The Edge of Politesse

My eyes feel like fine grade sandpaper.  My tongue peels off the roof of my mouth with the sound of an armpit leaving your side on a hot day.  Organic Velcro.  I may have drunk too much last night.  I can remember everything that happened though, and in some ways it’s little comfort.  I had no plans, which some people take to mean I was looking for them.  I don’t consider myself so much of a hermit that a night inside watching old Seinfeld DVDs is more appealing than a night up at the local, but it is a very funny series.  You’ve twisted my arm.
 
  Truth be told, it was a fun night, I don’t have awful friends.  Of course, I probably shouldn’t have drunk as much as I did; it makes you more amenable to doing embarrassing things.  Mildly embarrassing like singing an off-key karaoke rendition of Rhinestone Cowboy, or terribly embarrassing things like agreeing to see a friend of a friend tomorrow, just the two of you.  Why would I do that?  I don’t even know her, and frankly I don’t even like her.  The kind of girl who discovered makeup at age 12 and has gotten very, very good at the liberal application of it since then.  Must be expensive to go through that much.
 
  It’ll be rude if I just blow her off, and I’d like to consider myself above such rudeness.  Surprising though it may seem, the terminally homebound do have a modicum of decorum and empathy.  We just push it deep, deep down inside us.  Then we tell jokes about it at the annual hermit get-together.  I can’t just cancel on her for no reason, it’ll hurt her feelings, but I don’t want to sell myself too much either.  I’m certainly not a shiny new beamer, but I think she may have long since stopped paying attention to that particular dealership in favour of the used car salesman down the street.
 
  “Meet at the art gallery at 12.”  It’s 9:30 now... how to make myself as unappealing as possible in two and a half hours?  I’ll save ten minutes by not showering, but I should at least brush my teeth.  There’s a lot of sugar in beer... oh, but maybe I can kiss her with bad breath?  Would that work?  OK, the teeth can take one for the team today, I’ll brush them when I get back.  If you put gel in bed hair, it looks cool, but if you leave it as is un-gelled, it looks like you’ve put in no effort whatsoever.  Thank the lord I don’t own any hair gel.  Add in the stubble that’s just short of designer and we have one truly awful sell on the face front.
 
  Track pants and thongs are a given.  The well placed ketchup stain, a little too close to the crotch, makes them truly wonderful “don’t even bother” pants.  The question is wife beater or frayed “Slayer” shirt?  If I had anything resembling upper body strength, the wife beater could be a good sell, but weedy shoulders and a liberal share of the world’s supply of arm hair makes it less wife-beater and more wife-cajoler.  I think the Slayer shirt works better; not only has it not been washed since the mid-nineties, but it has that magical mix of awful traits, “I am a metalhead,” “I have poor hygiene” and “I’m not even trying.”  It’s the trifecta of tremendously unappealing.
  I took a beer with me as I drove to the gallery.  It’s far too early, but who’s going to date someone who’s drinking a VB at midday?  I don’t know why I had a bottle of VB in my fridge, but who could have known it’d come in useful?  I’m not going to enjoy the drink, but it serves a greater purpose.
  
  I wait outside the gallery, sipping my beer, as she walks up to me.  I do not understand the dress sense of people, but it appears that she has gone for “sexy”.  Those pants are far too tight for her.  I suppose I should be flattered that she’s gone to the effort, but it’s barking up the wrong tree here.  Time to get started.

  “Hey sweet-cheeks, how’s it going?”
   
  She goes to answer, but she can’t respond to the pleasantry because my mouth is wrapped around hers.  Her lip gloss tastes like strawberries and lost youth.  I squeeze her bum for good measure.
 
  “Well, hello sailor!  You’re in a friendly mood today!  Got one of those for me?”
   
  Oh dear.  Takes a special kind of lady to want a VB at midday.  I may have made things worse.  No matter, push on.

 
  “Sorry love, none for you.”
  “Hahaha greedy guts!  Come on, let’s go in.”

  Hmmm... no mention of the clothes.  Either she’s biting her tongue or she doesn’t mind the latest in under-the-pier chic.  Maybe this is the latest craze.  Maybe she just has a fetish for unappealing men.

 
  “Do we have to pay?”
  “Nah, it’s free.  I wouldn’t be paying for you!”

  That seems like a harsh thing to say.  Hopefully she’s a little offended.  I half wished you did have to pay admission, I would have asked her to cover me.  She laughs at this.  I don’t know how that laugh didn’t turn me off her last night, it sounds like a cat being raped.
 
  “Wow, from behind you go up to a seven!”
   
  Now that is how you turn off a woman.  Or so it would seem, if it wasn’t for the fact that, upon hearing that, she turned to me, and wiggled her bum.  Apparently a seven is a compliment?  Layers of confusion.
 
   “Yeah, about a seven.”

  It’s not working.  Maybe I’ve misjudged her.  Maybe I’m not as disgusting as I thought.  I’d kill for a woman that was properly put off by overzealous tongue hockey.  A woman who had enough self respect to be properly turned off by a master class in uncouth baiting.  Lord, give me a woman I could drive away properly.


  “This looks like a guy wiped his arse on a piece of canvas.”
   “Hahaha, I know, right?”
 
  That laugh.  That shrill, mindless laugh. The laugh of peroxide blonde high school hook-ups and a love of the Spice Girls.  I’ll never drink again.  I’ll never believe someone when they tell me you need to go out more, meet some new people.  I have this friend, you’d love her, she’s sooooo funny.  Yeah, I’ll bet she is.  I’ll bet she’s such a catch; you try to set her up with your asocial shut in friends.  All those popped collared hair gelled walking machismo aerosols squirting testosterone into crowded deafening clubs must not have noticed her charms, or maybe she’s just not their type.  Maybe a high school education is far too dynamic for the average man.

  “I’m having a lot of fun; I’ve never been to an art gallery!”
   
  Stop the fuckin’ presses.


  “Woooow, this one is pretty!  I love the colours!”
  “Yeah, it’s pretty sweet.  And those flowers look a bit like tits.”
  “Haha yeah, you’re right!”

  Oh come on.  She paused a little there, I thought I’d hit a sweet spot, but apparently the word “tits” is really a selling point.  She brushes her hand over the small of my back as she walks by me.  Darling, calm yourself.  I am but a man with the wittiest of observations.


  “You’re a cool chick, you remind me of my ex.  She was great in bed.”
  “Well, I’m not too bad myself.”
  “I’ll bet, but she had a better arse than you.”
   
  It’s foot in mouth gold.
 
   “Oooooh that sounds like a challenge... but you’ll just have to wait.”
   
  Lady, what the hell is wrong with you?  I don’t know how your brain works, but it’s probably broken when you think that is a come on.  She keeps shooting me these sneaky looks over her shoulders.  What is she trying to say?  Offend me more, I like it.  I’ve been told hetero courting looks strange to the outside observer.  I must not be hetero.  This is the opposite of courting.

 
  “So, do you watch much porn?”
  “Oh... uh... not so much...”
   
  We have an opening.

 
  “Oh man, you’d like it.  Some of the stuff those chicks do, man it’s crazy.”
  “Mmm”
  “Yeah, there’s this one thing, where the chick stands on her head, right...”
   
  I could not hate myself anymore than I do right now.

 
   “...and then drinks it, right from the glass!”
  “Eeeew, that’s gross.”
  “Yeah, it’s pretty hot.  There’s this other thing I saw, where this chick takes a big rubber...”
   
  Part of me is asking why I even know this.  Part of me is hoping this doesn’t come back to bite me.  All of me wishes it didn’t have to go this far.

 
  “Man, that sounds painful; you couldn’t pay me to do that.”
  “It pays pretty good, I reckon you’d be alright at it.  Not one of the really good ones, but you could be alright.”
   
  Is that an insult?  I don’t know.
 
  “Well, thanks for the support.  You never know what the future holds.”
   
  I hope she’s joking.  She probably is, I’m probably overreacting.  She’s grinning.  She keeps looking at me.  This isn’t cute conversation.  I must be the only person that thinks pornography is a private and sparing enterprise.  What a free spirit he is, he just says what comes to mind.

 
   “I had this ex; she used to love the stuff.  I caught her watching it a couple of times.  Having fun without me.”
  “Oh that’s harsh!”
  “Nah it was pretty hot.”
  “Right.”
   
  Her smile fades.  I’m floating in an ocean of relief.  I’d love to watch the dawning realisation that the person she’s been flirting with this whole time is an unpleasant man child break in her mind.  As awful as I feel, it’s nice for the frustration to melt away.  Push on.


  “I bet you love having fun on your own, hey?  Flicking the bean?”
  “That’s... that’s a little personal...”
  “You love it!”

  I give her a shove.  It’s too hard disguised as playful that came off too hard.  You have to push with just the right force.  Too much and you’re just pushing a lady around.  Too little and it’s just a playful shove.  One or two steps out of pace.  The accretion disk of faux pas.  She smiles awkwardly and my heart sings.

