New remixes on Projectile Vomit
http://projectile-vomit.blogspot.com/2009/03/back-to-boards.html
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Touchy
Let me be frivolous for a second.
Aside from dicing with dodgy cyclo drivers and rambling up and down ancient temples Jo and I have found time in our SE Asian sojourn to indulge in a massage or two. Or five.
In fact, we could've called this trip Foot Rub 09 such was our dogged dedication to pampering our paws.
Massages are, as you all probably know, extremely cheap in Asia. They're also famous for unusual twisting, pulling and trampling and, of course, infamous for rubbing and tugging and massaging the baby.
When I settled in to try a Khmer (Cambodian) massage I thought I wouldn't be in for any nasty surprises. Furthermore, I was assigned a male therapist which led me to believe I probably would not be offered a 'happy ending.'
It started off innocently enough. Khmer massage is technically similar to Thai massage with similar manipulation of meridian points. Therapists also often clamber on top of you, using body weight to apply pressure with knees, thumbs and elbows. When my therapist began to crawl up the backs of my legs I thought, fair enough. He skipped over the gluteal region which was fine and started applying pressure to my lower back. So far so good.
He then proceeded to park his rear end directly onto my rear end with his package aligned neatly between my butt cheeks. He continued to massage my lower back requiring a forward and back grinding motion which made the situation in my butt a little bit like sliding a frankfurt in and out of a hot dog bun.
At this point a man begins to wonder just who exactly is going to get the 'happy ending' in this particular massage configuration.
For a gruelling sixty seconds I wondered whether my masseuse was in fact numb from the waist down and had no idea what was going on. I ceased thinking about my lower back spasm and instead concentrated on spasming my anal sphincter tight enough that if I had coal in my ass I'd poop diamonds.
I can guarantee you there was no tipping that night.
Aside from dicing with dodgy cyclo drivers and rambling up and down ancient temples Jo and I have found time in our SE Asian sojourn to indulge in a massage or two. Or five.
In fact, we could've called this trip Foot Rub 09 such was our dogged dedication to pampering our paws.
Massages are, as you all probably know, extremely cheap in Asia. They're also famous for unusual twisting, pulling and trampling and, of course, infamous for rubbing and tugging and massaging the baby.
When I settled in to try a Khmer (Cambodian) massage I thought I wouldn't be in for any nasty surprises. Furthermore, I was assigned a male therapist which led me to believe I probably would not be offered a 'happy ending.'
It started off innocently enough. Khmer massage is technically similar to Thai massage with similar manipulation of meridian points. Therapists also often clamber on top of you, using body weight to apply pressure with knees, thumbs and elbows. When my therapist began to crawl up the backs of my legs I thought, fair enough. He skipped over the gluteal region which was fine and started applying pressure to my lower back. So far so good.
He then proceeded to park his rear end directly onto my rear end with his package aligned neatly between my butt cheeks. He continued to massage my lower back requiring a forward and back grinding motion which made the situation in my butt a little bit like sliding a frankfurt in and out of a hot dog bun.
At this point a man begins to wonder just who exactly is going to get the 'happy ending' in this particular massage configuration.
For a gruelling sixty seconds I wondered whether my masseuse was in fact numb from the waist down and had no idea what was going on. I ceased thinking about my lower back spasm and instead concentrated on spasming my anal sphincter tight enough that if I had coal in my ass I'd poop diamonds.
I can guarantee you there was no tipping that night.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Consumption: Singapore part 1
Singapore seems to be an island economy solely designed as the infrastructure to support a vast network of air-conditioned shopping malls. That's probably a little more cynical than it needs to be, but today, after nine days in Singapore the sheer magnitude of the consumerism at play in this buzzing, gleamingly clean metropolis hit me square in the gut.
(Nevermind that that same gut has been spoilt by a palate-widening smorgasbord of Asian meals. Bar two instances I have not yet had two repeated meals in nine days. Mee pork, rojak, mee siam, popiah...the vocabulary needed just to sustain proper eating here is staggering.)
Singapore is a consumer's paradise. For instance, I've seen more Charles and Keith (a local shoe store chain) outlets than MacDonald's. Once, I sat in the middle of one such store during lunch and observed the shopping frenzy unfold and the tempo was more suited to a dingy flea market than upscale mall. So dense are the shopping choices that it took my travel companions three hours to move twenty-five metres worth of shopping mall.
