Australia Day Meme c/o pavcat and others.
This will help you understand why it is that I am a media studies person not a literature person. And perhaps it can be explained by the fact that I read almost nothing but science fiction.
AUSTRALIAN LIT MEME
1) Which Australian poem are you most confident you could recite from memory?
There was movement at the station
for the word had got around
that the colt from old Regret had got away.
That’s it, homies. That’s all I know of any Aussie poem…. no, wait, I know one more:
Jesus Christ,
superstar,
Burnin’ round town on his Yamaha,
Chucked a skid,
Scared a kid,
Burned his arse on the petrol lid.
My favourite bit is the part where he scares a kid. I couldn’t swear that this was penned by an Orstraylian.
2) Which of the Seven Little Australians are you?
What are you implying?
I don’t know any of the Seven Little Australians. I have never read a story with them in it. Nor watched a telly show featuring them.
3) Which is your favourite Patrick White novel?
Couldn’t name even one. Not even one. I’m sorry.
4) Which is the best Patrick White novel?
Can I call a friend?
5) Which Australian fictional/dramatic/poetic character do you fancy most?
I think that would have to be the man from Snowy River, for obvious reasons. Unless I could be … no. Actually, I don’t want to be anyone from Monkey Grip.
6) And which do you identify with most?
Oh, you were asking me which I thought was hawtest in that last question? Riiight. Sorry, same answer.
7) If you had to read five Australian poems to a heterogeneous unknown audience, which five would you choose?
Five that were written down. But I think I’d start with this one because it actually reads aloud quite well. I would perhaps accompany it with some interpretive dance.
8) Which five Australian books would you take to a desert island?
48 Shades of Brown by Nick Earles.
…
fuck, I can’t think of any Australian books I’ve read that weren’t written by Nick Earles or Helen Garner. I know I’ve read some, I’m just not sure which one’s I’d like to take to an island. Nice ones? Maybe ones I haven’t read? How’s about that Patrick White – what’s good by him?
9) If you were a guest at Don’s Party, would you be
(a) naked in the pool
(b) upstairs having sex
(c) outside having sex
(d) sulking with a headache
(e) huddled round the TV
(f) crying
(g) more than one of the above (please specify)
(h) other (please specify)
Waaiiiit… this wasn’t just a film, was it?
I’m not sure.
Last (state) election I was herding a few hundred endorphine-charged, sweat-bathed dancers through two rooms of late night fun. I think crying would have been my preferred option at that point.
10) Tim Winton or Christos Tsiolkas?
Because I once had a discussion with Galaxy about Tsiolkas and decided I didn’t like his sexual preferences much (I got the idea he was into underaged young men. But then I didn’t mind Loaded (was that the name of the film?). The only Tim Winton I’ve read is Cloud Street. It was ok, but it was a bit depressing.
11) Banjo Paterson or Henry Lawson?
Banjo, because there’s never enough banjo. Banjo-banjo-banjo.*
12) Henry Lawson or Barbara Baynton?
Lawson because I don’t know Babbs.
13) What’s the worst thing you’ve ever seen at a writers’ festival?
I saw someone’s undies once. I can’t remember who’s.
*This is a reference to New Orleans jazz.
no, THIS is the greatest thing on the internet
c/o balcony.
i’m not sure I’m buying the whole ‘flappers are great’ line any more
I’ve just read this review of a book I’d like to read, and while it’s all good stuff, I have some concerns.
I’d been thinking of an article where I talked about the way the popularity of 20s charleston with contemporary swing dancers meant that, finally, it was ok for women to dance alone (again). Just like in the 20s. And then I was going to write about flappers and women’s lib in the 20s. Reading the stuff I just have on blues women in the 20s, I could probably add a bit about how the 20s were just frickin’ hardcore generally. Compared to the late 30s anyway, mid WWII when we were wearing silly overly fitted dresses and then busily being kicked out of jobs and back into the kitchen.
But then I read this bit of the review:
Women of the 1920s began voting
And all I could think was ‘sure, if they were white and lived in the US’. Votes for women weren’t happening all over Europe in the 20s. And sure as fuck you weren’t voting in AUSTRALIA if you weren’t WHITE.
And then I thought about 20s charleston today and how the people who get out there and do it are generally the more advanced dancers (in ‘mixed company’ that is – when I’m at Funbags or other beginner-dominated gigs the noober dancers do all kinds of crazy shit without worrying that some frickin’ rockstar is watching). It seems social 20s charleston is not the People’s Dance as I had imagined it in two or three years ago.
I’m not sure I’m buying the whole ‘flappers are great’ line any more.
…and strangely, I’m reminded of the line from a Hot Club of Cowtown* song:
I can’t tame wild women,
But I can make tame women wild.
A sentiment I heartily endorse.
*If you don’t know the HCOCT, you should. That’s some hawt shit.
the dark side of the swinguverse
No, it’s not all Whitey’s Lindy Hoppers and solo jazz routines.