  “Hey, there’s a little tour group, we should join in.”
   
  Translation:  I don’t want to be alone with you anymore.  The sad bit is, I’d love to go on a little tour with someone I actually like.  I hope they don’t remember me.  We sidle over and catch the tour guide in the middle of discussing a Picasso.  I shouldn’t sink this low.  She already looks at a complete loss.  Surrounded by people she doesn’t know, standing next to a walking stereotype.  I catch a look at her face... her eyes are inky tide pools of disappointment.

  “It doesn’t even look like anything!”
 
  It’s just loud enough to echo.  Those shocked looks.  They’d probably be less shocked if I hadn’t selected that exact moment to scratch my nut sack.  Not a passing scratch, a few seconds of committed digging.  Enough time for everyone to see.  The tour guide hustles us on to break the silence.
 
  I like this gallery.  I come here on my own sometimes, just to unwind.  If I had a shotgun I’d plaster the caricature I’m wandering around as all over the latest installation piece by another unnamed art student.  I don’t even know why I’m doing this... is this polite anymore?  Whose face am I saving?  I’m worried I’m having fun.  The tour guide says” modern art” and my brain disconnects.
 
  “Modern art?  More like modern I-fucked-your-mum!”
 
  Her jaw drops.  The group hastily shuffles along but she stays put, shocked and appalled.  OK, I can finish this now.


  “Why are you being such a jerk?”
  “Baby, it’s just the way I am!”
  “You were so much nicer last night, what happened?”
  “Well, you were showing a bit more tit last night.”
  “You’re a dick, I’m leaving!”
  “Are you sure you don’t wanna come back to mine, we can have some sex?”
 
  She storms away.  I can’t help but feel as if I’ve really done something good today, saved her feelings.  I can’t imagine how rejected she would have felt if I had just blown her off.  At least this way, she left with her dignity.  As I leave, the woman behind the counter comes up to me.  Apparently they feel it’s necessary to ban me from the art gallery.  That’s a shame, I like it here.

                                                               *                             *                             * 

  I got a call from a friend today.  The dialogue went something like this:

 
  “So, I hear you were on top form at the art gallery.”
  “Yeah, I know, I felt bad...”
  “You should feel bad!”
  “Yeah, but I think I did the right thing, blowing her off would have hurt her feelings.”
  “Wait... what?”
  “I felt bad making her think I was interested, but I think this way, it’s all worked out for the best.  She can find someone else more her style and her feelings weren’t hurt.”
  “I think it’s best if I don’t see you for a while.”

  I understand why he’d want some distance; it might be a bit awkward between us, especially if she happens to be out with us.  But at least he can rest safe in the knowledge that his friend’s feelings weren’t hurt.  It’s a shame; she seemed a nice enough girl, but just not my type.  Sometimes, it’s hard being polite.  But it’s just something you have to do.

"First World Problems" Is A First World Problem

  Somewhere out there, in the giant throbbing biomass that is the human race, someone has it worse than you.  Objectively, someone has more negative phenomena affecting them than you do.  It's the nature of existence; as long as there is at least two people alive, there will be pissing contests.  Now, you'd think the fact that you're doing better than some other people would be an incredible pick me up.  Life isn't so bad, just look at that guy!  He sucks.  Unfortunately, some of us have brains that just aren't helpful to the "feeling good about life" cause and want to turn positives into negatives, so in the spirit of over-sharing on the internet, here is a list of reasons why not being the least fortunate man on the planet makes me feel terrible.

1)  The suffering of others makes me sad.  I know I've opened with a very lame sentiment, but to be fair, if you aren't at least a little upset that other people are suffering, I envy you.  I wish I could not give a shit like that.

2)  I'm not doing better than others by any work of my own.  I'm a white male from a middle-class family in a first world country.  By default, I'm doing better than billions of people.  As such, the fact that I'm not the least fortunate person on the planet doesn't feel like a miracle I should be eternally thankful for, it just seems statistically likely.

3)  The quality of life I enjoy should bring me a lot of happiness, but because it's been ever-present for my entire life, the fact that it continues to be doesn't actually do anything to change my mood if I happen to feel crappy.  The idea of thinking to myself, "oh, I shouldn't be bummed, I have running water!" just seems asinine to me, because I managed to go from feeling good to feeling bad without the running water ever doing anything different.  I know I should derive some degree of happiness and satisfaction from the relative comfort of my life, but that doesn't actually make me feel any different, which makes my sadnesses and frustrations seem unjustified and out of my control, which feeds itself.

 4)  Sadness, difficulty, frustration and hopelessness aren't objective, so even if someone does have more difficult circumstances than I do, there's no metric to compare how they feel to how I feel, so it's distinctly possible I feel worse than them, which is again totally unjustified.

5)  Their suffering might not be their fault and they may lack the necessary tools to alleviate their suffering, which reminds me how much I take for granted just how many tools I have to alleviate their own.

  I realise just how easy it is to look at this list and say "this is completely selfish and trivializes the very serious suffering of others," but look at number 3.  I know this.  I know that navel gazing and beating yourself up because you're beating yourself up is stupid, but I also know that even if no-one else knows exactly how you feel, you'll still feel the same, and if you feel shitty, you're gonna feel shitty.  It surprises me that society is not more open about emotions in general; we all have them and we all know just how much they can affect you, but yet, we rarely (if ever) talk about or acknowledge them.  And doesn't that just make you sad? 

On The Friend-Zone

The concept of the friend-zone used to make a lot of sense to me.  I remember very clearly, in my youth, thinking that there was this perilous social limbo where those who weren't smooth enough to achieve "relationship" status would fall and lurch about like so many zombies, only they were looking for attention and validation rather than brains.  Needless to say, it probably gave away just how little I understood about friendships, relationships, women and the dynamics of social interaction at the time.

Snap forward and... well, I still have a pretty piss poor understanding of friendships, relationships, women and the dynamics of social interaction, but I seem to be less completely awful at it, so let's count it as a victory.  I don't think it's a maturity thing, there are plenty of young people who have incredibly well-developed social skills just as there are plenty of aging dickheads.  The truth is, socialising is somewhere between a natural talent and a learned skill; all the charisma in the world won't save you in the long run if you're a douche deep down, but all the pleasant nature in the world won't help you meet and influence people.  You can learn how to be charismatic, friendly and approachable but people will see through your shit if you're just trying to get them onside.  At any rate, the important thing; I don't get the friend-zone anymore.  I don't understand why it's still in such common parlance.

Meme culture isn't the most enlightened thing in the world, I'll concede that straight away, but it's also an interesting tool for examining what is and isn't considered offensive in our society; racist and sexist stereotypes abound, but they're always stereotypes that society has internalised and no longer considers offensive.  Oh, how witty, you made reference to fried chicken and posted a picture of a black guy!  Coz it's funny, right?  I mean, they love chicken.  Especially the fried kind.  There is a very small fraction of the internet media consuming public that is actually offended by stereotypes like "black people like chicken," "Asians are good at maths" or "being friend-zoned sucks."

Enter the skeptic; being friend-zoned sucks, does it?  I'm afraid I'll have to disagree.

Note 1:  All opinions expressed by the author reflect his state of mind at the time of writing.  These opinions may be different to those expressed in the past or those that are expressed in the future.  Obviously I try to keep that to a minimum but you can't really write about changing thoughts on things without your thoughts having changed at some point.  Change is good.

For the sake of consistency, let's lay out a few definitions.  The "friend-zone" is the title for the theoretical place one inhabits when the relationship dynamic between two people becomes such that one person in the partnership decides that they are interesting in maintaining a friendship, even if they do not consider you a potential sex or life partner.  Getting "friend-zoned" is being told or otherwise becoming aware that you have been put into the "friend zone."  "Stuck in the friend-zone" means one is attempting to change the dynamic of the relationship between two people to include potential candidacy as sex or life partner but failing at their endeavour.

Now that we've synthesized some workable definitions of what all the "friend-zone" and its accrued baggage is, the fun part; tearing into it.  Let me say for posterity that any two (or more) people of any combination of genders can have this dynamic going on in their relationships, but in my personal experience the most common (by a long, long way) is straight men being friend-zoned by straight girls, so that's what I'm going to dig into, out of laziness more than anything.

Number 1)  It strikes me as incredibly rude that people act openly upset when they've been "friend-zoned."  I get it, you're hurt that you wanted something different out of the relationship between you and the other person but didn't get it and you feel inferior because you feel like it's some character flaw of yours that prevented the relationship from going the way you desired.  It's cool, I get it.  However, when you're being "friend-zoned," you're having someone tell you that they like you as a person and want you in their life in the capacity of a friend.  Acting openly bummed about that makes you look like a self-obsessed douche, you're basically saying "your friendship is nowhere near as valuable to me as your body or your availability as a potential partner."  No, that's not totally a demeaning, awful thing to say to someone at all.

