Translated quotes.

"Extremely confrontational and disturbing grab at attention, of which humour is the intended byproduct." Said John Safran.

"Smug smug [Aboriginal word] smug [traditional landowners] smug." Said John Butler.

"Something very funny, for a female." Said Tina Fey.

"RT @myotheraccount: Something funny I said before." Said the self-promoters.

"Remember Merrick & Rosso in like, 99? A bit like that." Said Scott Dooley.

"Another Monday, another public apology for the gross sexual misconduct of others." Said David Gallop.

"Something inspired but obvious in a newly gentrified suburb." Said the (sydney) magazine.

"My own appropriation of Richie Benaud's voice, but with swear words." Said The Twelfth Man.

"Slightly irritating, but infallibly accurate prose, y'all." Said Carles.

"Slightly irritating, and irrelevant prose." Said Sam de Brito.

"A joke in the same realm as 'man's voice raising an octave after he is hit in crotch.'" Said Rove McManus.

"What it was like growing up as a druggy hardcore kid with Catholic guilt, in a way that makes you wish you were there." Said The Hold Steady.

"A series of statements and interviews that make it quite apparent that I don't really 'get me' yet." Said Ruby Rose.

"Cute reference, cute reference, cute reference, cute reference!" Said the bike-riding girls of Surry Hills.

"Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nunc sagittis tortor nec est aliquam vitae egestas tellus ornare. Sed tempor justo convallis lacus ornare dictum." Said Andrew G.

"Heaps boring description." Said Tim Winton.

"The same thing I said on Glass House three years ago - made to sound spontaneous by my desperation and visible anxiety." Said Wil Anderson.

"Lifted directly from AAP, but with a fresh spelling mistake of our own." Said SMH online.

"Come hang with me on Sunday, or you will burn for all eternity." Said the new wave of Christian teenagers.

"SEO." Said the earnest social media expert.

"LOL." Said the earnest social media expert.

"A stack of longneck bottles with some ironing boards and crap I found welded all together." Said a Contemporary Artist.

"Lateral humour inside layered meta-narratives, all the while apologising for being so self-conscious of everything that has come before us." Said McSweeneys.

"Something down-to-earth as I casually wander by. Probably around Five-Ways." Said Hugo Weaving.

"(Complete silence since '08)." Said Samantha Brett.

---

* Did I miss anything? Feel free to add them in the comments.

(This is my first attempt at 'crowd-sourcing content.' I feel a bit weird.)

The act of Sedaris-ing a job interview.

I am putting together my 'book' to try and get a 'proper job.'

It has been recommended that I put some of my own writing in, to get some idea of who I am. I already know who I am (sick writer/heaps funny).

I have spent some time recently trying to curate a selection of work from this blog, to put in an A3 folder so I can show it to people who don't really have the time/patience to read it.

Ideally I would replace the A3 folder with a podium and the Creative Director with a Recital Hall full of pleased people in glasses aged 20-40.

*Literary technique: narrative voice shifts to focus inward.*

Me just up on stage in a tie. A bunch of things I'd written printed out and tucked into my shirt pocket. Crowd all clapping and excited to hear me read things out.

So I get on stage and start just freestyle talking. I'm just riffing on pop culture and strange mannerisms - Jesus is my family weird, by the way. Did you know that I used to work - get this - in the middle of the night! I slept all day! Isn't that super depressing?

Did I mention that they flew in Corinne Grant just to warm up the crowd and ask me a few questions? Brendan Cowell was there too man. Tonight was seminal. Tonight was one of those nights that you have to submit a copy of to the State Library.

So I finish my bit and wait a few moments. I can here a guy in the back repeatedly yelling: 'He couldn't have used more correct words to say those things!'

Judith Lucy joins me back on stage for the Q&A bit of the evening. I'm a bit worried she's going to make a joke about masturbating. Thankfully she just gets on with the questions:

'So what kind of job are you after?'
'Ah, copywriter. As junior as possible, please.'

The Recession is CANCELLED.

I wandered through to a pretty courtyard area out the back, and took a seat. There was a student-looking girl reading a dog-eared paperback. I sat there for a full 10 minutes before realising that you're meant to order at the counter. I gave the student girl a quick smile as to say: 'ya reckon you and Dostoevsky can watch my possessions while I go order a coffee? Thank you.*'

*Don't you think I could write for a weekend newspaper supplement? I think I could. So that's what I'm doing now. My first column is going to be about how other parents (I have two small children) turn up their nose when we arrive at birthday parties with vintage presents. Of course, our close inner-city circle are on the same page, it's the corporate, straight-laced friends friends that don't get it.

