Wednesday, November 04, 2009


When will the Penny drop?

On the road to Copenhagen will the minister fall out of her limo?

and get wise to the blindingly obvious

and on her white bicycle towards a sustainable future?

If only she could

be more than a suit among suits

snoring by the trough of business as usual

and rise to

ring the changes

to align our standard of living

with the wisdom of the first Australians and Buddha and Christ

and that skinny spinning bespectacled lawyer Gandhi Ji

who the great politician Churchill saw as barely human.

If only she would stop

being clever and savvy and smart

and be a fool for Gaia.

Sunday, May 17, 2009


Good time girls of Priapus and Papa Bacchus,

Spunky enforcers of nocturnal frolics,

Venerable rooters with bottomless bollocks,

The cream of deflowerers, crack hornmakers,

And you hot bitches with quims unquenchable

Who can spin porkswords into spoof shards,

Cuntess von Schluttz, genital blowhards,

Low-life impalers of the Crural Unmentionable,

Come you all to the whorehouse of horny Muses:

Any wit who in juicy discourse rejoices

No doubt will come, upon hearing these verses.

With no fear of flames shall this book flourish:

A place of pleasure where the body refreshes,

Suffered gladly by souls that pleasure will nourish.

A sonnet extracted from Bordel des Muses ou les 9 Pucelles Putains, a collection of libertine 

verse by Claude le Petit a 24 year old lawyer who, on 1st September1662 at the Place de Greve 

in Paris, having had his hand cut off, was strangled and burnt for having dared to try and publish them.
The Counter Reformation was under way: “This punishment will curb the unbridled licence of the impious and the temerity of publishers”.
A single copy (from a Dutch edition) got to the (French) National Library, all French copies having been destroyed.
This Dutch reprint was stolen in 1850.
Fortunately copies had been made of it and in 1918 two hundred copies were printed.
Courtisans de Priape et du Père Bacchus,

Vigoureux officiers de nocturnes patrouilles,

Vénérables fouteurs d'inépuisable couilles,

Experts dépuceleurs, artisans de cocus.

Et vous garces à chienne, croupions invaincus,

Quoi de nos braquemarts vous faites des quenouilles,

Dame du Putanisme, agréables gargouilles,

Vous, lâches empaleurs et chaussonneurs de crus.

Venez tous au bordel de ces Muses lubriques :

L'esprit qui prend plaisir au discours satyriques

Déchargera sans doute, entendant ces accords.

Ce livre fleurira sans redouter les flammes.

On souffle icy des lieux pour le plaisir des corps,

On en souffrira bien pour le plaisir des âmes.


(extrait "Bordel des Muses ou les 9 Pucelles Putains)

Jeune avocat de 24 ans, Claude Le Petit, étranglé au poteau, fut brûlé en place de grève le 1er Septembre 1662 après avoir eu le poing coupé.

Il avait osé commencer à faire imprimer, Le Bordel des Muses ou les Neuf Pucelles Putains, recueil des poésies Libertines.

Mais la "renaissance" catholique était en marche : "Cette punition contiendra la licence effrénée des impies et la témérité des imprimeurs".

Seul un exemplaire parvint (édition hollandaise) à la Bibliothèque Nationale car toutes les impressions françaises furent détruites.

Cette réimpression hollandaise fut volé en 1850.

Heureusement, on en avait pris des copies et il fut imprimé en 1918 deux cents exemplaires.

Monday, February 23, 2009

The Trial and Last Judgment of John Winston Howard

The script as performed at the Melbourne Town Hall on August 5th 2007 can be found here.