Number 2)  It pisses me off to no end when people talk about being "just" friends, especially with people of the opposite sex.  Why the "just"?  Certainly the phrase "we're friends" communicates exactly as much relevant information as "we're just friends."  All the "just" adds is the implication that there's more going on privately between you two than you let on but "friends" is the word that both of you (read:  the one who isn't shooting for a relationship) are most comfortable with.  You're letting everyone else know about your personal shit and reminding your "just" friend of the tension there as well as exactly how highly you consider their "friendship."  Good going, douche.

Number 3 (this is the big one))  It says a lot about our society and in particular how we regard women that the sentiment of "friend-zone" doesn't apply anywhere near as widely to other interpersonal relationships, that is to say, no-one bitches about being "relationship-zoned" or being "sex-zoned."  Seriously, imagine this;  "Oh man, she's totally sex-zoned me.  I really like her as a person but she's only interested in my body."  Admittedly that specific scenario does come up but usually (usually!  Not always!) the genders are reversed and it's not as openly talked about, but the fact that the idea of a man saying it seems odd probably lets on more latent sexism than we'd like to admit.  But this isn't about sex, this is about interpersonal relationships in which sex may be a factor; the binary here is usually between being stuck in the "friend-zone" when what you really want is a relationship.

First and foremost, I reject the idea that being in a relationship is inherently superior to being single, even if you do have an interest in pursuing someone who doesn't share that interest.  Like everything in life, relationships aren't always great.  Sometimes, relationships are difficult.  Sometimes, you do feel lonely, scared, ignored, unattractive or unappreciated, even if you are in a relationship.  Sometimes, you have to work hard to make it work, you have to bite your tongue, make compromises and answer difficult questions.  The anxieties, flaws and errors that are a part of every human being don't suddenly become OK just because you paired up.  In fact, usually they come into sharper focus because if you're trying to be open and honest with someone, occasionally the less-than-great stuff comes out.

You hear phrases like "at least you have relationship troubles" muttered bitterly as if you're a rich guy complaining to a beggar that you don't have enough fifty dollar notes to wipe the caviar from your lips.  I'm sorry, I didn't realise your existence was so shitty that my problems are like dream vacations for you.  Because, you know, it's not as if you're of any value to society or other people being single, may as well let everyone know just how valueless you are, right?

Please.

One day, someone is going to have the moxie and the wit to actually have a "relationship-zoned" bit and mean it.  I can see it now; it'd be a more elegant delivery of something along the lines of:

"Oh, dude, you got relationship-zoned?  Oh man, I'm so sorry.  I can't believe you're gonna have to consider their feelings and wellbeing to a greater degree than you usually do before you do anything that involves them!  Sucks that you'll have to deal with your own emotions and human vulnerability by opening yourself to another person yet also deal with theirs as well as they open themselves up to you.  Man, I hope you don't miss being potentially available to new sex and/or life partners now that you've opted for a monogamous pair bond!"

OK, that was pretty awful, but there's a point nestled in there somewhere.  I believe it's something along the lines of "relationships can suck too and also offer a new set of challenges."  Yeah, that'll do. 

I'm not going to say being attached is better than being single.  They're just different.  But bitching about being stuck in the "friend-zone" makes you sound like a 12 year old.  Relationships don't magically happen after you've been a "great friend" for X amount of time.  They're a different creature.  Sometimes they come out of friendships, sometimes they don't.  As crazy as it sounds, if you feel that way about someone, maybe you should sack up and make a move, rather than being passive and impotent.  Yeah, you might get rejected.  It happens.  Plenty of fish in the sea, maybe you can still be friends and maybe, just maybe, if you believed your own bullshit about "valuing the friendship" in the first place, you wouldn't be worrying about whether or not they like you, because you VALUE THE FRIENDSHIP.  Maybe.

Note 2:  I realise that it comes off as at best ironic and at worse condescending for someone in a relatively new relationship to say that relationships aren't all that great and that being single is just as good and blah blah blah but there's no possible situation I could be in that would render this easier to read objectively.  If I was single, I'd seem like I was rationalising it.  If I was engaged/married it'd seem even more condescending than it is now, if I was in a poly relationship it'd seem even more condescending still and having a fuck-buddy is just being single with organisation.  No, seriously, if it's just sex, legitimately a physical exchange without emotional attachment, there's no difference to being single except you have a regular sex partner.  Not saying it's bad, just saying.  Anyway, although it may come off as condescending, at least I've been honest with it.  I'm happy with my relationship right now and I prefer relationships in general, but that doesn't mean they're always better than the alternatives.  Sometimes they suck, but sometimes they don't, and you can always minimise the amount of suck by being mature and open to communication.  Last Whiny Relationship Advice, out. 

Skipping Class Is Rad.

  The current set of generations who were born or brought up in a time when computer technology and the internet were readily available find themselves at an interesting point in the history of education.  Some tech-savvy Gen-X, Gen-Y and iGen (I shit you not, those are real names for the last 3 generations of people, according to journalists who make up words) may see the days when the idea of "class attendance" is phased out of the curriculum.  They may see a time when all education is done purely online, with a university transformed into a purely social institution.  Bear with me.

  So, as it stands right now, most university units have a reading component and a lecture component.  It's understandable that lectures were done in the past because there was no easier way to transmit as much information as they needed to in a more efficient fashion; textbooks would have to either be huge or miss chunks of information, you'd need a book for every class, it'd be expensive and unwieldy.  Unfortunately, you'd need some books, otherwise it'd be impossible to give students the background they needed before certain lectures, or give them problems to do without having to write them for every lecture.  So the lecture component and the reading component had a certain harmony, balancing each other out.

  Thing is, lectures are an awful medium for transmitting information, they're time consuming and impossible to follow at your own pace.  The only real advantage they offer is live demonstrations, assuming one needs them.  If it were possible to have all the information written down somewhere, accessible to all at their leisure, no matter where they were, in one small device, then you wouldn't really need to go to the lectures.

  Oh, wait...

  The idea of having a large session wherein information that is readily available online is spoken at you in a large room is a holdover from the past.  Now, that's not to say that there should be no classes; live demonstrations saved my arse a couple of times when I was studying engineering (although they ultimately did not help me enough to prevent my eventual failure and subsequent booting out of the university) and discussion sessions, study groups and tutorials are a big help, especially in communications and arts units.  In addition, the social aspect of the university experience is equally important, with the various clubs and the ubiquitous tav.  But lectures?  They're for old people that don't know computers.

  Skipping class to socialise (and commit crimes) is not being a delinquent.  Well, maybe it is.  But it's also a considered stab at the luddites of today, a stride towards the future, to possible transhumanism or at least a lot more down time.  And that's why skipping class is rad. 

On Achievements

People achieve things every day, without even realising it. The fact that you dragged your lazy corpse out of bed to go to a job you dislike is an amazing achievement; sure there are consequences if you don't, but god damn if your body puts in its two cents about it. Being tired and cold blows, I'd rather be in bed.

Yeah, that's setting the bar a bit low, and yeah, it does kinda trivialise the idea of "achievement" if we reward ourselves for just doing stuff we have to do. But let's not lie to ourselves, we do that anyway. All the time. Even high achievers. Sometimes, you have to tell yourself "well done" when frankly the "well" is a bit of a stretch. Sometimes stuff was just done, with no merit and no point, and it will be forgotten in the sea of little moments that make up life.

The sports-minded confuse the shit out of me for just that reason. Now, I'll concede, I partake in the odd sporting event, I don't mind the odd weekly run around with friends and frankly it makes me feel better about the amount of food I shovel down my throat on a daily basis, but it's social, there's no pressure to win and no training or drills to run. Rock up, play your ball-games, joke with friends, leave. Nice and easy. The kind of folks who go out, join teams of people they've never met and then proceed to spend weeks bonding by training together, getting all sweaty and out of breath, beads of perspiration peeking out from their pores and tumbling sensuously down their cheek to the nape of their neck... I wouldn't do it myself, but I don't begrudge you if running laps is your preferred weeknight time sink. What I've never understood is this idea that after a hard game/training session/season, players have somehow earned a reward. Call me old fashioned, but you didn't earn shit. Common sense dictates that if you joined the team of your own accord, you must have wanted to play, so right there you're signing up for difficult, tiring shit right there. It's inevitable, because you're gonna want to win (or at least have to fake it because you're surrounded by over-competitive dickheads), as will the other team, and it's likely that at some point, you'll play a team that has skills equal to or greater than yours... the challenges you face are neither unexpected nor abnormal. In fact, they're kind of a package deal with the whole "playing sport competitively" thing. So... how exactly have you "earned" a post match drink? I won't take it away, you're probably thirsty and I'm not gonna tell someone not to imbibe fluid, but let's not kid ourselves. You didn't earn shit. You did a thing you paid to do. Oh, you played hard and gave it your all? Well fucking done, you want a medal? Why would you ever not play hard, if you're trying to win? You shouldn't be rewarded for playing hard, you should be punished for not playing hard enough if you suck.

