Man jumps from ambulance, then hit by truck

A MAN who suffered minor injuries in a car crash was critially injured when he jumped out of the ambulance and into the path of an oncoming semi-trailer.

Ambulance officers were called to treat the 26-year-old man for minor injuries after his car crashed into a power pole and rolled several times on Mt Cotton Road in south Brisbane about 11.15pm (AEST) yesterday.

The man was being taken to the Princess Alexandra Hospital when he jumped out of the ambulance, ran across the road and was hit by the semi-trailer whose driver tried desperately to avoid him, police said.

He is now in critical condition.

(from news.com.au)

My guess is he forgot he wasn’t playing Grand Theft Auto.

Millions of Australians were affected by industrial action at the ABC today.

The nation wept this morning as it failed to be hilariously distracted from the meaningless drudgery of everyday suburban life. Triple J listeners were forced to listen to an uninterrupted run of high-quality, up-to-date eclectic alternative music, and faced the unfamiliar prospect of dancing in the shower rather than chuckling knowingly at in-jokes.
Listeners of most other networks were shunted onto the BBC, creating the impression of an emergency broadcast system reminiscent of the situation in Bangkok.

“People love us wacky breakfast hosts. If it weren’t for us, there would have been no Talk Like a Pirate Day earlier this week. There would be no such thing as a Mini Mammoth. This is an essential service we provide, and we deserve greater recognition!” said one radio host, whose name I didn’t quite catch.

Breakfast radio comedians like this one were forced to entertain each other for the morning, briefly pausing every half hour to make way for the striking newsreaders to simply say: “this just in – we’re still on strike!”

The cast of Play School made some cameras and microphones out of cardboard tubes and egg cartons so that news crews could take extensive footage of the industrial action. It will be shown through the square window later this afternoon.

But quote of the day goes to CPSU ABC section secretary Graeme Thomson, who expects “some funny episodes where ABC managers will sit behind the microphone and make gooses of themselves”.

One thing I do think I understand, though, is young Zach Braff. You know, that guy from Scrubs and Garden State.

I know he’s the kind of young attractive intelligent creative person that might piss people off, especially if they’re underappreciated arty types condemned by inadequate arts and ABC funding to spend their lives as cynics.
But I happen to like the guy.

Here’s a sample from his newly christened, shamelessly self-promotional blog:

I think one of my Sims, Arnold, is gay. I will totally support him to be whomever he truly is, but it does come as a bit of a surprise. All he wants to do is hang out with a paramedic named, Randy. I bought him a chessboard. I bought him an easel. He couldn’t give a shit. All he wants to do is hang out with Randy. When Randy comes over they tickle each other and play fight. Sometimes they watch TV and dance. I tried to get him to invite over Delores, a very attractive African American Sim who lives nearby. The last time she came over, Randy c-blocked Arnold, and spent the whole night playing chess with Delores. Don’t get me wrong, I’m super siked someone’s getting some use out of the board, it cost me a pretty penny, I just wish Randy wasn’t so possessive. (Plus I think he dips his toes in both ponds if you know what I mean.) I’ll keep you guys posted. He’s throwing a big party when he gets home from work tonight- we’ll see how the drama unfolds. He doesn’t know this yet, but we’re not inviting Randy.

Zach has the kind of personal problems you wish you had.

Is it me? Or is Hollywood having a laugh at our expense?

Two critically acclaimed films, Tristram Shandy and Syriana, have caused much consternation at ICBYCWIT HQ in recent days.

A roomful of university-educated people simply failed to get the gist of these two very popular movies, and in one case even drove us to sleep.
If you thought Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (“perhaps too clever for its own good“ wrote one reviewer) had a complicated plot, don’t see either of these intellectual aerobics videos.

In the story of Tristam Shandy, Steve Coogan plays Steve Coogan, an insecure actor playing the title role as well as his father. Rob Brydon plays Rob Brydon, another insecure actor trying to gain more time prominence in the film. He does this (I think) with the help of Gillian Anderson playing Gillian Anderson, a successful but out-of-work Hollywood actress who is a big fan of the book the film is based on.

The film is an autobiography of the title character, which abrubtly ends shortly after he is born, and the cameras go behind the scenes instead. And that’s the point where it lost me. Is it a film about this guy Tristram Shandy, or is it a DVD extra?

David Denby wrote in the New Yorker:
“One trouble with the current vogue for meta-cinema is that its practioners, such as Winterbottom and Charlie Kaufman, underestimate the extraordinary difficulty of telling a good story straight.”

It’s got a great website though.

Which brings me to Syriana, the most complicated movie I’ve ever seen.

George Clooney plays Bob, a sinister type of guy with a beard who speaks Farsi and blows things up, and Matt Damon reprises part of his Bourne Identity role as Bryan, an energy market analyst living peacefully with his family in Geneva.
Bob probably works for the CIA and they want him to do something different, like a desk job, but he’s never done that before. So they find something special for him to do.
One of Bryan’s young children is killed tragically, but he scores a lucrative consulting contract as a result. He wonders how much his other child is worth.
Um, then some stuff blows up, I doze off and two hours later, the credits are rolling.

Oh yeah, I get it now, it’s the complex interplay between the Arab prince and the corporate lawyer trying to… no, I missed it too.

