Author Archives: justin

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LapTopping – The Bit Long, Official E-zine of The Bedroom Philosopher
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ISSUE 66
Wednesday September 17 2008
Estimated Reading Time: 12:21. (Did you know, it takes you longer to read LapTopping on a sunny day because you’re more likely to get distracted by colleagues asking you to play Frisbee?)

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LT BIRTHDAYS

Happy Birthday Baz Luhrmann 46 today!
Happy Birthday Anastacia 35 today!

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SONG TO GET STUCK IN YOUR HEAD OF THE DAY

Jeremy Jordan – Right Kind Of Love

“It’s the right kind of love
It’s the right kind of night
You’re the right kind of girl”

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RESPONSES TO LAPTOPPING #65

Susan:
“Enjoyed your recent e-zine but cannot help but read between the lines that all has not been smooth in your life lately. Also wanted to welcome you to the ‘JUSTATAD’ CLUB – also known as:
Jokers Unite! – Seriously Talented Artists Take Anti Depressants! I think the follow up is the list of all the most talented comics (the geniuses) of the world who had Depression – John Cleese, Spike Milligan……………and so on. Upon reading this, you will find yourself feeling a LOT BETTER, after all, it is a nice list to be associated with.”

Andrew:
“Hey Justin, That was intense. I’m getting a bit worried about you- I sincerely hope you’re ok…
…and 2: you could think about maybe trimming down your LapTopping emails… you’ve got plenty of content- though I often don’t have the energy to finish reading the whole thing… maybe smaller chunks more often instead of huge documents less often?”

Katie:
“I hope you don’t mind but I just wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed this issue of LapTopping 🙂 And it seemed to arrive at just the right time too. Due to numerous reasons I have been feeling very bitter towards life in general and reading STORYTIME felt like delicious banana flavoured kids antibiotics medicine on my bronchitis ridden soul. It was relieving to know that there is perhaps even just one person (you!) who feels as bitter as me about things. Something about kindred spirits…anyway thank-you for writing LapTopping and sending it! the whole thing was excellent and very enjoyable to read :)”

Everyone who has a letter published gets a metaphysical kitten badge, and goes in the major draw to win a hand massage and Bedroom Philosopher hamper.
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KILLER FIRST LINES FOR NOVELS

Frank couldn’t decide which was worse, the angry black flames that spewed from the hull of the cruise ship, or the Jesus shaped Midori stain on his blouse.

Melody Baker negotiated her robot suit much like a child negotiates a massive pile of jackets they’ve had thrown on them; not all together gracefully, but with a tenacity that can only come from being plunged into a self-imposed darkness – regardless, she was a child of the late 2090’s and she was as determined as ever to beat her rival Beatrice Wizzlewang at super tennis.

Rodriguez was the bravest pirate cat there was, but watching sea water slosh into the last bag of dry biscuits could drive even the hardest of bandit mascots to madness.

I lost my virginity on a quiz show.

This is a story not about love or death, of trials or questions unanswered, it is simply the story of how one man invented a skateboarding trick that captured the imagination of the queen of Spain.

“I’m inside!” Screamed Gavin, who’s thirty years of controversial scientific research had finally paid off, converting his human form into a zip file of complex data that was now ‘taking a stroll’ through the Windows 95 mainframe.

The moonlight reflected off her rain soaked glasses, like a miner’s torch reflects off a cave wall, as she lay on the picnic blanket listening to the canaries of the Amazon sing a ten part harmony that sounded like a ring tone for mother earth herself.

If I told you that the basement level of my cordial factory harboured a laser guided battle rocket destined for the planet K-Mart, you probably wouldn’t believe me.

The contents of Mildred’s thermos flew into her face like a milky ghoul.

‘Get the space bananas!’ screamed Captain Zaxxon, for the holodeck gorilla was indeed going apeshit.

I awoke, tied to the trampoline, wearing only a Shania Twain t-shirt, with the sound of flashbulbs in my ears, again.

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GUERILLAGRAMS!

Great moments in unsolicited conversation.

From Hugh Rabinovici, Melbourne.

My friend Cam gave me a lift into school and for his troubles I bought him a “nippy’s” iced coffee from the university cafeteria.

Shop Lady: That will be $2.50.
Me: I’m buying a “nippy’s” for my friend.
Shop Lady:
Me: This is my friend Cam, he gave me a lift to school.
Shop Lady:
Me: So I’m buying him a “nippy’s.”
Shop Lady:

SEND US YOUR GUERILLAGRAMS!

