Yesterday Australia exploded in uproar and disappointment at the news our Test cricket captain had confessed to pre-meditated cheating in the 3rd test in South Africa. Later in the day a backlash developed as human rights advocates contrasted our national response to ball tampering with our national response to our mandatory detention of asylum seekers – which has resulted in untold misery, many deaths and life-changing injury and mental illness.
I am gutted about the gap between expectations and reality with the cricket team. Pre-meditated cheating, pushing young Bancroft out to do it, the shitty attempt at cover up after. The first I or most Australians knew about this was Steve Smith fronting a press conference, admitting the offence.
On the other hand, our government is carrying out an established policy (with tacit ALP support) that is grinding asylum seekers into the dirt every day. Every fucking day. And like millions of other Australians I have tried to hold our government to account.
I have written to ministers, to newspapers, signed petitions, attended vigils. I have volunteered for many many hours on an Amnesty International stall at the market where we try to convey the importance of these issues to people passing by. I was even pressed into taking part in a bit of street theatre in Refugee Week once [if you know me you will know this is waaay outside my comfort zone]. There are people like Ian Rintoul and Kon Karapanagiotidis who make fighting this fight their life's work. I have given time and money to help them but I cannot do what they do.
Occasionally particular events leap out of the continuum of officially sanctioned human rights abuse. The deaths of Reza Bharati, Omid Masoumali, and Hamid Khazaei and many more. And now the attempt by the government to stop a suicidal ten-year-old coming here for treatment. These are the headline events, when every fair-minded Australian agrees - hang on, this is not right. But then it slips from the front page but those innocent people are still in mandatory detention.
Yes, there are Australians who are blind to the injustice, and in fact say they support offshore detention, tow-backs and even more punitive action against asylum seekers who have committed no crime. But 45% of Australians want asylum seekers on Manus and Nauru brought here. Undoubtedly there are cricket-lovers and proud Australians on both sides.
Freeing people from offshore detention is an every-day fight. Concern about cricket or the environment or corruption or the possums getting into your carrots; none of this means you have stopped caring about and acting on behalf of asylum seekers.
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Monday, March 26, 2018
Monday, December 19, 2011
A thought on politician's pay rises
I get annoyed at people's knee-jerk reactions to things. Half the letters to the paper seem to be written by rusted-on ideologues who made up their minds what to think about 40 years ago. With modern technology they can probably snap out a letter to the paper within seconds of any issue arising, without even needing to stop and weigh it up.
One subject bound to get people baying at the moon is pay rises for politicians. This has a particular resonance in Tasmania, where you still see "40% NEVER FORGET" bumper stickers, relating to a whopping pay rise our representatives voted themselves back in the 90s.
For a long time I have subscribed to the "pay peanuts, get monkeys" argument. If you want good people to go into politics, you have to offer to pay them something like they would be getting in their alternative occupation. So to get doctors, lawyers, CEOs and other successful people to down tools and enter parliament, the salaries have to be in their ballpark. We all know individual politicians who are venal, greedy and generally unpleasant, but I have always preferred to think that people who enter the system mostly do so for good reasons, and don't deserve to be tarred with that brush. I have argued that in the main our politicians are worth their salaries. I haven't had many mates.
I was mounting this defence at a barbecue today, in a debate with a couple who are fairly comfortably off themselves, but think politicians' pay rises are a disgrace. Then for some reason I started thinking out loud, (which is always dangerous), and questioning my own argument.
The peanuts argument assumes that "good" politicians need to be lured away from their well-paid and high-status positions as consultants, directors and managers, overseeing complex and sophisticated businesses, with many staff under their control. Because that's supposedly the best practice for governing.
But managing is what the public service is for! It's an old-fashioned idea, but it is the bedrock of the Westminster system. Elected ministers develop policy, with the advice of apolitical public servants, who then put the resulting policy into effect.
You do not need to have been a highly-paid Top Person to be a good politician. The next top parliamentarians might be currently teaching, or delivering mail, or driving a cab, rounding up cattle on a motorbike, or that lowest status of all occupations, minding children. One of our finest Prime Ministers, Ben Chifley, was a train driver.
Maybe the thing that would attract good people from all walks of life to a career in politics would be a change in the nature of it. For instance, some respect offered from one side to the other. Where are the collegial friendships between political opponents that used to be a feature of Australian politics? They exist, but have to be covered up because they are seen as liabilities instead of strengths.
So - I have changed my mind about the peanuts and the monkeys. The pay is not irrelevant to who you get representing you, but it's not what everyone should be talking about. It's just easy, and people like things easy.
One subject bound to get people baying at the moon is pay rises for politicians. This has a particular resonance in Tasmania, where you still see "40% NEVER FORGET" bumper stickers, relating to a whopping pay rise our representatives voted themselves back in the 90s.