Me: I have an aesthetic. I know what I want.

Them: What's that? I'm so uncreative.

Me: I know. I'm actually pretty suprised we're friends.

---

A big thank you to everyone who has dropped by BCorTM for a monthly-ish (formerly fortnightly-ish) dose of Recession-based words. I can't believe I've been writing about the Global Financial Crisis since, like, May 2005?

I'm sad to shut this blog down. It is (directly or indirectly) responsible for every piece of writing I have ever done. From the time I tried to write like Douglas Adams, to the time I tried to write like David Sedaris, to the time I tried to write like Patrick White, to the time I tried to post a photo of David from BB06 - BCorTM has been my vehicle.

'What a gay vehicle,' people said.

So I looked The Presets directly in the eye and said: 'get off the stage and say that, The Presets.'

James Vs The Recession V

The month of June was great for me. I forgot about The Recession.

Not only did I not post/fight – I relaxed. I let my shoulders slump into the ‘freelance space’ I keep in the gap between the hot water system and the indoor clothes rack.

No longer did I get down on my knees to urinate for fear of making noise. I abandoned the dread associated with living life as a failed smug artisan* and relaxed into my new position as Founder & Creative Director of An Actual Arts Festival (AAF)!

I couldn’t believe what I had achieved. I had fallen into a position that only people who shop/eat at Fratelli Fresh/Dank St Depot could ever hope to appreciate. Creative Director! That is like the ‘parsnip confit’ of jobs. I actually have a reasonable chance of being asked what my favourite things are by the Good Weekend!** I was overjoyed. I waved my arms in the air, running laps of the house, screaming.
‘This must be what it’s like to be married to Cate Blanchett!’

The harsh reality:
The full impact of the Recession has yet to even hit us. My festival is in serious danger of having to cut the exhibition of light sculptures I commissioned from the singer from Anthony & The Johnsons. In addition, my proposal to hold the display in Eveleigh St, Redfern has been met with a degree of criticism (mostly from the white community, it should be noted).

The solution:
Please, don’t relax. The Recession is hard for all of us – particularly those of us working with budgetary constraints of an international Arts event. We must be constantly looking over our shoulders? Always remember: air is for nervously breathing, life is for cautiously living, bone is for sucking the marrow out of on the proviso it is non-cancerous. And just like Clover Moore says at the beginning of every AAF meeting: ‘it isn’t a dick measuring contest, James.’

-

*Do you have University-level knowledge of cheeses, but get paid $18.70 an hour to stand behind a counter at Simon Johnson/Thomas Dux/etc – your eager advice falling on disinterested, upwardly mobile ears?
Are you willing to stir an ‘old fashioned’ for 15 minutes, even when out on the rack on ‘hospo Mondays’?
Do you hide the packets of Equal in your workplace because it’s about ‘training the customer?’

**This has been very hard to pick… You don’t want to be pretentious, but then you really do. The basic rule of thumb (I have discussed this with Brendan Cowell, and several other Cs) is to pick something old and ‘grandparenty’ as your number one… Don’t open with, like, a bespoke red resin bathtub by Dinosaur Designs (you’ll look like a complete Cowell).

James VS The Recession IV

I have spent the best part of the last month 'frumping' about in my crisp Peter Alexanders, moaning about unemployment rates and The National Deficits.

'I hate The Recession!' I said. 'I'm not going to get out of bed until a female friend comes over and tells me that I'm not ugly.'

'You don't have any female friends, James.' My better judgement said. 'You've never liked women, remember? In fact, in the back of your mind you suspect you may be one of those suppressed gays, like the military dad from American Beauty.'

'That's true! Thanks for cheering my up, Better Judgement.'

I bounded out the front door, laughing and eating chips and shouting at women as I went.

Since I started going to AWARD school, I take ideas generation very seriously. If I was going to draw blood in this fight against The Recession I would need black Artline pens and A3 bleedproof drawing pads immediately. 

I made a quick stop at the newsagent on Devonshire St, approaching the man at the counter, 'one of each please,' I said.

'One each of what?'

This was not good enough. I'm ashamed to say that, although he wasn't a woman, I physically lashed out at him. I grabbed him by the front of his sweater. 'Listen here sir,' I said. 'It is absolutely essential that I get what I need today. There will be no ink bleeding on my pad, do you hear?'

'Ah, A3 bleedproof pad for you then sir?'

'Please. And I might also take two cans of Mother. It will be like a quadruple hit of energy, no?'

I didn't have time to wait for his response. I walked out of the door, crossed Elizabeth street and entered into Belmore Park. It was nearly empty, which was good, as under my thin cotton pyjamas I was naked as hell.

