Archive | January, 2011

Building Bullshit

28 Jan

You’ve got to love the desecration of political propaganda. Snapped on Australia Day 2011, I thought it appropriate to commemorate the waffle of national pride with this cream topping (in a can) of a culture-jam (a couple days late I know but… whatever). Perhaps fair comment is a more appropriate label for this work of poster vandalism. I like the A sign strategically placed next to the blacked out Labor Party Logo, transforming it into anarcho-syndicalist colours… who said old leftist dreams are dead. Shamefully un-Australian of me (and this spray can warrior) I know, but that’s free-speech for you – lap it up.

Building Bullshit

Political bullshit in its myriad forms



We turn homes into “assets”

24 Jan

You know you are living in sad times when you show something as guttingly insightful as this supplementary real estate slogan to someone and they simply shrug their agreement. That’s the case with property acquisition in this fair city of mine – ownership of a home, in the area of your choice, has become a privilege (don’t get me started on the leech like machinations of rental agents). That is why I was particularly chuffed when I came across this aptly and ably altered agent’s sign on my way home from the park with missy.

We turn homes into "assets"

Indeed we do.


21 Jan

Do you remember defacing your older sister’s fashion magazine when you were a feisty tween? Do you remember the satisfaction of drawing  mustaches on supermodels, or giving some uber-nubile bombshell’s perfect smile that much needed gaptooth? How about a stray booger dripping from the nose of that Big M girl whose face seemed to be everywhere back in the summer of ’77?

Well you were part of this crew that we all probably belonged to at some part of our lives  – the frustrated (probably talentless) artists who gave those Gothic invaders of the Roman Empire a bad name.

The fascination with the phallus is no doubt ancient, and perhaps my christian moral brainwashing is leading me to protest too much. However, like the criticism leveled at Dictation-not, these were snapped down at a kid’s playground, in between serves of tanbark sandwiches courtesy of my 3 year old, and hence, clever hermaphroditic allusions aside, deserve to be filed under stupid.

Phallus Tag 1

Even though this is just a childish picture of a dick, I like the hermaphroditic allusions here... or are those anatomically improbable balls that look like breasts? Mmmm, subtext.

Phallus Tag 2

Dick Head! Get it. You know you're in the post-modern era when someone is waxing lyrical about graffiti penises.

Say No to Graffiti!

19 Jan

This really should be the (ironic) banner image for this blog… a stencil artifact after my own heart. I’ve seen this etched up all along the Epping train line near Croxton station, but this one was snapped on a garage roller door near Northcote Plaza. It reminds me of a sticker I saw circulating around the time of the Gulf War (the second coming) with a pic of those champions for the moral high-ground, the G.W. and our own Little Johnny which said “Just say No to War.”


Spelling mistake aside, a stellar effort.

Fuck Life

14 Jan

Just to keep the expletives flying, I thought I’d post this gem that I discovered on my way to the dentist today. A fitting profundity for the anniversary of my birth, for without the fuck there would be no life. Long live the stupid!

Fuck Life

What more is there to say?


Fuck Art Fags (sic.)

13 Jan

If there were an equivalent of the Darwin Awards for dumb-arsed graffiti, this one would be a strong contender. Some photoshopping poster hound manipulated the mona lisa’s smile and floured it to the wall of a Collingwood graffiti hot spot. And then our genius comes along and adds his particular style to the mix. My only improvement, to give it a real aussie edge, would have been “Fuck Art Pooftas”. It seems that even our insults are being replaced by the forces of the great late capitalist American cultural gang-bang.

mona lisa scowl

The "original" mona lisa

Mona Lisa close up

"Fuck art fags" ... Brilliant didaction, homes!

Cold Inside

6 Jan

As Melbourne heads towards its next heatwave, I thought this little piece of graffiti might help to imbue an aura of cool for those lacking aircon. However when I snapped these words last year I was thinking more about the coldness of the heart, than the need for internal atmospheric temperature regulation.

Because of the anonymity of the graffiti medium, one can only speculate upon the author’s meaning in penning these words, but this is a blog and I’m willing to have a crack at it.

Being a bit of an emo, I can picture our angry jilted hero, with spray can in hand, tearing his heart from his sleeve on to the fence of his fickle hearted lover as she laughs on the patio on the other side, in the arms of her new beau. But who is cold here? Is it the scorned poet, who chooses never to love again, forsaking his creative calling and vowing, from this moment on, to write his last two words of poetry and pursue a career in real-estate? Or is it the jilter, that brazen femme fatale who used up our hero and spat him out, damning him to writing bad pop songs and heroic provocative graffiti on freshly minted fences in suburban Thornbury?

Here is the graffiti:

cold inside

And once you’ve contemplated that, here’s a little bit of Nico to set the closing theme for today’s post.