Interview: The Reich Stuff
Economics: Crime and Punishment
Environment: Beyond The Wedge
International: The End Of The Lucky Country
Safety: Tests Fail Tests
Politics: Labo(u)r Day
Human Rights: Arabian Lights
History: Labour's Titan
Review: Foxy Fiasco
Poetry: Then I Saw The Light
The Locker Room
What’s In a Name?
Shearers Brush Woolly Mammoths
Staff, Trees Weather the Blame
Environment Wiped Out In Dubbo
Let's Start A New Party
Labor Council of NSW
The Locker Room
In Naming Rights Only
The Locker Room has been siting stupefied in front of the TV around at a mate's place of late, and has been noticing an astonishing number of product mentions, especially those that are getting to the gratuitous stage.
It came to a head when this column was heading up to Gowings to check out their extraordinarily fine quality suits that area available at astonishingly reasonable prices.
Gowings, conveniently located in George Street in the City (now that's got to be worth a suit), does seem to feature prominently in at least one cable TV sports show.
The presenter is want to bore us all senseless with information about Gowings (How about a shirt then?) and how well dressed everyone who goes to Gowings (a pair of pants maybe?) appears to be.
Now, this would all make sense if the Locker Room was tuned into Foxtus to catch up on some fashion advice, but unfortunately it was merely an attempt, foolish as it turns out in hindsight, to gain some information vis-à-vis some sportage.
Needless to say, despite propelling an empty container from the wonderful people at Carlton and United (how about a slab then?) at the said presenters visage all that continued to spew forth from his cakehole was more dribble about Gowings (not even a pair of socks?).
Speaking of Foxtus, Australia's premier cable provider, their new digital option has got to be one of life's more hollow experiences.
No doubt the marketing gurus down at Pyrmont are trying to figure out as to why the take up rate for cable in Australia is running at about the same levels as the Ross River Virus, but with none of the popularity.
Well, this column may not know a lot about television, but it knows what it hates, and that's having 852 channels to choose from, and each one is showing some steaming pile of goat's droppings.
Especially when some Poona on a sports channel is spending half the program gassing on about Gowings (You tight bastards! Not even a handkerchief!).
Cable TV is a gyp. Especially the "interactive" function, which is neither!
It does seem to be engaging in a bit of self-indulgence that most of us grow out of after our teenage years.
And while we're on the Sin Of Onan, Basketball has reared its ugly head again.
Why this is a sport escapes me completely. Watching a few people with glandular problems trading shooting practice with an undersized medicine ball for an hour before the whole thing explodes into action in the last ten seconds strikes this column as bearing a resemblance to an activity that Father O'Grady used to warn would send us blind.
Which would go some way to explaining why Australian Basketball currently has no naming rights sponsor, not even Gowings
Phil Doyle - turning down a vigorous appeal for a caught behind
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