For a long time I have subscribed to the "pay peanuts, get monkeys" argument. If you want good people to go into politics, you have to offer to pay them something like they would be getting in their alternative occupation. So to get doctors, lawyers, CEOs and other successful people to down tools and enter parliament, the salaries have to be in their ballpark. We all know individual politicians who are venal, greedy and generally unpleasant, but I have always preferred to think that people who enter the system mostly do so for good reasons, and don't deserve to be tarred with that brush. I have argued that in the main our politicians are worth their salaries. I haven't had many mates.
I was mounting this defence at a barbecue today, in a debate with a couple who are fairly comfortably off themselves, but think politicians' pay rises are a disgrace. Then for some reason I started thinking out loud, (which is always dangerous), and questioning my own argument.
The peanuts argument assumes that "good" politicians need to be lured away from their well-paid and high-status positions as consultants, directors and managers, overseeing complex and sophisticated businesses, with many staff under their control. Because that's supposedly the best practice for governing.
But managing is what the public service is for! It's an old-fashioned idea, but it is the bedrock of the Westminster system. Elected ministers develop policy, with the advice of apolitical public servants, who then put the resulting policy into effect.
You do not need to have been a highly-paid Top Person to be a good politician. The next top parliamentarians might be currently teaching, or delivering mail, or driving a cab, rounding up cattle on a motorbike, or that lowest status of all occupations, minding children. One of our finest Prime Ministers, Ben Chifley, was a train driver.
Maybe the thing that would attract good people from all walks of life to a career in politics would be a change in the nature of it. For instance, some respect offered from one side to the other. Where are the collegial friendships between political opponents that used to be a feature of Australian politics? They exist, but have to be covered up because they are seen as liabilities instead of strengths.
So - I have changed my mind about the peanuts and the monkeys. The pay is not irrelevant to who you get representing you, but it's not what everyone should be talking about. It's just easy, and people like things easy.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Talking to Americans about capital punishment
We used to execute people here in Australia too - but we don't anymore. Like slavery, race and sex discrimination, execution is an abhorrent leftover of a earlier time. I am an opponent of the death penalty in all forms, for all crimes. Not everyone shares this view.
Today's execution in Georgia of Troy Davis might be the wake-up call to some Americans to seek the repeal of the death penalty. I do not know if Davis was innocent or guilty, but having a read a bit about the case, can anyone say there was no doubt? The political nature of the appeal process is simply disgusting, and an embarrassment to a country that seeks to lead the world in its dedication to fairness, justice and equality.
In today's news, new DNA evidence casts doubt on the guilt of the last man executed when George W. Bush was governor of Texas. If none of the humanitarian arguments for repeal make a difference to you, at least consider this: governments make mistakes. Please remove from their control the capacity to mistakenly kill someone. Join the NOT IN MY NAME campaign to repeal the death penalty across America.
But what about someone who is 100% guilty of the most depraved murder? Such as Lawrence Russell Brewer, executed yesterday in Texas for the murder of James Byrd Jr, dragged behind a truck to his death just because he was black? The victim's son said "You can't fight murder with murder … Life in prison would have been fine. I know he can't hurt my daddy anymore. I wish the state would take in mind that this isn't what we want." If he can forgive his father's murderer, what gives you or Governor Rick Perry or anyone else the right to take the man's life?
Countries that still practice capital punishment: Belarus · China · Cuba · Egypt · India · Iran · Israel · Japan · Malaysia · Mongolia · North Korea · Pakistan · Saudi Arabia · Singapore · South Korea · Taiwan · Tonga · United States · Vietnam
Remove your country from this list. Join the NOT IN MY NAME campaign to repeal the death penalty across America.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
I would like to keep writing a blog
OK, I went into my shell there for a while. Sorry if anyone was offended by my little rant, it was precious and self-pitying and not the way I prefer to be.
My clownsome workmate has been changing his Facebook profile’s date-of-birth every day, then loudly mocking the innocent souls who send him cheerful birthday wishes. After the third or fourth day I was getting sick of this, so in his absence one Friday afternoon I sat down at his laptop and simply wrote “Thanks for all the birthday wishes everyone. Drinks on me tonight!”
Unknown to me over the weekend several people got irate calls from him accusing them of doing it. I had forgotten about it when I got to work on Monday morning, where people were laughing about it. He wasn't. I said “Oh, I did that.” We were all surprised that he was so upset - he is known as a person who knows no embarrassment and loves to provoke it in others. He will impersonate someone else if it gets a laugh. But he was deeply offended, and I felt bad that I had done it. It’s technically illegal, and not something I would ever do to anyone else.
He effectively would not accept my apology and went on about it daily for two weeks, in front of all our colleagues. I said, “Well, I have apologised and that’s the end of it as far as I am concerned”. I shut down my Facebook, starting feeling quite depressed and guilty, and in that frame of mind decided to cease writing online.
