I'm still not a comedian...

... so if you've com here in search for a laugh, you should know better. It would appear, however, that you don't. I could try to be funny; that would make sure you'd never come here for a laugh ever again. Or I could send you on your way to something funnier. And since I'm such a big nice softie (that could change. Keep on your toes), I'll just do it. I'll give you only one word... well, ok, make that two words... I'm too kind:

Comedy, Inc.

What can I say, it presses my buttons. I could come to like Aussie comedy as much as I like British humour. Or maybe that's just the best (as far as I'm concerned) example os Aussie comedy. Or perhaps I just caught one of the best episodes. Or it could be that Aussie comedy really is that good.

If you're unfamiliar with the show, there's nothing to be ashamed about it; I was once in your shoes, not that long ago, really. I can lend a hand. If you are, however, familiar with it, skip the paragraph. And thus, let the healing begin. Comedy, Inc. is made of short (and I mean short, for the most part) sketches, not unlike "Smack the Pony" or "Big Train" (as opposed to "Black Adder" or "'Allo, 'Allo", which tell a long story by comparison), but, unlike, say, "The Office", the said sketches aren't bound to a single theme, although recuring themes abound, especially with shorter sketches. Also unlike "Saturday Night Live" (how does that rate in the funny scale? Mild? Moderate? Doesn't really work for me...), there are no musical guests, no musical interludes every two sketches (or at all) and no monologue bits, at least not in the Jay Leno or Conan O'Brien sense of the word "monologue". Also no lengthy opening credits to make you wonder why don't they call the show "Sunday Dawn (barely a-) Live".

It just presses my buttons. As a rule of thumb, whatever mocks the Spice Girls is alright. Having a go at Las Ketchup is really just icing, but who doesn't like icing? Or maybe it's the general australian accent that makes everyting sound so great (doesn't it?).

Comedy, Inc., Stingers and House, M.D. (Jesse Spencer is in it. It counts as Australian Television. It does! No? Well, ok, but it's still alright) really make me want to flog myself to the bone for missing Neighbours all those years ago, when I had the chance to watch it. Really, I could just punch myself, if only I knew how to do it propperly (that's me, do it right or not at all... except when it matters). On the other hand, I just recently discovered I can put my hands in a reversal praying stance with minimal effort. Think of the implications! This could come so handy if only I weren't an atheist...

Until we meet again.

Pax vobiscum atque vale.

ArabianShark really should have remembered that parting sentence for his previous update. Try to make a double entendre out of that.


The above should be pronounced "Moskva".
Not only is Moscow a lovely vacation spot (I hear. I've never been there, much as I'd like to someday), but also the inspiration for two distinct German bands more than two decades apart. If we're going to talk (notice how I slip the words "we" and "talk" inconspicuously int the same sentence, creating the illusion that there's an actual dialogue in the making) about music, we (meaning I) should make sure we (for once, meaning we) both know the tunes being discussed. Hello, copyright laws. We wouldn't steal a song. I suppose I could direct you to the lyrics, but that's hardly any substitute, so I'll allow myself to be unburdened with a couple of links for your pleasure and Google Video can handle all the copyright fuss for me, with the added bonus of coloured, moving image.

Enough ado about only too little. Onwards then.

First, by alphabetic preference and chronological precedence, "Moskau", by the 1979 Disco Band Dschinghis Khan.

For those of you who don't speak German, I've taken the liberty of translating the first verse. It conveys the tone of the tune well enough:

Beautiful and mysterious
Towers of red and gold
Cold as ice
Who does really know you
A white fire burns
In you so warm

For those of you who do speak German and agree with my translation... uh, great.
For those of you who do speak German but do not agree with my translation, well, give me a break, people, I don't speak German myself, I'm using Babelfish, and we know how trustworthy that little gadget is.

Fast forward twenty something years and voilĂ , "Moskau", this time by the well known Metal (is it?) Band Rammstein.

Before we go into lyrics, do notice that the Google Video title mentions Tatu. Although it was rumored that they'd lend their voices to this theme, the female voice heard in Russian is actually of Viktoria Fersh, who, to the best of my knowledge, is not a member of t.A.T.u..

And onto the translated lyrics:

This city is a prostitute
It has red spots on her forehead
Her teeth are made of gold
She is fat and yet so lovely
Her mouth falls to my valley
When I pay her for it
She takes off her clothes but only for money
The city has me in suspense

And so on and so forth... it doesn't change much as the tune goes on.

Now picture this: Talking to a Russian person who very much loves his/her country and, specifically, the city of Moscow and who happens to have somewhat conservative moral values (just enough to take offense in hearing their Capital being compared to an old tart, how conservative would that have to be?), you casually drop into the conversation how much you like that "Moskau" song by some German band, can't quite remember the name off the top of your head... and neglect to mention the fact they sang at the 1980 Summer Olympics in Moscow... and, as luck would have it, your Russian acquaintance figures you're too young to remember the Disco Age... or perhaps they're too young to remember the Disco Age. Where does this leave us? With a very angry Russian, I trust. And all you wanted to evoke was that light-hearted, joyful tune about love tasting like kaviar and merrily dancing on tabletops under the (less than) slight influence of cold and pure Vodka. Makes you think, huh? That's why I've been trying to find words such as "joyful" and "light-hearted", because "gay" might have misled you.

And now that that's come up (Oy vey! At least I didn't say "come out"...), a question: has homophobia stripped us of gaiety? More importantly, why am I rambling about double entendres when I should be revising for my last exam of the season (Human-Computer Interfaces... doesn't sound like much? You should try it!)?

Mellow Farewells... as in relaxed and unhurried, easygoing farewells... as in kind farewells... as in... Oh, just peace out!

ArabianShark is polishing his favourite buzz-saw for the ritualistic June Deforestation of the Chin, also know as, the removal of the Exams Stubble. I never seem to find five minutes to shave in January or June...


TV can have very odd efects on you, if you stare at it for long enough.

Just yesterday I thought it was yestersay, thus today, yet, sa I watched the very same shows I had wathcehs the day before, i.e, yesteday, I came to realise it was the day before yeaterday, that is, yesterday, since yesterday is actually today and today can only be tomorrow, when I'll undoubtedly write this post. Making sense? No? It's OK, it's no supposed to.

Still, what is it with re-runs? Fox channel has re-runs boiled down to a science. I know there's a pattern somewhere in there, and I just know I'll crack it as soon as I can be bothered to see a programming guide. Until then, I have other things in my mind. Things like Networking Fundaments II.

Meanwhile, there's no reason why you shouldn't have a bit of fun and games. How about 10 different puzzles? The rules are simple and half of the puzzle is figuring them out. Go on, give it a try.

Until I find another wacky reason to write a weired paragraph.

Senseless, but by no means nonsense farewells.

ArabianShark is swimming in circles. Whales often do that as a menas of rounding up prey in a cylinder of air bubbles, yet sharks have no means of producing such an effect. Why on earth and sea is lil' shark over there going about round and round beats the crap out of me, but there he goes again.

Round and round and round and round and...