Reminiscences of a food tragic
Stephen Estcourt, Food Tragic
We’ve got lawyers in our street. Yes, I know, the planning laws in South Hobart need a major overhaul, but if you’re going to have a lawyer a few doors up the road, then you could do worse than Food Tragic Stephen Estcourt QC: supermodel, raconteur, patron of the arts, damn fine cook and food blogger extraordinaire.
His Reminiscences of a Food Tragic is just the thing if you want to start feeling really, really hungry. With any luck this will earn us another invite over for lunch, I’m suddenly feeling a bit peckish.
Yes, we’re probably all buggered
The Australian 19/10/09
The future of journalism is a bit like climate change. Nobody’s quite sure exactly what’s going to happen, or when, but it’s probably not going to be good. We all know things have to change but we also know that nobody’s really going to do anything until they really really have to, which will in all likelihood be either too late or a lot more unpleasant than it really needed to be. Bugger.
Well, I do hope the wishful thinkers are right and everything’s going to be just ticketyboo, because after finally managing to get one of the relatively comfy chairs on the big stinky diesel-powered mainstream media bus, the engine’s started making funny noises and everyone’s muttering about buying a Prius. Bugger.
I went to the MEAA’s Future Of Journalism conference last week where my suspicion that Nobody Knows Anything was reconfirmed. Bugger.
On the bright side, Mark Scott from the ABC reckons he’s cracked the code for making a quid on the interwebs, which is to make everything free and get the ATO to sort it out. Well he would say that, wouldn’t he? Bugger.
While I totally agree that the news should be free, I feel the same way about mortgages, food and electricity, but I don’t think the banks, supermarkets or power company agree (bugger bugger bugger) and unless there’s a bit of quality control, the future of journalism is going to be a lot of people swearing at each other for nix, totally stuffing the market for cartoonists, who get paid to be rude. Bugger
Go to the back of the queue
The Australian 14/10/09
It was quite nostalgic dragging out the old Phil Ruddock cadaver, I mean caricature yesterday. Sadly for Phil, the days of mass hysteria over boat people are, like inarticulate US presidents, gone. Let’s hope so, anyway.
bums on seats
The Weekend Australian Review 10/10/09
Having dabbled ever so slightly in the theatre, I came to the conclusion that the play might well be the thing, but an audience doesn’t hurt either. There’s probably a convoluted joke in there about a play in the forest and one hand clapping, but it’s a bit early in the day for Zen and I can’t really be arsed. Anyway, I put this one up for Brian, who asked nicely. Always good to get a Stanislavsky reference into a cartoon. Makes me look cultured.