This last week I have realised that this stupid business actually affected me quite deeply. I was shutting down in all facets of my life, and more or less scrunching up in a ball. I have just had a week of indigestion and mounting social anxiety. On my way to work on Thursday I felt that I would be able to get through the day if I could just hunker down with my headphones on and mind my own business.
The only problem would be if it was someone's birthday, in which case we would all be expected to stand around while clownsome workmate made one of his speeches. His life is a continuous cabaret stand-up routine, and I have decided I do not want to be part of his audience any more. As it happened it was someones birthday, and so things came to a head when I continued to work, with my headphones on, while he made his speech.
I don't really like to announce to people “I have social anxiety” but neither do I like to be rude. So I emailed the clownsome one to explain - I have a form of agoraphobia, and sometimes I just cannot stand to be part of a group. I just want to be invisible. What I need to say to him, but haven’t yet, is that although it is my problem not his, it is manageable unless there is someone performing constantly, who at any moment is going to involve you and pull you into his spotlight.
So - I was wrong to start shutting things down, as it can spiral inwards to the point where I am a mean, shrivelled, gibbering mess. As far as writing the blog is concerned, I have missed it, I think I need to keep doing it, and if would you would continue to read it I would be very much obliged.
My clownsome workmate has been changing his Facebook profile’s date-of-birth every day, then loudly mocking the innocent souls who send him cheerful birthday wishes. After the third or fourth day I was getting sick of this, so in his absence one Friday afternoon I sat down at his laptop and simply wrote “Thanks for all the birthday wishes everyone. Drinks on me tonight!”
Unknown to me over the weekend several people got irate calls from him accusing them of doing it. I had forgotten about it when I got to work on Monday morning, where people were laughing about it. He wasn't. I said “Oh, I did that.” We were all surprised that he was so upset - he is known as a person who knows no embarrassment and loves to provoke it in others. He will impersonate someone else if it gets a laugh. But he was deeply offended, and I felt bad that I had done it. It’s technically illegal, and not something I would ever do to anyone else.
He effectively would not accept my apology and went on about it daily for two weeks, in front of all our colleagues. I said, “Well, I have apologised and that’s the end of it as far as I am concerned”. I shut down my Facebook, starting feeling quite depressed and guilty, and in that frame of mind decided to cease writing online.
This last week I have realised that this stupid business actually affected me quite deeply. I was shutting down in all facets of my life, and more or less scrunching up in a ball. I have just had a week of indigestion and mounting social anxiety. On my way to work on Thursday I felt that I would be able to get through the day if I could just hunker down with my headphones on and mind my own business.
The only problem would be if it was someone's birthday, in which case we would all be expected to stand around while clownsome workmate made one of his speeches. His life is a continuous cabaret stand-up routine, and I have decided I do not want to be part of his audience any more. As it happened it was someones birthday, and so things came to a head when I continued to work, with my headphones on, while he made his speech.
I don't really like to announce to people “I have social anxiety” but neither do I like to be rude. So I emailed the clownsome one to explain - I have a form of agoraphobia, and sometimes I just cannot stand to be part of a group. I just want to be invisible. What I need to say to him, but haven’t yet, is that although it is my problem not his, it is manageable unless there is someone performing constantly, who at any moment is going to involve you and pull you into his spotlight.
So - I was wrong to start shutting things down, as it can spiral inwards to the point where I am a mean, shrivelled, gibbering mess. As far as writing the blog is concerned, I have missed it, I think I need to keep doing it, and if would you would continue to read it I would be very much obliged.
Monday, February 14, 2011
MONA - not actually for kids, in my opinion
We decided that this long weekend was the perfect time to visit MONA, David Walsh's brand new Museum of Old and New Art. I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I was sick of people talking about it - it has started to simmer down now, so I felt ready to go and see for myself. It has billed itself as "subversive" and "adult" with lots of sex and death, but everyone I have spoken to has insisted that kids would love it, and there is nothing really offensive on show, unless you go into the "Gallery of Sex and Death". That sounded easy to avoid.
Now, having been there, I would actually say do not take your under-tens unless you have been there before and have a route planned to avoid the confronting stuff. Or you are a hipster with hipster kids who are exposed to sex and death pretty regularly - they will, I agree, think the whole place is a hoot. There is "15 and over" material all over the place. It is marked on the black map in red, but that is actually hard to consult in the dark. One large space was full of Egyptian antiquities, with a room of vibrant contemporary portraits opening off it - fantastic stuff. A tiny bit of nudity here and there. However on the end wall of the big space was a painting by either Juan d'Avila or someone similar - a painting of the last camp of explorers Burke and Wills, interpreted as a lurid gay sex scene with added bestiality. Observe the brilliant play on words. All you can do is steer your kids away, and stand where you hope you can block the part where the kangaroo is behind Burke who is on all fours and ... Sigh. David Walsh is so determined to offend people, and I guess I was offended. So well done Dave. I had to distract Michael by getting him to tell me all the names of the Egyptian gods painted on a nearby sarcophagus.
