travail en cours

Well, that rounds up the Festival of Mildly Provocative Ideas. Watching Zizek speak between a sword-swallower and some witless bogan-bashing was a kind of perverse and degrading (i.e. entertaining) display of his brilliance and orginality.

Amid the dreary debate and the un-illuminating moral instruction of Saffran Foer, highlights were the awkward confrontation of our cultural elitism by Ronson (yes!) and Zizek firing on all cylinders despite sporting an unflattering clingy shirt that seemed to make him particularly twitchy and self-conscious. 

Now all I want is to do is eat a Zinger-Burger-Deluxe-Value-Meal and have some beers at Jacksons on George to reaffirm my class consciousness. After I have washed away that vaguely unclean feeling of smarmy intellectual righteousness I will contemplate my $50 dollar bookmark of Assange’s “Wikileaks Hasn’t Gone Far Enough” tickets. I got the wrong date and I missed the main act! Whoops.

Why is there no place to have a civilised supper on Sunday night in Sydney?!