So, will I tell the football team not to hit the bar afterwards? Sweet Jesus no, number one they'd probably beat me up and number two, why wouldn't you want to hit the bar? It's fun. I do it all the time. The great thing is though, I don't have to rationalise doing stuff I enjoy to myself. I don't have to play football/till the fields/solve field equations to "earn" a beer. It's a beer. Just drink one if you want one.

It is my theory that as a society, we've become so meritocratic that we cannot look at joy without looking at achievement. We cannot enjoy something without associating the feeling of enjoyment with the feeling of having "earned" this enjoyment. The idea that anything worthwhile can only come as a result of unpleasantness is so entrenched in our society, drilled into us from the moment we're born, we accept it as some sort of fundamental truth.

In some ways, it's a valid model. Sometimes you do have to work hard to get to the good points. But more than Catholic guilt, more than white guilt, how many people find themselves afflicted with the dreaded lack-of-achievement guilt? How many people feel bad for doing nothing with their time? I won't lie, even I fall victim of this sometimes. Sometimes, I do feel shitty for not fulfilling arbitrary goals I assigned to myself with no rhyme or reason. Shit like feeling bad because I didn't practice guitar much today, didn't read that article I meant to, didn't do that uni work that I could have, didn't do any number of little things that would have allowed my broken psyche quench its thirst for some sort of box to check off, some sort of little trophy I can mentally award myself.

Upon consideration, it's mental. Having objectives to complete is part of life but it doesn't constitute life. Objectives and tasks are the little things that get in the way of living. The idea that you can't have something good unless it's reward for some sort of unpleasantness is nonsensical, encouraging people to do pointless shit to get their achievement fix or puncturing the fragile balloon of self esteem an individual may have by implying that their lack of productivity implies some sort of personal inadequacy.

I'm a fan of the slacker ideology. Do enough to achieve the necessary and disregard the rest. If you're happy with doing just any job, by all means, don't shoot for the stars. You don't NEED to constantly striving for that last little goal that will supposedly bring happiness. You don't NEED to constantly go one better than the Joneses. You can be happy with your lot in life. You can have enough stuff, you can be exactly where you want to be. I'm studying to get a job that won't slowly kill me over 40 years, I'm working to afford beer and petrol and everything else is done because I myself want to. How many people can honestly say that about their lives? How many 40-year-olds can look at what they have and say "this was by my design"? I'd wager the numbers would be a tad lower that you'd think.

Don't do stuff just for the sake of doing stuff. It's pointless and stupid. Do exactly what you want, for whatever reason you want, and if you're still not hurting anyone when you finish, than society can collectively suck it because you just beat its over-achieving, more-is-better fatass ideology. Good for you.

On Subtle Discrimination and On Paranoia

It is my firm belief that the average person is not malicious at heart. Despite the sheer number of dickheads perpetrating dickheaded acts on a daily basis, it gives my mind a degree of stability to believe that these trespasses against reason and my own comfort and convenience stem more from ignorance than any actual desire to inflict harm. You can't really hold something against someone when they didn't even know it was a problem... they're not psychic or anything, because no-one is, because psychics are a bunch of frauds from A through to Z. People's ignorance means they might not know what constitutes dickheaded behaviour, and given sufficiently terrible information, one could come to believe that dickheaded behaviour is actually positive and helpful and so continue to perform acts of subtle, well-meaning dickheadry.

If you're having trouble conceptualising that, imagine someone who, having been raised in a racist household, was under the impression that non-whites were subhuman. From birth, their home environment was quietly antagonistic to non-whites and they had never had enough exposure or interaction with non-whites to realise at a young age that they're people too. However, they grow up to be a pretty nice person (save this one serious character flaw) and as an adult, having internalised this bias to the point that they accepted it as a truth of the world, they meet a non-white person. Now, if they were an otherwise decent person, they probably wouldn't lash out at them, especially if they saw other white people treating them with kindness. However, they also view them as subhuman, so how do you reconcile that? What you get is the most subtle kind of racism, wherein they treat the person perfectly pleasantly, but with an almost dismissive condescension. Shit like walking on eggshells, clarifying stuff to them needlessly, not really listening to what they have to say... that kind of thing. It's the same for basically any bias, against homosexuals, the handicapped, people of different faiths... any bias you can think of.

What sucks about this specific kind of prejudice is that it seems to come from a good place. To the person committing it, they aren't being racist, they're being tolerant and accepting. The problem lies not with their intentions but from the misinformation they've been fed. It's upsetting that some prejudices, racism, homophobia and religious intolerance in particular, are so ingrained in certain parts of the world that these little subconscious biases are more common than one might think.

On a completely separate topic, I'm finding it harder and harder to believe the world is getting more free given how willingly people seem to want to give up their freedoms. Rationalisations like "if you aren't doing anything wrong, then you have nothing to worry about" are a nonsense, assuming a concrete definition of "wrong" and also assuming a completely fair and impartial law enforcement system that has no agenda or biases. Both of these assumptions are inherently flawed. This is purely personal, but I've never understood why people were so comfortable being filmed without permission, particularly in public space.

Food for thought.

I Can Think Of At Least Two Things Wrong With The Title Of "The Hunger Games"

I'm gonna head this off at the pass before it gets brought up; I haven't read the books, I don't care if they were "better" than the movie, I don't care if it explores the characters better. I don't care. Lately the hot ticket has been movie adaptions of incredibly popular books and series marketed directly at fans of the books. This wasn't always the case. Did you know Fight Club was a book before it was a movie? Yeah, true story. The movie has to be one of my favourite films of all time yet I haven't read the book, because I don't need to, because they are two separate pieces of art. Film is a different medium to books, with different strengths, weaknesses and approaches. A good adaption stands alone from the material it was derived from. With that in mind, let's review The Hunger Games, shall we?

The Hunger Games is a beautiful film to be bitchy about, because it did a lot of little things badly. Overall it was an enjoyable film, and by all means I encourage you to see it if you have nothing better to do, but it's the little things that prevent me from saying it was actually "good." It was shot quite nicely, especially the archery scenes. I liked how personal it felt when Katniss shot arrows, in such a way that it wasn't mechanical, nor aggressive. The close angles and avoiding the whole "camera following the arrow really fast" gimmick really gave you a sense of control and calm that reflects Katniss' personality. And on the subject of Katniss, can I get a hell yeah for positive female role models? Jennifer Lawrence's performance as Katniss Everdeen (what a stupid fucking name) was a high point for me, largely because of the fine balance she struck between vulnerability and strength. It would have been very easy to portray her as an aloof ice-queen, but instead Lawrence gives the character incredible depth. Her Katniss is incredibly warm and almost maternal in her interactions with her younger sister and later a young tribute in the arena, strong and independent in hunting/battle scenes and awkward yet oddly endearing in personal scenes, especially with the character Peeta. The result is that she comes off like a real person, with complex underlying motivations, opinions and feelings. She's scared shitless of what she faces, but isn't a whiny bitch about it. Admittedly near the end the movie drops the "strong female character" ball, but that's a fault of the writing and not the performance.

That ball-dropping is one of the major issues I had with the film, however. Pretty much up until the final quarter of the movie, Katniss is everything you could want in a female heroine. Strong enough to go toe to toe with any other competitor, never in thrall to some dude, never a damsel in distress even when she is in distress... then Peeta is wounded and oh, what's that? She loves him now? Since fucking when? You just spent the entire previous part of the movie establishing that she doesn't feel about Peeta the way he feels about her, that she has a guy she likes back home, that she's a strong independent woman who don't need no man, but then suddenly, for no reason other than he apologises for something awful he did to her in the past (I won't explain what that is but it was seriously a dick move), oh shit, love happens. I shit you not, it's like the writers realised that they had written themselves into a corner in that there was no obvious resolution to this weird romantic subplot they tried to shoehorn in, so they just defaulted to her falling in love with the only dude in the area that wasn't trying to kill her. She had quite literally tried to kill him in the previous act for professing to have a crush on her. I'm not saying that her character would never fall in love, we had previously established how empathetic she can be, but the way the romance was established and executed was... well, it was a detriment to an otherwise incredibly strong character.

When I said the movie was shot well, that doesn't mean it necessarily looked good all the time. Any scene with CGI looked about as smooth and elegant as the fucking Phantom Menace, which is pretty much unforgivable in 2012. The outside shots of the airships looked so out of place to the organic feel of the trees and woods that surrounded them, the futuristic city was had no depth or feel in panoramic shots and seriously, how hard is it to make a convincing flame effect these days? The two scenes that involved clothes with flames on them looked like a friggin' 1st year computer animation student's last-minute-final assignment. For a movie with such hype and budget, it was disappointing to say the least.