I agree with everyone who say that it is a wonderful place. A lot of what is there is not my cup of tea, but when I go back on my own there are heaps of things I want to have another look at, and I have no idea how much that I just didn't see. Both my kids were delighted with some things and actually quite upset by others.
Each visitor is given a top-of-the-range iPod (pretty much an iPhone that doesn't make calls) and headphones - you press a button regularly as you move through the museum - which gives it your location automatically. Then you can scroll through the thumbnails it gives you, to find the piece you are standing in front of. Then you can find out about it by navigating through various kinds of content. At the top level is a summary - the bare bones. Other stuff is under the icons Ideas, Artwank, Gonzo and Media. The icon for Artwank is a graffiti drawing of a cock and balls. Pretty subversive.
I didn't like having to carry the technology. I hid my headphones and Michael's behind a pillar, and kept my iPhone in my pocket most of the way. I suppose it was nice that there weren't labels and interpretation panels everywhere, but as I am not an iPhone person, it wasn't something that got me closer to the artwork - it was just this heavy thing I had to carry. iPhones are the hottest thing in the world, and I can see that it's an effective way to communicate to a lot of people. It does feel odd when you are looking at some amazing thing, and everyone else around you is looking at their iPhone.
Part of the idea is that as you are looking at something, you choose a Love or Hate icon and give them feedback. Elf and I didn't bother but Marcus was doing it enthusiastically. Afterwards it mostly said "76% of visitors also love this" or something like that. At some point it gave him a message that really upset him - we didn't see it but it involved the F word, he said. At the end he said that although there were things he liked, overall he did not like the place. I would recommend that kids under 10 not be given the iPhone.
There is a video piece that we all loved, projected on to the floor of the lowest level. A Korean artist filmed a busy intersection from a high angle - many pedestrians crossing to and from a large traffic island, and lots of traffic. The artist's hands fill the foreground and move around acting as though they are organising the cars and people - holding back the cars at the red light, ushering people safely across the street and then giving the cars and buses a little push as the light goes green again. It's light-hearted, gentle and beautifully executed.
After a little more the kids were pleading to leave - which is standard for any museum. We left and had lunch. We did not go to the brasserie, the cafe or the wine bar. We did not partake of the fine Tasmanian ingredients manipulated by world class chefs, or the micro-brewed super-beers or wines created on the premises (the whole thing is built in the middle of a winery). We drove to the Hog's Breath Cafe, home of giant steaks and extreme sports enthusiasts - mainly to offend David Walsh.
Now, having been there, I would actually say do not take your under-tens unless you have been there before and have a route planned to avoid the confronting stuff. Or you are a hipster with hipster kids who are exposed to sex and death pretty regularly - they will, I agree, think the whole place is a hoot. There is "15 and over" material all over the place. It is marked on the black map in red, but that is actually hard to consult in the dark. One large space was full of Egyptian antiquities, with a room of vibrant contemporary portraits opening off it - fantastic stuff. A tiny bit of nudity here and there. However on the end wall of the big space was a painting by either Juan d'Avila or someone similar - a painting of the last camp of explorers Burke and Wills, interpreted as a lurid gay sex scene with added bestiality. Observe the brilliant play on words. All you can do is steer your kids away, and stand where you hope you can block the part where the kangaroo is behind Burke who is on all fours and ... Sigh. David Walsh is so determined to offend people, and I guess I was offended. So well done Dave. I had to distract Michael by getting him to tell me all the names of the Egyptian gods painted on a nearby sarcophagus.
I agree with everyone who say that it is a wonderful place. A lot of what is there is not my cup of tea, but when I go back on my own there are heaps of things I want to have another look at, and I have no idea how much that I just didn't see. Both my kids were delighted with some things and actually quite upset by others.
Each visitor is given a top-of-the-range iPod (pretty much an iPhone that doesn't make calls) and headphones - you press a button regularly as you move through the museum - which gives it your location automatically. Then you can scroll through the thumbnails it gives you, to find the piece you are standing in front of. Then you can find out about it by navigating through various kinds of content. At the top level is a summary - the bare bones. Other stuff is under the icons Ideas, Artwank, Gonzo and Media. The icon for Artwank is a graffiti drawing of a cock and balls. Pretty subversive.
I didn't like having to carry the technology. I hid my headphones and Michael's behind a pillar, and kept my iPhone in my pocket most of the way. I suppose it was nice that there weren't labels and interpretation panels everywhere, but as I am not an iPhone person, it wasn't something that got me closer to the artwork - it was just this heavy thing I had to carry. iPhones are the hottest thing in the world, and I can see that it's an effective way to communicate to a lot of people. It does feel odd when you are looking at some amazing thing, and everyone else around you is looking at their iPhone.