[Benji Schwimmer West Coast Swing Jack and Jill]
When I talk about ‘groover’ lindy in Melbourne, that’s the sort of thing I’m talking about. That’s not lindy hop in that clip, it’s west coast swing (a peculiarly American phenomenon – though we have our ceroc), and I have to admit that that’s some pretty shmick dancing. Particularly when you keep in mind that that’s a jack and jill comp (ie, they weren’t actual dance partners – that’s all made up shit). It’s just that it’s so… well, look at it.
That guy – he’s some pretty hot stuff. I couldn’t lead like that. But… you know what I mean.
Why isn’t it lindy hop?
Ok, so once you get past the music (which is the sort of pap I hear far too regularly out lindy hopping here in Melbourne – especially the first song), there’s the really upright bodies (even leaning backwards), the pointy toes, the lack of bounce, the heels on the ground (putting their weight backwards, rather than onto the front half of the foot)… it’s a completely different bodily aesthetic. And very white. This is honky dancing (note the way they sort of nod down to the ground, then up. And flick their hair about).
It’s almost latin, but look at their hips. There’s no saucy Cuban isolation there.
But I do have to say – that’s some pretty dang shmick dancing. Not my cup of tea, not one little bit (though it does look like fun), but that don’t stop that being some pretty good leading and following.
…. do I have to mention the whole black pants, black dress shoes, red collared shirt thing? No. Nor do we need to talk about black pants and black crop tops.
[Don’t Cha (Pussycat Dolls) – West Coast Swing demo]
Yep, that’s that sweet west coast action as well.
And the scariest part of all this is that this sort of dancing is getting about in Melbourne, masquerading as lindy hop. And I. Don’t. Like. It.
[edit: I can’t stop watching that Benji clip. It’s mesmerising. The Squeeze watched 10 seconds and left the room in disgust]
important news
So I’ve made the transition to MT3.3 and with far less fussing than all you wordpress babies. There will be improved comment filtering coming along soonish (once The Squeeze finishes fixing some crap plugins).
Best thing about this version of MT? The ability to resize the little box you write entries in. I’m sure there are other good things, but I’ve yet to discover them.
To celebrate, here’s a nice photo for The Squeeze (and the frighteningly large number of submariner types in my peer group):
This picture is from this site (c/o baris-tah!)
greenies
Now I have a bit of time on my hands (and the inclination), I’ve been getting into the gardening a bit.
We have some very sad natives planted in the front garden, but I’ve a solution for their neglect. I take our empty juice bottles (the big two or three litre jobs), fill them with water then turn them upside down, necks dug into the ground near the plant. The water slowly seeps down and out, doing a neat slow-drip watering job. Ta-da! The plants have been a lot cheerier, even with this piss-weak bit of attention.
I’ve also had a chance to order some seeds from the wonderful Eden Seeds which arrived yesterday. It’s not exactly the best time of year, but we’ve put some rocket in a planter and I’m going to have a look at a couple of peas tomorrow (Oregan something or other and purple podded peas). I can’t believe I forgot to get beans… though they’re not always that happy in the warmest weather.
We love the purple beans/peas, even though The Squeeze can’t really tell that they’re purple. I love the way they have purple flowers and then such amazing purple pods. They’re so lovely. That little picture up there is from the Eden Seeds catalogue, but this picture here is from our garden. That’s my hand there.
I’m looking forward to this action.
There’s also a range of purple beans which change colour when you cook them (to green) which I’ve had my eye on, but didn’t chase up. They’re called Magic Beans. (!)
Meanwhile our self-sowed (grr) cherry tomatos are taking over, crowding out the new lemon verbena plant I put in, and threatening the little baby purple chilli plant. The herbs I planted a while ago are going great guns, especially the lemon basil and the Vietnamese mint and flat leaf parsley. Usefully these are herbs we use quite often. Everything else is plodding along happily and the new yellow passionfruit vine is very happy in its big pot. Remind me to post photos of the insanely big purple passionfruit vine. It’s starting throwing ripe fruit onto the concrete and I’ve already had almost enough passionfruit for the season. It’s amazing shit, though. If you’re in Melbourne, we should arrange a handover so they don’t go to waste (we tend to give people bags of the things all season).
Jimmie Lunceford Rhythm is our Business
I’m currently enjoying (another) Jimmie Lunceford album called Rhythm is our Business. I can’t find a link to it, I’m afraid. It seems that quite a few of these CDs I’m picking up second hand are actually ones that you could mail order or get as one of those monthly music club deals. So they’re not on amazon or the other major music sites. Which sucks, because they’re actually really great compilations – some unusual stuff that isn’t on the more usual CDs.