Speaking of aesthetic inconsistencies, this movie has a love affair with them. I'm more than willing to accept the whole "it's the future and people dress weird" thing, but why then do Woody Harrelson's and Christopher Plummer's characters dress really... normally? Everyone around them is dressed in clothes of weird colours and cuts, with both genders slathered in foppish makeup, yet two of the main characters that you see quite regularly dress in modern-day suits and waistcoats. Why? Why would those clothes be available in this clearly very bizarre time? It just makes them look... well, out of place, really. Despite being experienced denizens of this future world, their costumes don't reflect it. That's a very specific nitpick but I just can't believe it fell through the cracks. Even Wes Bentley's character dresses tastefully, albiet with a weird beard design, so I guess it's OK? Maybe? The food was strangely schizophrenic as well, flitting between weird futuristic pastel coloured goops and more standard, traditional fare like fish and roast chicken, although food doesn't evolve like fashion, so it's probably not a fair and equivalent bitch.

I'd like us all to admit right now that shakey-cam fight scenes are the worst kind of fight scenes. "But Last Whiny Man! They give you a sense of being in the battle! It's immersive and you feel every clang of the swords!" Hey, guess what? Go fuck yourself. It's not fucking immersive when I'm sitting in an uncomfortable chair, sipping watered down Coke Zero and getting dizzy because I can't focus on any action whatsoever. The final battle on the Cornucopia (I did like that they used that word, then designed a giant metal one... that was nice) is a particularly seizure-inducing clusterfuck. Three people in a space that couldn't be more than 5 square metres and the camera is still flying around like a housefly on PCP. I literally had no idea what was happening to who until it abruptly stops so Katniss, Peeta and obligatory-Aryan-beefcake-villain Kato can have a Mexican standoff. Then Kato, a trained killing machine from birth, who has joked about killing children earlier in the movie, gets his first piece of character development to tell us that he's dead inside? What? You spent absolutely no time establishing his character as anything but heartless killing machine, then expect us to accept that he actually feels remorse and now doesn't want to win The Hunger Games, the exact thing he's been trained to do since birth. Sorry dude, no sale.

Also, what the fuck is the point of making a "game" out of something where oustide entities can assist players? If people like players enough, they can send them shit to help them win... so wouldn't the favourites always win (assuming no freak accidents or the favourites just sucking at staying alive)? It makes no sense.

So yeah, a few glaring faults, sure, but other than everything I just mentioned, the movie is a pretty fun time. Definitely not in the "great" pile, but certainly not in the "suck" pile.

Soundwave 2012: The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

Yep, it's that time again. First, the good.

With the exception of Dream On, Dreamer, every band I saw played an excellent set. I'm sure Dream On, Dreamer's fans thought they did an excellent job, but metalcore is not my scene and I despise the stupid straightened-hair-and-fringe look so I suppose I'm a tad biased against them. Saves The Day were pretty shameless in their use of one of the best albums ever (the first 40 minutes of their set was Weezer's Pinkerton in its entirety) to promote their relatively bland emo-pop, but they played it pretty respectfully so they are forgiven. Gojira and Meshuggah were tight and mercilessly heavy, In Flames were a pleasant surprise for a skeptic, Mastodon remain a favourite for anyone who likes their metal to be interesting and Slipknot were at their most camp, over the top best. The act who takes the day was, as they always are, The Dillinger Escape Plan, whose destructive antics were matched only by the incredible tightness with which they played. Most disappointing show goes to headliners System Of a Down, who played a functional but relatively uninteresting set. Great songs, sure, but nothing to write home about.

The inevitable bad.

The Perth organisers of Soundwave 2012 must have been huffing some sort of industrial solvent, because changing the timetable after the program has been printed, then changing it again the evening before is, without a doubt, the most retarded shit any organisers could pull. It was effectively impossible to properly plan your day and led to people missing the first few songs of bands they wanted to see all day. You dropped the ball, you pack of spastics, don't do it again.

Although it was no-one's fault, the heat put something of a damper on proceedings, with my pale companion getting some vicious sunstroke. To be fair, it's partly his own fault for drinking nothing but Coke and Lift all day when water was free, plentiful and better for you, but I'm not a complete arsehole.

Now, the serious part, the ugly.

I understand that working security is a tough gig. I understand the pay isn't great and you have to deal with drunk idiots. I understand you're under some pretty strict instructions to not let anyone get on stage and to eject potential trouble makers. I get it. But seriously, don't be a dick, security guys. If the band says to let a guy come on stage, just let him. Seriously, it's one guy. If a guy is getting rowdy, don't four of you jump on him and start kicking him while he's on the ground. That probably won't calm him down. Quite the opposite, in fact. Security is (to my understanding, at least) about keeping people secure, not giving fans a hard time just for getting excited. Chill the fuck out, guys.

Nintendo Made Me Into A Man.

Man, kids these days? Friggin' soft. Bunch of whiny, entitled pansies with no exceptions. And the reason for this? Video games.

"Yeah, fuckin' vidjagames! Kids should be out playing football and punching each other in the sun and shit!" No, shut the fuck up. Wrong, wrong, wrong. The reason this generation is soft is because they never had to truly experience the vicious, mind rending frustration that was true "Nintendo Hard."

P.S. people pointing out that this flies straight into the face of an earlier post of mine, that post was about each generation sucking to approximately the same degree. I'm just getting stupidly specific about one aspect of the iGen-crowd's particular brand of suckiness.

See, back in the day, you didn't pass videogames while baked on a weekday, oh no. They required concentration, rationing and some pretty inspirational speeches from friends to pass. I personally remember the joy and fanfare experienced when I watched a young friend finally conquer Megaman 7 on the Super Nintendo Entertainment System. That final boss was a colossus and he was toppled, toppled I say! Defeating Bowser in Super Mario 64 for the last time, after you've chased that fucker around for 120 stars worth of gameplay and you could finally rescue the Princess... that was some heavy shit. People spoke of that as if they'd seen a fucking yeti. Where's that sense of achievement now? Where's the intense sense of accomplishment that used to come with conquering a mighty Nintendo game?

The kids these days, they pass 4 games a day. I quit gaming last generation back (save every new Pokemon game) when I got to the end of the latest 007 title in one sitting. I got to the last level and had to put the controller down. I hadn't achieved anything... I'd just sauntered to the last level. Remember GoldenEye? If you passed the Control level where you had to protect Natalya in one go, you must have been some sort of autistic videogame savant, because that was not made for normal human beings.

I know it seems petty, but when you think about it, if someone had never experienced the intense sense of achievement at the completion of an incredibly difficult task as a child, why would they have any incentive to try hard at anything as an adult? Muse on this...

On Professionalism.

I did want to write a nice two part entry on why exactly the music industry is as ostensibly terrible as it is, but my preparation for that particular endeavour has been... sporadic. Rest assured, it's in the works, being worked.

Anyway, to avoid completely immolating myself with shame, here's another set of samples from the cognitive bowel that is my brain.

The Labor Party should just re-instate Kevin Rudd. Just boot Julia out of the offices, ignore she ever existed, and just let Rudd manipulate the media the way you wished Julia could. Yeah, it'd make them look like slimy, backstabbing corporate whores, but the honesty would be refreshing and it should a ridiculous amount of guts on their part. Additionally, there's no way Tony Abbott could compete with that, he'd barely get a look from broadcasters.

Weezer's first album is really good. I won't post a full review because it's been out since 1994, but the songs are catchy and they just sound so very slack... great lazy tunes.

I was playing a card game with a friend a few days ago, and the instructions were written such that "he" was the pronoun used to describe the player, rather than "he/she" or "they" or something else gender neutral. Now, I'm guilty of doing this as well occasionally, but I found it slightly unnerving to read for some reason. I felt irritated the writer had used "he" exclusively. Signs I've completely internalised feminism, perhaps?

I sometimes wonder if the incredibly liberal among us look weird to the incredibly conservative among us. Personally, I tend to view the particularly conservative with sympathy, thinking "oh, I'm sorry you get to miss out on some cool stuff" but it occurs to me that to them, someone like me must look completely unfocussed and undisciplined. I suppose it's just a case of different points of view.

...and that about covers the amount I felt I needed to write to overcome guilt. 'til next time, friends.

On Terrible Art.

Let it never be said that I'm fair and even handed when talking about art I like or dislike. I can put together a fair and pretty objective description of an album, movie or book, and I've had enough experience (with movies and music at least) to know the basics of the language and describe them in a way that other fans would understand, but that isn't liking or disliking something. The enjoyment you derive from something is completely subjective and largely pretty capricious. You could make the argument that it's more about the precise and unique mix of specific elements than the specific elements themselves and that you could potentially enjoy anything, but then it would make a nonsense of analysis of art in the first place. Not every artist is unique and there are a whole bunch of forms that art conforms to, yet people's tastes can run the gamut from completely exclusive to one form all the way to liking basically everything you experience. Your taste in anything subjective is subject to so many internal and external factors that trying to pin down who would like what and why is an exercise in futility.