And it appears I’m not the only one. In her San Francisco Chronicle review entitled The international battle for oil has rarely seemed so confusing, Ruthe Stein writes:
“It’s hard to get passionately swept away by a movie when you’re struggling continually to figure out who’s doing what to whom and why.”

Tell me about it. At least Tristram was trying to be funny.

I’m not usually one for bloggames, but the lovely PetStarr has inspired me with her inventive WinAmp magic 8-ball quiz, which she has in turn inexplicably stolen from Not Frank Parater, who gives credit to Curt Jester. Such is life.

Anyway, for this version you don’t need an iPod, just a computer and some MP3s. (Uncorporatise, man!^*)

Put your music on shuffle and answer these questions.
(I swear I didn’t cheat, these answers are just way too spooky.)

1. How does the world see me?
   The Winnie Coopers – Success

2. Will I have a happy life?
   Jack Johnson – Banana Pancakes
3. What do my friends really think of me?
   Nate James – Set The Tone
4. What do people secretly think of me?
   Smoke City – Mr Gorgeous (And Miss Curvaceous)
5. How can I make myself happy?
   Roots Manuva & DJ Skitz – Where My Mind Is At
6. What should I do with my life?
   Jack Johnson – Crying Shame
7. Will I ever have children?
   Basement Jaxx – Do Your Thing
8. What is some good advice for me?
   Michael Franti & Spearhead – Oh My God
9. How will I be remembered?
   Butterfingers – Jesus I Was Evil
10. What is my signature dancing song?
    Air – Cherry Blossom Girl
11. What do I think my current theme song is?
    Sarah Vaughan – Peter Gunn (Max Sedgley Remix)
12. What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
    Regurgitator – I Like Your Old Stuff Better Than Your New Stuff
13. What song will play at my funeral?
    Emiliana Torrini – Sunny Road
14. What type of men/women do you like?
    Eskimo Joe – From The Sea
15. What is my day going to be like?
    Powderfinger – (Baby I’ve Got You) On My Mind

I freak myself out sometimes…

^* Uriah’s Heap, the Recycling Centre in The Simpsons, is run by a guy called Uriah the Hippie. Sadly, there are no web pages (yet) dedicated to him or his post-modern catchphrases.

As the nuclear energy debate hots up at the moment, the Sydney Morning Herald has made some startling revelations. If you think Australia needs nuclear, just take a look at these juicy tidbits:

Research by the Herald has found that a loose association of anti-wind farm groups in Victoria that goes by the name of Landscape Guardians, or Coastal Guardians, relies heavily for its information and tactics on the British anti-wind farm pressure group Country Guardians.

That group was set up by Sir Bernard Ingham, press secretary to Margaret Thatcher when she was prime minister. Sir Bernard is now a director of Supporters of Nuclear Energy, and a former consultant to British Nuclear Fuels.

Coastal Guardians Victoria has also worked closely with the now-discredited British botanist David Bellamy, who believes climate change is a myth. He visited Victoria’s South Gippsland in 2004 to campaign against wind farms.

which would you rather?

The spokesman for Coastal Guardians of Victoria, Tim Le Roy … said wind power would not work because it needed back-up power (the national electricity grid is, in fact, already served by back-up power); green groups were split over wind power (all of Australia’s major environment groups support wind power); and that wind turbines did not work because they could not store electricity. However, there is no effective way to store large amounts of electricity, regardless of whether it comes from coal or wind, energy experts say.

In NSW, one of the groups using the Landscape Guardians moniker is based in the village of Taralga. Its members are challenging a local wind farm project in the Land and Environment Court. Their president, Paul Miskelly, worked for the Australian Nuclear Science and Technology Organisation for 32 years and has given talks on nuclear power.

thanks to Wendy Frew.

Everyone’s talking today about the Monday night BBC interview of Guy Kewney, internet expert and editor of NewsWireless, in which they mistakenly interviewed a taxi driver, Guy Goma, instead.

Daily Mail reports:

Mr Goma, a graduate from the Congo, described his surprise interview ordeal as “very stressful”. He found himself being ushered into a studio and fitted with a microphone after raising his hand when a producer called out the name Guy Kewney.

Click here to watch the video. It’s priceless.

But by far the coolest thing is what Guy Kewney had to say about it:

I’m not black. I’m not black on a startling scale; I’m fair-haired, blue-eyed, prominent-nosed, and with the sort of pale skin that makes my dermatologist wince each time I complain about an itchy mole. I’m a walking candidate for chronic sunburn damage. I’m really, really not black.

But the guy on screen – sorry, the “Guy Kewney” live, on screen, definitely was. Black. Also, he spoke with a French-sounding accent, and he seemed as baffled as I felt.

As well as his pending book deal, Guy (“the black one”) Goma is currently negotiating a contract as a consultant to the BBC, specialising mainly in IT law, with a sideline in how to tell white people from black people.

UPDATE: turns out this one got less true and more funny as it circulated the internet. Guy Goma is in fact an IT expert (a data recovery specialist), and NOT a taxi driver at all. Just someone’s cruel stereotype of African graduates living in England. Apparently he was indeed there for an interview, but he wasn’t expecting one live on air!