Brain graze



They seek him here, they seek him there, they even seek him at his auntie's place in Baghdad. But no sign of Mo So, the Iraqi Minister for Information. Those crazy cats at are keeping watch and have all sorts of distractions and news until Mo comes scrambling from the rubble declaring the infidel dead and buried. Latest report:
30 April -- BBC confirms reports that M.S.S. is alive in Baghdad, fears for his safety, and "seeks surrender" to US forces. G.I.s refuse to make arrest, reportedly because M.S.S. does not appear among the 55 faces on the "Most Wanted" deck of playing cards.... We offer soldiers free "I Helped Rescue the Iraqi Information Minister and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt."
You can also select whom you wish to play Mo in the upcoming Hollywood blockbuster on his life and times.
I like the idea of replanting Mo in famous battle scenes:


If my neighbourhood is illustrious enough to come to the attention of US Secretary of State Colin Powell, the least I can do is post a pic.

Col referred yesterday to last month's big drug bust (first told to the greater world by this blog) along the Great Ocean Road which wends west of my old sleepy hollow.
The 50kg of heroin seized in the bust two weeks ago came from a North Korean owned ship which authorities have discovered was carrying a senior official of North Korea's ruling Workers Party. According to THE AUSTRALIAN the Federal Government believes the state-owned freighter Pong Su was allegedly sent to Australia on a heroin run to raise money for Pyongyang.
The FBI is now poised to send a team to investigate the freighter and its mysterious voyage.
The US Government believes the Pong Su mission was one of many drug-running operations sanctioned by North Korea to raise funds over the past two years.
With the capture of 26 North Korean nationals on barid the ship, US officials are hopeful of gaining a potentially valuable insight into the scope of the alleged drug operations.
Foreign Minister Alexander Downer yesterday confirmed intelligence agencies had found that a representative of Pyongyang's ruling Korean Workers Party was aboard the ship -- adding to the mounting evidence of a direct link with Kim Jung-il's communist regime.
And our mate Col Powell (well he comes from Jamaica, so he knows the rules of cricket, hence he's a mate) seized on the arrests, saying they were evidence of state-organised drug trafficking.
``North Korea is exporting not only missiles. But as we saw in an Australian bust the other day - drugs,'' Mr Powell said.



Left Coast mummers have again had their hypocrisy hung out to dry. Deciding on behalf of assorted offended showbiz types that some free speech is more costly than others, the William Morris Agency has used the courts to close down web site BOYCOTT HOLLYWOOD. (Motto: Hey Hollywood....listen up!! you do not speak for me!!)
It's a lousy act, I know. But look at the upside. Never again will conceited, untalented dipsticks be able to claim latter-day McCarthyist victimhood.
And remember, a tsunami of opposition to socialist spear-carriers is swelling across the western world. And if that ain't got backlot moguls demanding fresh talent then my verbal contract's not worth the paper it's written on.

The site's gutsy operators have their final say:
This is another fine example of how Hollywood feels that their opinion and view is the only one that matters. Average citizens are disallowed the free expression of our point of view because they don't like being challenged for their views. I stand firm on the belief that we have done nothing wrong at this website - - The celebrities have expressed their views, and we have responded in kind by expressing our views regarding the thoughts and ideas that they have, publicly, expressed.

Reckon Hollywood Boycott is a skank-free zone.



ALBERT LANGER, scourge of anyone to the right of Jim Cairns in the 70s and still unashamedly an unreconstructed Maoist (anarcho-Stalinist), explains why not all on the Left are against the war on Saddam and liberation of Iraq. As ever, Alby is lucid and passionate, albeit a little lonely.


INIMITABLE WISDOM today from the Billabong where the Prof deftly exposes the strange marriage of corruption and political correctness that underpins the Victoria Police these days. He rightly rounds on portly Chief Commissioner Christine Nixon's determination to enforce gender equity at all levels in the force. (Hope the crooks are pursuing the same course, or this will all end in tears). Anyway, as the Prof points out, what the heck has gender equity got to do with it when the prime function of Victorian cops is to collect traffic fines to fund every crazy program dreamt up by apparatchiks at the People's Republic of Latte-Wank.
Here's a challenge for the Chief Porker: Equity across the force in muscle tone and fitness, taking into account, of course, the age of personnel.


Former Victorian Opposition Leader Denis Napthine has finally shown a touch of pit bull that was glaringly lacking in his stint at the Liberal Party helm.
Ripping into the Bracks Government in State Parliament last night, the Member for Portland in the state's struggling south-west, reflected the great unwashed's growing disenchantment with the bourgoisie by referring to "Albert Park latte sippers and Williamstown wankers".
These beachside former working class suburbs have been colonised by the tosser classes and are respectively the seats for "Poster Boy for Gays'' Deputy Premier John Thwaites and "I Love Austraya'' Premier Steve Bracks.
Bemoaning Labor's "desertion" of low-income families, Dr Napthine told Parliament the modern ALP had "sold out to the dual-income latte sippers of Albert Park and the Williamstown wankers".
Can't find a response anywhere from Thwaites, but I was right on the money with Bracks' reaction. In fact I offered a colleague last night 10-1/on that he'd use the wanker's favourite word (Williamstown or wherever).
Ah Bracksie, like all dorks, he's predictable. Nappy's colourful, apt words, the Premier said, were "inappropriate''!!!