Part of the idea is that as you are looking at something, you choose a Love or Hate icon and give them feedback. Elf and I didn't bother but Marcus was doing it enthusiastically. Afterwards it mostly said "76% of visitors also love this" or something like that. At some point it gave him a message that really upset him - we didn't see it but it involved the F word, he said. At the end he said that although there were things he liked, overall he did not like the place. I would recommend that kids under 10 not be given the iPhone.
There is a video piece that we all loved, projected on to the floor of the lowest level. A Korean artist filmed a busy intersection from a high angle - many pedestrians crossing to and from a large traffic island, and lots of traffic. The artist's hands fill the foreground and move around acting as though they are organising the cars and people - holding back the cars at the red light, ushering people safely across the street and then giving the cars and buses a little push as the light goes green again. It's light-hearted, gentle and beautifully executed.
After a little more the kids were pleading to leave - which is standard for any museum. We left and had lunch. We did not go to the brasserie, the cafe or the wine bar. We did not partake of the fine Tasmanian ingredients manipulated by world class chefs, or the micro-brewed super-beers or wines created on the premises (the whole thing is built in the middle of a winery). We drove to the Hog's Breath Cafe, home of giant steaks and extreme sports enthusiasts - mainly to offend David Walsh.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Thank you for shutting up about MONA
By the time I left work today I was ready to strangle someone. Possibly myself.
Everyone went to the opening of MONA on Friday night, then went back on Saturday and/or Sunday. For readers outside Tasmania and/or the fine art world, MONA is the Museum of Old and New Art, a huge, privately owned art collection in a purpose-built architectural wonder. The whole shebang is open to the public, free. Pretty amazing. The word is that jet-ins from New York and Europe were gob-smacked by the whole thing, a bit incredulous that it could be HERE, just up the road from the Balmoral Motor Inn at that. The owner is a mathematician and professional gambler on a massive scale. He is going to live there, in the museum. It's all very Bond Villain.
I didn't go. Didn't have an invite to the party, but also just, you know, it's going to be there for while and I don't like crowds. It is unanimously acclaimed as amazing. One of my more clownsome workmates did not have an invite (I think there were about 2000 sent out) but weasled his way in. Each time I took off my headphones today he was regaling everyone with another story of his vodka-driven exploits. He climbed on the outdoor stage and made a speech just before the main act were about to come on. He was expecting to be scruffed by security but they didn't bother. After a while he says he got bored and hopped down.
It's starting to sound like I just don't like fun isn't it? I am certainly a misery guts at work. Clownsome workmate is actually a great guy and everyone loves him, but he is ON all the time, and it wears me down. Being at work today was like being the only one who didn't go to the Royal Hobart Show, when all around you people are donking each other with the giant inflatable squeaky hammers they brought home from it. You don't feel envy, so much as "shut the feck up!!!!"
Possibly its the media and marketing of MONA that's rubbed me up the wrong way. Every public pronouncement seems to emphasise how controversial and outrageous the art is. It's like the Turner Prize in the UK - always controversial and outrageous. Bond Villain has called MONA "an adult Disneyland", and "subversive". Like the Turner Prize it is grabbing 95% of the local mainstream media coverage of fine art. There is a LOT of good art being made that doesn't deal in sex and death, at least not directly.
It's a sad admission to make but most of what I experience as "art" makes me like "art" less. I am not gallery hopping but I am living and working on the outer edge of the art world. Once I was a kid who would bashfully admit to his sport-loving mates that he liked art. These days I don't even call myself an artist - I'm a bloke who does a bit of this and that but I am much more passionate about sport.
As an outsider looking in, one thing that does fascinate me is the completely positive reception the whole thing has got from the State Government, city council etc. The Premier and Governor were at the opening. Presumably they entered the Sex and Death gallery like most of the guests. Bond Villain is so keen to subvert something, anything. He has said he will be disappointed if people are not outraged, and that the only form they will have in the place is a complaints form. And the establishment are saying: "We love the wall of vaginas! We love the machine that makes food into realistic looking poo! We love the blasted corpse of a suicide bomber made out of Belgian chocolate!" They don't give a hoot about being subverted - look at the tourist dollars and the boost to the construction industry - and it's cost them nothing!
Villain says if people aren't offended, he will swap out the artworks for others in his collection until they are. What if the attendance drops off and the flow-on to the economy starts to flag? At what stage will we have a Bill Henson-type situation with the vice squad dropping in to confiscate the works? You have to imagine at some point Villain's dogged intention to upset people might outweigh the beneficial side-effects in the minds of the great and good who run the outside world.
And that right there is why people say I think about stuff too much. What I should do is shut up, get on a ferry, go out there, have fun, have a good look and THEN have something to say. OK, so consider this the Before instalment of a Before / After exercise.
