And now a word from our sponsors
Look! Over there! A Wood Pixie!Luckily for all our legions of fans and readers, Brown Noise Unit was spared any financial harm from the recent stock market crash because our $8.95 in site revenue was invested in a pyramid scheme set up by the late Chris Skase on the Canary Islands. Readers can relax safe in the knowledge that the sudden disappearance of all our contributors is due to tax reasons, and not a lack of interest.
This site has managed to stay afloat thanks to the generous support of our valued sponsors whom you might see advertised in the google ad box just to your right. Many hundreds of tenths of cents have been generated alone from organisations like The University of Metaphysical Sciences who have chosen to advertise with us at this time.
I'd like to throw the entire weight of BNU's support behind wonderful educational institutions like The University of Metaphysical Sciences. The organisation offers a whole range of graduate courses, including Masters Degrees and PhDs. As part of the partnership that exists between our two organisations, BNU staff were all awarded honorary UMS doctrates which allow us to approach people, lay a calming hand on their shoulder and seed almost any conversation with friendly-italic-scripted observations like 'be the love you seek', 'life is conciousness in action', 'conciousness remains, even after illusion appears and disappears from whence it came' and 'the seeker is the sought'. All of which went down a treat when the ATO officer arrived for our audit meeting.
'Be still,' I said calmly to the man with the briefcase and intent expression as he slid a foot across the lintel and wedged it against the door. 'Stillness is the doorway for all that is in you. For compassion is the salve to all suffering.'
Directing him towards towards the lounge, I swished to the sideboard and twitching aside my robes, extracted a single gold key bearing the seal of UMS and unlocked the bureau drawer. I spread out a selection of brochures and leaflets written in friendly font and decorated with calming natural scenes upon the coffee table.
'Let me just explain something to you,' I said, smiling serenely. 'It's something I picked up in first year EM100 Energy of Money elective at the University. Money, my friend,' and I paused to collect my mantras, mundras and summon the clarity of thought from my inner child, 'is like a shaft of light. It exists in a moment. First it is born, it travels, and you know, dissipates. Dissipates, naturally, man, I don't know, to like the Cayman Islands or something. Did I mention I am a Doctor? Of Divinity?'
The ATO agent was snapping shut his notebook and making for the door before I even had a chance to explain that any metaphysical or percieved Earth currency I may or may not owe the government could easily be settled, with interest, by three o'clock tomorrow if I was allowed a chance to bring the ideas I nurtured in my CS205 major in Metaphysical Technologies, which would easily provide me the tools with which to Astral Travel (IS205) in a state of Lucid Dream (IS206), Attract Clients (CS204), Promote My Spiritual Business (CS206) without falling foul of the doctrine set forth in the course on Practioner Ethics, and use this temporal wealth to pass on joy and harmony to all, including the wonderful spirits at the tax office.
Clearly, the officer had missed the Relationships (CS102) lectures and had little or no concern about my Spiritual Wellbeing (IS103) and considerable difficulty Viewing my Aura (AS103), for he left without saying goodbye. Which, I might add, was in clear breach of the principles I learned in cherish in the months studying the text concerning Pain and Grief (IS 209).
Still, I only have to scrape together the remainder of the $1995 for my lectures, delivered as always in MP3 format from my spirit guides in California, and I will be a Qualified Practitioner and Doctor of Divinity myself. And I am fairly certain that that exludes me from taxes altogether. Now I just have to decide on the degree. Will it be Doctor of Divinity in Metaphysical Counselling? Philosopher of Wholistic Life Coaching? Or maybe Master of Divinity?
And until that time comes, perhaps we can interest you in UMS's free limited introductory offer. Allow me to press this leaflet explaining all the benefits of Higher Education Of Spiritual Unfoldment into your unwilling hand... you see, if I sign up three others I am entitled to 10 per cent off and three free... wait! Where are you going? Listen to your inner child on this, man!
Fuck.
pure gold Baron...
I still drop by now and then.
its hard to believe there are people who buy and believe that kind of shit. My home town of Mullumbimby was so full of these kind of cranks and weirdos there was an actual shortage of people who weren't involved in whack spiritual businesses themselves. If the yuppies from Sydney hadn't moved in back in the 80s and 90s, the whole place would have crashed.
What you guys been up to?
Hey dude ... just started a three week break away from the office, so you may see a bit more of me around here.
Looks like I may have also been press-ganged back in to the military - this time as an officer.
Sort of reminds me of the scene of Godfather III ... "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me right back in!"
Naturally, with all the perverts and deviants that prevail in here I will only be able to lurk incognito once I've taken the Queen's shilling ... but, that said, I still have to pass the psych test.
Are you in the press corps man or handling a gun?
I saw a video from some soldiers fighting in Afghanistan the other day. Looked like a fucked situation.
I hope you go okay with Dr Froid(?) anyway.
Do you have author status here mang? We can set you up if you wanna post articles. Sure as fuck no one else is at the moment...
PS did you see the love letter SGS got and his reply? Pretty funny. I think he was secretly stoked he got a letter from a female, even if she didn't look Russian at all!
Yeah Mang ... bit of both - way too old to be a grunt now, and they'd certainly be in trouble if they were dusting me off in that role. I'll tell you more about it offline due to ####### requirements.
Do have author status and might look at posting here after a week of sleep ins - it has been a long haul at the office of late and I just need a break from anything creative ... mmmm - come to think of it, that could fit in here very well!
Yes, saw the SGS love letter saga, although I would venture she would be far better off looking Russian that she would if she was Asian, and behind the wheeel of a car!
