Friday, July 30, 2004

knees reprise

I've now watched that Let's K-nock K-nees sequence a dozen times in the spirit of Nick's prescription to fight flu (and the blues) with funny movies and rolling the eyes. Yes it's a tonic.

To recap: This is a very fine description:
The arrival in Brighton sets the stage for a unique song and dance number in the Astaire/Rogers series, one that involves neither of the principals. Instead, we get one of cinema’s true odd couples, 47-year-old Edward Everett Horton and 17-year-old Betty Grable, in "Let’s Knock Knees." Horton appears in a bathing suit, pushing the envelope about as far as anyone would want it to be pushed (fortunately, he’s wearing a tank top). Grable, on the other hand, is a glistening dream, the gal who put the phat in platinum.

I searched the web for the lyrics to no avail - always surprised when things aren't there... so I transcribed some

You’re my type of a shy type of a beau dear
Beg Pardon
So let’s do things,
I’ll teach you a few things…

It makes one feel so thrillable
Well you’ve exhausted every syllable
I crave frivolity
Let’s knock knees.

They say make hay while the sun shines
so let's oh let's make hay hey hey while the moon shines

and then I wrote these lines on the appeal of it:

It’s Betty bobbing her head to concentrate
on the complicated swing
tip-toeing with a ukulele
as you do
around a pillar
in a foyer
in full bodied pyjama
stalking any old prey
her unsinkable vamp
and spark in the face of
the camp man in socks and sandals
who tolerates tickles
and big declarations of love
and agility
sung in a difficult key
with studied kid assurance
clutching ukulele

and then the chorus of odd choreography
all patellar reflex and kneeing in groin
flirtation of bathing suits and cravat dudes
dancing dud sex

before Fred turns up and betty disappears
no big deal

have ukulele will travel

I crave frivolity
Let’s knock knees.

Comments: knees reprise

I doubt this site has been a wallflower at the boynton dance, but jus in case...

"Of all the people well-informed on topics new and strange, Commend me to the knowing girl at the telephone exchange..."
Posted by nardo at August 4, 2004 11:44 AM

That's a great site. I may have crashed the dance a coupla times via google image search, but have now had a proper Browse - which is a slow tempo stroll at dialup. Only done half the alphabet of 1910-20 - but lovely stuff on show there.

Couldn't find the elusive k-nock k-nees number, closest I got was a reference to a betty here:;nh=1?DwebQuery=a2121#X

Title: Eyes have a language of their own; Betty
First Line: Eyes have a language of their own
Refrain: Eyes have a language of their own
Posted by boynton at August 4, 2004 01:53 PM

Thursday, July 29, 2004


beautiful 53 at sublimate

a monochrome melbourne window Anchor cotton and needlecraft products

Atomic Needle (via exclamation mark)

deja choo

And even if it were as common as sneezing, déjà vu would still be difficult to study because it produces no measurable external behaviours

The Tease of Memory (via kevan

Mr. Brown would also like to work with people with epilepsy, and with people who have the rare condition of suffering déjà vu pretty much every day. "I'm in contact with someone by e-mail who has almost constant déjà vu," he says. "Someone like that would be very fruitful to work with in the lab."

Achoo syndrome
(also known as Autosomal Dominant Compelling Helioopthalmic Outburst Syndrome)

Naturally another scientist proposed another truly awful acronym, SNATIATION, which is a combination of "sneeze" and "satiation" and an acronym for "Sneezing Noncontrollably at a Time of Indulgence of the Appetite -- a Trait Inherited and Ordained to Be Named
Strange Sneezing situations

Wednesday, July 28, 2004

pet strollers

Pet Strollers (via the Presurfer)

I like the SUV version
You can push your pet along on rugged wheels and share the sights, sounds and fresh air of any outing. Pet Stroller SUV™ also doubles as a carrier for trips to the vet. It's ideal for transporting older animals with hip and joint ailments. Especially comforting for senior pet owners who wish to also enjoy the great outdoors with their pets too.

Though I wonder if these canine 4WDs would have the track record of the average Toorak Tractor and stay pretty well on-road. Like the school drop, I suspect the vet run might be the main mileage clocked up.

Pet Stroller SUV is a cool alternative to heavy, hot plastic carriers. Your pet can sit in an open mesh environment, or lie beneath the security of the cloth covered privacy parlor to shelter from the elements

I must say the Privacy Parlour does appeal to me as a suitable place to contain Hannibal Lecter the Blue Heeler.

On your next excursion into the wild outdoors, two cats or small dogs can come with you as can a larger dog up to 14 inches at the shoulder

Bad news for the seniors round here who exceed 14 inches at the shoulder and are rather rotund with it. No free ride for them. Anyway I think this is more the natural order of things.
(from Old Pictures of Dogs Pulling Carts)

Comments: pet strollers

Off-road pet strollers - Jesus. Our kids' double buggy was sold to us as an 'off-road' vehicle. Another two hot days in succession & we're off to Dartmoor for some serious pushing.
Posted by Dick at July 29, 2004 09:07 AM

I used to see those baby strollers out in force in the wilds of suburbia. They seldom veered off- road despite the proximity of adjacent bushland
(where I'd be walking my dog in off-road sandals). Of course the pavement there could get pretty rough - so the suped up wheels may have been warranted.
Good luck in Dartmoor.
Posted by boynton at July 29, 2004 12:52 PM

