So, the Melbourne Festival is on at the moment. We find ourselves experiencing that eternal Melbourne problem: there’s always some festival on, some art worth seeing, some program floating around that you spy in a cafe and then forget about until it’s finished and you realise you just spent two weekends straight watching Rage over brownies or writing papers, complacent in the belief that there was nothing else worth doing. And what with films being screened in cinemas for about a week now, we missed both A Scanner Darkly and The Book of Revelations. The travails of being a bourgeois art consumer, I don’t know.

Anyhow, tonight, for a change we’re going to see dumbtype and I am suiting up, and instead of a proper dinner we are having pre-concert fast food, baked eggs with toast soldiers. Yum. Yay for art.