipulation of the lower classes by owners bent on monopoly and profits."
The Toaster had had enough. He was a simple two-slices-at-a-time appliance, and had no strong opinion on politics, religion or sex- particularly not at 3am.
"Will you idiots give it a rest? Save it for the bloody letters page!"
The kitchen fell silent, with each appliance taking their opinion to bed with them. Ideological arguments don't often break out between domestic appliances, but when they do, the Toaster always gets the final word.
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