I cant see Flo or Doug giving you much mileage there Boynton, even if you do wear a shawl and a funny hat.
Posted by Scott Wickstein at July 30, 2004 02:03 PM

Well sadly I think Doug's haulage days are over, but I'd wear a shawl and an unfunny hat if it meant Flo could start pulling her weight, Scott. ;)

I'd even wear a crows beanie...maybe.
Posted by boynton at July 30, 2004 03:34 PM

Huh! We have our own traditional, Australian doggie SUV - the vinyl shopping cart. For true authenticity, the dog has to be an Australian Silky, moth-eaten pomeranian or Maltese with runny eyes, and it should sit on top of the shopping (Tapeworms R us!)
Posted by Helen at August 2, 2004 03:37 PM

Ah yes! The runny-eyed Maltese is perfect.
(They proliferate around here btw- which is bad news. The Blue Heeler thinks any small white dog is a sheep to worry)

The vinyl shopping trolley Wagon is one step above the Old Pram though - which was the vehicle of choice (or neccesity) around Struggletown, as I recall.
Posted by boynton at August 2, 2004 03:53 PM

plain sf hp 99

Likewise, Class is not a class of real instances but a class of classes (namely, the class of all classes of real instances). Instantation could be renamed Class and Class renamed Type to avoid this. In that case, the members of Class would not be classes and the members of Type would not be types
Jargon-busters pick top offenders after 25 years of rewriting history
(via things)

Now YOU can create your own wonderfully, deeply logically flawed science-fiction stories, just by employing the principles outlined in. .
Beettam and Geigen-Miller's 10 Laws of Bad Science Fiction
(via exclamation mark)

Harry Potter in Ancient Greek (via snarkout)
My intention was to recreate a version of the book which would make sense to a Greek from any era up to the 4th century AD who had managed by some magical process (such as would only be taught only to very advanced students at Hogwarts!) to reach the 21st century. ..In other words a cultural transposition is involved, not just finding the words.

99 Duesenjaeger 99 jet hunters 99 Decision Street
99 Luftballons, Side by Side Comparison
(via incoming signals)

Comments: plain sf hp 99

I'm worried now; that first example about classes and instances actually made sense to me. From reading the extended quote I get the impression that it might have originally appeared in an article/whatever on how to write intelligible program code. Oh, the irony, the irony!
Posted by Gummo Trotsky at July 28, 2004 01:10 PM

"an unavoidable conflict of terminology..."
Posted by boynton at July 28, 2004 01:27 PM

Tuesday, July 27, 2004

let's k-nock k-nees

...and the loopiest bit of that loopy film The Gay Divorcee is Let's K-nock K-nees
I agree that it's gloriously goofy - ( see footnote) and had to watch it three times to appreciate the full loopiness.
Yes Night and Day is "pure seduction" but a bit of the gloriously goofy never goes astray in the weak knee stakes.

You can hear a sample of the song here.

rogue waves

'Rogue waves' reported by mariners get scientific backing (via Follow Me Here)
Even though the research period was brief, the satellites identified more than 10 individual giant waves around the globe that measured more than 25 metres (81.25 feet) in height, ESA said in a press release

More on Rogue waves here:
Scientists used to dismiss tales like this of unusually large waves as the folkore of the sea, like monsters or mermaids. But with increases in shipping traffic and oil/gas exploration, accumulated observations have finally led to mainstream acceptance of this seafaring "myth" (source)
Seasteading: A Practical Guide to Homesteading the High Seas

I remember reading a harrowing account of an encounter with a rogue wave in a biography of Miles and Beryl Smeeton and Tzu Hang

Googling the Smeetons brought me to this interesting tangent
One of the things that makes us human is the ability to invent or latch on to metaphors or symbols that enrich our religious convictions and explain or cushion harsh reality. But as reassuring and entertaining as images of storms or fate chasing our vessels may be, they can sound hollow. ... Worse, such images can serve as tools of dysfunctional denial as they gloss over a true, hard reality that we really should acknowledge...

Most of us do not relish staking our lives on lotteries. A world in which chance plays a part seems like a world of chaos. Our discomfort with randomness can take the form of denying its existence altogether (for example in the platitude, "Chance is just a fool's name for fate," immortalized in the appropriately loopy Fred Astaire-Ginger Rogers movie The Gay Divorcee

NB...That was a chance quote. Watched that loopy movie on Saturday night.
Think I'm fated to turn foolish.

antique photos

A woman wearing a hat from "Hats"

Some sisters from the Siblings archive

Portrait with piano from Donated photos

Bill's Antique Photos Pages via J walk

Monday, July 26, 2004

scientist frogs

"...and then movements of the muscular tissue stopped abruptly." - The Scientists' Frog in 19th and 20th century textbook - illustrations

One of 3 PDF conference papers from Images of the Sciences and Scientists in visual Media
via apothecary's drawer

ocean trombone

ocean trombones related to 234

said the spam, and some nice nonsense verse followed about bradford and earrings, but you can't beat the intial image of ocean trombone.

But in a rather anti-poetic move, I put it into google and found one causal connection - trombone shaped buoys to protect whales.

Google image search returned this connection.
But also led to the Online Trombone Journal with articles including Lip Flexibilities for the Advanced Jazz Trombonist and Tips for traveling safely with musical instruments

meanwhile I've only just noticed I've been posting comments with the odd moniker
This doesn't mean anything.

