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.
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).