There was one man standing on the grass, doing some kind of homeless Philosophy to himself. I decided to join his one-man conversation. What a great opportunity for ideas generation!

'You called the screws on me dintcha (sic). You fucken dog!'

I did my best to get into character. 'I did no such thing, sir. I hate the screw myself, you see! They're all swine!*'

'You ruined my bloody stake. We had a stake, you and me!' He said.

'Don't worry, sir. As soon as this Recession finishes up, we'll get our own stake, just the two of us. I have some cash saved up from unskilled labour. I don't eat much, and I'd be happy to do such as plant corn and the less manly jobs. I ensure you wouldn't hear but a peep out of me.'

'You lied to my face, you dog!'

Now I was bored. Still though, what about my own talent!

Did you noticed how I just 'sampled' some incidental noise and used it to make a conversation? Imagine if I could use my this talent to find a solution to The Recession? You know, crowd-sourced content, user-generated content, flip cameras, CMS, public space, messing with expectations, start-up company, follow a band round for a day, blogs, myspace, lighting up the Opera House, performances in obscure locations, blogs, people from Iceland.

'Wait a minute!' I said. 'I've got it!'

I pulled out my phone... 'Hello, Mayor's office please. Tell her it's James. Thank you. Clover? Babe, how are you? Now listen. Free up your diary for the 3rd of November and bring your best scissors... Why?'

I turned around dramatically and cracked seal on the second can of Mother: 'because I'm putting on an Arts festival.'

TBC

* I had to project my voice, as I was over 50m away.

In between 'Recessions' post: bits from the drafts folder.

I decided to take  a quick break from fighting the Recession. I obviously needed to write an inspirational speech for the students at my former high school, and also relished the rare opportunity to Do Recreation that the ceasefire afforded me.

The speech hasn't come quite along quite as far as I might have hoped; I'm stuck on the first two sections... Two and a half weeks later this is all I have:

Part 1: The economic crisis rundown (to be read really slowly, with finger pointing).

The reason we (the world) are in this financial mess is simple: our greed has caused debt. We have placed having things on a pedestal (a pedestal that did not consider the cost of these things when we bought them).

 So how do we deal with The Recession as individuals? Of course it would make sense for everyone to 'spend spend spend,' and gradually 'hoik' the US back into the black - but the case by case reality is never so simple. 
As columnist and award winning author Peter Fitzsimons put it: 'Control yourself/Take only what you neeeeeed from it.'

Part 2: My best friend came out to me on Schoolies week. What should I do?

 Oh man, heavy. Gay guys are fine - stop being homophobic... Oh God, it's a girl? Well, that's completely different. The high school boy's idea of lesbianism is completely different to the reality. It's mostly big chunky shoes and jeans with no back pockets. All finding a gathering of more than one 20-something male completely offensive, and nothing to chuckle along with. 

---

I also did some Journalism in the park on the weekend... Here are some vox pops:

James: So how are you today, sir?

Uni Student Squatter: Okay.

James: Your hair is interesting. Tell me about this.

S: I don't feel that I have to justify it to you.

J: Really? I feel the need to justify everything. Anyway, all I asked was if you could tell me about it.

S: It's got bits of green and purple, some dreadlocks and some braids.

J: Indeed.

James: So how are you today, sir?

Old man: I'm quite good, thank you James*

J: What do you perceive are the main problems in this area?

O: The drugs. Too many young fellas on drugs.

J: (nodding) Yes, yes. Adorably put. What other problems are there?

*I have a jumper (made by Jess) with my name sewn on the front. I was wearing it.

James: Hey, how are you?

19 year old Girl: Good thanks.

J: Did you party pretty hard last night?

19: Yeah, we ended up at a tattoo parlour in the Cross!

J: Woah did you get anything?

19: No, but - 

J: But you talked about it HEAPS didn't you? But you keep justifying how you can get a particular thing tattooed on you because you've liked it for ages, and you will always be into it? Even though your taste and fashion sense has changed every six months since you were 11? You mean like that?

19: No not -

J: Do you also spend half your time at parties with a cigarette in your hand, explaining to people that you hardly ever smoke? 

---

My life is mostly made up. This conversation with a homeless man, like nearly every other, never happened... Or did it (it didn't)?:

'$2000! Do you know what you could get for that much?'

'I don't know? Groceries for a year? A wall clock from David Met Nicole?  You could probably book Bang Gang to DJ for 40 minutes.'

'Being intentionally shallow again, are you lad?'

'Yes, that's the way I decided to take this.'