Comments: ocean trombone

but you knew that already
Posted by vernaculo at July 27, 2004 11:05 AM

Posted by boynton at July 27, 2004 11:59 AM

not quite a trombone... I enjoy the silly but stately passage of the trumpet fish past my mask...

cuttlefish families also get a grin
Posted by nardo at July 28, 2004 03:35 PM

Heh - never thought of the trumpet angle.

Lovely pic.

Looks like a member of the Reed family - if indeed there is one.
Posted by boynton at July 28, 2004 03:54 PM

Saturday, July 24, 2004

vintage golf

in full size they are logoed but love these Historic Golf Photos - and the captions.

Jess and her dog Frisky
McEwan's ball lost in rushes at 9th hole
Miss Neville driving with her hat on, close-up

Vintage & Antique Golf Photos & Pictures from glass plate negatives
via exclamation mark

Comments: vintage golf

Just one tiny problem with the first photo there.
If she's planning to follow through, she's going to take the dog's head off.
At least one penalty stroke for that.
Posted by Nora at July 27, 2004 04:58 PM

Known as a "Frisky"?

Is that worth more than a Birdie?
Posted by boynton at July 27, 2004 05:06 PM

Friday, July 23, 2004

my word

Recent comments from the Komment King on the classic BBC radio comedy My Word has boynton all misty eyed about old family lunchtimes with all eight boyntons when this show would round off the fried egg or macaroni cheese of saturdays past.
This page includes a sample of the theme song - once Saturday afternoon wallpaper, now suddenly music with the evocative power of a madelaine.
This site includes a tribute page to Frank Muir.
And apparently we can catch MW at 5 am on Thursday mornings. That would be testing the nostalgic urge of a sentimental nightowl, but she might be tempted to tune in one cold morn soon.

On Sundays it was Flanders and Swann with the roast but that's another post...

Comments: my word

"Roast spuds, spuds, glorious spuds. Nothing quite like them for ... " (A classic F&S as covered by Rambling Syd Rumpo.)
Posted by Sedgwick at July 24, 2004 06:18 PM

When very young I remember dining to The
Reluctant Cannibal...
It was almost enough to put me off the Roast leg of insurance salesman...and glorious spuds served up on any given sunday.
Posted by boynton at July 24, 2004 06:39 PM

Eight Boyntons... good heavens!
Posted by vernaculo at July 25, 2004 05:27 AM

... and if one green boynton should accidently fall, there'd be plenty more roast spuds to go around.

Dietarily incorrect mother-in-law still cooks roast spuds in dripping. Damn the cholesterol and pass the ammunition!

'Good' Cholesterol Protects Women Against Dementia.
"Asked if the findings could be generalized to men, lead investigator Elizabeth Devore declined to speculate."

Ms Devore has a moral duty to undertake an across species study!
Posted by Sedgwick at July 25, 2004 08:30 AM

Well, vernaculo - that is - six boynton kids.
But still a lot of spuds for my mother to cook - especially as there were often ring-ins - the boyfriends of older sibs to dinner as well.
Lashings of gravy and sentiment...

Tried to find what Ms D means by Good, Sedge.
You skim through the article to find the egg or avocado specifications, but could only find 'one or two glasses of alcohol a day'.
Sounds ok - and I think even the invisible cohorts might be happy?
Posted by boynton at July 26, 2004 12:06 PM

Catholic boy in the US meant as an only child the wonder and rush of big family school mornings on spend-the-night sleep-overs. And what was frustrating usually for my friends - sisters in the bathroom, short-tempered parents dressing for work and cooking and finding school-books and settling disputes - was all great excitement, like camping at the zoo, to me.
I'm inclined to the opinion eight Boyntons is a thing for which the world is the better.
The best meal by her enthusiastic testimony I fixed for an important acquaintance of near vegetarian bent was fresh black cod marinated in lime and orange and cooked in bacon grease (drippings).
I didn't tell her about the bacon grease til weeks later.
Posted by vernaculo at July 26, 2004 03:39 PM

Protestant girl with family of catholic proportions (first question everyone asked)
(No - just (free dancing) methodists)
But "camping in a zoo" strikes a chord too. Because we can feel like campers ourselves as the youngest in the zoo.
I remember when I camped in the hush of small families with the onus of order and limelight...could be disturbing.
I've lived alone for long periods of my life, but can miss the comforting chaos and chorus of zoo-watch.
Posted by boynton at July 27, 2004 12:47 AM

antique read

a complete graphic image collection of an antique book. The title is Alice's Adventures Under Ground. (via things)

Hand Shadows To Be Thrown Upon The Wall
A Series Of Novel And Amusing Figures Formed By The Hand
From Original Designs By Henry Bursill, 1859

(via wood s lot)

Comments: antique read

nice fainting billy goat in there...
Posted by nardo at July 24, 2004 12:22 AM

also top marks for the camel... the languid finger for the lovely lips... I'm inspired...
Posted by nardo at July 24, 2004 12:23 AM

I think the Goat will faint until I master my fingers.
Posted by boynton at July 24, 2004 12:38 PM

h reflex

A bit shy of a week, but then counting has never been a strength.
General weakness is lifting.

I'm rather disturbed by the white space creep (at the bottom of the page) that is a consequence of an MT hiatus. Again it could be metaphorical. Fade to blank. Whiteness draws nigh.