Everyone went to the opening of MONA on Friday night, then went back on Saturday and/or Sunday. For readers outside Tasmania and/or the fine art world, MONA is the Museum of Old and New Art, a huge, privately owned art collection in a purpose-built architectural wonder. The whole shebang is open to the public, free. Pretty amazing. The word is that jet-ins from New York and Europe were gob-smacked by the whole thing, a bit incredulous that it could be HERE, just up the road from the Balmoral Motor Inn at that. The owner is a mathematician and professional gambler on a massive scale. He is going to live there, in the museum. It's all very Bond Villain.
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| image © felicetti pty ltd |
It's starting to sound like I just don't like fun isn't it? I am certainly a misery guts at work. Clownsome workmate is actually a great guy and everyone loves him, but he is ON all the time, and it wears me down. Being at work today was like being the only one who didn't go to the Royal Hobart Show, when all around you people are donking each other with the giant inflatable squeaky hammers they brought home from it. You don't feel envy, so much as "shut the feck up!!!!"
Possibly its the media and marketing of MONA that's rubbed me up the wrong way. Every public pronouncement seems to emphasise how controversial and outrageous the art is. It's like the Turner Prize in the UK - always controversial and outrageous. Bond Villain has called MONA "an adult Disneyland", and "subversive". Like the Turner Prize it is grabbing 95% of the local mainstream media coverage of fine art. There is a LOT of good art being made that doesn't deal in sex and death, at least not directly.
It's a sad admission to make but most of what I experience as "art" makes me like "art" less. I am not gallery hopping but I am living and working on the outer edge of the art world. Once I was a kid who would bashfully admit to his sport-loving mates that he liked art. These days I don't even call myself an artist - I'm a bloke who does a bit of this and that but I am much more passionate about sport.
As an outsider looking in, one thing that does fascinate me is the completely positive reception the whole thing has got from the State Government, city council etc. The Premier and Governor were at the opening. Presumably they entered the Sex and Death gallery like most of the guests. Bond Villain is so keen to subvert something, anything. He has said he will be disappointed if people are not outraged, and that the only form they will have in the place is a complaints form. And the establishment are saying: "We love the wall of vaginas! We love the machine that makes food into realistic looking poo! We love the blasted corpse of a suicide bomber made out of Belgian chocolate!" They don't give a hoot about being subverted - look at the tourist dollars and the boost to the construction industry - and it's cost them nothing!
Villain says if people aren't offended, he will swap out the artworks for others in his collection until they are. What if the attendance drops off and the flow-on to the economy starts to flag? At what stage will we have a Bill Henson-type situation with the vice squad dropping in to confiscate the works? You have to imagine at some point Villain's dogged intention to upset people might outweigh the beneficial side-effects in the minds of the great and good who run the outside world.
And that right there is why people say I think about stuff too much. What I should do is shut up, get on a ferry, go out there, have fun, have a good look and THEN have something to say. OK, so consider this the Before instalment of a Before / After exercise.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Tiger Airways is a disgrace
I just don't understand super cheap airlines. How exactly do they make any money? Is it from people booking a super cheap flight then getting stung for every single thing possible? How on earth do they get any repeat business? Presumably the Civil Aviation Authority and OH & S regulators set a minimum on how crappy their planes and terminals can be. They must be at least not dangerous or unhealthy for their staff, if not their passengers.
So how is it a viable business? I ask this as Elf flew back from Melbourne yesterday with Tiger Airways, after having flown over with Virgin Blue (it was booked for her by her work). The Virgin flight was unremarkable - the Tiger experience was irredeemably dreadful.
Her 3.45 flight finally took off at 5.15 - one of nine flights delayed (one other was cancelled). So the terminal was chock full of unhappy people. The bins were overflowing, the toilets were closed for maintenance. The cafe was outdoors, and occupied solidly by smokers also talking loudly on mobiles. Flights that were delayed came up on the board as "closed", adding to the mild hysteria. NOTE: there was no fog, snow or hail. Just no planes. Also the Tiger terminal is a stand-alone Third World shed at Tullamarine, 10 minutes walk from the relative comfort, security, fun and chuckles of the First World main terminal.
Elf said the general vibe was that none of the Tiger staff knew what was happening. Hobart passengers were called to the front at one stage, then told "As you know your flight is now leaving at 5.00..." No, they didn't know, and why were they now at the front of a queue where they were actually not allowed to check in yet?
At home I was trying to find out when to expect Elf to arrive. She doesn't have a mobile. Tiger are not in the phone book here although they fly into Hobart. (There is also not one single Tiger sign at Hobart Airport). When you call the Melbourne number a male voice says (more or less) "Dude, what do the think the website is for? Get off the phone..... [time passes] ... OK, so you're still here. Sigh. Press 1 for bookings, press 2..." And none of the options encompasses arrivals/departures. Their website has a section that looks like it will help, but rather than give information about individual flights it claims that "81% of our flights are on time" and goes on to gloat about how excellent that is.