(Small aside: whilst trying to maintain my zen in the midst of the chaos I also tried to no avail to unravel the inner workings of the female mind when hunting for that most elusive pair of pumps. I had a Eureka! moment recently when I figured out the process to buying women's bags but this process of visualising feet in shoes co-ordinated to all possible outfits already owned by a woman is evidently far too many variables for the male brain to process.)
I was hoping for a similar level of choice when it came to local music but after asking around and then hunting through a few CD stores myself I found that the Singapore music industry is fledgling in scope. A few of the rock bands I was able to sample like B-Quartet, Electrico and GreatSpyExperiment have an international and progressive sound showing lots of promise. Local urban and hiphop talent is so far unrepresented on shelves.
Thus far, then, Singapore could be representative of the best and worst of Asian cultural excesses. Pragmatic governance delivers sturdy infrastructure to give the people what they need on a day to day basis: ultra-efficient public transport, construction that actually finishes, organized and ubiquitous food outlets, a large selection of the best in consumer products from around the region. In exchange there is a feeling, reflected by some Singaporeans, that there is some suppression of free speech and the pursuit of economic and academic goals over artistic and cultural endeavours.
In the midst of this I've found Singaporeans to be a mostly friendly people, even if I had to throw a few doubles takes to understand the wonderfully inclusive beast of a language that is Singlish.
Off to Bangkok tomorrow and Phuket after that. More thoughts on Singapore to come with more photos, as well as For Men: How Women Buy Bags.
(Me tasting durian for the first time: not recommended if the idea of a plastic/creamy/strandy fruit that smells like feet and makes you feel hot inside doesn't appeal to you)
(Kaya toast - wafer crunchy bread with a spread made of ?coconut)
(Rojak - a salad dressed with a thick sweet prawn based dressing coated in peanut)
(Nevermind that that same gut has been spoilt by a palate-widening smorgasbord of Asian meals. Bar two instances I have not yet had two repeated meals in nine days. Mee pork, rojak, mee siam, popiah...the vocabulary needed just to sustain proper eating here is staggering.)
Singapore is a consumer's paradise. For instance, I've seen more Charles and Keith (a local shoe store chain) outlets than MacDonald's. Once, I sat in the middle of one such store during lunch and observed the shopping frenzy unfold and the tempo was more suited to a dingy flea market than upscale mall. So dense are the shopping choices that it took my travel companions three hours to move twenty-five metres worth of shopping mall.
(Small aside: whilst trying to maintain my zen in the midst of the chaos I also tried to no avail to unravel the inner workings of the female mind when hunting for that most elusive pair of pumps. I had a Eureka! moment recently when I figured out the process to buying women's bags but this process of visualising feet in shoes co-ordinated to all possible outfits already owned by a woman is evidently far too many variables for the male brain to process.)
I was hoping for a similar level of choice when it came to local music but after asking around and then hunting through a few CD stores myself I found that the Singapore music industry is fledgling in scope. A few of the rock bands I was able to sample like B-Quartet, Electrico and GreatSpyExperiment have an international and progressive sound showing lots of promise. Local urban and hiphop talent is so far unrepresented on shelves.
Thus far, then, Singapore could be representative of the best and worst of Asian cultural excesses. Pragmatic governance delivers sturdy infrastructure to give the people what they need on a day to day basis: ultra-efficient public transport, construction that actually finishes, organized and ubiquitous food outlets, a large selection of the best in consumer products from around the region. In exchange there is a feeling, reflected by some Singaporeans, that there is some suppression of free speech and the pursuit of economic and academic goals over artistic and cultural endeavours.
In the midst of this I've found Singaporeans to be a mostly friendly people, even if I had to throw a few doubles takes to understand the wonderfully inclusive beast of a language that is Singlish.
Off to Bangkok tomorrow and Phuket after that. More thoughts on Singapore to come with more photos, as well as For Men: How Women Buy Bags.
(Me tasting durian for the first time: not recommended if the idea of a plastic/creamy/strandy fruit that smells like feet and makes you feel hot inside doesn't appeal to you)
(Kaya toast - wafer crunchy bread with a spread made of ?coconut)
(Rojak - a salad dressed with a thick sweet prawn based dressing coated in peanut)
Monday, December 29, 2008
Lazarus leaving
About to leave Australia for the first time in ten years.
