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"The saints sit up in heaven twiddling their thumbs because so few people pray to them any more." - St Madeleine Sophie Barat

Potter in a Harry - April 2009

Now that was funny


There are filmmakers, and there are people who make films who don’t deserve the title filmmakers. They’re like Christians. ‘In name only.’ Yes, you did make a film. I guess that entitles you to be called a filmmaker. But a shit one.


The Cohen Bros are filmmakers. Jews. Displaced Jews not worrying about the restoration of Israel or the Diaspora. Just making shitloads of money out of filmmaking. By seriously being funny. It’s what they do best. Funded by Jewish bankers but not into conspiracy theories. They know conspiracy theories are real. They’re rich.

I didn’t particularly like Burn After Reading the first time I watched it. But that wasn’t the film’s fault. I’m a moody bitch. I wasn’t in the right mood. Maybe I’d been on Orble that day? I was on the male rags again.

But anyway, I re-watched it. A few times. It just gets better on each watch.

And the bonus features on the DVD were great too. Seeing, listening to the Cohens talk about the film. And their dry soh. They never laugh when they tell a joke. I like that sort of deadpan approach to humour. No LOLs after something funny. They respect their audience.

Casting Brad Pitt as a complete dork, at least gave him something to do acting-wise. He hasn’t been extended much as an actor since Kalifornia. (If you don’t believe Brad Pitt can act? Watch Kalifornia). Pitt’s a bit like De Niro. He just has to play the same role over and over again and watch the bank balance rise. Because apart from the Cohens? Who is writing great scripts where actors have to act outside of typecasting? You have to watch the scenes with Brad Pitt in them to fully appreciate his acting skills. When he gets into the car with ‘Os-borne Cox?’ ??? I mean just the expression on his face when he gets in, reveals how good an actor he is. I’m envious of the guy. Not his acting skills. His bank balance. I’m not envious of his missus. Jolly Angela reminds me too much of my ex. Plus she wants to adopt the entire third world so that people think she’s charitable. I reckon she’d be a complete bitch in real life. She believes too much in the power of the fanny. It’s her faith. Interdenominational I think. Ecumenical, even. She appeals to the modern woman.


And George Clooney really gives Brad Pitt a run for his money as to which attractive man can act the stupidest. That was the one thing I most enjoyed about the film. Two guys that most women on the planet would love to fuck, making complete idiots of themselves. Only to find women still like them cos they're rich.

The Cohens decided to write Burn After Reading with specific actors in mind. Actors they hadn’t worked with before, principally. With a few oldies thrown in for good measure. Well they have to include Franny McDoormat. One of them lives with her. John Malkovich was another actor they hadn’t worked with, and his performance is brilliant. He’s as drunk and angry as an Orbler not on his meds. Well he’s worse than most of the Orble women who refuse to take their meds and would rather rant on Orble. Watch out for the scene of him in his undies. It’s a progressional scene. The disintegration of a male character who is persecuted. (I type nude on Orble. It’s gone way beyond that).

The Cohens were talking about the film and how it was about how middle-aged people were really fucked up, and how they wanted to make a film like that. Then they came up with the idea of the CIA clashes with a gym. It’s like soul ugly meets body beautiful. But it’s not. Body beautiful often = soul ugly. So it’s a film about soul ugly meets soul ugly. Maybe one day someone will write a film about Orble? Burn Before Reading? But Orble aside, it’s a fantastic premise for a film. Film premises that are that simple are bound to be winners in the hands of these two freaks.

The Cohens are masters of dialogue. They never not have something (action) happening. But they are masters of dialogue. They are Tarantino for the thinking man.

There’s one very serious scene in the film. Where the two CIA operatives (boss and understudy) are discussing what’s happened (in the course of the film). With a very deadpan expression, the understudy goes, “It appears everyone is fucking everyone.”

If you like a film that makes you think? Watch it. If you don’t? Read Orble posts.
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Once a person accepts that Christ is God made man, then a lot more of Sacred Scripture makes sense.

When the Jews said to Christ, “You are not yet even 50 years old, and yet you claim to have seen Abraham?’

Christ replied, “Before Abraham was, I am.”

Now, the Jews picked up stones to stone Christ for blasphemy (for claiming to be God). For ‘I am’ is the term God used to describe himself:

God said to Moses: I am who am. He said: Thus you shall say to the children of Israel: He who is, has sent me to you. (Exodus)

Even “Christians” don’t believe Christ was God-made-man. They only view Him as the Son of God. As one among many. As a man speaking on behalf of God, not God Himself clothed in human flesh. (Yes it’s a mystery of faith. It’s not about nutting it out. It’s about accepting it. That’s where modern people go horribly askew. They try to rationalise faith, whereas it would cease to be faith if you could rationalise it. There is no longer a need to have faith in something once it has been proven. You can believe it to be true but in terms of religious faith, it would cease. As it will in heaven. Along with hope. For once you possess the object of your desires/hopes you no longer need hope. As St Paul said, only charity will remain. For God is charity).

St John makes it blatantly clear in the beginning of his Gospel that Christ was God made man. “In the beginning … the word was God … and the word was made flesh and dwelt amongst us.”

