wagga space program

sonic overhang

Sunday November 12th 2006, 8:42 am
Filed under: the wagga blagga

Sunday November 12th


What’s the time?


Bet I’m the only one awake.

Bet I’m the only one awake feeling like this.

Was it raining? The earth is refreshed, but I feel like…

{c’mon, guess}

a long drive? uh-uh.

coffee? goes without typing

wine-tasting? still can.




hoo boy.

Bet I’m the only one awake feeling this GOOD.

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Unsound statistics

Saturday November 11th 2006, 3:27 pm
Filed under: the wagga blagga

Saturday November 11th

T-shirts or outer/upper-wear by colour
Black/olive (inc camouflage) 62%
Blue (including navy)/grey 12%
Floral/”rainbow” 8%
red/pink 11%
white 4%
industrial or safety wear (either as regulated or for effect) 2%
other 4%
Note: because of rounding, these figures may not add up to 100%

Participant size
XL/XXL 18% (national average 13%)
L 22% (14%)
M 29% (45%)
S 20% (20%)
XS 11% (8%)

Average volume (ie, sound not capacity) 28dB

Average volume except during performance 8dB (NOTE: includes sleep time)

Psychological well-being by activity
Smiling 19%
Concentrating 71%
Fidgeting 16%
Drinking [statistic auto-removed by site-controller]
Photographing (including video) 27%
Photographing others taking photographs (or video) 14% (over time)
Performing 1-12% (over time)
Reporting or composing 8%
Dancing 2%

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amidst the reek of industrial glue

Saturday November 11th 2006, 3:05 pm
Filed under: the wagga blagga

Saturday November 11th

a live connection from Junee, and a chance to upload these notes from live unsound06:

Live blog on bus
The legislative system on the bus “Fatal Irony” is discontinuous from the laws and regulations which apply outside, in Wagga Wagga proper. The manner of application is also novel – only on Fatal Irony, for example, is there continuous and direct quasi-governmental oversight.
As Patrick White notes in The Eye of the Storm (with slight paraphrase here for the sake of syntax), “Time and arthritis clinch the matter.”
It finished with little net efficiency increase, as crossing cattle added more than an hour to our journey through the visibly drying Riverina hills.

The wire interacted in an almost inflammable (or flammable) manner with my newly borrowed Kenneth Koch poetry anthology All Unsound participants quickly improvised a gorgeous verse, an abstract L*A*N*G*U*A*G*E number not unrelated to Old Man Emu. Subtle reverbs of occasional gumnuts hitting the wire from Eucalypts 41 and 46 (at a probability hiss/miss of 3/86) certainly added musicality.

First signs of the rift which resulted in some productions leaving a space between un and sound: that between shriekers and whisperers. One shrieker had somehow captured a whisperer, hogtied and suspended him above three hundred turntables at 33 rpm ± 8%. Each turntable emitted an array of researched frequencies designed to anger different bee and wasp species. As many of you saw, the result transformed the whisperer in the desired manner.

Café, Coolamon
The rift in some ways widened at the café, where Coolamon had come up with its first vegan menu (an interesting combination of vegemite and rye bread rolls). A waitress was delighted to be invested into the Order of the Noisy, and the café name is now changed to The Fox and Banjo.

Out of diesel
The train pulled out of Coolamon Railway Station under a clear blue sky, and yet under a cloud. I could not see how a unified journey to Junee, let alone back to Wagga Wagga, would ensue.

But once under way, the parties reached an accommodation of sorts with the spontaneous invention of “Heat Art”, and the dubbing of carriages 8-13 “Unheat”.

The searing Riverina temperatures played the traintracks liked a ukelele, twisting and twanging up a mean groove which our train, newly named Caldogare, danced to with the unfailing taste of an Adelaide limbo-ist (obscure reference to 1996).

Unsound dreams

Saturday November 11th 2006, 8:20 am
Filed under: the wagga blagga

Saturday November 11th

Shoulder to shoulder, arses swinging, and filling the footpath like three lanes of buses, no catching up, no getting past.

Oh shit, the bus!!! Gotta go.

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Music of the spheres

Friday November 10th 2006, 10:54 pm
Filed under: the wagga blagga

Friday November 10th

At the Monster Trucks tonight, the long-term resident band — Wall of Walls — happily included a juggler with those whistling gyroscopes which play Ave Maria. [Note: image to follow, and for all those there, please post your own images.] Despite some uneven amplification (resulting in, at times, an excess of harmonics), WoW’s driving bass rhythm really got us all revved (assisted by huge quantities of the Beer Formerly Known as DogBait). WoW were well-supported by cosy a cappella from King’s College Cambridge.

The light show was marvellous too, a result of the application of letratone and letraset onto clear film. For some reason I was reminded of the joke about how Native Americans got their names (when they were still called Indians (ie, even before the term Amerindians passed in and out of use)).

