mr. zilla goes to town

Sunday, July 11, 2004

foreignhate 9/11

I see in today's SMH that Paul Sheehan is having a blistering bitch about all things Michael Moore and Farenheit 9/11.

Let's take a look at the article. The first half is basically an ad-hominem attack on Moore for his surliness an inability play well with others early in his career, compounded by his reversal of fortune and later ability to parlay his documentary making into writing books and, god forbid, making some money. So it probably wouldn't be unfair of me to remind you of the retarded shilling that Sheehan did back in 2002 for the miraculous effects of drinking so-called "Unique Water". (As an aside, I wonder if Sheehan is going to survive the headlopping at Fairfax?)

Anyway the point I want to make - or actually repeat - is that Moore's film wouldn't exist if the mainstream media in the US were doing their damn job. That you can have multiple 24/7 news channels spewing limitless pulp, yet in the course the last several years fail to probe the motivations and relationships surrounding the loci of national power, means that the US deserves what it gets: a badly dressed beach-ball stumbling about firing his mouth off from the hip into the china shop. Got the picture? Clear as trousers.

Sheehan then dogs Moore for his lack of breadth of scope in F9/11 in not accounting for the evil of terrorism or Hussein in the Bush administration response. He also has a go at Moore for not providing a clear position on what would have been a right course of action for the government, and this after deriding him for bringing an ideological bias to the project?

Time's up, this post brought to you by the last VB, the last bagel, and the last of the tzaziki in the fridge. To be continued after I go out for some rawk followed by a run across town to the stoinkingly fine german nujazz ninjas Jazzanova I've been raving about for the last six months.

(Continued, Sunday night.) Anyway, as I was saying, I find it quite laughable that Paul Sheehan is slinging mud at Moore for close to 3,000 words. A substantial part of his argument in which is to castigate Moore for focussing on Bush and failing to address the greater evil of Hussein, when Sheehan himself could be using his endowment of column inches to speak truth to a greater power himself: perhaps to one or more Presidential candidate, the odd Prime Minister here or there; you know, someone in a decision making role over the Iraqi fracas of recent years, rather than some grubby bloated (h)acktivist like himself?

Whatever. Applying this standard to my own writing here, surely the only rightful thing for me to do now is to get upset about something actually meaningful like, oh I don't know, the primary source of human intelligence on Iraq's supposed bioweapons labs being an ureliable alcoholic interrogated while hungover and probably willing to say whatever was requested to have the wires removed from his gonads and a slimy plate of bacon, eggs and hashbrowns slipped in front of him.

More importantly I'd like to mention that Jazzanova (actually the single member of the DJ/production quintent who came to spin this leg of the tour) was a marvellous experience. Good tunes, albeit less of the brokenbeat I was hoping for and more of an admittedly appropriate and situated club-vibe, good vodka, good people, a good blag through to the booth to have a chat to the residents, watch Claas spin and have the usual fantasies about nicking off with his record box. It's almost like things are coming together here. Must be getting towards time to leave soon!


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