newtown

Here are the web links I’ve found for 06 May 2008, posted automatically.

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Too long since I posted a photo. I thought of taking a quick snap of the street but after 12 days of rain King Street looks bleak. Instead, here’s the glorious sunset scene from 26 March. Enjoy.

This happy little chap was found on a lamppost near ’Pong’s favourite tunnel under the railway in Newtown, Sydney. There are others in the vicinity, and I may seek them out for your enjoyment.

’Pong and I are having dinner at Kelly’s on King, and voilá, there are musicians at our table. It almost makes up for the free Wi-Fi running out at 7pm and having to roll our our Internet connectivity via my phone (which also took the picture).

Maybe those annoying socialists on King Street will finally achieve something with their endless petition-signing. Chairman Rudd will require parliament to formally consider and report on all petitions.

More than a million Australians signed 900+ petitions during Howard’s final three-year term. A grand total of 2 were responded to in some way. The other 99.8% were tabled and ignored.

My local MP Anthony Albanese, the “manager of government business” in parliament, says petitions won’t need to be sponsored by an MP any more. He reckons citizens have a basic right to petition parliament. And they’ll look into electronic petitions too.

That, and Julia Gillard’s announcement that NGOs receiving government funds would no longer be prevented from making political statements, are clear sings that maybe Kevin Rudd actually means what he says about strengthening the parliamentary system.

Yesterday’s experimental lunch at Kelly’s on King, the Irish theme pub at 285 King Street, Newtown, was a success.

Previously, Kelly’s got their food from Cafe C next door. Recent renovations added their own kitchen, so I figured it was worth a try.

“I’d better start thinking like a backpacker then,” snarked the Snarky Platypus. And yes, like most pretend-Irish pubs, late at night Kelly’s is full of loud, drunken arseholes. Avoid. But during the day it’s quiet, perfect for a cleansing ale and watching the world. A newspaper and conversation pub, if you like.

We had a perfectly adequate chicken penne (pictured) and a “Portuguese” chicken with rocket, sun-dried tomatoes and a few well-made potato wedges — the latter a not-too-fattening serving size. Great presentation.

The wine list is minimal — only four whites, for example. An Irish pub is about beer and whiskey. However with two decent sauvignon blancs that’s acceptable.

The Platypus and I have added Kelly’s on King to our regular rotation.

Overheard at a King Street, Newtown pub this afternoon:

Chap #1: So how rat-arsed should we get tonight?

Chap #2: I reckon about 10 drinks now, then 5 pills, and then cocktails after that.

Chap #1: Excellent. I’ll be a memory gap to remember!

I don’t think I could match that stamina.

Stencil art spotted in Mary Street, Newtown, on Sunday afternoon. Gotta love anyone who can use the word dirigible. See more stencil art.

The food is laid out, ready to eat, but everyone’s waiting for someone else to make the first move.

This photo was taken at the close of the Marrickville Contemporary Art Prize exhibition on Sunday. Eventually the woman in the blue top sliced into the cheese — and suddenly the spell was broken!

’Pong tells me that in Thai, the very last piece on a plate is called “the polite piece” — the piece everyone is too polite to take.

“Just how many people can you pack into one tiny art gallery,” I wondered as I squeezed through At The Vanishing Point’s winding displays to find a drink.

The launch of the inaugural Marrickville Contemporary Art Prize was an upbeat but slightly chaotic affair last night, with 61 works packed into a narrow gallery space and probably every contemporary artist in the village jammed into a narrow corridor trying to reach the dodgy chardonnay and too-few spring rolls being served in the back yard.

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’Pong’s photograph Red Sofa (left) has been shortlisted for the Marrickville Contemporary Art Prize 2007.

The Award Presentation and Launch is tonight at At The Vanishing Point gallery, 565 King Street, Newtown from 6pm to 9pm.

However the exhibition is spread across two galleries, with the rest the works on display at the Don’t Look Experimental Art Gallery, 419 New Canterbury Road, Dulwich Hill. That half is launched tomorrow night from 6pm.

Sadly ’Pong won’t be able to make the award presentation tonight, though I’ll try to be there. However we’ll both be at tomorrow’s launch in Dulwich Hill. Join us?

The exhibition runs at both galleries until 23 September.

Last night this curious little coven of witch’s hats caught my eye.

This photo was taken on Enmore Road, Newtown in Sydney — as usual with my trusty Nokia N80 pimple-cam.

Some time — when I get the time! — I’ll set up the workflow so I can post this sort of thing directly from the phone.

The N80, like the rest of the Nseries, actually has single-timeline video editing software built in, which means I should be able to make video podcasts directly from the phone.

I know it’s “easy”, but it’s still one more thing to do…

Politics has dominated my writing these last few weeks — understandable given the Mohammed Haneef saga and the simple fact that it’s an election year. Last month wasn’t quite so politics-heavy. And a year before that things were much more personal — though I didn’t have time to write much.

But I’m sure the political threads will continue a while, because I’ve just started reading John Winston Howard by Wayne Errington and Peter van Onselen.

Three immediate observations:

• JWH and I share a Methodist background and strict parents — how did we turn out so different?
• After just one chapter, I’ve already gained a richer view of the man. I still don’t know that I like him, but I can see now why the late Janine Haines slapped me for being overly-critical. Perhaps linking to Anthony Albanese’s vitriolic anti-Howard rant from 9 years ago was a bit tough. (Then again, maybe not.)
• Reading a book about JWH in Sydney’s inner west means that people give you funny looks. As I explained to one of them, though, “Hey, if I were reading a book about oncology, it wouldn’t mean I wanted to get lung cancer.”

I’ll write a proper review in due course — though I do like the irony of JWH’s childhood home now being a KFC outlet.