All of the Old Testament prefigured Christ. It has its fulfilment in Him. That’s what He meant by saying He came to fulfil the law. He was the embodiment of the law. He was God’s word; the walking, talking word of God in the flesh.

And that’s why He could say, “Which one of you can accuse me of sin?” Whereas all men born of flesh are born into sin. But Christ was free of sin. He was the immaculate lamb of God. God cannot sin. So many clues as to Christ’s divine nature. I don’t know what people read when they read Sacred Scripture. Maybe they approach it not to learn anything but to just use it for ulterior purposes. To prove God wrong? It will never happen.

To view Christ as just another man makes Sacred Scripture a pretty dry read. And makes a Christian a pretty dumb Christian.
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A brief history of Sri Lanka

April 16th 2009 22:21
Back when Sri Lanka was Ceylon at least I knew where mum's cups of tea were coming from.

And it's much easier to say Ceylon than Sri Lanka. I always feel like I've got a speech impediment. Or there's a juicy cumquat in my mouth making me dribble a lot as I speak.

The Sri Lankan cricket side changed the face of one-day-international cricket by scoring quickly in the first fifteen overs. The players have really hard names to pronounce and we need to hear Tony Greig pronounce them before we actually know how to say them. Phonetics help. Wick-Rammer-Singer. Sounds like a Sri-Lankan porn rapper. Get down. Get up again. Yo!

Murali is not a blow-fish. His eyes pop naturally. His arm is bent because it's not straight.

I was at Adelaide Oval the day that little fatty-pats of a captain took the side off the field. Adelaide Oval has a nice members bar with televisions, where you can watch the fighting in Sri Lanka in air-conditioned comfort, and talk about how tragic it is as you order another beer. You can even tell everyone you're an expert on Sri Lanka, and they'll believe you.

People die in Sri Lanka of other things than drink driving. They don't have drink driving ads because there's a few more important things going on.

The Phantom lives somewhere near Ceylon.
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Truth is hard as nails

April 16th 2009 05:39

truth is being an infant with visions of crucifixion in your mind
from day dot


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MATURE CONTENT
   


BD. Birth of Damo. (not Carravagio)


Shortly, the Justianian calendar will be altered to the Damo Calendar. Life as we know it on Orble will become BD & AD; Before Damo (BD) - After Damo (AD). Not to be confused with the Christian calendar where AD = After the Death of Christ. Or Anno Domini if you've studied history before Google came on the scene


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Women's groups, sick of all things male, have expressed their outrage at the findings of a new report on research into the amount of male breath in the atmosphere.

According to the report, because men never get a word in when women are speaking, they breathe very deeply in order to control their rage. Consequently, males release more breath into the atmosphere than women, regardless of how much hot air they produce during their rants


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I remember the night Vicky did mum's hair. Mum asked dad if he noticed anything different. Dad looked around the kitchen and couldn't see anything that had changed since he went to work that morning. I had a bit of a squiz myself. The walls were the same. The light globe was still in the same place.

This upset mum quite a bit. She didn't mention God much but she said, "For God's sake. I've had my hair coloured


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It's a long time since I've done an Ignatian retreat but I still remember most of what the retreat was about.

You can do two types of Ignatian retreats - a 7 day one or a 28 day one. These old-fashioned Latin Catholic retreats have one major rule. You don't talk to anyone for the entire period apart from your confessor. Oh, and God and Satan and your own conscience


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"The gimp mask was too tight," the husband of the husband said. "If I hadn't had a good old-fashioned bout of anal sex before the ceremony, my bowels would have loosened."

"At least the penis cake was still intact at the reception. Wait till you see the photos of us sucking it


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Let's take our glasses off
I want to see those eyes of yours

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Your Voice

April 7th 2009 05:08
Why did I become a poet?

When nothing I write can describe your voice


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My blog is bigger than yours.

April 7th 2009 04:38
Stuff me. Humans are so touchy.
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Why God gave us eyes.

April 6th 2009 21:52


V
icky used to come around and do mum’s hair in the kitchen. If you’re going to be a hairdresser in a country town, you’re usually born with a Bogan name. And you usually wear clothes out in public that anyone with a sense of class and style wouldn’t even be seen in at home. Some days I was surprised she didn’t wheel her haircutting tools into the house in a supermarket trolley


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Humans have lots of sayings that none of us know the origin of. You have to go to an etymologist. And even they can’t tell you half of the time


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How to Blog.

April 5th 2009 22:41
There's so little information around on how to blog, so I thought I would share my wealth of knowledge and experience with you.

Firstly, forget about making money from it. And forget about teaching others to blog, regardless of how appealing that is to your ego. Only other deluded souls will read what you have to say and comment on it. And in the end you'll end up with a mutual-appreciation society, backslapping blog. Buy a mirror and just study your own magnificence


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Boy people are stupid.

It doesn't matter what Michelle Obama wears. She still looks like a bean bag gone horribly out of shape dressed up in glitz and bling


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When the Poet can’t Save Himself

April 3rd 2009 17:59
Love blew into town
on the back of a hot breeze and
petrol fumes from an idling bus


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