From an analytical perspective it's a huge bother, but from an "enjoying life and experiencing new thoughts and emotions" perspective, it really makes appreciation of art one of the best things you can do with your time. Whether passively absorbing something or actively thinking about or participating in the creation of something artistic, it's pretty much a part of everyone's life, you can't avoid it. Hell, as you read this right now, you're taking part in said process. However, what this also means is that discussions about the quality or perceived value of a piece of art are about as stupid a thing to do as trying to figure out just how many apples you'd need to make an orange. Sure, it's interesting and fun, but it doesn't necessarily go anywhere or mean anything.

From a purely objective standpoint, "Hit Me Baby One More Time" by Britney Spears is just as important and influential as anything done by The Smiths or Nirvana. That's my hypothesis and I'm sticking to it. Hell, I remember being filled with tremendous disappointment when an ex-girlfriend considered The Vengaboys to have been a more important group than Smashing Pumpkins in the 90s. At the time, I implored her to at least listen to Siamese Dream, or concede that they had more integrity and talent, but looking back, that was retarded. For one thing, she didn't like rock, she liked bubblegum pop and dance-y stuff, so even if she did listen to the record, odds are she would have told me it was too distorted, too depressing and she hated Billy Corgan's voice. As much as I'd like to think I'm on the all important cusp of whatever is new and fantastic, the fact is, as long as people are listening to, absorbing the message or aesthetics of and telling other people about a certain song, it's important.

That's kinda disheartening, isn't it? You'd like to think that stuff you find to suck is somehow objectively sucky and that you picked it, even though no-one ever defines what it means for something to suck in the first place. You can bitch about the execution or the message or the budget or whatever, but in the end, people still saw Transformers and were excited for the sequels. That shit made money, despite the fact that anyone with even the most paltry education in the art of cinema could tell you exactly what it did wrong.

Any time I write a review of something, or even express my opinion on it, there should be a big, unspoken caveat to all of it that reads something like "Every view expressed on this subject is, at its core, based on something purely subjective anyway, so all discussion is done for the enjoyment of discussion, not some sort of universal taste precedent." Yeah, you could spend hours extolling the virtues or failings of a particular piece, but in the end, that's still just technical stuff that has no bearing on how much an individual person may enjoy it. Sure, YOU might only like movies that are well shot from a technical perspective and written with the grace and delicate touch of a truly talented and educated writer, but something shit could just as easily turn out to be a classic... sometimes things are greater because of their flaws, rather than in spite of them; pretty much the entire 90's alt rock scene was built on relatively poor production, unusual equipment and a rejection of technical excellence, yet I'm listening to Failure right now.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, unless you're me, your taste in everything is shit and you'll never convince me otherwise.

Devil's Advocate: I Don't Care If You're Offended Edition.

When folks talk about human rights, I personally find that they speak of rights in a very odd sense, as if rights are something you can put on a mantlepiece and admire for years to come, something you earn in one massive battle and then everyone will respect them. These conversations are irritating partly because of the binary that creates between haves and have-nots; we, the white folks, the haves, must fight for the rights of the have-nots, the minorities and immigrants and so on, but they're mostly irritating because, and again this is all in my experience, a lot of people don't even know what rights they're talking about, or what qualifies as a right at all.

To use a very broad example, consider the gay community and their ongoing (and occasionally heartbreaking) quest for equality. The oft-quoted mantra is some variation on "we just want the same rights as you." That's a fair comment and personally, I don't see any reason why they shouldn't have the right to get married, to seek employment or promotions based on their performance alone, to adopt, all that shit. What you're talking about there are rights that other groups have that are denied to a certain subset of humanity because of something that is neither immoral nor a choice. In this specific argument, the rights the gay community are seeking are valid and currently being denied to them.

Unfortunately, not every cause is as justified as the gay community's. A friend on Facebook sent me a request to join the group "Join my cause: Remove Group F**k Islam from facebook," which I won't link anyone to because I don't want anyone to join it. Admittedly if you really wanted to it's not as if it's hard to find or anything, but my point is, don't join it, the group makes no sense.

Already I can hear the chorus of indignant caring folk. "Why do you hate Islam!? They have a right not to be persecuted!!1!" Just stop it. Stop that right now, and think about what you're saying. The group isn't beating up people of the Islamic faith, nor is it inciting people to do the same. Yeah, it's racist, islamophobic and pretty tasteless, but that description could also be attached pretty accurately to most American television. This group is, at it's core, the association of people who share a common belief. Kinda similar to a church.

See, things like "right not to be offended" are nonsensical concepts, impossible to enforce and based on this idea that a Utopian society would feature no hatred, persecution or offense. Bull-fucking-shit, I say. You can't legislate how people feel and exchange ideas. You can legislate against actions or attempted actions, but anything beyond that is an attempt at thought policing.

As much as it may shock the caring individuals out there, freedom of association, freedom of belief and freedom of speech are very important rights for a society to have; without them, the people in charge would have control over who you associate with, what you can believe and what you say. You know, the kind of America that the Republicans want to create, which I'm certain all you caring, sensitive liberals out there want to avoid.
(Sidenote, I am still a liberal, just not a whiny, new-agey wuss of a liberal.)

One cannot deny that groups like this on Facebook are racist and offensive, but unfortunately, it's also well within their rights. You have to take the bad with the good; the reason that you can freely associate with other people who want that page removed and express your ideas free from persecution is also the same reason they can make the page and attract followers in the first place. Swings both ways.

If anything can be taken out of this, it's that while both groups have every right to exist, it's the attempt at caring and sensitivity that flies directly into the face of human rights, while the racist pieces of shit (yeah, I hate racists. Like, really hate racists) that started their hate group are just exercising the rights that the good and caring individuals are fighting for in the first place. Ethics are challenging and ironic.

**If anyone's wondering, I'm more a moral nihilist than relativist or absolutist. I understand that my moral code is a construction of my own thoughts, feelings and experiences and that, ultimately, they just boil down to something subjective. However, and maybe this is just the empiricist in me talking, I also believe that we can create a kind of shared social morality by the application of logic, reason and science, starting with the premise that all people are equal from the start and that pain and suffering are to be avoided or minimised. Whether or not either of those starting conditions accurately reflect the nature of reality is a philosophical question that I simply don't have the brain power to tackle.**

This Generation Doesn't Suck, Everybody Does.

Can we all collectively agree that each successive generation isn't getting worse, it's just a result of the previous generation fucking them about? Hippies weren't bad, they just resented the overt conservatism and militarism of their greatest-generation predecessors. Baby boomers weren't amoral, greedy dickheads, they just embraced the speed and glamour afforded to them by an increasingly consumeristic culture that their parents railed against. Gen-X kids weren't heroin addicted slackers, they just resented how their parents worked themselves to death at the expense of their families in their conspicuous consumerism and didn't want anything to do with that. Which brings us to now, Gen-Y.

The Gen-Y crop? Well, children of Gen-Xers and Baby Boomers, somewhat prosperous, bombarded by more images of celebrity than any previous generation... am I the only one not surprised that the resounding image for this generation is pill-popping, self- and sex-obsessed vessels of vapidity? Their parents stressed by issues of politics, money and real-estate yet more liberal than any previous generation, a result of the "keeping up with the Joneses" shallow ambition in the case of Baby Boomers or the heady, "the world is going down the shitter and it's pretty much inevitable" heaviness in the case of Gen-Xers, it's only natural that the next crop would want to distance themselves from their parent's worries and fears.

This generation's zeitgeist will be David Guetta and Jersey Shore, mark my words. It's all about bubblegum, upbeat tunes that you can dance to and being sexy and fun instead of one of those cerebral downers. That's not necessarily the fault of this generation any more than Gen-X was the fault of the guys who grew their hair out and wore flannel, but it is their doing.

My prediction for how iGeneration (this is apparently the next batch... I shudder at whoever names these) will turn out pretty much runs this way; it'll rule like hippies and Gen-X did, but the ethos will be different. Hippies had hedonism, peace and love, hallucinogens and weed, Gen-X had acceptance of all cultures, impotent despondency at the state of the world, heroin and weed... iGen will, in my opinion have an increased resentment to conventional "settle down and buy a house" style goals and the capitalist system in general (yesssssss), a distate for politics and selective ignorance (like not knowing how torrents work and why it's not stealing to pirate an album), support for freedom of information and weed. I also predict said generation will have an almost paradoxical obsession with gadgets, but this'd more likely be due to futurist leanings, rather than consumerist ones. Or I could just be projecting.

For your reading pleasure, here is a couple ideas than never became full-bodies posts.

