-----Original Message-----
From: [log in to unmask] <[log in to unmask]>
To: [log in to unmask] <[log in to unmask]>
Date: Sunday, October 01, 2000 10:17
Subject: Re: Sydney Zoooo
.
>I was wondering what an international audience would make of the whole
>thing.
>
>Best
>
>Alison
'International' is such a wobbly word.. I know much more about contemporary
Oz and
America than I do of Athens but historical ties and language make this
inevitable.
So no culture-shocks...not as in-your-face as America...not as bloody
incompetent
as Britain...
Anyway I was desperately disappointed that Nick Cave didn't appear in
a pink suit (pink of course being the new black) singing Trash Can. You lot
just don't
appreciate your own talent!
But the real question was why is some tack so cringingly awful (the giant
ballroom
dancing dolls- yuk -I just wanted their heads to explode)
and some tack so delightfully amusing (the big boys and girls in their
knitted
full-length swimsuits smiling and pointing meaningfully at god knows what -
probably at each others cute bottoms). As for Bananas in Pyjamas! Well,
I'm still speechless. Did I dream that bit? It was a bit early Sunday
morning
for me.
But tack is like bad and bad poetry. Why is some bad poetry good/bad and
some just plain bad/bad? Is it just a matter of where you place the
commas.
I'm always ambivalent to events like this. I like the spectacle but
ultimately
couldn't give a hoot if A can run faster than B. Most people can run faster
than me so I'm not taken aback with gasping revelation. And yet billions
of pounds (dollars, do-dahs) are poured into this on a world wide. Why?
The fire works were brilliant but ...oops...there goes a whole town of
houses with running water...literally up in smoke albeit gobsmacking
gorgeous
smoke.. in ten minutes...and all because A ran quicker than B. It's bloody
barmy. It's all about bottoms and gold chains glistening in the sun. And
it
rains as much in Australia as it does in England! And now its over thank
god I don't have to sing God Save Queenie again, well not for another four
years.
Rambling. Sorry. Ignore most of this.
Peep peep,
G.
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