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Sir What You Want

I highly recommend that tomorrow night, you tune in to ABC TV at 10:55 PM and watch jtv Live. The Grates are going to be featured, live at The Forum, and it’s going to be absolute pop genius. You will be smiling while watching it, because that’s how The Grates roll.

Or, if you want to save some time, like I’m going to, you could go out tomorrow morning and buy The Grates DVD ‘Til Death Do Us Party: Live At The Forum. That way you get the whole show instead of an edited version, and you also get to watch it at, say, 10:55 AM, instead of 10:55 PM. And, you can watch it twice. (At roughly thirty dollars for the DVD, watching it twice means you get sixty dollars worth of value for only thirty dollars! Sweet!).

It’s gonna be tops.

It Starts Tonight

It starts tonight. As of tonight, I will be in one of only four states; watching cricket, sleeping, working, or watching cricket. All other parts of life have been made temporarily redundant, and all transitory chores have been either eliminated (e.g. showering, shaving), or assimilated (e.g. eating, which will be done whilst watching the cricket or working).

I will still be contactable, as long as you want to talk about the cricket.

Real Indie

A while back I was reading an article about Rivers Cuomo getting married (while listening to Weezer’s Green Album). And I realised that Christianity is a bit like music.

In music, people are always redefining their sound. In the nineties, Weezer and Ben Folds Five wrote songs with feeling. It was called emo. Then some ladies came along and thought this music was cool, because hey, it was quality stuff. They got together, called themselves Simple Plan, and started them writing ‘emo’ music. Lots of people who wouldn’t know emotion if it came up and bit their stupid heads off liked it. So Weezer and Ben Folds Five started calling what they did ‘real emo’, so as not to be confused with The Used.

It’s always happening. I mean, if Coldplay is alternative, and Ben Lee is indie, then what is it that I’m listening to?

Once upon a time, people were just people, there was in fact, no definition needed. Then in the first division - and the following pattern is hardly surprising with this event in mind - of all time, humanity rejected God. So we had God’s people, and not God’s people. Then we had Israel, and the other nations. Then Israel divided, and we ended up with the Jews, and Gentiles. Then Christ came, some Jews accepted this, other didn’t, and we ended up with Jews and Christians. Then, through recent history, we’ve been through some weird times, and now I have to label myself a ‘Christian-reformed-evangelical-Calvinist-Presbyterian-protestant’ just so that I don’t get lumped in the same group as so many other religious nuts that are just as spiritually void as anyone. When all’s said and done I’m not sure anyone knows the difference anymore anyway.

I’ll end this tangle of thoughts with a quote from D.M. Lloyd-Jones:

What has been said of the church in the past is true today. The church, though she has been reformed, must be constantly re-formed, semper reformanda. Always reform! The church is always to be under the Word; she must be; we must keep her there. You must not assume that because the church started correctly, she will continue so. She did not do so in the New Testament times; she has not done so since. Without being constantly reformed by the Word the church becomes something different. We must always keep the church under the Word.

Dreaming In Acoustic

The other night I had a dream that I watching Sufjan Stevens play. It wasn’t an organised gig, it was just random. As time went on, everyone seemed to drift away, until I was the only one left. Then he played The Tallest Man, The Broadest Shoulders, and it was awesome. In what I think was a bit of a cynical move he then played a cover of Voodoo Child (by the Rogue Traders) and everyone came back again, because it’s an up-beat song, and I thought that was a bit silly, but I laughed anyway, because the cover was funny. But as soon as it finished they all went away again. After that I was really hoping he was going to play Casimir Pulaski Day and R.E.M.’s The One I Love, but I’ll never know if he did, because I woke up.

Absolutely Random Indoor Cricket

Last night was the first game of our indoor cricket season. It was only the second ever game of indoor cricket I’ve played, but it was mad fun. We won, by about three runs, getting ahead on the second last ball.

I have no idea how you denote figures for Indoor cricket, but I scored nineteen runs with no outs. Bowling, I conceded sixteen runs, and took one wicket. Fielding, I managed one catch and one run out (did I hear a direct hit from a backhand flick between my legs?). I had to keep wicket for a few overs, where I took one catch and one stumping, and conceded one bye. Nothing amazing, but pretty solid. From here I can only go downhill.

So now we wait and hope that the team we played was the best team in the competition, and not the worst, because if it was the worst, we’re in trouble. Did I mention we’re playing in division D?

Absolutely Random Cricket

It’s a topsy turvey world innit?

Over the weekend we’ve seen pretty much every limit cricket has to offer. Bangladesh beat India, and now most Indian cricketers have had their houses attacked. Ireland beat Pakistan, and the Pakistani’s houses aren’t faring much better, but they have more tragic things to worry about, after their coach Bob Woolmer collapsed and died not long after their unexpected exit from the World Cup. Andrew Flintoff capsized a Pedalo (for those like me who don’t know what a Pedalo is, it’s a pedal boat thing) at four AM in the morning, and has been stripped of his vice captain status because of it. England then almost did the unthinkable against Canada. Australia clobbered the Netherlands by two hundred and twenty nine runs - another drubbing that asks why the small teams should be in the tournament, albeit that the Bangladeshis and the Irish have already answered that question.

It makes my head hurt just thinking about it.

On to something more light hearted. The (apparently) great thing about YouTube is that you can easily watch thousands of videos uploaded by other people. The great thing about sub-continental people is that they love (and by ‘love’, I mean, ‘are willing to kill over’) their cricket. There’s no denying that they have an unhealthy love for Shoaib Akhtar, much like Shoaib’s unhealthy love for performance enhancing drugs, but for the most part they just love great cricket. World Cup time has seen an explosion of cricket videos on YouTube. This is great, because you can just watch clip after clip of cricket highlights packages. I’ve been sitting here watching them and exclaiming things like “I watched that game, that was they day I was supposed to be at the school swimming carnival but instead I went to Harvey Norman to watch cricket on their lounge display! Oh the memories!”. Yep, I am cool.

This is my favourite (warning, low level bad language). Gaarn, watch it all. The end is a doozy if you’re into cricket humour.

Does anyone else remember watching Mulally royally stuff up that easy win? That was a funny day, that was…

(All the best folks, as fellow inhabitants of this world, you need it. And this was just a post about cricket…)

Beware Synth

I went looking for Art Of Fighting’s new album, but being on the Inertia label, it was unsurprisingly hard to find. While searching however, I found Little Birdy’s Bodies single. I don’t fancy the song all that much, but I checked the b-sides. They included an alternate version of Come On Come On (which I think is pure pop genius), and a track called Beware Wolf. I wasn’t sure if it a cover of the Gyroscope song, but I got pretty excited with the fact this it might be. Beware Wolf was my least favourite track from gyroscope’s Are You Involved? album, and if you understand how good that album is, you’d understand that it’s still an awesome track. By the time I got home I think I was shaking in anticipation, and I wasn’t let down, because it was the Gyroscope song, and it was all synthed up brilliantly. Fantastic stuff.

Learned From Spicks and Specks

Terri Psiakis is not funny. In fact, she used to be not funny in an “it’s okay, when she’s on the radio with Ross Noble I still laugh (at Ross Noble)” type of way, but now she’s really quite irritating. I believe that if she stopped putting all her effort into showing everyone her cleavage - which seems to be entirely what she’s preoccupied with lately - she’d be quite a lot more bearable.

No one loves Terri Psiakis. I mean, no one loves Terri Psiakis more than Terri Psiakis.