hate the player, not the game

Ever since I started this blog,

This is the image of Soundwave I'm cutting the stencil from. I OWN YOU!

my internal narrative has alternated between the tone of a lifestyle guide and a Choose Your Own Adventure book. I was walking up Lonsdale St in the city and found myself narrating the events around me in the third person, a bit like this:

"Lumpen had his feet on the tram tracks as he walked over Elizabeth Street and felt the ground tremble under the wake of the number five tram to Melbourne University. He was hours late for Work for the Dole, but his mind was on the stencil of Soundwave from 'The Transformers' he had started to cut last night.

Last night he dreamt that he had taken a shotgun into a courtroom and tried to blow up the Hungry Jacks up Bourke Street with a bazooka. Toward the end of his dream, he climbed a statue and waited to be caught be the police. There he talked to an old friend and she said she was doing well. The dream left him wondering how Bridget really was."

You get the picture. Actually, that passage was disturbingly accurate. In that spirit, tomorrow I'll present a guide to music for lumpens, covering gangster rappers (aka 'gangsta rappas') and heavy metal (aka 'bouffant rock', aka 'cock rock', aka 'hair metal').