Meanwhile a few miscellaneous links:
Vitamin Q Calamities, glitches etc occuring during poetry readings I have given

Kafka Cooks Dinner (via Grow a Brain)
(which just has to team with the old Jean-Paul Sartre Cookbook)

And a recycled link from blogspot days. It's strange but quite amusing to note that one of the most consistent search requests I get is for Sgt Peppers Futons or variations upon this theme, which directs shoppers or beatlefans to this old post. It was a rather link heavy thing - a style which I suspect may be too link heavy for the time-challenged blog-reader. I always thought the best link in that was to a Dylanesque song about Futons - but as it was embedded at the foot of the futon post it may have been overlooked. I played it again last night and have been singing along.

Comments: h reflex

If you want to prevent white-space creep if you take a few days off posting, you need to make sure your front page is set to show a certain number of the most recent posts rather than a certain number of days' worth of posting. I think mine is set to show the last 20 posts I've made rather than the last 7 days or so.
Posted by James Russell at July 23, 2004 07:41 PM

Thanks James.
Remember reading about this Posts vs Days thing.
And just tried to get into the Config to adjust it - but can't seem to find any alt setting to tweak. Just number of 'days'.
Oh well - I'll let it sit, otherwise this post would make no sense at all ;)

And maybe fear of the dreaded WSC is enough to keep us posting?
Posted by boynton at July 23, 2004 09:46 PM

[MTEntries lastn="13"]

something like that in your main template?
Posted by nardo at July 24, 2004 12:26 AM

Just checked out the mannual and see that tag -
Guess I just add this within the MTEntries section?
Or get to like the white space.
Posted by boynton at July 24, 2004 12:36 PM

We anyway are looking for the words and don't notice the white, which is in itself a bit elegant.
Posted by David Tiley at July 26, 2004 03:47 AM

Sunday, July 18, 2004


a brief hiatus of a week

Comments: hiatus

Hia and tus yerself here darlin'

Beyond even Hoffman creepy, yet there's art, life and emotion still there.
Posted by Nabakov at July 19, 2004 11:31 PM

A hiatus! Look, everyone.. a hiatus!
Posted by Scott Wickstein at July 20, 2004 06:37 PM

"A Brief History of Hiatus" by Boynton Hawking.

(Stares into black hole. Heavy!)
Posted by Sedgwick at July 21, 2004 09:06 AM

enjoy yourself!!

Posted by michelle at July 22, 2004 02:44 AM

Thanks for your comments and links.
Must consult Hawking re the brevity of weekness.
Or the brevity of gravity etc.
Posted by boynton at July 23, 2004 02:34 PM


Takes me back to "My Word" and my mentors, Dennis Norden and Fwank Muir.

"B. Rafferty is the sole halfwit."
Posted by Sedgwick at July 23, 2004 03:34 PM

"My Word" was compulsory listening for all the boyntons in "My House", Mr. S, with the pun-showdown the best. Also the way that the applause apparently graded the pun automatically - always sounded like rain to me, heavy showers meaning a clear winner.

and some more quotes on brevity
Posted by boynton at July 23, 2004 03:48 PM

The siren voices of Dilys Powell and Anne Scott-James silkenly wafting out of the bakelite AWA P76 could set a young lad's barely visible hormones a'racing.

"Talk polysyllabic to me Dilys, don't spare me. Have your wicked etymological way with me. Give me your word!"

Posted by Sedgwick at July 23, 2004 04:23 PM

I preferred the sound of Dennis to Dylis m'self.

(DN must have one of the best voices for ironic nuance (and/or common variety pun)?)
Posted by boynton at July 23, 2004 04:30 PM

"ironic nuance", a sadly neglected, powerful art.

When was the last time someone on "Big Brother" or "The Footy Show" ... sorry, I was being Pollyanna-ery and nostalgically foolish.
Posted by Sedgwick at July 23, 2004 04:40 PM

But we endorse Pollyanna Nostalgia for neglected art 100% on this site.

There's no fool like an old school pollyanna but at least she's polysyllabic.
Posted by boynton at July 23, 2004 04:48 PM

O God Sedge. For so long I thought I was flawed.

Now someone else has admitted to the sheer lascivious glory of those wondrous english feminine polysyllables.

Sometimes they even came from someone called Polly, when I would be quite undone.
Posted by David Tiley at July 26, 2004 03:45 AM

sound laughter

Yes we were most amused at the old mimicry recommended by dirty beloved at American variety stage audio sampler, (and especially the five dogs in an argument - although it shows up my efforts of mimicking only 3 dogs. I may have to add two more to the routine now)

Another routine of note was the Laughing Record (Henry's Music Lesson)
This comic sketch was so popular nearly every early record company sold a recording of it. This is the Edison Company's version

It made me wonder how universal is the sound of human laughter?
If it subtly changes over the century along with the joke?