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INANIMATE OBJECT BEREAVEMENT NOTICES

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DIED
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From Telia Nevile, Melbourne.

“My discman, that has replaced the CD player in my stereo for years immemorial has finally bitten it. Its years of faithful service have not gone unnoticed and its loss is deeply felt. More so due to its origins – it came in a mega-present box given to me for my 18th by my first true love. Please join me in a moment of silence as I trudge to the kitchen once again to put on a CD instead of being able to just reach across my bed.”

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WE PRAY FOR THEIR RECALIBRATION
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INANIMATE OBJECT NOTICES ARE RUNNING OUT?
DO YOU KNOW SOMEONE WHO’S LOST AN INANIMATE OBJECT LATELY?
laptopping @ bedroomphilosopher.com

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GET A WRIGGLE ON GOOGLET!

Several phrases people have typed into Google to land on my website lately:

FUNFACT: “The world is f@#$ed” was the 8th most popular phrase to find my site in August!

“why philosophers are arrogants”
“pictures of girls blowing up inflatable things”
“sandra sully caps”
“making a small bedroom a media center”
“lonely singles”
“depressed about my haircut”
“voltron lion force chat rooms”
“we will rock youim a little tea pot lyrics”
“who plays the theme from a country practice”
“bob hawke seat belt”
“dream interpretation of a fork”
“apologising to parents and wishing happy birthday”
“justin heazlewood next ezine i want in” (can’t tell you how creepy this is)
“the coke bottle chick in Kalgoorlie”
“melbourne warhead lollie factory”
“how to clean ribena from carpet”
“crumbed chops”
“wow wow dog la la la triple j” (ha! The single is alive)

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TIME IS CHEESE AND MOUSE IS HUNGRY!

Be amazed by Theo Jansen – Kinetic Sculptor.

For lovers of Procrastination.

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A GIGGLE OF GIGS

(Sorted by city for your convenience)

BRISBANE

• SATURDAY SEPTEMBER 20. POST MODERN PICNIC (SINGLE LAUNCH)
Featuring Brisbane’s underground lovelies:
Mikki Ross, Stefanie Petrik, Zenobia Frost, Bertie Page.
JOYnt Café. 48 Montague Road. South Brisbane. $8. 2pm-5pm. ALL AGES
• SATURDAY SEPTEMBER 20. Brisbane Fringe Festival closing night. I’ll be appearing at 10:30pm. Saturday September 21.
• SUNDAY SEPTEMBER 21. Livewired Comedy Concern. Brisbane Powerhouse. I’ll be headlining from 7pm. ALL AGES.

SYDNEY

• TUESDAY SEPTEMBER 30. Comedy On The Edge – Hotel William. 49 William Street. 8pm. $10. Headlining from 9:30pm
• THURSDAY OCTOBER 2. Mic In Hand – Friend In Hand Hotel. Cowper Street, Glebe. $10. Headlining from 9:30pm.
• WEDNESDAY OCTOBER 22. SINGLE LAUNCH. Hopetoun Hotel. Bourke St, Surry Hills. Featuring the amazing Pterodactyl Man and bitingly hilarious Josh Earl. 8pm. $8.

NEWCASTLE (THIS IS NOT ART FESTIVAL)

• THURSDAY OCTOBER 3. Appearing on the panel ‘Funny Ha Ha or just Funny?’ 1:30pm
• FRIDAY OCTOBER 4. Performing my serious stuff as “Windsor Flare” at Cab Sav, in the Festival Club.
• SATURDAY OCTOBER 5. MCing TINA anthology launch. 6:30pm.
• SATURDAY OCTOBER 4. Performing in ‘Masquerade Ball’ from 8pm.

MELBOURNE

• WEDNESDAY OCTOBER 8. Headlining Uni of Melbourne comedy night. (The wonderful Hannah Gadsby is also on). Raymond Preistly Room, Union House. 7pm.
• THURSDAY OCTOBER 23. SINGLE LAUNCH. Northcote Social Club. 2 sets, one solo, one with The Awkwardstra. Support from the cold-hearted killer of whimsy Josh Earl. 8:30pm. $8.
• WEDNESDAY OCTOBER 29. Performing my serious stuff as “Windsor Flare.” With the lovely Emily Mae and the Alarm Belles and the surprisingly reflective Josh Earl. $5. 8pm.

