...Though noticeably more forced.

Dear All,

Previous posts, and comments relating to them, have led me to reinforce the following point.

The following character is NOT me. The following character is fictitious, and though unavoidably based within my experiences, education and thoughts, should be read without the author at the forefront of your minds.

With love and apologies to any fellow social science students reading this. Writing happens to be an excellent way to cement new ideas. =)

Christopher.

***

You can always see those images of urban life on the TV. You know the type. The panning image of a metropolis skyline. The montage of busy streets, people dodging other people, rushing to and from. The jamming of city streets, impatient drivers leaning on horns. It's an organised mess of noise and interaction. A vast nest of networks, ever more complex as we march further and further into the information age.

These images that are designed to depersonalise city life, destroy individuality, and comment on the society that so many of us are a part of. Society that has conditioned us to believe that we are individuals anyway. That we can do what we like, when we like, how we like, and who we like. And I suppose that's true. We like to think we have choice - that we can go where we like. But there are so many forces outside of the individual, forces that constantly mould and shape our so called individuality. We can't go to the shops on December 25. We have to wear clothes, or run the risk of losing our freedom. Our unique sense of style is dictated by the whims of designers, the limits of technology, and whether we are really able to afford it. Those who strive to be different, try to separate themselves from the crowd, always end up doing it in the same way as every other person who thinks like that.

But so what?

The individual might just be a myth, in fact, I'm fairly certain that it is.

Maybe humanity is only valid as a collective.

And if it is, I think that it is something that even if we wanted to change it, we couldn't.

Love is an emotion that many would say is a fundamental of the human condition. But is it just a socially constructed state of mind? An unavoidable social fact, instilled into us from our birth to our death? The basis of all those Disney movies you grew up with, the institution of marriage, the world's greatest literature.

What about attraction? Is it as romantic as we would like it to be? Or merely a primal instinct, an evolutionary trait in order to ensure perhaps the only common goal of all life - reproduction.

But are these thoughts even relevant? Does it matter whether all our thoughts and emotions are moulded in ways that we don't even realise by society's subtle tendrils?

Time, I think, would perhaps be better spent not dwelling, moping, and wondering about the state we are in, the society that we could be. Time would be better spent embracing that society has allowed ourselves to believe that we are individuals, and no matter how thinly veiled this is, it doesn't change the way we have be bought up to feel.

And thus, this story is the experience of an individual - it is not a series of words dreamed up by the collective. And though I draw my words from thoughts already well pondered, from emotions almost unanimously experienced, the lens through which they are expressed is that of an individual. And though the lens is almost entirely moulded by outside forces, it is this moulding that has allowed the lens to belong to an individual.

And so I seek to personalise that urban montage. I want to zoom in on an entirely personal interaction between two people.

The interaction is unspoken. It is so subtle, fleeting and so personal that the event goes entirely unnoticed by the milling crowds. It is not part of the collective. But an experience shared by two individuals.

It was always a surprise when she appeared. A shock. She was sitting on bench, conveniently located to take a rest from the bustling city centre, surrounded by what he assumed were her friends. He hadn't seen them before. They looked happy. But was that a glimmer of sadness on her face between laughs? He doubted it. He was trying to see what he wished he could see. A glimmer that maybe he was still part of her. But it was only laughter and the glint of teeth that reached his searching gaze.

She looked up at that moment. Him, caught in a ponderous moment. Her, taken by surprise. Her smile slid from her cheeks. Adrenaline surged. Fight or flight - heartbeat jumping the gun. He broke eye contact, and walked away – short of breath -wondering why he couldn’t stand to face her.

She returned her gaze to her friends. They’d not noticed her distraction. The grin returned to her face. Though noticeably more forced. She glanced toward his retreating back, but he had already been engulfed, back into the milling crowds.

***

<3

Closure and admin...

Well - having just previously blogged on something that was a breaking news story, I have some closure related to the previous entry.

Firstly, happily, Kyle Sandilands has lost his job at Channel Ten judging Australian Idol after the aforementioned radio controversy.

Secondly, as I mentioned on the end of the previous entry - the PM did condemn the incident.

Thirdly, there has been a reaction to the incident from advertisers - with many reviewing their choice to advertise with the station, including large companies like Optus.

Fourthly, Kyle and Jackie-O's morning show has been taken off the air, pending a review.

So there you go - I think the reaction is much more suitable now.

***

In other news...

It occurs to me that many of my readers use the email subscription service this page operates. The advantage to this is that you get sent new entry as they are published.

The the disadvantage, and this has just occurred to me, is rather embarrassing. For you see, my editing process is highly unprofessional. I do a quick edit first, followed by a soft publish, assuming that no one will read it until I have been able to make sure that all the grammar, spelling and formatting is correct. I find it much easier to do my editing seeing the entry on the page, rather than in the box that Blogger provides me.


