Just came home from seeing a mate Colin and his band Quern play at the Hopetoun in Surry Hills. I think his band is really coming along nicely. Couple of beers, nice. The Hopetoun is a bit of a shit hole, truth be told. It should probably be called the "Abandon all Hopetoun." Writ in blood in letters large across the entrance. Dank, smelly with a proponderance of matt black splashed about the place. As you leave the bar there is a doorway with a set of stairs going almost straight down to another bar called "the Pit." I confess I very nearly fell headlong down the bloody thing. No doubt coming face to face with Judas encased in a block of ice, or Han Solo in a block of carbonite.
My old flat mate, band mate and school mate Rossco gave me a lift along with his fiance Jo. As I was out the front waiting for them a police car cruised past three times. I was actually hoping they would ask if I lived around here, so I could tell them yes, hook a thumb over my shoulder and say 'right here, in fact.' Sadly they just shone a light in my face as they drove past. Curses.

Anywho - a good night and now a biography of Oscar Wilde on the history channel. I've always been an admirer of Oscar Wilde. I know nowadays he is regarded as a gay icon, but I think that sells him short. He really should be a icon of non-conformity, he stood more for freedom of existence, of freedom to be different. His end was so tragic that you wish you could go back in time and save him, tell him everything will be OK one day. If, however, you did that, we wouldn't regard him so highly. It was his martyrdom (among other things) that makes him such a powerful figure. Less tragic than tragedy.