When Australian Lindy Chamberlain was accused of murdering her baby (the baby famously taken by a dingo), she was told not under any circumstances to cry on the stand, and she didn't. Subsequently people accused her of being a cold-hearted bitch. Then when she did cry on the stand, people said she was simply trying to…

It is frightening, because the impression you get from film and television is much more enlightened than real life. I'm Australian, but I grew up watching The Cosby Show and Sesame Street and other American shows that suggest that everyone gets along just fine. Then stories like these hit the headlines and it's quite…

Yes!! Stormfront. That's exactly it. It's freaky. I prefer to think of internet racists as a latent fringe minority, but suddenly everyone everywhere is slinging racial epithets as though we've* made no progress whatsoever since the 60's. It's very disturbing.

I have great penmanship. It bothers me that so few of the strangers I encounter on the internets know that, which is why I have no compunction about telling you, openly.

Only, the paparazzo, who was probably standing across the street. As far as I know none of the other customers took photos.

This is not an excuse, but they were in a semi-private eating area and I kind of get the impression from the pictures and eyewitness comments that the throat-grabbing was quiet and menacing rather than a sudden, violent outburst, so it might have taken a while for people to realise what was actually happening. By then…

I like the voiceover. "It's a dawg chasing little goldfish in his pooool." It sounds like he's a cowboy trying to sell me the smooth, cooool taste of a Marlboro cigarette. (I'm not buying, but I'd like some goldfish and a little dawg in a pooool.)

Yes! Exactly.

I'm not convinced about the experiences thing. My sister and I are both pretty penurious. She scrapes and saves all her pennies until she can afford to jump out of a plane (strapped to an instructor) a couple of times a year. It lasts for a few minutes. Once when I was still a student I scraped and saved all my…

My freckles sort of disappeared. At least the big childhood freckles that look like they've been painted on. I don't know why. I'd like them back. I wonder if I could literally paint them on?

Oh, that makes sense. It's winter in the southern hemisphere, so we're subsisting on parsnips and turnips. And turnip cobbler SUUUCKS.

Why is everyone talking about peach cobbler? Slate just did a "you're doing it wrong" thing about peach cobbler, and all the people who are supposedly doing it wrong are very, very angry.

Once I was living in a city apartment with a large yard full of scrap iron. I was writing a thesis about Emily Dickinson, and I read a chapter about her garden and how she went out one night and picked peaches and ate them with cream. Then I looked out my window and realised there was a tree full of peaches behind a…

Aw. A carful of of cubs. I'd like to see that.

That bear is a welfare cheat. He's getting disability checks, while obviously moonlighting as a tradesbear.

I love this.

I love the way he says "when shooting a baby like mine..." as though other babies are generally more focussed and professional.

They are the sound of an Aussie summer! I lived in Melbourne as a kid, and I loved the sound. I miss it.

That explains the weirdness.

*applause*