Entries Tagged as 'Site Biz'

Loadedog Returns

Some of you may have noticed I haven’t really been contributing to the site in the last year or two. The gig guide has been updated weekly, the Culturazi email has gone out and the odd event poster has been posted, but articles of any substance have been few and far between. I’d apologise if I thought anyone really gave a damn. I’d say that those who know me know that I’ve been busy doing a lot of other things and that, after four years of constant proselytising, the well had run dry.

Instead I’ll just say that, having allowed myself to not write for a significant period, I feel the well is replenished. Coincidentally Gertrude has announced her retirement, Chiffon is absent, Bic Parker is in protective custody and a blog consisting entirely of Letters from Vietnam is hardly riveting, so I have chosen this moment to end my hiatus. In the last two days, I’ve updated my version of wordpress and installed a new photo gallery plugin which you can see in action here (caution – World Naked Bike Pics, may be NSFW).

Also, we’ll soon be reviving Insatiable Banalities – The Podcast, possibly with the original crew of moi, Johnboy, Gertrude (she hasn’t entirely forsaken me) and Kandy Pants. And there’ll be lots of photos, by me, and by Qedqed who’s been hassling me to post his fantastic gig pics for ages. Unfortunately many of the shots he’s taken in the last six months were deleted yesterday in an unfortunate hard disk formatting incident, but there’ll be plenty more to come I’m sure.

So there you go. I’m back. And I’m promising to write regularly so, if you see me around and I haven’t been posting much, you are entitled to harass me.

Gallery Fixed

For those that were interested, Wedfest Photo Gallery Two now works. I abandoned the Simpleviewer gallery plugin which inexplicably refused to find the gallery files, and just stuck the pictures in the page.


So my wonderfully good intentions to update the site with regularity this year have so far fallen in a crumpled heap. Each day I think I’d like to write something (like I’d also like to write songs each day), but I seldom ever get near the bottom of all the other things I have to do and the site has languished like a neglected lover. What can I say, other than I’ll try to do better in the future, but right now I have to go down the coast for a marriage-like ceremony and thus there’ll be no chance to make good on that till Monday. Have a good weekend.

The Holiday is Over

The thing about being a self-employed dilettante musician/writer functional alcoholic borderline disordered personality is that you’re always on holiday and yet rarely ever have a real break. In fact holiday time is often an irritating disruption to the normal flow of life, full of people who normally leave one alone all blessed day, and of disagreeable tasks like shopping at a time when the shops are often unaccountably closed. It’s a time to be ignored or at worst endured, and for the last four or so years I’ve been more or less chained to the keyboard throughout, driven to perpetually produce stuff as though any absence would bring my whole little world crumbling down. I am, it seems, what I do.

This year was different, and with my partner securing a viable slab of annual leave, I decided to switch off for once. We even went away for a while, spending nearly a week attending the Woodford Folk Festival (photos and possibly review of sorts coming soon… ish), but otherwise we just bummed around, attended parties, held parties, moved beer o’clock from the normal 5pm to somewhere around lunch time and generally had a relaxed but debauched time with friends and family. I got a tan. I got a pimply bum (blamed on the QLD weather and continually sweat-drenched undies). I wrote half a song. We had fun and we had some ‘interesting’ times, but ultimately it was all good, I feel refreshed and we’re looking forward to a great year.

Birthing Pains

Hello and welcome to the new home of the web site formally known as loadedog.com. It’s now known as culturazi.com, a domain that I registered with a kosher registrar, rather than allowing my #@#%*))% former web hosts to do it for me resulting in them owning it and not me. You live and learn. My new web hosts, hostbaby.com (a relative of cdbaby.com) have so far been very helpful in getting the site transferred and running smoothly and, at $20/mth for 2 gig of data storage and unlimited traffic, are in the cheap range between dirt and insane. They’re mostly set up for bands to make quick easy template sites, well worth a look if you’re thinking of making a site. And no, they’re not giving me any discount to say that.

As you can probably deduce, besides looking completely different, the site is pretty much exactly the same as it was. Those of you sensitive to large slabs of red at each side of a page will be grateful to Johnboy of RiotACT for his influence in that regard. Feel free to comment if you can’t stand large slabs of steel grey. Speaking of which, we welcome Johnboy back to Canberra, he having recently reassumed the mantle of editor in chief of that august, in Canberra weblog terms, institution. Apparently he’s being paid this time, something he always deserved, and something only time will tell about whether the little blog that roars ‘Riot!’ can afford. We wish him and it well.