I imagine that this means that you get sent an unedited version of all my entries. For which I apologise profusely for. I do not ever intend to subject anyone to grammar and spelling that atrocious.

I also apologise if you get sent the entry multiple times, as I edit the entry multiple times before I advertise it as "published". Please let me know if this is the case.

I will review my editing process from now on, in the hope that all my readers get a slightly more professional final product.

Commercial radio - raping our airwaves?

Being fourteen wasn't particularly fun. In year eight I was fourteen. I stand by year eight being the single worst year in high school. Behaviour was atrocious all round, severe bullying was at its peak, and many people were seeking to cement the highest place possible in the unforgiving high school social ladder.

And no doubt there is also some crazy stuff going on with hormones (as scientists so often tell us in order to make excuses for teenage rattyness).

Now what does being fourteen have to do with anything? Well - anyone who has been connected to media sources in the last 24 hours will have noticed a bit of an uproar over a Kyle (urgh. big surprise) and Jackie-O radio segment aired on Wednesday.

I'm going to give you some "facts" (or at least, as fact as possible - having been reported by both ABC, and seemingly confirmed by listening to the radio segment in question) about this case, and then I am going to ask you to watch the YouTube "video" (it's actually just audio) below.

We have the Kyle and Jackie morning show. For those who are unaware I disdain Kyle Sandilands - just so you know where my personal bias lies.

We have a child aged fourteen come onto an "entertainment" show to be questioned about her sexual activity and drug use.

We have aforementioned child hooked up to a lie detector.

We have a mother who has granted permission to have her child on the show, granted permission to have the child hooked up to a lie detector, and has bought to the show a series of questions that she wishes to ask her daughter.



We what we are left with is a fourteen year old girl who has been raped, and pushed into publicly admitting it on air. Now lets make the assumption that this was not fabricated by the mother and daughter as a publicity stunt (and if it turns out later on that it is, I'm going to be even angrier than I am now).

Now - I'll let this out nice and early in the piece. I think that this entire segment in nearly every way is absolutely, and undeniably, disgusting.

Listen to the introduction to the segment, after having listened to the entire interview. Ms Jackie O - our seemingly mature and caring presenter, introduced the segment laughing while saying "she's [the girl in question] not happy".

And then all the girl can answer when asked "How are you?":

"I'm scared." And apparently the lie detector confirmed this.

"It wouldn't be fair on any child," is Jackie's response.

No. It wouldn't. Shame you didn't stop it right there.

This is a live radio segment, broadcast on a morning show - the prime time of radio - entirely devoted to questioning a minor about illegal activities she may have been a part of. Let's not forget that fourteen is under the age of sexual consent (I'm not 100% sure on the legalities surrounding this issue, so I may be wrong in assuming that the activity is against the law) and that she has already - apparently - admitted to smoking an illicit substance.

Thus, I think I can safely say that the idea of the segment to start with was in questionable, if not appalling taste. I believe that the broadcaster (2day FM) should be ashamed that this even got past an approval stage.

I also believe that the two presenters have a lot to answer for. Jackie-O redeemed herself slightly by being the "mature" voice after the revelation that this child had been raped (no doubt the producers would have been going nuts in the studio signaling them both to cut it...so we can't assume that she did this of her own accord). But I think Kyle's fantastic response was pure radio gold (oh please, please note the sarcasm):

Child: "Uh um, okay, I got raped when I was 12 years old!"
*silence*
Kyle (in his defense, somewhat uncertainly): "Right...and is that the uh...only experience you've had?"

That, my dear readers, is why I dislike Kyle Sandilands: "sweet, you got raped, that's kinda interesting, but really, we don't care about that, we just want to know, you know, if you've had sex?"

An apology is not good enough here. There needs to be accountability within the commercial radio business. There needs to be some responsibility taken

Many of you will remember the recent sketch aired on television show: the Chaser's War on Everything. Best summed up by the following news extract:

The 'Make a 'realistic' Wish Foundation' skit purported to be from a foundation which "helps thousands of kids to lower their extravagance and selfishness".

The skit signed off with the line: "Why go to any trouble when they're only going to die anyway?"

-http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2009/06/04/2589532.htm

This skit was slammed in the media, and the following day Prime Minister Kevin Rudd told the Chaser team, the following day, to "hang [their] heads in shame". The show was taken off air for two weeks, and as I understand it a member of the approval team was demoted for letting the skit go to air (apologies - I cannot recall the source).

Now this is a sketch that asked a very difficult and serious question, masked with very black comedy. We make donations to the Make-a-Wish foundation without second though - I entirely support the work they do, and gladly donate. What the Chaser team did - earning them a huge slap in the face from the Australian public - was ask the question "why do we donate to sick kids who have grown up in a very wealthy country, with a generally high standard of living?"