Sunday, May 13, 2007

The Trial & Last Judgment of John Winston Howard

Shall be enacted in the Melbourne Town Hall at 4pm on Sunday the 5th day of August 2007.
The soul of the said John Winston Howard now inhabiting Max Gillies, miserable sinner, being charged with: Gross Violations of Commandments 5 and 8 Inhumanity and Perfidy, Equivocation and Mendacity, Uriah Heapish Pious Fraud, Hornswaggling Hypocrisy, Tergiversating Duplicity, Tarradiddling Trickery, Humbug Guile and Sham, shall be brought before the Supreme Bean, Linda Briskman for trial.
  • The Blessed Julian Burnside to appear for the Prosecution
  • The Late Phillip Adams as his first witness
  • The Heavenly Melanie La Brooy as his second
  • The sybilline Sue Ingleton as Devil’s Advocate
  • HM Queen incarnate as jubilating Gerry Connolly as the first defence witness
  • George W Bush, 2-dimensional with left foot operating mouth, as the second
  • Saint Rod the Quantocrator officiating as the Tipstaff.
  • SS Paul Keating and Android Blot in the choir and Alan Jones as Yappy the Parrot
  • With assorted Video Recording Angels, Celestial Secret Policemen, Paradise Bouncers,
  • Righteous Demonstrators (To Hell With Howard, Burn Johnnie Burn, Prince of Lies, etc)
  • Agents Provocateurs and an Organist in attendance.

  • Underpinned by Technical Angels viz:
  • Holy Writ Management: Tim Robertson, Guy Rundle, Jonathon McNaughten, Graham Pitts
  • Firmament Construction: Adrian Cherubin
  • Opus Dei: Tim Robertson
  • Supernatural Stage Management: Desiree Lane
  • Vision: Image Control (Keith & Peter Webb)
  • Vox (Radio mics) Cameron Parker (Inside Out Productions)
  • Propaganda: Rob and Maggie Gerrand
  • Props (halos, horns, clouds masks, placards etc): Trish Broom
  • Heavenly Raiment: (tba)Rose Chong(?)
  • Mammon/Lucre/Divine Afflatus: Max Dumais, John Timlin.

A Multitude of 2000 souls ascends the Town Hall steps. Rolf Harris sings “A Stairway to Heaven” over P/A Cardboard clouds adorn the entrance to the foyer.

In the foyer Louis Armstrong sings “O When the Saints” Hip-hoppers rap for the assassination of JWH. Suppressed.

Saint Rod appears winged haloed (maybe a hubcap) radio-microphoned. Perhaps he sound checks his mic in latin: Unus. Duo. Tres. Pax vobiscum. G-L-O-R-I-A Vanitas, vanitas Venite adoremus. Habeas corpus. Hosannah in excelsis. Ad infinitum. Et cetera.
Perhaps he holds a Holy Rood on which is mounted the Rubbery Fowl of Justice.

He knocks on, unlocks & opens Heaven’s Door unto the auditorium. He ushers the Multitude to their seats. Advises of by-law prohibiting harping & busking generally. Perhaps he projects Michelangelo’s Last Judgment as a seating plan. Perhaps he separates sheep from goats. Directs sheep upstairs. Goats into the stalls. Confides that goats have more fun.. Avers that God is on her mysterious way…

The Multitude seats itself.

FX: Sheep, Goats, Gnashing, Wailing, “O When the Saints” played on the organ. The stage with add-on rostra thrusts into the space with swivel chairs, tables set for Counsels and Defendant, a witness box and dock embellished in a rococo manner, all with microphones. Above, perhaps suspended from the organ loft, a projection screen.

Saint Rod ushers in Counsel for the Defence (black-gowned, wigged, horned with flourishing tail), Counsel for the Prosecution in white and the Defendant perhaps shrouded in monk’s cow

Organ, all stops out, plays “Dies Irae” Enter to the organ loft Her Honour God, very big hair, swathed in pink, with mic. Organ plays 12 bars of the Alleluia Chorus. Stops abruptly.

Saint Rod: All rise!

The Defendant is called to the stand and reveals himself. Saint Rod reads the charges (see above). They are projected on the screen.

God asks the Defendant how he pleads. The defendant equivocates.

God calls the Blessed Julian Burnside to put the case for the Prosecution.

