2023 consumption: a look at some stuff I liked

Once more, dear friends, it’s time for me to remark that time has really flown this year, and that it seems as if I had only written last year’s one of these a couple of days ago.

Yep, 2023 went fast. It’s been a good year in a lot of ways, and absolutely atrocious in many others. The world continues to go to shit, and so I continue in my mission of providing distraction to those who enjoy it (thankfully, a treasured few do) through writing up what I consumed this year, culturally speaking. If this isn’t you, then punch out now. I’m not sure if this one’s going to be as long as previous editions, but let’s give it a whirl, shall we?

Previous versions are here, here, herehere, here, here, here, here, here and here if you need an introduction.

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Book review: Crossing the Line

Crossing the Line: The Inside Story of Murder, Lies and a Fallen Hero by Nick McKenzie.
My rating: four stars

I’m not going to lie: I’m reading this for different reasons (and have probably enjoyed it in a different way) than the usual reader. I’m digging in because at heart, while it ostensibly speaks to the murderous fuckwittery of one man, emblematic of a section of Australia’s elite forces, it also addresses the power that journalism can have, despite obstacles – legal, cultural and military – that might get in the way.

Perhaps it was us who were the fools for publishing without certainty of victory in a defamation court.
Masters always had a calm response to my second-guessing. ‘Was it in the public interest? Did Australians have a right to know? And was it true?’
The answer to all these questions was, yes, whether we could prove it in court or not.

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Book review: a few months’ worth, why not?

As is eternally the case, I’m behind on my book reviews. Way more behind than I’ve been in quite a while. This post is three times as long as the last one.

(TWENTY-FOUR BOOKS WHAT THE HELL MAN.)

I mean, I did get made permanent at my new job. I did go to Dark Mofo (aka Goth Schoolies), though this – depressingly – turned out to be much more lame than expected. And I did catch COVID after three years of avoiding the bloody thing, giving me further evidence that I should really stay the fuck home as much as possible.

(Which, to be fair, probably counts as my House Words.)

Indeed.

Point is, there’s been a bit on. And so with a meagre clutch of excuses, let’s get to the books I’ve been reading since I last graced your eyeballs.

(Mercifully, I’ve been doing a bit more reading which, if nothing else, makes me feel a bit better. YMMV, mind.)

Continue reading “Book review: a few months’ worth, why not?”