On a tangent, I was vaguely googling (which sounds like gruesome giggling) and found this old report

A control group was set up to measure exactly what happens to muscles when a person laughs. Electrodes were attached to the volunteers' legs at the H-reflex, a neurological pathway that causes muscle contractions. The volunteers were then made to giggle using slides, and the occasional Belgian joke

Comments: sound laughter

Wat maakt een "Belgische Grap" zo grappig? or
What makes a "Belgian joke" this way funny?
Posted by Nora at July 18, 2004 11:12 AM

I wonder how many Belgian jokes it takes to induce a sufficient sample.
How this compares to Hungarian jokes, say.
Posted by boynton at July 18, 2004 06:43 PM

A French friend looking over my shoulder at this post grunted somewhat unkindly, 'A Belgian joke - surely a contradiction in terms'.
Posted by Dick Jones at July 19, 2004 07:34 AM

Friday, July 16, 2004

seurat munch

What Seurat left out of 'La Grande Jatte'
Sometimes familiarity is a bit numbing. You think you know the picture, but there's a plot to discover," says Douglas Druick, cocurator of the exhibit. "We tried to construct a process whereby visitors would come to the realization and appreciation of a picture we're told is great, and we know is great, but in a way that turns the head back into heart."
(via exclamation mark)

( I thought he left out the Yarra, but I digress)

Echoes of the Scream - one of the Online Exhibitions at the Munch Museum
(via fishbucket)

(See also From Stage to Canvas Ibsen's plays reflected in Munch's work)

be a television

Be a Television Repair Man - Instantly via grow a brain

How to be a TV Technician in 1956
you must be prepared to work for it - and perhaps, to wait a little, too
(a frame from Domestic TV Sets in Australia)

I like this prescription too.

Comments: be a television

Please rush me five. I want to understand existentialism in real depth.
Posted by Dick Jones at July 17, 2004 05:21 PM

Me too. And I missed a joke about Munching to understand Angst there too.
Posted by boynton at July 18, 2004 12:30 AM


what better way to ease back into the blancmange with this nice line delivered fresh into the mailbox.

kitchenette doctorate deductible grimace

a whole life story in that one, I suspect.

And on the randomly generated lines, Lost in Translation is a machine that automates the trick advanced by Gummo (using Google), of laundering phrases through Babelfish until you get a decent enough shred to revitalise worn out pop woolies.
(via J walk)

Wednesday, July 14, 2004

yelling cursive

6. The space between words
is the width of the small letter o.

9. Lines of writing are far enough apart
for ascenders and descenders not to touch

From 12 Rules For Good Cursive Handwriting via things

(cursive never looked so desperate)

Comments: yelling cursive

I want me a pen that takes animated ink refills, so my handwriting can look that good too.
Posted by Gummo Trotsky at July 15, 2004 03:04 PM

PS - good to see that you're flued out again, or at least flued out enough to blog.
Posted by Gummo Trotsky at July 15, 2004 03:05 PM


such foul memberies that brings back.

skool ink dip pen blotch gungeglob on end of nib now its crossed flick it upright now its hanging from the ceiling above Teacher who hasn't noticed it swinging gently back and forth..
Posted by David Tiley at July 15, 2004 09:38 PM

Takes me back to the horrors of early primary school.

A natural born backhand molly-dooker I was expected to follow the five past one sloping parallel lined template peering through the page of my exercise book with a steel nibbed pen freshly dipped in the porcelain ink well.

Was rescued from a scrawl worse than death by the next teacher who in these days would have said "WTF!", and despatched the template to the rubbish bin.

Then onto my high school salad days of faux tortoise shell Platignum fountain pens (complete with left handed nibs!) and bottles of Swan Ink ... and the most exaggerated backhand this side of Gussie Moran.

In later life I went straight.

(Whilst previewing this I noted Mr T. has snuck in with his more James Joyce Ulyssean nostalgia. Bloody gazumper!)
Posted by Sedgwick at July 15, 2004 10:13 PM

porcelain inkwells brings back repressed memories of inkblots. Even now I mistrust people with neat handwriting.
Posted by Andy F at July 15, 2004 10:48 PM

Who isn't yearning for a good kerning?

Or up for a discursive discourse.

Posted by Nabakov at July 16, 2004 02:51 AM

I remember one year (grade 4) of trying very hard to do the cursive bit - but while I was doing rote curves I could never lose the sense of the loop as a shape - to draw, rather than just robotically imprint. I was drawing handwriting rather than rote-rendering it.

I have once disclosed my terrible handwriting here before, (it was a task of the Kaleidoscope game) and there is more discursive discourse here.
Posted by boynton at July 16, 2004 01:01 PM

The thumbnail dipped in tar having writ moves on to a far far better place than I have ever writ before Gunga Din. A place where the deers and the antelopes play with a surrey with a fringe on top of Old Smokey all covered in circled waggons.
Posted by Sedgwick at July 16, 2004 02:08 PM

Oops. Spot the wryto.
Posted by Sedgwick at July 16, 2004 02:11 PM

wrytos never look as bad.

I see the evidence of sound training in your handwriting Sedge - eg the assurance of the esses.
(And yours is a far far better scan than mine.
Think I need to seriously dust my scanner)
Posted by boynton at July 16, 2004 02:21 PM

I obviously crafted my esses in a mad woman's kitchen.

Oh, ♥Clarissa♥ let me count the ways.
Posted by Sedgwick at July 16, 2004 02:49 PM

I have blocked out all memories of learning to write. Too too traumatic.

In year 12 -- just before HSC exams, my English teacher handed back my (late) essays unmarked & claimed they were illegible. Said that they looked like a cockroach (dipped in tar?) had crawled across the pages.

Posted by wen at July 17, 2004 02:22 PM

Always look on the bright side, wen. After the nuclear holocaust, your essays will be the only body of literature to survive.
Posted by Sedgwick at July 17, 2004 03:51 PM

Monday, July 12, 2004


this bird has flu


Comments: flown

The Flu Hat Cure.