Fantastic Planet by Failure should have been a huge, huge hit, I don't understand why it wasn't. It's definitely not the first really good, critically acclaimed record to tank in sales and it certainly wasn't the last, but it was released in '96, there were way crappier post-grunge records released around that time that went on to do really well. It sounds as good today as it did then yet it was pretty much in step with where popular music was going at the time, there are at least three songs on the album that are hooky and melodic enough to be hits (Smoking Umbrellas, The Nurse Who Loved Me and Stuck On You are my picks, but Sergeant Politeness, Another Space Song and Dirty Blue Balloons could have done it too) and yet, who's heard of Failure? Pop culture is bullshit.

And while we're on the topic of bullshit pop culture, how fuckin' happy is Chuck Lorre right now? Dude may have set situation comedy back a few millenia with Two and a Half Men (the success of that show is inexplicable... I've watched it and I don't understand the appeal. I get it, it's just Charlie Sheen being Charlie Sheen and hardy-har-har, it's a wise cracking fat kid. Not funny) but Big Bang Theory is the form at its best. And the reason BBT is so good? No, it's not because there's finally a show about nerds, because The IT Crowd beat them to the punch and is, in its own unique way, a very good, geek-oriented show. No, the reason BBT has gained so much momentum since it first began is because it took the time to build characters, not just slap together some stereotypes and call it a day. I won't go into my frothing, pop-culture nerd rant, but it's nice to see them take character archetypes (the fun girl, the straight man, the sex pest, etc.) and give them a bit more depth than just "the wacky neighbour." Every character in BBT has stuff going on outside the main group, they just all happen to be friends. Anyway, looping all the way around to the point, Chuck Lorre dumbed down the collective TV-watching horde with Two and a Half Men, then made something legitimately entertaining in The Big Bang Theory, and is now richer than anyone should be. Good going you cynical yet ultimately talented douche.

A Magical Little Fable Nobody Cares About.

With the circus sideshow of American politics reaching critical mass, it's very easy to forget that other nations, including the nation we live in, also have politicians. It's also very easy to forget that politicians who are consistently in the public eye are a very unique kind of person; ambitious and driven enough to slog through the dehumanising gauntlet of party politics, savvy enough to secure top spot and yet, somehow... consistently unlikeable. In recent memory, I cannot name a politician who came of as a person I would like. There have been funny ones of all different flavours, and even a couple of effective ones, but none I can honestly say I liked as people.

Ignoring names for a moment, let us reflect on the narrative that has been Australian politics these last two terms. A divisive but ultimately respected and long-serving Liberal Prime Minister is replaced by yet another divisive figure; the intelligent and media-savvy Labor leader who had (and possibly still has) the unfortunate personality quirk of being a stubborn, arrogant, unpleasant, self absorbed and controlling douche. Said Labor leader steered Australia through the GFC, arguably thanks to the economic stability that the Liberal Party gave Australia during its reign. You could argue this specific detail until the words lose all meaning but whether the Labor leader was just a lucky passenger or an economic mastermind is largely irrelevant; Australia handled the GFC better than a lot of other nations while the Labor Party held power. Fact.

Then... well, balls were dropped. The industry bigwigs who pull the strings of the Labor Party (this isn't a conspiracy rant, Labor is largely run by union leaders and lawyers rather than politicians. Kinda cool in theory but fucking awful in practice) were unhappy with how their figurehead leader was acting more like a leader than a figurehead, so even though his mining tax scheme failed (mostly due to the spectacularly poor decision to seek support from the Liberal Party rather than The Greens), the Sword of Damacles inevitably fell, and his simultaneously historic (due to her gender) and disappointing (because of her voice, leadership style and public persona) successor stepped in.

Then, election time, and the Battle of Banality began. Both leaders, the irritating and ineffectual Labor leader and the hauntingly pious, moronic and sexist Liberal leader fought it out via "heartfelt" (read: shallow, pandering and a little bit racist) advertisements, while fringe parties from all ends of the political spectrum received an increased amount of attention due to the largely disaffected masses. Labor won by striking an accord with The Greens and two independent candidates, and what is, on paper at least, the most left-leaning government in Australian history.

The characters, narrative and set pieces are all perfect for some great comedic political storytelling, but whereas the American system almost invites, by virtue of its free and largely unregulated workings, edgy and intelligent insights, the much more fair and reasonable Australian system coats the whole proceeding with an air of beige central-ness. Which is a shame, because hot damn if our politicians don't need the Jon Stewart treatment.

Please... Drink The Kool Aid.

The collective self-esteem of the unwashed middle class horde must be at an all time low-ebb, because the degree of adulation heaped upon people of marginal talent (and that's me being generous) is, at this point in time, truly unsettling. People cried when The Beatles first landed in America. Now people cry when Kim Kardashian visits Australia. Somewhere along the road, we lost our way.

Is it all that surprising, though? People, young people in particular, have always been given to hero-worship. Musicians, actors and sports stars are placed on pedestals too high for themselves to even live up to because their contributions to their given fields enrich our lives. Fuck, I'm guilty of this too: In my darkest, secret moments, I've been known to consider Thom Yorke as something a little more than just a man (wow, isn't that a shock?) and frankly, you're always going to like people or things that provide you with joy or stimulation. Why wouldn't you? Of course, there's a fundamental separation between the adoration of someone talented and someone who is simply famous (or infamous).

The argument could be raised that people like Kim Kardashian and Paris Hilton are talented, but their talent doesn't lie in the sports or arts or sciences. You could very easily make the argument that the modern career celebrity is, in fact, a marketing genius. Their product is their image and their job is to get said image everywhere possible, to get people to give a shit about their very existence by virtue of their existence. And judging by the borderline-spastic reception Ms. Kardashian received upon arriving in Australia, it's fair to say; there are a lot of people giving a shit.

It's open season for anyone who desires celebrity enough. The "information superhighway" as Al Gore so clumsily put it is now the Trash Superhighway. A non-stop, unfiltered source of anything you want, and if you want notoriety, it's never been easier. Consider how many leaked sex tapes launched careers in the lucrative market of reality television and indefinable celebrity. Break your name into the cultural consciousness and then ride the wave of people's recognition. Still, it begs the question; these people provide virtually nothing by way of a product, so why the wild adulation?

Consider this; it is harder now than ever before for a young person to achieve home ownership, financial stability and, one could even argue, true emotional maturity. How can we? The cost of real estate is climbing steadily higher and higher, the job market is becoming increasingly cutthroat and some sort of qualification is required to even be considered for any "career" job, so the days of turning 18, getting a job and striking out on your own are dead. The school years are dragged on into this marathon of qualification-acquisition, independence becomes too much of a chore to deal with right now and maturity gets cast aside as youth creeps into the late twenties.

The "career celebrity" is of a similar age to this prisoner of life's financial mire, but their lives couldn't be more different. The celebrity can own their own home, can buy anything they like, can get paid exorbitant sums just to put in face time at a party. The celebrity doesn't have to stack shelves and pull all-nighters, they can saunter through life on the back of simply being themselves, or a camera friendly version anyway. Ever wondered about the duck-face and the make-up obsession that seems to be creeping into the photo albums of young ladies, or the adulation of meatheaded, douchebag behavior demonstrated by young men? Watch Jersey Shore, there's your answer.

This cult-like adoration of those who can be as immature and irresponsible as they feel like for no reason other than their name is recognisable shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone with even a passing understanding of the challenges of trying to vault the purgatory of the twenties and leap from childhood to true, independent adulthood, but it also doesn't make it any less irritating. We live in a world where Steven Wilson is less well known than Paris Hilton. Think about that.

5 Kinda Weird Albums From The Late 90's That Everyone Should Hear

1) In the Aeroplane Over the Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel. A peculiar piece of lo-fi indie rock, the disparate ingredients of the album seem like a recipe for disaster, or at least obscurity. Singer/writer Jeff Magnum's voice is quite unique, wailing as if he has no idea how to sing, and his songs are deceptively simple, albeit with incredibly obtuse lyrics. Add that the two other main band members are Julian Koster, a multi-insrumentalist whose speciality is the musical saw and Scott Spillane, who did the horn arrangements. Not exactly the three-chord rock or shimmering pop that dominated sales then and does so now. It'd be just another folk-rock curio if it weren't for one simple fact: It's beautiful. Magnum's voice, while useless for basically any other project, is perfect here, and it compliments the overall melodic feeling of the music, with some interesting bluegrass flourishes. The album moves from solo acoustic pieces to fuzzed out garage rock to almost orchestral arrangements with horns, singing saws and pump organs, none of it feeling out of place. One of the most uniquely nineties sounding records out, even though it doesn't really conform to any sound in the nineties. Except maybe the niche Sebadoh were carving, but even then, only just.