If you’re reading back through the site a little ways, you will find instances of apostrophes turning into a series of question marks, as in ‘”?’. This is apparently a result of the incorrect charset being used when uploading the database. If your mind is now doing a version of ‘”?’, welcome to my world, but the good news is my new web hosts think they can fix it soon. If anyone knows how to extend my left and right sidebars all the way to the bottom of the page, I will buy you a six pack.

Peak Oil: Bring it on?

Off to the coast this weekend, if we can get off our arses, and missing the talkfest across the lake. Leave you with this thought. We’ve all heard of peak oil, seen the movies, wondered if it might actually make redundant efforts to avert climate change (as the world’s economy collapses). But have you heard about what happened to Cuba’s agricultural sector when subsidised imports of Soviet oil dried up? Sure it was bad for a while, but they managed to get back to a reasonable level of production using some pretty innovative methods, not least leasing government land in cities for urban food gardens.

via metafilter.


Your much beloved editor is writing this from the balcony of The Balcony Cafe on Somethingorother St (even the waitress didn’t know its name) in Byron Bay. Writing it, it should be said, on my not-so-shiny-any-more laptop via The Balcony’s wireless network. I feel so swithed on like such a ponce. For the record, the breakfast was a standard big brekky with a mug of flat white (sorry Coffee Bitch). Not sure if it was the food, the climate or the fat joint for appetiser but I haven’t eaten so much at breakfast time in years.

We’ll be here till Saturday, swanning around in a six-speed corolla (do you really need that many gears?), visiting friends, family, checking out the peaches etc. and probably won’t get around to doing much on the site, though I will be sending out the Culturazi as usual tomorrow. If I can be bothered.

A Moving Experience

Forgive the appaling and unoriginal pun but we are moving house, a task that leads to all sorts of unfortunate consequences, dull wordplay being amongst the lesser of such evils. I’d say moving house is as much fun as having a tooth pulled, but I had a tooth pulled last week and there is no comparison.

It was a wisdom tooth, a big ugly bastard of a thing, and the decision to extract was easily made when an x-ray revealed a dying hulk beyond salvation. Plus the fact that, with no opposing tooth on the lower side (it having crumbled long since), it was as useful as a scissor.

It came out with barely a whimper. Actually it came out with a sickening cracking sound discernible only within my skull, the absence of associated pain adding a surreal gloss to the experience. ‘Is it that easy to dismantle a person,’ I was thinking, adding another disturbing perspective to my already morbid obsession with mortality.

I’d show you a picture of it but I think I have packed it in a box. One of the rare joys of moving house is finding a whole lot of stuff you thought you’d lost or even forgotten you owned. One of the evils is that you immediately pack them in a box from which they may never emerge. Still, it’s comforting to do a mental inventory, despite the fact that of the 75, 381 objects that have passed my gaze on their way to their new cardboard home, probably 50,627 are expendable bits of junk.

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Brick Bats and Cheesecake

One of our neighbours from over the back fence just dropped by with half a cheesecake as a thankyou for the music last Saturday. She was having a party in her yard that night and the Backyard Backanalia apparently provided a lovely aural backdrop. This was in stark contrast to Angry Neighbour from three doors down who made a brief cameo appearance at around 1 AM, fronting up to poor Alice Cottee in the middle of a quiet solo number and abusing her.

They (he and his pretty but venomous wife) passed by yesterday as we were unloading from a gig at Olims, making some snide remark but unwilling to stop and have a reasonable talk about it. As they disappeared down the street I yelled out that it was the last Backanalia we’d be putting on there and that we were moving out this week. She did a little victory dance.

Besides Angry Neighbour’s lack of social skills, the community hereabouts has been remarkably tolerant of our occasional debauches – just one official noise complaint in our five years here. The people next door, a gentile older couple with an immaculate lawn, have been quite sweet about things. They cop the main brunt of the p.a. and only a couple of times have they come by to meekly suggest we could turn it down, and that only when we’ve gone well over the usual end time of 11pm.

