Tag Archives: Thornbury

SPFECH PATHOLOGY

9 Dec

We have all encountered this problem. You have hung your favourite Twilight Poster on the wall only to come back home on a hot day and it’s performing some Ouroboros maneuver on the floor, and whats-his-name the vampire dude’s face is now all crinkly. Heat and gravity have struck at your tender childhood heart, to spite your flowering girlish dreams.

Spare a thought for this poor Speech Pathologist. Obviously she didn’t account for extreme sun ray action in her shopfront when writing her business plan or else this delightfully unfortunate blu-tack droop to the letter E would not have happened. But something inside me is glad it did.

Spfech Pathology

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Random Insults Day 16 – Scrap Mutant Ferguson

18 Nov

I’ve seen this insult to local MP Martin Ferguson on other methods of waste disposal around Thornbury. This one was on the side of a dumpster at the BP servo on St George’s Road.

Fergo is considered a bit of a political relic from the dinosaur days of the Labor Party. My limited experience of him, outside of news exposure, has been in the odd slacktervist lobbying on environmental issues via GetUp. Upon voicing my democratic concerns once, his office’s own form letter flippantly lead with a backhanded line that read something like “Thanks for your inquiry lodged via the GetUp website.” Good call Fergo, but not the most respectful way to talk to your constituents.

As resources Minister he has been stirring up the environmental hornets nest by leading the charge to sell Australia’s uranium to India. One can only assume that this Texta lobbying is a plea to the good people of Thornbury, by said marker wielding crusader, to dump Ferguson for some more enlightened and progressive representative. Though maybe I presume too much. Wouldn’t a greenie say something along the lines of Recycle Mutant Ferguson? Nah, not as snappy as “Scrap… ” but definitely creepier.

scrap mutant ferguson

Random Insults Day 12 – Howard & Rudd 2 Cheeks of the 1 Arse

8 Nov

While a little dated, this profoundly insightful comment on present day two party politics in Australia is a worthy addition to anyone’s collection of insulting graffiti. I pass this gem regularly and it is looking a lot sadder now than when I snapped it back in December 2010. And even more so than when it was first scrawled back in the day (circa 2008) when Kevin Rudd was loosing face after ending the turgid reign of our little mate John Howard. Still one need only exchange the names of today’s leaders from both sides of politics to get the same amusing effect.

Howard & Rudd 2 cheeks of the 1 arse

Random Insults Day 8 – Fuck my Libido!

1 Nov

For those keeping up with this series of posts we are now sailing into the lame winds of the graffiti doldrums. In this sad place there is only the stagnant feeling of sameness mounting itself, like the sorry joys of the serial consumer of online pornography. The case in point, as seen below, is vandalism of children’s playground equipment with statements that only seem interesting because they are so inappropriately displayed. Why we should fuck the author’s libido may be a worthy question for criminologists studying the nascent signs of exhibitionism in this *embarrassing cough* artist, but to the rest of the world it should not matter one whit.

fuck my libido

Random Insults Day 4 – Defaced Run Property sign

28 Oct

Anything that takes the piss out of Real Estate agents gets my thumbs up. ‘Nuff said.

Defaced Run property sign

Is facebook diversifying?

23 Sep

This is not so much graffiti as happenstance. Upon seeing this dumped compost bin with it’s garden trimmings and gaffer repair job,  I raised a chuckle and asked myself the question, is facebook diversifying? If so, watch out Jim’s mowing.

gaffer tape facebook logo

World of Pure Illustration

1 Sep

“Come with me, and you’ll be in a world of pure imagination.” So sang Willie Wonka leading the children into the Chocolate Room in the original adaptation of Roald Dahl’s immortal  Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

And like Charlie let loose in the Wonka factory is how I felt coming across this series of quips and commentary spray painted on the bike track along the Merri Creek in Thornbury. It seemed unfair to break them up into separate posts, so as the man sang, “If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it. Anything you want to, do it. Want to change the world? There’s nothing to it.”

I want something real

At the mouth of the bike track, across the road is this angsty existentialist statement.

The Real is a complex philosophical issue, one of those Big questions that greater minds than mine or our artists have found unsatisfactorily answered.

Think of Plato’s cave, its deceptive parade of shadows and it’s chained denizen turned social outcast when he finally see’s the sun. Leibniz and his monads (don’t ask me to explain that one). Descartes and his Meditations on the deception of the senses and the machinations of the mind, or Locke and his flaming of inductive reasoning. Phew and that’s only a taste of first year philosophy.

May I argue from my book of pop lyrics that, “Baby, life’s what you make it.” You want the Real? You got it, tiger.

Fat?

When one walks up the path, or enters into the Chocolate Room, one is asked this simple question. Fat? It seems quite pertinent. The entrance is a short, steep hill. The kind of  hill that makes you grit your teeth, look down and start climbing. I can see this question giving (mental) pause to all who walk or ride this way, and the images that follow it, may turn the frown or smile that answers, deeper or wider.