HOBART

• WEDNESDAY NOVEMBER 5. SINGLE LAUNCH. Brisbane Hotel. With Charles Du Cane. (His stuff is amazing (http://www.myspace.com/charlesducane). 8pm. $8.
• SATURDAY NOVEMBER 8. Some kind of beer festival. Regatta Showgrounds. Details pending.
• SUNDAY NOVEMBER 9. Lewisham Tavern. 3pm. Details pending.

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STORYTIME

(Brought to you by Lowest Common Denominator Soundsystem. Beats. Bravado. Brooklyn. Get on board poser or your status will be ‘missed out.’)

When I was fifteen I recorded my first album of songs. This was done in my bedroom, on a little cassette walkman with a stereo microphone blu-takked to the indoor clothesline. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I aimed to nail each track in one take, but I’d usually stuff up somewhere along the line and have to rewind back to the start. I tried ‘dropping in’ halfway through a song, but it left me with more pops and clicks than a retirement home. Naturally, the recording’s were no-fi and dusted with tape hiss, but they captured the essence of the songs, and the whole process prepared me for many of the factors a musician in the studio can face.

I gave the album a title ‘Ad-Liberation’ (my affinity with puns blossomed from an early age) and cover art, made up of a wobbly texta drawing of the planet earth with arms holding a sign that read ‘the end is nigh.’ (A sense of pre-millennium tension as early as 1995.) The songs themselves were structurally ambitious, usually running over five minutes in length, with about eight verses and a prog-folk ‘strum solo,’ (a genre created by the cat sitting on the lyrics.) The subject matter was equally bold. One song ‘I Will Never Leave You’ was about a father returning home from war while another ‘Thought She Loved Me’ was an angsty break-up ballad including the immortal lines ‘I loved you (x4). All of this from someone who’s only kiss so far had been their greatest hits. I just figured that’s what songs had to be about, like an emotional version of playing dress-ups.

While my production values were primitive, I still strived to improve my sound. In 1996 I experimented by moving my studio into the bathroom as I liked the acoustics better. The odd feeling of sitting on the toilet with the seat down kept me alert, and I informed Mum if she was going to knock on the door then it had to be in 4/4 time. In Grade Ten, when my peers were playing NBA Jam and making prank calls, I was singing about existentialism. “Time moves so fast, you forget who you are.” I was a wise old sage with a bowl cut and a Kuta Lines polar fleece.

I never suffered too much anxiety when it came to listening back to the recordings. I’d always been fine with hearing my own voice, and felt safe hanging out inside my own sonic cubbyhouse. Playing them for my family was a different matter. Add a human to the mix and the songs became instantly embarrassing. I’d press play on the stereo before running outside and hiding under the trampoline. Listening to the tapes recently, I could have sworn they were done on high speed dubbing, but no, my voice really was that high. At that stage the only balls dropping were the ones hit to me at cricket.

I look back on those days with fondness, when music was an activity that I did for the sheer joy it gave me. There was no business side to consider, or performance schedule to maintain. There was no chance to over think or overcook the recordings. The songs rolled off the guitar already finished, all I had to do was catch the butterfly in the net. It’s good to have that texta drawn blueprint for simplicity, reminding me of the power of unaccompanied guitar and voice, and the days when I’d sit watching the tape wheels go round and round, fantasising about my own time in the sun.

THE END.

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LAYTOPING IS MISPELLED, AND FREE! WHAT A GREAT GIFT IDEA, AND IT’LL CUT YOUR ENERGY BILLS IN HALF! SEND IT TO A FRIEND!

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NOTICE & DISCLAIMER:

This eflail and any fileywileys halfwitted with it are existential and intended solely
for the indie-visual or mentity to whom they are undressed.

If you have deceived this e-flail by pisstake, please ratify the sender by perturbed eflail
and release this massage from your cistern. LapTopping Enterprises in conjunctivitis with The Shadow Treasurer of the Four Knights of Rural Tasmania Development Funds Limited and Sons shall snot be pliable for the chimproper or gincomplete transmission vamp of the ginformation and tonic contained in his nibbs communionication nor for any relay in its receipt nor damage to your cistern. As Jenny Lewis and The Dirty Three said respectively ‘you are what you love / whatever you love, you are.’

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DON’T FORGET –

“It’s the right kind of love
It’s the right kind of night
You’re the right kind of girl”

PS – Could you do me a favour and request Wow Wow’s Song on JJJ’s Super Request. Ta.
http://www.abc.net.au/triplej/requests/make_a_request.htm