Mix up a litre of hot toddy - usually brandy, whiskey/hy or rum, one quarter cut with fishpiss (water) and bring to fingerhurting but not boiling heat.

Then add a cinnimon stick the size of Donald Trump's real dick, half a dozen cocktail-sized lemon slices and some drunkenly hammered cloves (enough to spill over Clara Bow's lips without flaking.)

Simmer, ponder and prowl for the length of four good 60s pop songs.

Now add a big swingeing tablespoon of unsalted butter from happy cows, another equally butch helping of brown sugar, and an extra shot of brandy into the mix for emergencies.

Simmer and stir for a few minutes. And the same fer yer hot toddy too.

Then put a hat on yer foot and starting drinking. When you can't focus on the titfer no more, that's when the flu cure is kicking in.
Posted by Nabakov at July 14, 2004 12:18 AM

Wot Nabakov said. He may be a rum cove but he is a delight.

I am sorry to hear you are sick, gracious Boynton. Get Nora onto the cures.
Posted by David Tiley at July 14, 2004 03:14 AM

1 part Boddington's Irish Moss.
10 parts single malt.
Glacé cherry.

Light blue touch paper and retire.

And before you drop off into the arms of Morpheus and Lethe wards do sink, brighten your day with the musings of this very odd chap.

(Suspect he lives not too far from Royston Vasey.)
Posted by Sedgwick at July 14, 2004 10:48 AM

Ah merci mes amis malt.

I've have partaken of the brandy bit of the suggested cures anyway - and will shortly go out scouting for an umbrella to match.
There's an enormous garden type hiding dormant in the cellar here that may be proportionate to the dosage of brandy I prescribe for myself.
And the sixties swingin' song I'd choose to "Simmer, ponder and prowl"?
The Julie London number here (#3) - whose lyrics are very easy to remember even after a few HT's...

Apologies for not being able to get around the traps folks. Gosh - a day or two is a long time in the b'spherical loop.
(I'll check out that link properly sooooon, Sedge.)

Posted by boynton at July 14, 2004 08:25 PM

the Julie London link seems to have broken?

Try #22 here:,%20Vols.%201-2%20(Remastered):1921939424
Posted by boynton at July 14, 2004 09:02 PM

Watch a few
Marx Brothers
Quai Brothers
or any funny

Roll your eyes.
close your eyes

Posted by Nick Piombino at July 15, 2004 12:08 PM

I think Manzillworld man may be onto something. Since visiting his site, I've cleaned my bathroom twice and thrown out that eavesdropping prick of a cactus.

Also Sedgie, I can't be fcuked hiking over to yer site now so I'll say here, great tip about The Convent in Daylesford. The Penthouse looks like just the spot for a transcendentally carnal weekend.
Posted by Nabakov at July 16, 2004 03:04 AM

Well, I've just had a dentally carnal Thursday, having spent all of Wednesday at 'Madame Lash's House of Oral Pain'. The screams could be heard from the moon.

"Root carnal, crown to come. That will be half your house and your first born child. Here's a complimentary tooth pick. Thank you sir. Have a nice day."
Posted by Sedgwick at July 16, 2004 10:41 AM

thanks Nick, sound advice
a quick roll of the eyes
has been my standard morning warm up for years.

rolling the eyes may help with flu
not sure how effective it is with dental stress
Posted by boynton at July 16, 2004 12:49 PM

Friday, July 09, 2004

lab legs

From the Dog Digs
(I am digging a leg)

...I am pilling your Lab...
Elm Peg Leg


Memo to Scott and the ubers...

Things Online That I am sick of
Blogs with the suffix -pundit in the title. These must all immediately be changed to –wankerinbasement

(via grow a brain)

boynton.ubersportingwankerinbasement has a nice sound to it, actually.

Comments: pundit

Posted by Lance Boyle at July 10, 2004 08:42 AM
Posted by boynton at July 10, 2004 11:46 AM
Posted by Andy F at July 11, 2004 09:00 AM

Wots the German for wanker?
Posted by Scott Wickstein at July 11, 2004 08:17 PM

Wot's the wanker for German?

URLs are green and hyperlinks are gray.
Posted by Nabakov at July 13, 2004 11:52 PM

an edifying search through the vastly popular lands of swearing in foreign languages suggests:

please excuse my french.
Posted by boynton at July 14, 2004 08:42 PM

Scott asked:
Wots the German for wanker?

Selbstspieler, perhaps? (Actually I've no idea, so I'm just coining a word that sounds vaguely plausible, if a bit literal-minded...)
Posted by James Russell at July 15, 2004 04:01 PM

trolley hunter

In a shallow grassy valley they lie, like animal skeletons scattered across a suburban savanna. Down in the creek, there are more. Tossed against rocks, their frames are bent and riddled with reeds, gently smothering once shiny steel ribs. In Broadmeadows Creek, the life of an abandoned supermarket trolley continually proves to be "nasty, brutish and short
The Australian Retailers Association says that about 60,000 trolleys... go missing from Victorian stores every year.
The Age

Fainting Goats
Fainting goats are a slightly smaller version of the standard goat, who, believe it or not, thanks to a genetic condition called myotonia congenita, actually seem to faint when they are startled.
As strange as this may sound, these little critters have actually served an historical purpose. Shepherds often kept the goats in with their flocks as insurance in case of predator attack...

(via exclamation mark)

Comments: trolley hunter

Thanks. The Fainting Goat entry explains a couple of people I work with.
Posted by Nabakov at July 9, 2004 07:57 PM

maybe they just have inertia...