2) Fantastic Planet by Failure. They say grunge died in 1994. Shame, then, that the genre's best album was released two years after it died. Ken Andrews' songwriting star had been rising but with this record the band mixed walls of saturated distortion with a sense of texture and melody that had been sadly lacking from the years that dominated alt-rock previously. Like much of the artistic output that was coming out in that decade, it's all angst, alienation and heroin from a lyrical perspective. "Saturday Savior", "Dirty Blue Balloons," "Smoking Umbrellas," "Pillowhead," "Stuck On You"... all amazing songs about being on too much heroin to even stand. It feels very much like a young person's album from the 90's, but don't let the "snapshot of the times" vibe get to you, it's also a very, very good snapshot of a time once gone.

I'd be remiss to point out that the other 16 tracks on the album could all be Ken Andrews vomiting and making racial slurs and the album would still be a classic because of "The Nurse Who Loved Me," the song that should have been everywhere, been at least as popular and big-selling as "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and catapulted Failure into fame and fortune. It didn't, but it is a completely mind-blowing track, growing from a touching, quiet intro into an explosive middle section. A Perfect Circle covered it nicely (and more popularly) but Failure own that song.



3) California by Mr. Bungle. These guys are a divisive bunch, either being the most crazy-imaginative group of funk-prog-avant-metal-fusion guys ever OR being artless, noise-peddling dickheads. The truth is probably somewhere in between, but their final album in 1999 was about as artful, cohesive and, well, song-oriented they got before disbanding. I won't list the genres it touches on, mostly because it's all of them, but the funk, metal and experimental influences are probably the loudest. Songs like "The Air-Conditioned Nightmare," "None Of Them Knew They Were Robots" and "Golem II: The Bionic Vapour Boy" (all real titles of songs on the album) enter into the six minute range and take detours into places that no rock band has ever really gone. Screw it, listen to this and tell me if it's like anything you've ever heard.



(Sorry for the live versions, record companies are dicks.)

4) Around the Fur by Deftones. Metal is terminally uncool and I understand it's somewhat divisive... it carries with it a stigma similar to country music. "Oh, I'll listen to anything, except..." That sentence is only ever concluded with the words "what's on the radio," "country" or "anything heavy." As is no secret here, I'm a metalhead, but I'm also a music fan. I can't listen to anything that's just heavy for the sake of heavy, but it's like a love of chillis; once you develop a taste for it, it's hard to have anything without at least a touch of it. All that said, let's get a few things clear about Around the Fur.
Yes, it's meant to be played loud. Yes it features heavily distorted guitar and minor key tonalities and yes, it's a (gasp!) metal album. It's also nuanced, layered and affecting. I suppose the main thing that seperates Deftones from the dastardly nu-metal mire that infected heavy music in the late nineties in their focus on haunting melodies, or should I say lead vocalist Chino Moreno's focus on haunting melodies. He has no problem whispering, crooning, screaming or, and this is the real shocker, singing over the elegantly constructed waves of powerchords and bizarre, homemade samples the band excels at. Metal with a difference.



5) OK Computer by Radiohead. I know they're the most popular band in the world now, this album changed alt-rock forever, Beatles of our generation blah blah blah BUT! When's the last time you actually sat down and listened to this record? I mean actually, properly listened. Even for its time, this record is so out of step with what was going on around it. Downbeat even by nineties standards, with lusher production and arrangements that Dark Side of the Moon and two ready-made super singles in "Karma Police" and "No Surprises." There's nothing I can say about this record that hasn't been said, listen to it.

Why The Next Decade Or So Of Music Will Be Great.

I don't mean great in the sense that it'll be universally adored and usher in new-found prosperity to musicians, however. Quite the opposite, musicians will be doing it tough and crap will sell more than quality until its dying breath. No, I mean the next decade or so of music will be artistically great. The kind that makes no money.

This is a big call and is somewhat counter-intuitive. As any pretentious music fan will tell you, serious, imaginative music has been somewhat lacking lately. Yes, the internet and the relative smallness of the world these days has made it possible for there to be a much wider variety of music available to even the most casual listener, and yes, there is a lot of good music out out there if you know where to look and listen but let's be fair, when's the last time you saw one of them on a magazine cover? When's the last time you saw a completely new movement sprout from a relatively small number of underground bands?

Yeah, I know it sounds like I've got my nineties hard-on in full force again, but these things don't follow decades. I mean, consider the nineties. Grunge may be considered the nineties soundtrack but Kurt Cobain died in 1994, at least a year after grunge had run its course. I'm not being facetious there, think about it. Core, Dirt, In Utero and Siamese Dream are four of the most completely different records released within the space of 2 years, yet all are considered "grunge" despite none of them really reflecting the sludgy, punky roots of the genre. The remaining 5 years of the nineties spawned brit-pop, trip-hop, nascent electronica and the good kind of alternative metal. The nineties weren't unified by one sound as they were unified by one theme: challenging, discontented music that was, informed or not, overtly against the materialism and shallowness of the generation previous.

What does that have to do with the music of the next decade? Well, if you haven't guessed it by now, there's something wrong with you. Decade dominated by vapid, image-driven pop-stars and a large but mostly sporadic and underground alternative scene, while greedy older money-pushers drive the world into economic uncertainty? Man, that sounds really, really familiar, doesn't it? Almost sounds like something we're going through RIGHT. FUCKING. NOW. The timing may be off, but this all goes in cycles. Children reject their parent's lessons and adopt a philosophy almost diametrically opposed to it. And it just so happens that this generation is about as vapid and shallow as it gets.

Yeah, tenuous I know, but seriously, society follows this pattern pretty much since the dawn of recorded music. The time scale may be contracting, but as information gets more readily available, these phases will get shorter and shorter. Stay tuned.

New Years Dreams.

Whelp, a new year is upon us. Well done, welcome to the future. Should be a good year too, I'm looking forward to a few things:

1) US Presidential Elections. Politics gets a reputation for being stuffy and boring, but as the US tumbles towards economic oblivion, basically every politician has gone their own special flavour of mental. Between the sexual harassment revelations, the homophobic sentiments, the complete misunderstanding of economics and John Huntsman's little candidate that couldn't, the Republican party are a cavalcade of laughs from start to finish. Throw in Barack's floundering popularity and his weird attempts to get the red states on side and you enter the realms of full blown political surrealism. Jokes aside, if the wrong dude (yes dude, Bachmann won't get in) wins the top spot, we could see some pretty messed up shit happening in the states and globally, but frankly it's all far too funny for me to be legitimately worried.

2) The End Of The World. Just kidding, the world isn't ending, but honestly, I can't wait for the mythical date to come. My prediction? No-one will learn anything from this, cranks will continue to be cranks and believe any stupid shit they like and I'll remain as, if not more, smugly superior than I am already.

3) The collapse of the music industry. Now, this is a big call, but the timing and spirit of the times seems perfect for this to happen. My prediction is that a number of bands, following in the lead of the Djent movement but from lots of different types of music, electronic, folk, rock, pop... basically any subgroup of "popular" you can imagine, will begin to self-produce and distribute their music and merchandise via the tubes, sidestepping the industry bigwigs. Technology and online self promotion, coupled with real world touring and merch sales will prove more lucrative than traditional methods of distribution and more bands will follow their leads until the "industry" as it exists now will collapse. This will be a slow process that will require a fair bit of sacrifice and self belief from some dedicated bands or individuals, but it's definitely within reach, now more than ever.

4) The Avengers movie. I haven't seen Edward Norton's Hulk, but I've heard good things about it. Add in the excellent Iron Man movies, the silly but still fun Thor and the surprisingly brilliant Captain America and the ingredients seem good enough individually. Cap' in particular was more than just a superhero movie but a legitimately well written and made piece of cinema, with Chris Evans' performance worth note. It would have been easy to make Cap' a dislikeably preachy Lawful-Good type, but between the writing and Evans' performance, he is instead made into a principled and complex character who, having seen and experienced the disgusting and cowardly actions of those with strength or power abusing those without, internalises those lessons and tries to make the world a better place when he is gifted with his abilities. Granted, the action scenes are gonna rule, but what I'm really looking forward to is the character interaction, particularly between Tony Stark and Thor and/or Steve Rogers.
Stark is an arrogant, largely self serving jackass whose vast intelligence lets him back up his huge ego. Indeed, when you think about it, after escaping from capture (this is the film Stark, by the way), there was no reason for him to make a new Iron Man suit. He just did it to prove he could and to lord it over anyone that couldn't. Steve Rogers is a humble, selfless hero who dislikes bullies and thugs, although lamentably his intelligence is that of an average guy from the 50's. As such, it makes sense for the Stark character to poke and prod Rogers, just to be a dick. Will make for excellent viewing. The similarly meatheaded Thor will probably receive the same treatment. Can't wait.

Other than those, standard dreams and hopes: lose some weight, have fun, maybe meet a pleasant lady, who knows. I'm still not a hopeless drug addict yet, so it's looking good.