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Stop Looking

Positive Visualisation works! We’ve found a house. It’s exactly what we were looking for. Exactly! We start moving in about ten days, but we’ll still have a Backanalia here on 26th Jan. The following one, on 23rd Feb, will be in the new location, still in the inner north of town – a Backanalia, a house warming, and the start of a new era. Let the celebrations begin.

Thank You

Perhaps illustrating the dangers of alcohol before breakfast, the other day I left my camera bag near a memorial on Anzac Parade. At first I thought I’d left it at party in an adjacent house, but searches turned up nothing and I pretty much resigned myself to having lost the bag, Sharkie’s digital SLR (with 300 photos on board), a couple of guitar tuners, leads etc. for good.

The next day, ruminating on why my normally very good karma seemed to have fled (a small number of angst-inducing life incidences seemingly prevailing), I thought I’d try the cops. You never know…

They had it. With everything in it. Unbefuckinglievable.

The cops couldn’t reveal the name of my benefactors, but said they’d pass my details on to them. They haven’t contacted me. I doubt they’ll ever read this, but thanks, you made my day.

And with that, a resolution (made handily close to the new year) to always eat breakfast before imbibing. Cheers and happy new year.


Back in the early eighties, people used to talk about positive visualisation. When I say ‘people’, I really mean hippies, new-agers and other impossibly positive and cheese-cloth bedecked folk. And when I say ‘talk about’ I really mean ‘crap on endlessly’. Anyway, what they were on about was a form of cargo cult whereby one could manifest the things one wanted in life – money, material things, partners – by thinking about them positively.

Also, one was supposed to ‘put it out there’ and, while I don’t entirely discount the power of positive thinking, I think it was this aspect of positive visualisation that actually made some sense, not so much ‘think it and it will come’ as ‘tell everyone about it and you might get lucky’.

Thus it is, as our hour of eviction from the house in Reid where we have lived so happily for the last five years looms uncomfortably near, that we are ‘putting it out there’ that we need a house to rent somewhere in the inner north of Canberra. Ideally it’d be close to Civic, on a block big enough to host the Backanalia, with a large shed, 2-4 bedrooms (at around $150 per room) and have a separate lounge/rumpus/studio large enough to host podcasts (around 5×4 metres is adequate).

There it is. Out there. Visualising positively now.


Hello dear readers. Your editor returns after an extended period of not posting, during which only the conscientious efforts of Gertrude, Chiffon, Coffee Bitch and the unexpected return of Evil Alisandra have belied the impression that Loadedog had ground to a complete halt. Gertrude even joked that if I didn’t start posting soon, we’d have to call the site loadedgertie.com. The lack of posts from yours truly has been due to the following factors (otherwise known as whinges):

I had a toothache, an infection which spread from my second molar up my face to my eyebrow. After antibiotics largely controlled the pain and fever, I was left with a pus-emiting sinus that produced great quantities of snot that smelt a bit like poo. My brain also seems slightly damaged but I’m not sure if the infection was to blame.

The holidays, during which all normality ceases, the house is full of people who are normally at work all week, and no rhythm can be established. To wit, my sleeping patterns have been disrupted, meaning I’m seldom awake between midnight and 4AM, normally my most productive/creative hours, and frequently awaken at around 4 or 5AM, if only briefly, for a session of what might kindly be described as procrastination.

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WTF Happened?

Did you miss us? I could explain why we were gone, but it’d bore you. I would explain our sudden reappearance, but I haven’t a clue. Suffice to say, we’re happy to be back, we’re raring to go after an extended, if somewhat gloomy, break, and… sorry, we are very sorry for any anguish our absence may have caused.

The New Black

For quite a while I’ve been having an argument with myself about the colour scheme on Loadedog, wondering if the black background is off-putting or hard to read or whatever. I look at white sites and feel like they’re so clean and wholesome and good. Opening them up sometimes it’s like a heavenly choir sings a sacred chord. But not anymore.

I just received an email from a buddy telling me about a fellow called Mark Ontkush who wrote an article speculating that, if every Google search page was rendered in white on black rather than black and blue on white, the energy savings world-wide from CRT monitors using approximately 20% less energy would amount to 750 megawatts a year. Interestingly, Google has responded with a black version, called Blackle, which lacks all but a basic search, but is very black.

For my own part, having a black site has probably saved the world around 50 watts or so, and counting, so nyahh to all you pristine, energy-hogging, white sites. Nyahh!

UPDATE: Then again, maybe it’s all a crock of shit.