Anyway, this Lunceford one is really neat. It has a few of my favourites (Hitting the Bottle (which I LOVE), Organ Grinder’s Swing (great fun for dancing but goes over like a lead balloon with Melbournians because it has those tinkly ‘organ’ bits), Wham (Re-Bop-Boom-Bam) (fun lindy fun)), but also a couple of new things that I didn’t have before. Perhaps the most interesting version of Black and Tan Fantasy I’ve heard so far. Most of the versions I have are by Ellington (as you’d expect), with a few other ordinary versions. But I really like this Lunceford one – it has a different intro and the initial trumpet solo feels quite different.
I’m a big fan of second hand CD shops, and regularly turn up nice surprises. Nice cheap surprises.
I was going to post a clip which I remember as Black and Tan Fantasy, but is actually something else (East St Louis Toodle-oo or something) with the Five Hot Shots or the Berry Brothers or somebody dancing…
…look, I’m having trouble remembering, ok?
Anyway, because I couldn’t find any of those things on youtube (one search is enough), here’s the Nicholas Brothers, who frickin’ rock.
And because the 70s were a very strange place, here’s the Nicholas Brothers with the Jacksons.
And because I can’t keep away from youtube, here’s something else:
Yes, there were skips dancing lindy in the 30s. Though I’m not sure Dean Collins counts as a skip – he was Jewish. That’s some serious jazz action he and Jewell McGowan are pulling out, west coast lindy style.
The best bit of that clip is right near the end where the white dood sings Darktown Strutters’ Ball – that’s some seriously dodgy racial politics right there.
flipper fest
Having seen ducky’s post, I’m now having second thoughts about the thongs I bought The Squeeze the other week (this photo doesn’t quite do justice to the extreme green of the things). I picked them up at a supermarket for a couple of bucks as a joke – an extension of the cricketing hat I bought him for christmas (he doesn’t play cricket, never has, doesn’t really watch it, but like the thought of watching it. Or falling asleep on the couch in front of it).
I spent half of this very beautiful Invasion Day asleep – 12 hours of slumbery goodness. I have no idea why I slept so late (til 12!), but I do know I was tired out dancing last night, was very tired riding home and then fell into bed and asleep straight away with only a token grizzle.
I think it’s the insane solo jazz binge kicking me.
meaningless side note
When I follow, I find I’m spinning every third move. This is partly a Melbourne thing – the leads stand around a lot waiting for the follow to finish making them look good. They don’t make much constructive use of horizontal (lateral?) space – perhaps a result of our relatively crowded dance floors, but most probably because there’s a very particular dominant ‘lead culture’ in this town.
When I lead, I very very rarely do spins myself. It’s directly related to my other life as a follow – I just get sick to death of the stupid things.
nerd
The first recorded black woman blues singer (ie first black woman to record a non-religious commercially released song), Mamie Smith’s 1920 song Crazy Blues had the lyrics:
I’m gonna do likea Chinaman… go and get some hop
Get myselfa gun… and shoot myself a cop.
That’s about sixty years before NWA and Ice-T came along.
Adam Gussow (in “‘Shoot myself a cop’: Mamie Smith’s Crazy Blues as Social Text” (Callaloo 25.1 (2002): 8-44) claims:
Ths song is… an insurrectionary social text, a document that transcends its moment by contributing to an evolving discourse of black revolutionary violence in the broadest sense – which is to say, black violence as a way of resisting white violence and unsettling a repressive social order (10).
Dang.
I’m doing some reading on blues and women blues singers of the 20s and 30s and it’s hardcore stuff. No pussyfooting around this topic. I’m still working on ideas I wrote about briefly here, here and by extension here.
And to think a bunch of white middle class kids are using this shit to dance dirty at late night parties. Though I guess they were doing exactly the same thing in the 20s too.
I can’t seem to get past the idea of the 20s as a far more radical moment than the late 30s. And the 20s were charleston time, flapper time – women dancing on their own, not wearing stockings, cutting their hair, staying up all night and getting divorced. While the 30s were lindy hop time, partner dancing, seriously tailored clothes with lots of darts and War Work.
It’s really nice to have a chance to finally read and read on things that are entirely ‘off-topic’. I can read whatever I like and write about whatever I like. I still can’t get over that!
Meanwhile, I’ve done that paper I had to do and a draft of that guest blog post thing (which is scaring me – the pressure!). I’ve also got a stack of stuff about online community to read, including some neat stuff by Barry Wellman about the relationship between offline and online community. That dood is beginning to rock.
…I’m sure my interest in writing about seriously dance-related stuff (as opposed to more media-centered stuff) has lots to do with the fact that I’m actually going dancing more often than I have in a year – I dance pretty much every day and do at least 2 serious out-the-house dance things a week. My brain is ticking over all the time. And I feel like I have the time (and freedom from stress) to really think about ideas and make them coherent (sort of, anyway).
No doubt this is post-thesis euphoria and will soon be all over, replaced by some sort of post-thesis anxiety/depression/self-doubt.
For now I’m enjoying myself.
NERD!