I think I can rela..
Posted by at July 9, 2004 11:02 PM

Good news for Fainters and/or Martyrs.
As an occasional fainter I'm pleased that it could, in certain circs, serve the community.

Not something I can relate to ;)
Posted by boynton at July 9, 2004 11:28 PM

Do fainters have support groups, y'know like Fainters Anonymous?

I can see someone opening a door into a meeting room, looking at all the prostate bodies inside and then gratefully swooning themselves.
Posted by Nabakov at July 10, 2004 01:29 PM

That's it. I always knew I was the product of a clandestine breeding experiment by British fascists. Now I know what it was.

Posted by David Tiley at July 14, 2004 03:12 AM

Every day in every way it's getting Fainter...
Posted by boynton at July 14, 2004 08:26 PM

Thursday, July 08, 2004

the walker

"The Walker" - Articles from the 50th Anniversary Special Edition of "The Catholic Walker"

Mustering as much dignity as our shabby appearance permitted and with as much ceremony as the lurching van allowed, each recipient of an icypole at Myrniong stepped forward and rewarded Bushy in kind
Ice Ceam Bix March 1964

Sun: Walked into Mass at Pheasant Creek about 4 miles. We left our packs along the road and came back and collected them. From there we went through fairly heavy bush to Mason’s Falls where we had lunch. .
Kinglake National Park September 8 - 9th 1951, Author unknown

ped charter

Not so long ago the entire life experience of an individual was limited by the distance he or she could walk. A trip to the next village was a trip to the edge...

from the Australian Pedestrian Charter Pedestrian Council of Australia

A group making its way through a swamp
Date: 1939
Location: Bendigo District
Subject: Walking, Floods, Swamps
Record Number: MM 008965
(Museum of Victoria Biggest Family Album)

Comments: ped charter

I love this: "A trip to the next village was a trip to the edge..." Imagine that kind of mystery being just a walk away. It's like reading our Thoreau in Maine or Cape Cod.
Posted by Greg at July 9, 2004 02:21 AM

Posted by Lance Boyle at July 9, 2004 07:14 AM

Yes - I suspect my local villages are rather thin on edge - but I may work up the nerve to walk up later and have a look around.
Posted by boynton at July 9, 2004 03:48 PM

Wednesday, July 07, 2004


This means My dog is hungry. She can't escape her past

Well - according to the Blissymbolics Phrase Guide.
There is some poetic license involved with the word Hungry, of course.
I mean in its figurative nipping sense of the word.

see also Genesis in Blissymbolics

And on a canine theme, how could I not link to a blog featuring a chocolate labrador.
(Especially one named tag) (via things)

Comments: bliss

Blissymbolics. Now, here is someone with too much time on their hands.
Posted by Dick Jones at July 7, 2004 03:33 PM

Mmm - wonder how that looks?

btw - Just foundthe Poetry Page:

I like the symbol for "metaphor"
like a vacant stop sign...
Posted by boynton at July 7, 2004 06:27 PM

[] >^V+ T>^l <> 0^2-[].

[]^o+ ! []^o+ !
Posted by Nabakov at July 7, 2004 09:35 PM


Posted by boynton at July 8, 2004 10:56 PM

^ ^
O -

[] []
[] []
& &
Posted by Nabakov at July 8, 2004 11:38 PM


The Daily Sensible A Sensible Newspaper for Nice People (via/by as above)

(archived) World News in Blissymbolics
via A Guide to Alternative Handwriting and Shorthand Systems via Plep

Monday, July 05, 2004


It was a bit disconcerting to be accosted by jockeys while innocently strolling through Fed Square yesterday. They were begging us to visit the relocated racing museum. It was hard to suddenly talk casually with a jockey impersonator, and to decline without offending the delicate sensibility of a hoop, fake or not.

Comments: jockeying

We were there yesterday. Must have missed you by a short half head.

Parts of the display were a bit off-putting. An iconic steed what ran unplaced only once and won a Melb. Cup reduced to an ashtray hoof.
Posted by Sedgwick at July 5, 2004 04:05 PM

... went there after the 'must see' cartoon exhibition at the State Lybee.
Posted by Sedgwick at July 5, 2004 04:09 PM

Nothing against the museum, Sedge, in fact I wanted to go but time was against us.
Just the running-into-spruiking-jockeys unexpectedly.
Tapped into my old clown-phobia I guess.

Saw that same iconic steed racing iconically on the big screen (is that an icon yet?) as we waited over an hour for lunch.

Wonder whether the eponymous filly will ever make it to the museum?
Posted by boynton at July 5, 2004 04:14 PM

Spooky. That same 'must see' - I 'just saw'
(well I read about it on the SLV site actually)
Posted by boynton at July 5, 2004 04:16 PM

We must stop channelling like this. People will start talking. Even the horses?

Now don't tell me you went to that caf/bistro! If it is we've also experienced dining a la Godot.

Posted by Sedgwick at July 5, 2004 04:28 PM

The eponymous equine? Not sure whether it is on display. Didn't get up to the Vic Market.
Posted by Sedgwick at July 5, 2004 04:29 PM

I loved that "cultural icon" when I was young, Mr. S. (His voice still does it for me, actually) so I read the link with interest and hope it was the peanut-butter-like substance and not the nylon that got him talkin.