As for the trucks: disappointing, especially compared with the Gundagai meet last week. Much had been made of the Wagga Wagga debut of GM’s Rockwell 2 1/5 ton top-loader axles, now combined for the first time with hydraulically dampened traction bar suspension. To me, this dampened velocity and did nothing for traction. My companion, usually of gentler critical intensity than I am, went so far as to say, “I’ve seen wilder moves by SUVs in the Sydney Harbour Tunnel.”

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Friday November 10th 2006, 6:51 am
Filed under: the wagga blagga

Friday November 10th

That last was “rude”: some members of unsound06’s vast readership felt certain references were too pointed and even the man on the Clapham omnibus had or would have identified each of my alleged cerebro-linguistic offenders immediately.

My remorse is shown in the following haiku:

Raspberries all round.
see you on dusty ground for
actual unsound.


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At last, a real job

Wednesday November 08th 2006, 8:52 pm
Filed under: the wagga blagga

Wednesday November 08th

I’m (semi-absolutely and pro-totally) utteringly warning you, you won’t like this one one one bit. Yes, “At last, a real job” responds to the string theory of complaints from the sorts of people who:

(1) think “penultimate” is a sophisticated way of saying “ultimate”;

(2) accept the popular view that extreme has something to do with skateboarding down stairs;

(3) (for all I care) wholeheartedly believe that exasperation and exhalation are peas in the pod of meaning;

(4) attempt to “point out” that birdsong is as musical in intention as anything emanating from cheerful boutiques along the poultry slaughterers’ end of Fitzmaurice Street;

(5) wish to encourage me to undertake a ranking of public bars with piss-weak criteria such as “ambience” and “juke box selection” — I point out, Gary, that ambience is the assemblage of company, and that juke box selection is an activity in context, and that the Duke of York’s tap beer is not demonstrably gasier;

(6) hope to elicit advertisement that the carrot cake is better in Hay (why?)

(a) anyway, why all the food stuff?

(b) and lack of foodstuff;

(7) demand that I apologise for anti-western humour (it was an occident);

(8) try to reason with me about (7), which surely I should understand was worse than the Duke’s gas;

(9) call me the pessimist.

Response: I’ll tell you tomorrow.



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Innovation rules

Tuesday November 07th 2006, 6:52 am
Filed under: the wagga blagga

Tuesday November 07th

Yes folks, this blo/ag is the proud developer of an official neologism, and one which has one only unique inimitable single appearance on an improperly tested search engine sample. The word is:

diseluviation n the unsettling or refloating of previously settled soil or other precipitated matter from its bed. antonym: eluviation

See below or here for the word’s use in context.

LSO’s shining Crowshow

Monday November 06th 2006, 9:56 pm
Filed under: the wagga blagga

Monday November 06th

Here’s hoping you weren’t amongst those who missed the London Symphony’s exhilarating performance of Shostakovich’s brilliant and remarkable Eighth Symphony at the Civic last night!

The talk all week had been whether Previn himself (who hadn’t flown from Singapore with the orchestra) would wield the baton on the night. Amazingly, this remained secret right up until the dimming of the theatre: even the program itself was silent on who would stand on the podium.

Then, picking his way towards centre stage (between the mostly assembled elements of the Civic’s forthcoming Yusuf Islam show) was the grinning Andre himself.

It took four and a half minutes or so – let’s say, for the sake of music,  4min33sec – for the delighted applause to fade. I distinctly heard a couple of members of the brass section shushing.

I’m sure the Civic has rarely been so blessed. There is no other word for Previn’s account of the Third Movement than “mesmerising”. Mravinsky himself would have wept (as did I) at the haunting power Previn drew from his cellos.

Afterwards, I was fortunate enough to join Andre and select strings players for pizza and a glass or three of the (recommended) Charles Sturt 2003 Pinot Gris. One of my best evenings since moving to Wagga Wagga. Five stars.



Needle in digit

Saturday November 04th 2006, 10:11 pm
Filed under: the wagga blagga

Saturday November 04th

As though in punishment for my minor role in Bingley’s cattle-shootin’ (see below or click here), I have developed a condition known as “trigger finger”. It’s not agonising, but is painful enough to wake me several times a night. Choose your phrasing carefully. (Also a swollen eye from cause or causes unknown and unassociated with any recent posts; hence not further mentioned.)


Here’s a crappy image of the effect. Click on the image for a genuine explanation on the site it was lifted from. The usually effective cure is a shot of cortisone, and Wagga Wagga Base Hospital would have provided me with such a treatment if this blog were the least bit credible, of which I am not sufficiently objective to judge.

I had the shot yesterday morning, cortisone mixed with some anaesthetic which made the finger numb and tingly, a sensation more suited to the head on a Saturday night (ie, right now). The finger has not yet shown itself to be cured, and still locks in the clenched position then clicks open – but Dr T explained it may take some few weeks to determine the efficacy of the treatment.

If the head were numb and tingly it would be considering the resonance of Wagga Wagga and Trigga Finga. Bingley is off to Europe in three days now (or, as he insists on specifying, Britain). He will miss meeting everyone at unsound06 as he phrases it, “through happenstance and deliberation.”

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