Yes, saw the SGS love letter saga, although I would venture she would be far better off looking Russian that she would if she was Asian, and behind the wheeel of a car!
Don't tell me Sam's a racist too?
Is okay with Samuel.
Sorry this is old news now but I just read that post over at SGS and listened to the audio of John Laws. It was the most disgusting stomach churning shit I have heard in a long while.
If I was allowed to comment there I would. I think Clayton pretty much sums Sam's logic up and I bet he was being fairly restrained towards some other commenters.
Anyway, here is Phillip Adams take and the likes of the ugly racism Laws and Zemanek spew[ed] forth over the airwaves. And it is little fucks like you Samuel that support such ugliness. I am really appalled by your support of John Laws.
Phillip Adams OPINION: Phillip Adams | September 01, 2007
"I DETESTED Sydney shock-jock Stan Zemanek. And he detested me. Very loudly and very often. When a comedian at Qantas assigned us side-by-side seats we spent the entire journey in simmering silence. And a few days before his death in July, when we found ourselves at adjacent tables in a café, we ignored each other with the same frenzied intensity.
Yet our relationship had got off to such a good start – with a degree of violence. Driving across the Harbour Bridge to 2UE one night I was first shocked, then appalled, and finally infuriated by the stream of bigotry he was directing at “those bloody Abos” and, on my arrival, I physically removed him from the studio we shared.
Next day I complained to management about Zemanek’s rabid racism, warning it might imperil the station’s licence. The official response – total unconcern – taught me a lesson about “talk radio”: it thrives on bigotry. Because it makes much of its money out of fear and ignorance – and the absurd moral panics it helps to create – it prefers its “personalities” to pour petrol rather than oil on troubled waters. Because social division pays dividends, stations turn a deaf ear to slanders on Abos, Asians, poofters, do-gooders, feminists, unionists, Muslims (the list goes on and on) while secretly rejoicing in the societal damage – and laughing at broadcasting’s ridiculous, snivelling “regulators”.
Out of regard to Marcella, Zemanek’s likeable and long-suffering wife, I kept my silence at the time of his death – while marvelling at the campaign by The Daily Telegraph in Sydney to have him sanctified. For some perverse (perhaps subtly satiric?) reason, they presented Stan as Mother Teresa with a microphone. His attacks on the powerless, the voiceless and the defenceless were passed off as wit.
Sydney went close to giving Stan a state funeral – it was broadcast on pay TV – and the flood of tears from fellow celebs verged on the drought-breaking. Only Mike Carlton spoke out. Though our politics are similar Mr Carlton and I are far from friends, yet I felt some sympathy when the Telegraph tried to have him lynched – and was pleased when Crikey published Alex Mitchell’s account of an earlier fracas: “Phillip Adams gave the most accurate verdict on Zemanek in his column in The Australian on March 22, 1997, after receiving a turd anonymously through the post. Without accusing the toxic loudmouth of sending the bizarre missive bundled in Glad-wrap, Adams wrote, ‘I recently suggested that Zemanek’s brain bore an eerie similarity to a Surprise pea. Prior to immersion. That was clearly a vulgar and uncouth thing to say and I’m now ready to apologise. Abjectly. To Surprise peas everywhere.’”
Sometimes, of course, Stan was merely funny. By accident. As chairman of the National Australia Day Council it was my task to help choose the Australian of the Year. One year our selection of Mandawuy Yunupingu provoked such an outburst of bigotry from Stan’s colleague, Alan Jones, that even The Daily Telegraph was moved to tick him off in an editorial. But the choice three years later couldn’t possibly provoke protest; indeed, Mr Jones approved. It was the painter Arthur Boyd, who’d just donated his property on the Shoalhaven – and paintings worth millions – to the nation. Zemanek’s response? He was even more berserk than usual. “Who the hell’s this Boyd bloke? Who’s ever heard of him? What’s he ever done for Australia?”
I co-wrote a book about talk radio, Talkback: Emperors of Air, containing a lot of shock-jock transcripts. If you ever see a copy in a remainder bin, check out the chapter devoted to Zemanek. See if you think that Stan – on the PM’s shortlist of favourite broadcasters – was a wit or a shit. And marvel at the fact that he’s not even the worst example of his ilk. Both Adelaide and Perth can boast shock-jocks whose output of toxic sludge remains greater and more hate-filled.
A few weeks after Zemanek’s death, the PM and other worthies attended an event that marked the 30th anniversary of talkback in Australia. Given that John Laws was intent on turning the evening into an orgy of personal congratulation, Alan Jones didn’t show. Nor did Carlton, probably fearful of a tar-and-feathering. But just what were the attendees celebrating?
When talkback arrived in this country – and my old friend Barry Jones can claim to be the very first shock-jock – I saw it as a damn good thing. The range of presenters made it truly pluralist. It built on Letters to the Editor, on Sunday gatherings at Hyde Park Corner, the Yarra Bank and the Domain to give people a chance to speak out. But with a few honourable exceptions it quickly descended into the most manipulative of all media – more choreographed and controlled than professional wrestling. A place where presenters feign moral outrage like prostitutes faking orgasm. A right-wing cesspit. Happy 30th? You’ve got to be kidding."
http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,25197,22339312-5013491,00.html
BTW, I think we should bring back the White Australia Policy. That way there would be no bad drivers, no accidents, no illegal drag races and no one for shock jocks to abuse with their ugly bigotry.
Sorry to bring this up here on BNUers, I ain't been around for a while but I know SGS will read this and I just hope that he understands what the hell he is supporting. I have read your blog for years now Sam and I am sorry but I can't read it anymore.
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