Prosecution delivers a summary statement of Howard’s sins (approx 10mins, to be written by JB, perhaps illuminated by projections)

Prosecution calls 1st witness the late Phillip Adams, atheist. St Rod produces him.

Further difficulties with swearing-in. Objections from God.

Prosecution leads Adams to establish Howard’s subversion of Faith Hope and Charity in the nation, his negation of Peace and Goodwill throughout the world. (approx 5mins)

Defence cross-examines (brief impro).

Prosecution calls the heavenly Melanie Brooys. St Rod obliges.

Defence questions the bona fides of a known purveyor of fiction. Over-ruled. God citing
the precedent of his own book.

Prosecution leads Brooys on Howard’s debasement of language and social and political institutions (approx 5mins)

Defence cross-examines in a low, insinuating, discreditable manner.

FX: Fortissimo diapason from organ.

God reproves the Defence. She calls for the accused to take the stand.

Howard is perhaps preoccupied with a mobile phone call. He moves to the box.

Howard: Er Mr Speaker er beg pardon humbly humbly, Prime Mover, your petitioner humbly prays er - that was Jeanette, by the by, she says she spoke to you this morning…

Howard delivers an Apologia Pro Sua Vita undermined by projected images (approx 10mins to be written by His Eminence Guy Rundle)

He is examined by Defence Counsel.

He is Cross-examined by the Prosecution

Howard stands down

Defence calls 2 witnesses: HM Queen and Bush. (Compromising testimonies- 3-5mins – also to be written by His Eminence if he so consent).

Cross examination follows, improvised cut and thrust, if the Prosecution is game.

The Heavenly Court becomes disorderly.

Interjections from the Multitude, led on by Righteous Demonstrators and Agents

Provocateurs: Warmongers! Fools! Knaves! Liars! Satan’s Spawn! etc

Struggles with the Bouncers of Paradise and St Rod brandishing the Rubbery Fowl of Justice.

God: Order! Order! Where’s Thor’s hammer when you need it? Play it again Samuel!

Thunderous torrents of organ

God: Now a bit of shoosh creatures or its outer darkness for the lot of you.

She sums up. Proposes to smite Howard and his cohorts.

She clicks her fingers and the first Chorus of Ian Dury & the Blockheads “Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick” plays ff. Multitude claps in time The Court boogies.

God adjourns Howard’s doom until election day.

Organ plays “Dies Irae”

Saturday, August 05, 2006

matilda jalloul

Tim Baba rises in his trad glad rags - beige djiba and a toque too big for him.

He attempts to play the Mendelsohn wedding march on alto recorder to claim attention.

He announces:

Tim Baba veut dire quelques mots bien-choisis.

Salem les familles Robertson et Jalloul qui sont liees de cette heureuse journee a jamais


Salut Aziza, Bilgessum, Ahalem, Fatma Sofiem, Shokri, Slim, Mose, Anwar...

Et, surtout Aslemma M et Mme Anis et Mathilde Jalloul!

Monsieurs'dames - et les gosses et tous les voisins et tous les copains et bons compagnons je suis
ravi et tres honores d'etre ici a cette grande fete chez Jalloul a Ettabek.

Dans ce temps grave des assassins et massacre ici c'est un petit coin du bonheur.

Voila Mathilde, ma belle fille qui est venue a Carthage des Antipodes. Et qui est-ce qu'elle

a rencontre ici, cette reine de mon coeur? Voila: un beau prince qui s'appelle Anis.

C'est comme la vielle histoire de Dido et Aeneas a l'envers n;est-ce pas?. Mais nous esperons

que ca finisse dans les circonstances plus favorables. Que les dieux qui les opposent - la

bureaucratie idiote, la tyrannie des clercs soient vaincus; que notre Anis/Aeneas et

Mathilde/Dido feront un bon voyage a l'Australie et aussi des bons voyages de retour avec

une bonne equipe des beaux enfants, Imshallah.