Meanwhile Elf was now in the air. She decided to embrace the spirit of the new age of flight, and buy some M&Ms from the hostie. $3, credit card only. "Sorry, we don't handle any cash". At least the plane didn't crash into the sea. As they approached Hobart the captain said on the PA "We'll be in Hobart just a few minutes after the scheduled time". Met with rueful laughter from the passengers, I imagine.
It strikes me that every Tiger flight is a bit like a minor hostage crisis. Anxious families wait for news. The group sit around on their possessions, in the clothes they were wearing when they were captured. Unlikely alliances are struck. Their captors use confusion as a tactic to divide and rule. Basic human requirements are denied. Once the hostages are strapped in they are faced with unreasonable demands (if you are thirsty you had better have a credit card) - which only the strongest can resist. The captors attempt brainwashing ("just a few minutes after the scheduled time"). The captors attempt to control the flow of information. Once their demands are granted, the captives are dumped in the dark at an anonymous location (no Tiger signs, no Tiger desk, no Tiger staff). Thank God everyone is reunited with their families, but what if this shadowy "airline" were to strike again?
So how is it a viable business? I ask this as Elf flew back from Melbourne yesterday with Tiger Airways, after having flown over with Virgin Blue (it was booked for her by her work). The Virgin flight was unremarkable - the Tiger experience was irredeemably dreadful.
Her 3.45 flight finally took off at 5.15 - one of nine flights delayed (one other was cancelled). So the terminal was chock full of unhappy people. The bins were overflowing, the toilets were closed for maintenance. The cafe was outdoors, and occupied solidly by smokers also talking loudly on mobiles. Flights that were delayed came up on the board as "closed", adding to the mild hysteria. NOTE: there was no fog, snow or hail. Just no planes. Also the Tiger terminal is a stand-alone Third World shed at Tullamarine, 10 minutes walk from the relative comfort, security, fun and chuckles of the First World main terminal.
Elf said the general vibe was that none of the Tiger staff knew what was happening. Hobart passengers were called to the front at one stage, then told "As you know your flight is now leaving at 5.00..." No, they didn't know, and why were they now at the front of a queue where they were actually not allowed to check in yet?
At home I was trying to find out when to expect Elf to arrive. She doesn't have a mobile. Tiger are not in the phone book here although they fly into Hobart. (There is also not one single Tiger sign at Hobart Airport). When you call the Melbourne number a male voice says (more or less) "Dude, what do the think the website is for? Get off the phone..... [time passes] ... OK, so you're still here. Sigh. Press 1 for bookings, press 2..." And none of the options encompasses arrivals/departures. Their website has a section that looks like it will help, but rather than give information about individual flights it claims that "81% of our flights are on time" and goes on to gloat about how excellent that is.
Meanwhile Elf was now in the air. She decided to embrace the spirit of the new age of flight, and buy some M&Ms from the hostie. $3, credit card only. "Sorry, we don't handle any cash". At least the plane didn't crash into the sea. As they approached Hobart the captain said on the PA "We'll be in Hobart just a few minutes after the scheduled time". Met with rueful laughter from the passengers, I imagine.
It strikes me that every Tiger flight is a bit like a minor hostage crisis. Anxious families wait for news. The group sit around on their possessions, in the clothes they were wearing when they were captured. Unlikely alliances are struck. Their captors use confusion as a tactic to divide and rule. Basic human requirements are denied. Once the hostages are strapped in they are faced with unreasonable demands (if you are thirsty you had better have a credit card) - which only the strongest can resist. The captors attempt brainwashing ("just a few minutes after the scheduled time"). The captors attempt to control the flow of information. Once their demands are granted, the captives are dumped in the dark at an anonymous location (no Tiger signs, no Tiger desk, no Tiger staff). Thank God everyone is reunited with their families, but what if this shadowy "airline" were to strike again?
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Aggrieved at clownsome referee
We lost 2-1 at soccer last night - I think perhaps the lowest score since I've been playing indoor. We played OK generally but our shooting was poor and their goalie was talented. I like to play pretty hard, and I had a series of clashes with one particular guy on the other side.
We were one goal down with a minute to go, and my adversary had the ball. He was a bit slow getting rid of it, and I took it off him. He didn't like the way I did it, mouthed off and lashed out at me, giving away a free kick. With 5 seconds on the clock I took the kick and sprayed it. As the hooter I sounded I went to shake hands but he refused.
The referee we always have lately is a clown, and usually pretty inconsistent. The first time we had him, I enquired politely what a free kick was for. He replied "It's a bit hard to explain..." Clown. He can't work the remote-control scoreboard, so we spend the whole game wondering what the score really is.
