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Oh my.

Is this pop? Or fripper[ous]? No. But what started as garden-variety homophobia has descended into some beautiful farce. The more this man talks the funner it gets. While initially Jason Akermanis‘ argument as to why gay men in the AFL should stay in the closet revolved around their own well-being, the potential disruption to team morale an outing might cause, and the rather strange suggestion that the AFL need not strive to be role models. But in subsequent interviews the emphasis seems to be on one thing and one thing only. That male footballers are naked together much of the time. And that they enjoy special things like slapping each other on the arse and ‘just having a bit of fun’. And if there were to be gay men in their midst, these activities might start to seem a little bit gay. Core argument: to allow football to remain homoerotic, gay men should stay in the closet. Wow.

‘When you’re slapping blokes on the bum and just having a bit of fun, what would that do to a man in there when you actually work out, ‘Oh wait a second, wait a second. I don’t know if I can handle that guy’

Jason Akermanis, The Age.

I’m excited. But also scared and afraid of disappointment.

I love this so much.

Sade seems to be only slightly more productive than Kate Bush, but Soldier of Love is a really promising taste of her/their first album since 2000’s Lover’s Rock. Whereas By Your Side, one of my all time favourite songs, carried a beautifully soft sentiment of compassion and loyalty (complemented by Sophie Muller’s perfectly judged clip), Soldier of Love lays its cards on the table from the opening lyric: “I’ve lost the use of my heart but I’m still alive”. Yikes. The arrangement has a real bite to it, and while the metaphors verge on the trite, there’s at least a real honesty to their sentiment. Not sure if I’m according things with more artistry than strictly present — it’s hard not to confuse Sade’s beauty and presence with the actual work. Indeed, shocking that she’s now 51. Shows one can age gracefully even without giant cheek-orbs and filler.


Umm, so Michael Jackson died. And I feel strangely unmoved. Obviously I feel terrible for his kids who will no doubt be launched into an even more intensely surreal circus, and I feel sad that a man has died, but in terms of Michael Jackson the icon dying, I don’t really feel much at all. And I think it’s because for a while now Michael Jackson, the legend, had ceased to need Michael Jackson, the person, to tend to make it real. So when I hear Billie Jean I won’t feel sad that Michael Jackson has died, but will just think it’s a really awesome song.

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