Maintenant il faut qhe je lise les fax nuptials selon la tradition australienne ancienne -

(From Robin & Susan & Floss & Charmayne & Billie & Finn)

Et moimeme je souhaite qu'apres tout ce theatre passione d'amour et de fete que votre vie de

chaque jour ensemble soit plein d'amitie, de tolerance, de perseverance, de bonne fortune, et

sans cigaros.

Mahbrouk Imshallah dima ferhina!

Friday, June 23, 2006



for Judas


In front of a projection of a massive baroque altar 12 faithful worshippers enter in an orderly fashion to offer up their sheep, goats, pets, wives & children for sacrifice.

High priests in business suits slaughter them & ritually sodomise eachother.

A glass harmonium plays Gnostic musak

A luminous cloud descends in red checkered trousers, laughing delirious divine laughter:

A ~ O, A ~ O, A ~ O, A ~ O, A ~ O!


In saeculo saeculorumorumorumorum… stop it you’re killing me!

The altar orgy transforms into a pious offering of thanksgiving over loaves of bread.

Jesus emerges laughing from the cloud.

Thanksgivers (in Latin): Master, why are you laughing at our humblemumble of thanksgiving?

We have done what it is right to do

Jesus (in Latin): I do not laugh at you.

I laugh at your praise

I laugh at your god.

Thanksgivers (Latin) Master, are you not the son of our god?

Jesus (Latin): Fools, how do you know me?

You pray strange prayers to a stranger god.

I am the Sethian spark

Unbegotten son of the Celestial Mother

The self-generated One

The Jism at the Jump

cue Benny Goodman’s Jumping at the Savoy . The faithful jitterbug. Jesus ascends a little above them.

Judas in red fright wig approaches him.

Judas: I know who you are and where you come from.

Jesus: Judas the Judaean, our trusty treasurer – pray tell, who?

Judas: You are from the immortal realm of Barbelo. You are sent by one whose
name I am not worthy to speak…

Jesus: Step away from the others.

Judas: I am not worthy…

Jesus: Judas, I shall tell you the mysteries of the Kingdom.

For you are the key.

The Barbelo Chorus (glass harmonium, bassoon, theremin & jews harp - for Judas)

Beyond Jahweh is Barbelo

Lift up your eyes

Behold a luminous cloud

Look at the light within it

And the stars surrounding it

And your star that leads the way

Beyond the shit and corruption

Creation of a malevolent demiurge

To the blessed realm

Barbelo! Barbelo! Barbelo!

Jesus: Judas I needs must sacrifice the man that clothes me.

So you must do what must be done.

Judas: Master I saw myself in a vision

Your 12 disciples were stoning me.

Jesus: You will become the 13th

Cursed by the generations

You will come to a field of blood

And you will rule over them.

Now do it quickly.

Judas: Let there be heaven though my place is in hell.

Jesus laughs the way he does. Judas kisses him on the mouth. US SWAT team enters screaming the way they do.

SWAT: Drop ‘em! Spread ‘em! Gay-assed muthafuckers!..etc

What are you doing here? You are a disciple of Jesus?

Judas: I am. This is he.

The SWAT team sound off 30 pieces of silver. They beat & hood Jesus then carry him off, cruciform.

Judas sings:

When I hang from a tree

No way up for me

I fall flyblown

In a potters field

Green guts spilled

In terracotta clay

On a summers day.

Enter a Realtor.

Realtor: This here’s one hell of a piece of real estate.

Sweetest home sweet home bloodmoney can buy

And the cheapest

The owner’s a potter he has to sell

His right hand lost its cunning

The left was cut off for theft

Akeldama, they call it means

Field of Blood

But you can change that –

Gehenna? Haked-damm?


South face of the Hinnom

Position, position, position.

Judas swings on a rope next to the luminous trousered cloud.

Judas: I gave the money to the priests

They bought it

For a burial plot for strangers

I repent and confess my sins

In the presence of Christ.

Large projected superimposed images of the crux ansata, the ankh and a wandjina figure