He can apparently read minds. He has given free kicks on occasions when I have won the ball with a bit of incidental contact because "you weren't really going for the ball". He is often late on the court, arriving up to 2 minutes after the clock has started running. Last night he was late for the start and again for the 2nd half, which is just ridiculous. The timing is all automatic and there is no way to reset the clock, so that time (which we pay for) is just lost.
I was feeling generally aggrieved at the clown, the stroppy opponent who wouldn't shake, and of course losing. There's nothing you can say about bad refereeing. His decision is final, and if you've lost the match it just sounds like sour grapes anyway. But I am sick of waiting for him to come on the court, so I vented my frustration to the centre manager. I pointed out that if a player is late on court the team is penalised 2 goals. He didn't really get my point of view - I'm sure it was just another whinge to him.
I know this is not the World Cup. My team are all close to, or over 40 and at times we probably look like a sweaty unfit pack of sad dads. But - we pay to play. We are customers. There's got to be a bit of respect for the players from the referees.
We were one goal down with a minute to go, and my adversary had the ball. He was a bit slow getting rid of it, and I took it off him. He didn't like the way I did it, mouthed off and lashed out at me, giving away a free kick. With 5 seconds on the clock I took the kick and sprayed it. As the hooter I sounded I went to shake hands but he refused.
The referee we always have lately is a clown, and usually pretty inconsistent. The first time we had him, I enquired politely what a free kick was for. He replied "It's a bit hard to explain..." Clown. He can't work the remote-control scoreboard, so we spend the whole game wondering what the score really is.
He can apparently read minds. He has given free kicks on occasions when I have won the ball with a bit of incidental contact because "you weren't really going for the ball". He is often late on the court, arriving up to 2 minutes after the clock has started running. Last night he was late for the start and again for the 2nd half, which is just ridiculous. The timing is all automatic and there is no way to reset the clock, so that time (which we pay for) is just lost.
I was feeling generally aggrieved at the clown, the stroppy opponent who wouldn't shake, and of course losing. There's nothing you can say about bad refereeing. His decision is final, and if you've lost the match it just sounds like sour grapes anyway. But I am sick of waiting for him to come on the court, so I vented my frustration to the centre manager. I pointed out that if a player is late on court the team is penalised 2 goals. He didn't really get my point of view - I'm sure it was just another whinge to him.
I know this is not the World Cup. My team are all close to, or over 40 and at times we probably look like a sweaty unfit pack of sad dads. But - we pay to play. We are customers. There's got to be a bit of respect for the players from the referees.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Football rant - enter at your own risk
[Picture: Craig Borrow, News Ltd]
What the hell is going on at Richmond? Their coach is not the worst ever. The playing list is respectable, with the bonuses of a 34-year-old star getting a second wind, and a Brownlow-medal winner who has just fallen in their lap (since the other 15 clubs took a step backwards due to his age, dodgy hamstrings and drug issues).
But the results are just pathetic. They are underperforming massively. They have put it together here and there for a few quarters in the four games so far, but lost them all and deserved to.
I am of the mind that Terry Wallace should stand down as soon as possible. I honestly don't think it matters who takes over. I'm serious. It really doesn't matter. If they got a new coach and then came out straight away and played like champions, it would only make me despise the players even more. Wallace has been there nearly five years, this is his list, and it's riddled with cheats and bludgers. He's not going to be able to do anything in the next five months that he has failed to do in five years. So Terry should do the right thing and clear out his desk.
I have a lot of seething regrets about things that have happened, but it's not going to change anything to revisit those. So I will try to workshop some solutions.
The following are on the market for smugly underperforming regularly
Nathan Brown
Jordan McMahon
Jay Schulz
Cleve Hughes
The following are on the market for being not up to scratch due to skill limitations and/or age (neither of which are their fault)
Jake King
Jarrad Oakley Nicholls
Shane Edwards
Kayne Pettifer
Kane Johnson
Troy Simmonds
Adam Pattison
The fans have been howling for Richard Tambling to be ditched for years, but I would actually persist with him. Deledio is another smug underachiever, but his potential is such we just must hang onto him. Also in the "giving us nothing but need to be patient" category is Mark Coughlan - surely one day he'll be fit?
Polak and Cousins are special cases. The club owes them a duty of care for the rest of the season and needs to see if they want to continue in 2010. There is certainly lots of room on the list once the 11 above have shot through.
Richo and Joel Bowden have been great servants of the club through awful times. They have their knockers but I say they've earned the right to play on as long as they wish. The rest of the older players (Brown, Johnson, Simmonds) have got to go to effect change. For the rest of the season, give the next tier of players a chance to show by their deeds if they are really good enough to represent the club in the good times that we hope are ahead. They are certainly good enough to get a game ahead of some of the rabble that has been out on the field this season.
Is it really too much to ask that the Tigers field 22 players who really want to do their best?
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