I think I'm nervous. I've had irritable bowel for the last three days. Travel is not one of those things that I'm usually taken to - I prefer to exit my own comfort zone through uncomfortable introspection or moderate social embarrassment on home soil, but I'm looking at this as a chance to expand my horizons.
Have been doing push-ups in a vain (read: unsuccessful) attempt to appear more menacing should there be some kind of physical confrontation I need to fight my way out of.
Very much the travel virgin, and the big wide world might eat me up. See you on the other side.
Have a happy new year!
I think I'm nervous. I've had irritable bowel for the last three days. Travel is not one of those things that I'm usually taken to - I prefer to exit my own comfort zone through uncomfortable introspection or moderate social embarrassment on home soil, but I'm looking at this as a chance to expand my horizons.
Have been doing push-ups in a vain (read: unsuccessful) attempt to appear more menacing should there be some kind of physical confrontation I need to fight my way out of.
Very much the travel virgin, and the big wide world might eat me up. See you on the other side.
Have a happy new year!
Monday, March 03, 2008
King's disciples
(also posted on Projectile Vomit)
Michael Jackson ft Justin Timberlake and Clipse - Billie Jean (studiogypsy remix)
This is my musical response to the remixes that latch onto the 25th anniversary re-release of Michael Jackson's 'Thriller', the biggest selling album of all time. Kanye West's version of 'Billie Jean' and will.i.am's remix of 'The girl is mine' are passable efforts mostly because the respective producers are wise enough to get out of the way of the musical juggernaut of the 80s. When the producers decide to try to recreate the Santana new-school-meets-old-school vibe in 'Wanna be startin' something' (Akon) and 'Beat it' (Fergie via will.i.am) the results are what you expect: even 25 years on Jackson's electric vocals remind you why he was the king, and why Akon and Fergie will be remembered only as mere bumfarts from the colon of commercial pop.
Michael Jackson ft Justin Timberlake and Clipse - Billie Jean (studiogypsy remix)
This is my musical response to the remixes that latch onto the 25th anniversary re-release of Michael Jackson's 'Thriller', the biggest selling album of all time. Kanye West's version of 'Billie Jean' and will.i.am's remix of 'The girl is mine' are passable efforts mostly because the respective producers are wise enough to get out of the way of the musical juggernaut of the 80s. When the producers decide to try to recreate the Santana new-school-meets-old-school vibe in 'Wanna be startin' something' (Akon) and 'Beat it' (Fergie via will.i.am) the results are what you expect: even 25 years on Jackson's electric vocals remind you why he was the king, and why Akon and Fergie will be remembered only as mere bumfarts from the colon of commercial pop.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Projectile vomit
I know it's been a long time since posts. Just to reassure you all I'm not dead - my friend n.t. and I have set up another blog to focus more on the creative aspects of our lives:
projectile-vomit
Two posts up there from me already. I'll post my vomits to projectile-vomit to this blog too so you only have to check out one place if you want, but n.t. will have interesting vomits of her own in time for you to peruse too!
projectile-vomit
Two posts up there from me already. I'll post my vomits to projectile-vomit to this blog too so you only have to check out one place if you want, but n.t. will have interesting vomits of her own in time for you to peruse too!
Friday, August 10, 2007
Letter to my MP. It's a start.
My good friend Bohemian Rhapsody is up in the Northern Territory experiencing the changes that are going on following the Government's radical and highly suspect intervention to curb child sexual abuse in indigenous communities. She has been there since the intervention was suggested, and now, long after the issue died away in the local press, she's still there and she emailed me today.
It's easy to forget things when you're removed from their immediacy. I'll admit to having not thought about it for a while, but after she emailed me I decided to make a start. Thoughts are only thoughts until we give them voice through action.
If you want more information on this issue you can find it here at the Australians for Native Title and Reconcilliation site.
What follows is my email my MP Ms Nicola Roxon. I urge you to do the same. Find your MP here at the AEC website.
***
Dear Ms Roxon,
I'm angry but not surprised at crisis-whore John Howard.