Godot is exactly right.
Vladamir and I had to invent all manner of conversational tricks to fend off the worms.
There was even 'a boy' who would appear with a non-commital message from the Kitchen every so often, but alas Lunch did not materialise.
(Sorry - that was a spoiler)

We would have been better off grazing among friends at the Vic Market.
Posted by boynton at July 5, 2004 06:19 PM

I can see I've wandered into the Starters Paddock.

Put a lobster onto whoever's gonna win for me.

*wanders out - champers running low*
Posted by Nabakov at July 6, 2004 12:35 AM

Wouldn't be punting a crushed asian on the eponymous steed wot is currently running (I use the term loosely) like a crippled crab.
Posted by Sedgwick at July 6, 2004 10:28 AM

The jockey pic is great, but I am left with this weird feeling that only the man in the middle is real.

ps - you did it for us all. Gummo has emerged!
Posted by David Tiley at July 7, 2004 02:41 AM

Poor old "Boynton"
(For readers who may not know - there is a local racehorse with this name, whose 'current' form is not so good apparently)
I'd still bet on B - btw.
beware the dark horse, o ye of little faith.

Yes, David. Only the Middle man is real.
The colours look similar to contemporary football jumpers.
I wonder which VFL team would have proudly worn the spots?... err...Spotswood?
Posted by boynton at July 7, 2004 12:46 PM


...the most untranslatable word in any language, reckon the translators, is ilunga, a word in the Bantu language of Tshiluba for a person who is ready to forgive any abuse for the first time; to tolerate it a second time; but never a third time. And I suppose we all know that kind of person.

(via DRT news)

In conversation I would have struggled to express this concept concisely, and probably would have tried to hatch something out of a little red hen/ three strikes mix.

Sunday, July 04, 2004


Meanwhile at the Pub I read some grafitti instructional about love
but returning to the Lounge wondered whether the decor would agree.

But I do like this list of contemporary aphorisms

Comments: stag

No excuses will be accepted.

Posted by David Tiley at July 7, 2004 02:36 AM

Puts us all out of a job, doesn't it.
(Or turns us out on the street, as the case may be.)
No more fraility to explore, let alone plead.
Posted by boynton at July 7, 2004 10:44 AM

Friday, July 02, 2004

d spam

Another nice line from the spammers simply fell from the sky.

dahlia onlookers related to 56

Was it something I said?

Whatever, the line makes me think of this image somehow.

Comments: d spam

diatribes hit my pubic hair like shower cream!
Latinizing Rosella illusions
relevantly prenatal brownies
mocks situate somewhat
sinister drool
bereft sifting attested rooftop
Barnard curry Magdalene
propellers branding Floridian
cutting greedily Vishnu importers
cohesively lockups anding Catholics salivary rapturous
milking postman Fijians taker
Ewing signature Okamoto cobble
Florence southpaw springier
stray starve serpents household

- Anon, early 21st century vers libre spamotry.

Who'd thunk the first true AI-generated posey would be an unexpected byproduct of the ongoing semantic and orthographic battle of wits between semi-autonomous systems attacking and defending our mail boxes.

This is shaping up as the most ontologically-stimulating era yet since the late 1700s/earlier 1800s.
Posted by Nabakov at July 4, 2004 06:56 PM

This just in:
"For example, impresario inside indicates that tomato inside maestro a change of heart about customer defined by sandwich."

Enough ontological-stimulation in that spam sandwich alone to serve a po-mo poesy picnic.

Quite complementary to the "invisible literature"
fare of the previous post?
The skewed wonderland brew.

more on the genre here
Posted by boynton at July 5, 2004 01:23 PM

Spam - the snail on steriods in yer letterbox. Slimy and crunchy yet edible.
Posted by Nabakov at July 6, 2004 12:29 AM

"the future lies with cone snail farming"
Posted by boynton at July 7, 2004 06:37 PM


Cleans and protects miniature golf gear
Softens and cleans netting on lacrosse sticks
Refurbishes antique fishing lures
Helps remove stuck prosthetic leg
Lubricates adjustment knob on overhead projector

lines from 2000 uses for WD40

(via the ultimate insult)

Comments: wd40

'Adds moisture to and preserves ivory and bone items'. Good news here for poachers & surgeons.
Posted by Dick Jones at July 3, 2004 09:14 AM

A nice piece of what Ballard called "invisible literature" - the language of instruction manuals, ads, catalogues, reports and forms, brochures and news media, which paints a portrait of a society as detailed and nuanced as the best fictional literature.

I'm saving the 2000 uses list as a source of improving suggestions for appropriate occasions.
Posted by Nabakov at July 3, 2004 12:39 PM

I have been using WD40 to lubricate my electic clocks - afterwards I suffered respiriatory problems - I wonder if I am slightly asthmatic? will you investigate as this is quite disturbing?
Posted by victor at July 18, 2004 04:43 AM

Was just about to use it to remove permanent marker off soles of shoes.
Might heed your warning.
There must be a downside to something with 2000 amazing uses.
Posted by boynton at July 18, 2004 06:47 PM

Thursday, July 01, 2004

found alphabet

Alphabet Shoot...Found letters photographed by 5 and 6 year olds
(via diversionz)

where's gummo?

Mr Trotsky sighted last night at something hundred hours.
We semaphored across the room.
We exchanged blogging stories briefly as you do.
On behalf of the ozblogosphere, I wished the Potemkin a safe and speedy return.