Has Adelaide magistrate Michael Esmond Frederick, who presides at the Port Adelaide Magistrates Court, delivered the first heavy artillary barrage on the home front in the culture wars?
FREDERICK has bleeding hearts pumping overtime all over Australia in the wake of his stack-blowing when sentencing a drug addicted prostitute who had broken bail.
Ensuring nods of agreement wherever commonsense is practised in Oz, 'is Worship let fly at the miscreant and the useless class of public trough guzzlers who for 30 years have provided nothing but platitudes and pathetic excuses for her type.
Minutes before handing down the sentence for soliciting for prostitution and breaching a bail condition, Mr Frederick told 21-year-old Tashara Lee-Anne Were: "You're a druggie and you'll die in the gutter . . . I don't believe in that social worker crap . . . you can go to work.
"Seven million of us do it whilst 14 million like you sit at home watching Days of Our Lives, smoking your crack pipe and using needles, and I'm sick of you sucking us dry. Little Johnnie taxes us with all sorts, and now with salt tax and maybe war tax.
"We dicks pay for your life. It's your choice to be a junkie and die in the gutter.
"No one gives a shit, but you're going to kill that woman who is your mother, damn you to death."



SCOTT WICKSTEIN comments with not a lot of optimism on the future of Medicare, which despite a $920million Federal injection, is foundering and will require more Australians to pay more for the doctor if the truly disadvantaged are to continue to be guaranteed free health care. My wife manages a medical practice and reports that the main reason doctors are forced to charge above the bulk billing fee is the increasing cost of indemnity insurance. Here's a chance for the government to do something revolutionary while keeping doctors' costs down and making the country a better place for the socially responsible: Dramatically decrease, or even stop for a period, enrolments in law schools. We've got enough of the parasites. All they do is expand the privileges brought by their protected industry and encourage their colleagues to become damages collectors for the whinging classes or worse, politicians. And then they make laws that limit the freedom of everyone except ambulance chasing lawyers. If Australia has developed to a stage where we no longer need textile workers, book printers or electronics makers, I say we can do without more lawyers. Do very well, indeed.

Courtesy of WALLACE, Dubya's buddy, we learn that the Coalition of the Willing won this stoush so quickly and convincingly because the US, Britain and Australian play brands of football that involve bone-crunching controlled mayhem.
Football is violent, but it is not aimless violence. Each individual collision is a tightly circumscribed competition that measures each man's heart, drive, intellect, skill and cunning. On both sides of the ball, strategy and counterstrategy - the multiplicity of options on a single play - contrive to create an intricate and sophisticated contest. Football is as cerebral as it is violent.
The only people who cannot comprehend football's sophistication are snobs who would like nothing better than to believe that these slashing wide receivers and great gridiron behemoths smashing into each other are dumber than they are. What a devastating ego shock to realize that the average college professor would be incapable mentally, as well as physically, to play successfully the modern game of football.
Why incapable? Because a working intellect under intense psychological pressure and physical exhaustion is an entirely different quality than a working intellect languishing in the library. Players must execute a sophisticated battle plan swiftly, decisively and
flawlessly in extreme situations, while a similarly equipped and talented group of athletes is doing its best to stop them. Play after play, there is no room for error. In football, there is no time for still more "resolutions." The threat must be perceived and evaluated and the correct decision made now or the consequences could be ignominious defeat. The ethos of football and its prerequisite talents, attitudes and qualities are inculcated in abundance in America's military leaders.

The UNwilling, with a few minor exceptions, prefer a contest which can take two hours to achieve a nil-all result.

The ethos of what Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld called "Old Europe" is exemplified in the game of soccer. Soccer is a beautiful and well-powdered sport, much like "diplomacy," bringing to mind men in top hats and striped pants walking herky-jerky, as in black-and-white silent newsreels. Soccer is French jeu d'esprit, and it is the sport of the United Nations.
Soccer rules are easily understood, and the sport is imbued with a comradely egalitarian aspect. Players run about. They wave their arms. Sometimes, they fall down. Sometimes, they can even be tripped, and it is in these moments that Europeans first learn to be either bad actors or diplomats; tumbling on the turf, clutching a "bruised" shin, then bounding up unhurt to take a free kick (or a post-war oil concession.) Soccer matches can and frequently do end in a tie. This abundance of scoreless ties leads one to suspect that for soccer players, as for U.N. diplomats, the goal is to stall until ultimately nothing is resolved, and no one can really be blamed. Tie-breaking "shootouts" in international play ought to be eliminated altogether, since an egalitarian draw of no winner, no loser, and no hurt feelings is a U.N. dream come true. The activity, in the end, is pointless. But fans will neither despair nor rejoice at the outcome; aficionados in smoky salons, sipping espresso, can debate endlessly who played the better game.
Is it any wonder that the Old European nations shrink from decisive action, taking only tentative, mincing steps, hoping they'll never have to fight for anything and unable to decide firmly whether there is anything at all worth fighting for? Consider also what American football is not. It is not about passing the buck, walking while others carry the load or debating until you are overcome by events. Nor is it about ennui, languor and the c'est la vie attitude.



It's plainly not difficult to create art in Britain today. None of your agonising drafting, harmonising of colour and textural elements or unveiling of universal profundities for artist Carey Young. Nor, it seems, is there the joy and pride of sharing her artistic endeavour.
YOUNG demonstrates that the hardest part of making art today is keeping a straight face.
For the £24,000 Beck's Futures award she has submitted only a framed legal document declaring that she is keeping her work of art secret.
Oh well, she may not have much to show, but the artist still has her principles. She has refused to submit her work in protest at the award being sponsored by Beck's, the brewers. She says that big business has an "insidious" effect on art and she does not want her work exploited for commercial gain.
Well she wouldn't want to appear hypocritical, would she? Er, would she? Young conceded yesterday that she had accepted a £4,000 cheque from the sponsors for being shortlisted. "I need the money to survive," she bleated.