I'm writing with deep concerns and misgivings about the Government's paternalistic response to the Little Children are Sacred report. I'm writing with the hope that the Labor party has the courage and wisdom to uphold basic human rights in this situation, and to advocate for intelligent and comprehensive solutions to the problem.
The logic behind much of the proposals highly is suspect and defective, flying in the face of both recommendations that arise from both experts in the field as well as the lessons learnt from general world history.
Prohibition didn't work for the Americans in the 1920s and they didn't have to contend with the complex cultural issues that exist for indigenous Australians. Does John Howard have his nose so deep into the backsides of the Americans that he cannot remember this?
I hope that the vision of the Labor party is not so clouded.
The proposed changes to strip away the permit system and land titles from Aboriginal communities makes me wonder about the last time I saw a nasty land title wander out of a filing cabinet and beat up a poor unsuspecting indigenous child.
Oh wait - wait, I remember when - it was in the Dark Ages, when using logic and reason got you burnt at the stake, or hung.
The other thing I want to touch on is the fact that there will be provisions exempting this legislation from the Racial Discrimination Act.
You know that if this happened to any other ethnic group, particularly any that might reside within your electorate, there would be widespread outrage.
The remoteness of the indigenous communities involved means that exposure of this issue is limited and I will be the first to admit that I only know about it because I have a friend who is in the Northern Territory on the ground, in the field, experiencing it firsthand.
I paraphrase my friend in saying that the Government's actions violate the principles of democracy and fairness this nation is meant to be built upon. Any emotional connection to the Aboriginal people notwithstanding, I cannot stand by a Government that employs myopic problem solving skills that sacrifice basic ethical standards.
In closing, I hope the Labor party can serve as a vital check against this madness. Have you and your colleagues read the Combined Aboriginal Organizations proposed plan?
http://www.antar.org.au/content/view/491/1/
Thanks for your time. Yours in good faith,
Dr David Mai
MBBS BSc(Med)
Western Health Footscray
***
It's easy to forget things when you're removed from their immediacy. I'll admit to having not thought about it for a while, but after she emailed me I decided to make a start. Thoughts are only thoughts until we give them voice through action.
If you want more information on this issue you can find it here at the Australians for Native Title and Reconcilliation site.
What follows is my email my MP Ms Nicola Roxon. I urge you to do the same. Find your MP here at the AEC website.
***
Dear Ms Roxon,
I'm angry but not surprised at crisis-whore John Howard.
I'm writing with deep concerns and misgivings about the Government's paternalistic response to the Little Children are Sacred report. I'm writing with the hope that the Labor party has the courage and wisdom to uphold basic human rights in this situation, and to advocate for intelligent and comprehensive solutions to the problem.
The logic behind much of the proposals highly is suspect and defective, flying in the face of both recommendations that arise from both experts in the field as well as the lessons learnt from general world history.
Prohibition didn't work for the Americans in the 1920s and they didn't have to contend with the complex cultural issues that exist for indigenous Australians. Does John Howard have his nose so deep into the backsides of the Americans that he cannot remember this?
I hope that the vision of the Labor party is not so clouded.
The proposed changes to strip away the permit system and land titles from Aboriginal communities makes me wonder about the last time I saw a nasty land title wander out of a filing cabinet and beat up a poor unsuspecting indigenous child.
Oh wait - wait, I remember when - it was in the Dark Ages, when using logic and reason got you burnt at the stake, or hung.
The other thing I want to touch on is the fact that there will be provisions exempting this legislation from the Racial Discrimination Act.
You know that if this happened to any other ethnic group, particularly any that might reside within your electorate, there would be widespread outrage.
The remoteness of the indigenous communities involved means that exposure of this issue is limited and I will be the first to admit that I only know about it because I have a friend who is in the Northern Territory on the ground, in the field, experiencing it firsthand.
I paraphrase my friend in saying that the Government's actions violate the principles of democracy and fairness this nation is meant to be built upon. Any emotional connection to the Aboriginal people notwithstanding, I cannot stand by a Government that employs myopic problem solving skills that sacrifice basic ethical standards.
In closing, I hope the Labor party can serve as a vital check against this madness. Have you and your colleagues read the Combined Aboriginal Organizations proposed plan?
http://www.antar.org.au/content/view/491/1/
Thanks for your time. Yours in good faith,
Dr David Mai
MBBS BSc(Med)
Western Health Footscray
***
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