Tag Archives: New Zealand

The Ashes On Ice – Cricket Doesn’t Get Hotter™

So the “leadership group” (I use that term advisedly) of the Australian cricket team has sanctioned premeditated ball-tampering… cheating.

An early prototype of The Ashes On Ice™

Cricket Australia needs an urgent fix. Something to restore the faith of the Australian and global cricket fraternity.

Fear not. I’ve been rummaging around the team kit bag and next to the stained and battered protector, I discovered something that may just save Australian cricket: The Ashes On Ice.

This concept is an absolute jaffa* as Shane Warne says during British TV cricket commentary when he’s pretending to be English. *A jaffa in Australia has a different, orange / chocolatey meaning.

The Ashes On Ice. Just let that sink in.

Imagine the crowd chanting “LILLEE LILLEE” as Dennis Lillee circa 1975 slides to the top of his mark… turns, and comes steaming in from the Nursery End. Gold necklace bouncing…
moustache bristling… ice shredding… that look of unbridled fire towards W.G. Grace who is stoically anticipating a bouncer aimed at his throat. Oh, I didn’t mention the animatronics?

Think about it. Imagine seeing the long-departed Our Don Bradman, Fiery Fred Trueman,
Keith Miller, Richie Benaud and other legends of the game get off the ice and promptly back on it?

I already have boffins working in the shed on the technology where Jeff Thomson would try and knock over Sir Leonard Hutton, Beefy Botham at his prime sledging Victor Trumper who promptly hits him into his own stand at the SCG. Ian Chappell dancing down the pitch to Alec Bedser.
Tony Greig sticking his keys into the ice. The possibilities are endless.

Why ice? Why not.

We can recreate the infamous Bodyline series with those arch-villains Larwood, Jardine and Voce taking on the courageous Aussies.

It doesn’t have to stop at Australia v the old enemy. Imagine the unbeatable West Indies,
with the great Viv Richards just chilling out on the ice. Viv never wore a helmet when he batted,
he wouldn’t need ice skates.

The greats of India, South Africa, Pakistan and New Zealand… all battling it out.
Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want to relive the infamous underarm bowling incident… on ice?
Then there are the streakers…

“Yes, hello… is that Cricket Australia…?”

©Steve Williams 2018

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Not the very worst of election advertising #274

If you live in Australia, you would know there is a federal election on Saturday. If you don’t, you’re a moron and don’t deserve to exercise your democratic right, or left.

One of my favourite bits about the election is the advertising blackout on all electronic media, when the good people of the wide-brown land are finally spared the onslaught of moving images of earnest politicians begging for your vote, while simultaneously dumping a bucket of shit on their opponent/s.

In celebration of, or to mourn the advertising blackout (depending on your masochism pain threshold), here is a clichéd veritable smörgåsbord of random election commercials.

If only all election ads were as good as this one…

I don’t recall Kevin or Tony offering to make me angel hair pasta.

At least they haven’t attempted comedy — I’m still trying to decide if this one is…

Even the #huckchuckfacts hashtag is lame.

Never mind, here’s a patriotic, stirring number from Ukraine…

I like the old baba having a sneaky shot of rocket fuel. You would need it to be an extra in a political commercial.

Speaking of costumes…

A collective noun of “isms” there.

How about special effects?

I realise this was for a school board election, but it’s brilliant. I hope Christopher didn’t have his arse sued off by George Lucas.

The special effects budget for this next one was about $1.26.

Demon sheep! Run! Run for your lives!

Ok, sheep aren’t overtly sexual *insert hackneyed New Zealand line here* but Herman gushes sex appeal…

I hope that’s real. Vladimir has gone the sexy root route as well…

You would vote early and often. Though the piece of resistance is from the Australian Sex Party. Yep, we’re all f*cked…

words ©Steve Williams 2013

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Going (Slightly) Gaga

So I became an honorary “Little Monster” for a few hours last night. Lady Gaga brought The Born This Way Ball to Singapore and without going into what is apparently called “paws up” mode (ask a hardcore Gaga fan, they’ll tell you), I have to say it was a brilliant show. This was one of the very early stops of the massive world tour before she heads to New Zealand, then Australia and the rest of the cosmos.

*This may not be an actual part of Gaga’s meat lounge

Love her or hate her, whether you think she’s some weird meat-dress wearing psycho Madonna wannabe who seems to constantly forget her bra, or the much revered “Mother Monster”, you have to admire her talent. Seriously.

Without getting into major spoiler territory, expect to see a unicorn, an elaborate medieval castle set that opens and closes revealing numerous scenes and characters kind of like Gothic Barbie on acid, a meat lounge, a Gaga / Max Headroom lovechild, a rather unique way of riding a motorbike, spectacular costumes (loved the manic bee-keeper outfit) with a mesmerising number of über-quick changes, exceptional choreography from Gaga and her sickeningly buff and talented troupe of dancers, an interesting flavour of sausages emerging from a meat grinder, a machine gun bra and… more. That is possibly selling the rather involved storyline a fraction short, but personally, I was there for the music, not so much the theatrics, but Gaga delivered that and then some.

Expect to hear an extremely tight band, personable, actually rather heartfelt dialogue from Gaga (you might think I’ve been drinking the Kool-Aid, but I can’t really see an issue with her messages of love, tolerance, unity, support for gay rights, anti-bullying etc) plus the occasional f-word, and the random religious-esque reference.

Then there’s that voice… her power and range is quite incredible, all while riding a unicorn, a motorbike, scaling the battlements of her castle, performing outrageously intricate and I-desperately-need-to-lie-down inducing dance moves — all a total lip-synching free zone — in her chats between songs she is literally trying to catch her breath. Speaking of songs, all her hits are there — Born This Way, Poker Face, Paparazzi, Judas, Hair, You and I, Edge of Glory, Marry The Night, Bad Romance, Alejandro (I’ve probably left out a couple) and all faithful to the originals — no bullshit Gregorian chant meets John Williamson weird-arse reworking because “I’m an artiste” here.

If you get a chance, buy a ticket to the Ball. You don’t see or hear talent like this every day (or a unicorn or meat lounge).

©Steve Williams 2012

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