---

Sometimes life is hard. These are titles of posts I was going to write before life got too Difficult:

* There are children starving in Africa - Hello there, black stranger (reprise).
* I saw Kim Beazley speak on Sunday night at my Nan's church hall and was very impressed.

* 'Dishing out Justice'  - an upcoming feature article in one of those online music magazines. Check your junk folder.

* 'Up There Cazaly': A History of Things Peter Fitzsimons Might Say,
*'Sydney needs more wine-bars' (and similar) Broadsheet Lift-out Opinion Piece Generator Version 1.0.

---

THINGS A GOOD HOUSE PARTY NEEDS:

1. A boy nicknamed Smackers who is "furious":
"Yeeew! How are ya Smackers?"
"Boys, I'm furious!"

James VS The Recession III

They say people go through a series of different stages (eg shock, denial, rage) when dealing with The Recession. If handing out business cards to people lining up outside Billy Kwong's was a 'stage' in my coping strategy, I had certainly moved on (ran out of business cards).

I returned home and worked on Some Projects, before retiring early. The following morning I arose and checked my To Do list - zero items. I wandered down to Bourke Street Bakery to get coffee and something to eat. It cheered me up to see a long queue of people spilling out the door, waiting to pay too much for things. 'What recession?' They said (with their souls). What recession, indeed.

I sat across the road in the park and drank my coffee. It was a glorious day. The Recession couldn't take that away from me. I'm going to get myself behind some Philadelphia cheese today, I remember thinking at the time. 'Ah, my dear friend Life! Why do you throw me such straight, easy to hit balls?'

 All of a sudden my phone rang*. It was a private number, so I answered in an English accent. 'Hallo?' I said.

'Ah, hello, is that James Ross-Edwards?'

'It is.' I said. 'What is thouth name, madam?'

'Hello James, this is the school secretary from your old high school, how are you?'

I couldn't believe it. 'Are you the one from sick bay?'

'No, I only started last year.'

‘I’m confused…’

'The "Sister" works in the sick bay. I'm the secretary. I am calling on behalf of the Headmaster. He would like to invite you back to the school to address Year 12 students on entering the real world at the end of this year. That is, if you'd be interested.'

'I see. How long should the performance go for?'

'It's just a speech - around 15 minutes I'd imagine? It's during assembly.'

 I won’t bore you with the further details, but it was settled. I rushed home immediately and began preparing my speech. I started out by writing a piecemeal series of dot points containing various things I know about the real world. In order to engage with the intended audience, I tried to keep in mind things that year 12 students would probably find cool. Here is the my research from that day:

THE REAL WORLD – Some points by James Ross-Edwards:

1. People generally get way more interested in fonts after high school. This is regardless of gender, so applies to ALL of you. I can strongly recommend that you all invest in a black t-shirt with the world ‘helvetica’ written on the front.

2. Dudes are always raving about Europe. You should probably all try that out at some point. Like when you are on summer break from your GAP year where you work in an English boarding school and learn so much about the world.

3. Once when I was 18, I arrived home to my parent’s house late at night and there was a guy trying to break into the house. He said he was just looking for a drink of water, but I knew what was going on.

4. Every couple of years you will meet someone you can’t quite place. They are full of contradictions, may have an accent that doesn’t match where they grew up and don’t appear to have a set group of friends or social context. They are willing to drop everything immediately to become your best friend.

a) The person works as a security guard at a pub/night club:

Don’t stress this is normal. If necessary, request that they don’t show you their photos of dead people in Iraq… The conversation will probably go like this:

You: Hey, how you going?

Them: Wanna see my Land Rover?

You: ... Wow, it’s a nice one!

Them: I also have a Harley Davidson.

You: Okay, I’m not really equipped to appreciate that though. My main bragging point is that it’s 2003 and I know who the Kings Of Leon are.

Them: I take a bath every single day.

You: Sweet man, that could be fun.

Them: If you ever need anything like eccies, go or blow, I can sort you out.

You: You can tell we have different ideas about the world because your nicknames for party drugs make me feel uncomfortable.

            b) The person does not work as a security guard:

If this person is of the opposite sex (or you are a gay), you should pash them. These people are way easier to pick up than the people you went to school with. This may be because of their insecurities. It could also be because they dissolve half a gram of speed into their Mount Franklin bottle each morning. Earlier in life they probably excelled at something like ballet or child acting - they never ever mention this. Their fashion sense is inexplicable. 

 If, when you mention a local band to them they recoil in horror, all ‘DO NOT MENTION THAT BAND IN FRONT OF ME! NEVER EVER!’ Ask them why. You may want to start a blog.

TBC...