Graffitied Bike track sign with figure and thought bubble, "TV?"

It’s not the first thing that springs to mind while riding up a hill, but it may be what our late afternoon commuter may be thinking. I think of those people who jog to music, or those kids in the back of high priced SUVs watching The Wiggles on their lil’ monitors mounted in the back of their parent’s leather bucket seat headrests.

If only one could cycle and YouTube. There are glasses for that, but I’m not sure how they’d help you negotiate the tricky turns with that deep voiced kid singing Chocolate Rain in your head phones and assaulting your vision… but someone’s bound to sort that little problem out soon.

Grafittied pedestrian with speech bubble "Who am I?"

Now it’s the pedestrian’s turn to ponder. If you missed the rant above re Reality, I’d ask you to please reread as I shan’t repeat myself here, but the same argument applies.

Regardless of the philosophical ramifications, the profundity of this alteration is miles ahead of the guy who, a click or so down the track, turned the direction arrow into a phallus. But hey, that’s just me.

Graffiti on path "Walk the Line"

Here’s one for the Johnny Cash fans. Our artist is on fire, by this stage (presuming it is the same artist).

Pink graffiti on track, "No Drama"

Another voice enters as we walk a few steps forward. Let’s call her Pink. (See how I was kinda sexist and non-sexist in that statement) Perhaps pink is a Mary J. Blige fan? I know, I love that tune too with the Young and the Restless piano sample, but is it worth advertising that fact to the illustrated masses?

Still these words offer us a nice consoling sentiment, and later on we’ll see Pink has a question for us that an ambivalent third character has a very clever answer to. But I digress. Let’s move on with the tour.

White graffiti "Industrial Nature"

Our first scribbler continues to make a few more thought provoking statements here. Is “Industrial” his or our collective nature? Or is it nature which is industrious, as the leaves, bark, bugs and seeds strewn across the path and on the verge testify. The arrow is pointing back the way we came. Perhaps our artist is commenting on the other work that we skipped over along the path (some of which didn’t rank as worthy for yours truly to document, but still could be applauded, if merely for the fact that some youngster, or oldster, bothered to get off their backside in favour of scrawling on the bike path some sunny day past.)

Moving right along.

Graffiti on path "I want credit for all I've done"

About here, our first scribe is feeling the loneliness of the creative act. What is creativity without the applause? It makes me wonder that if the creationists are right, then perhaps life’s shimmering spectrum of suffering and ecstasy may just be the applause that the Creator is after.

Really, this is a question of product versus process. Either you create to enjoy the creative act, or you do it for the drugs, sex and bank roll you imagine an artist’s job lot and description necessarily entails.

Of course this choice is not in fact an either/or decision. One must create to live, and live to create. As with all things a healthy balance of both is required. If not consult your family doctor.

Grafitti on path "I'm sure my heart is more broken than yours"

Here our artist may just be getting a little maudlin. But call me crazy, I still love this statement.

Depressives take note though, as appealing as it sounds, it ain’t necessarily so. As I like saying to those that mope around me (as well as to my own sorry thoughts) “Life is not a pissing contest of pain.” Please quote me.

Graffiti on path "I'm tough cos you've fucked me over"

Okay, we’re getting to the heart of the matter right here. Our artist suffers, hey don’t they/we all. Still s/he’s turned it into a positive, which means the scar is healing, just fine. It reminds of the title of a play that was in the Melbourne festival a few years ago. I don’t remember the exact title but it was something like, the more our heart is broken, the more difficult we are to love. I didn’t need to see the performance, the title was enough for me.

But I digress. Back to our tour. Notice here is where Yellow enters the picture. Yellow is obviously a censor, and doesn’t like swearing. What is our artist saying. Hey it ain’t that hard. I thought yellow a bit of a prick for doing this when I saw first saw this handy work. But then I walked a few paces and the truth of human nature emerged… you can’t really pin anyone down, because any label you apply one moment will be exploded the next.

Here we say goodbye to our first artist, Let’s move on.

Pink grafitti "what is more important than love or peace"

Yellow may be a censor, but s/he is also a master. This truly is genius in an ampersand.

There is a long tradition of replying to existing graffiti. Just think of those conversations on toilet walls, sometimes with more arrows pointing hither and yon than a wacky Wired flowchart. But whereas Yellow defaced our original artist’s work, here, on Pinks very important question, “What is more important than love or peace?” (sorry about the cut off question mark), what we get is both a reply and an elevation of the statement. What is amazing is this could not have been executed as succinctly and economically in any other way. This language has gone 3 dimensional. We see the first statement juxtaposed with a second – the same statement corrected and rewritten, and all it took was a can of fluoro-yellow and one lil’ ampersand. What is more important than Love or Peace… why Love and Peace. Not as snappy is it?

To end our tour I will ask Mr Willie Wonka, as personified so beautifully by the amazing Gene Wilder, to sing us one of the most poetically philosophical tunes I know.