I think it's a very valid social observation, highly unnecessary and pretty distasteful, but definitely valid.

So why did I bring this up?

Well - it has some to my attention that there is a hideous inequality with the reaction to these two incidents.

We have here a radio station who has aired a segment that from the very word go, disregarded societal values, morals, and ethics, all in pursuit of listeners and, ultimately, more money from advertisers. In the process a young girl - not an actor (I hope...) - has had to reveal to the nation that she has experienced sexual assault at the devastating age of twelve.

2day FM should review its approval processes. Editors and producers who did approve the segment should be reprimanded severely, and I wouldn't say no to firing Kyle and Jackie O (but then, I would have liked that regardless of this incident, and sadly, I don't believe that this is enough for them to lose their jobs over).

I would love to see the broadcaster donate any profit raised from advertising during the show to go to organisations supporting rape victims. I would also like to see the two presenters donate their wages earned from the show to the same organisations. And I would love to see the same condemnation that our dear Prime Minister directed toward the Chaser boys to also be directed to Kyle, Jackie-O and 2day FM, because this story, in my humble teenage opinion, is far more disgusting and insulting than the Chasers team have ever been.

On perhaps a lighter note - it is fantastic that the girl in question is receiving counselling, and that 2day FM has offered to foot the bill. Hopefully it will shine a spot light onto the issue of rape - indeed rape involving people as young as twelve - and spark a national discussion. But at the expensive of a public confession, with possible untold psychological damage? That's a tough call to make.

There are so many more dimensions to this issue that I have barely touched upon, and I am aware of this. Please, feel free to comment any criticism, alternative views, additional information, or just an addition to the above commentary.

EDIT@ 7:15pm 31 July 2009
A reader has just bought the following article to my attention:
http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,25860085-5012974,00.html

PRIME Minister Kevin Rudd last night joined a chorus of community leaders speaking out against the "humiliation" and "abuse" of a 14-year-old girl during a controversial stunt on The Kyle And Jackie O Show.

I apologise for missing this originally. I did perform a search of the ABC news website (a source which I trust a little more highly than the Herald Sun :P) and did not find any mention of Rudd in regards to this issue.

Understanding...not just insurance

There are so many things in life. Human life. So many. Those undefinable links between them. Are they socially constructed...or embedded, decided from our birth, written in the Bible with DNA ink...?

Complexity.

The undecided plethora of choices unanswered. A mess of lines and crosses. Or an organised interconnectedness of the status quo? A mass transit system. A to B. Remember to pass go. Collect your 200 dollars. Feed it to the vicious cycle vending machine of capitalism. Kick it when it fails to give the change that is inevitable.

Though through this, simplicity does not depart. It exists in a complex and convoluted embodiment, simple in one eye...simple, yet different in the other. But can it be seen with both?

The flesh beneath the skin is surely just that. Switch the lens, see it with both. Mitosis of emotions - one become two, two become four, four become eight, eight becomes sixteen - until the numbers become meaningless. A scientifically explainable process, mathematically patterned - but is that really the only way?

It starts with a feeling, made into two, then multiplied. Multiplied by two.

It must be hard to be the number two. Knowing that life is resting on your shoulders. A couple. A pair. An item. The power of two.

Emotions to infinity - a meaningless and inexplicable mess. Except with the rationality of mathematics.

Humans are irrational. QED?

Then how can they produce the rationality of science.

It cannot be the only way.

Trust.

The forgotten product of a bygone future. What does that even mean? Trust.

The answer is trust.

The answer is always trust.

Do you trust me? That's the only way to a whole new world...a wondrous place...for you and me.

Trust...blind faith in the ever pursued myth of egalitarianism...?

The art of trust and the art of deceit...synonymous, or the antonym that so many of us would like to believe that it is?

Knowing when to lie. To maintain trust. Why is it the answer must always be trust?

I would not lie to keep your faith blind.
We do not trust each other, therefore we love each other.

Trust. When to lie, when to be honest. When to smile, when to deny. When to hold on, when to let them fly.




What is the answer to nothingness? Trust.

Trust is the answer to everything.

Vagueness.

Raises more questions than it answers. Ones hidden thoughts. Those thoughts which are buried...uncovered by a shovel of uncertainty

A helpful means of expressing one's deepest regrets. One's sorest emotions. Maintaining one's ambiguity. Remaining hidden behind your mask of walls. Too scared to put them into the light.

Alas, not too scared. Too aware to put them into the light. The light pales their glow. They are not that which can be thrown unceremoniously into the public arena. They are too precious.

Their glow must remain.














No one really understands the words on the page. But they read them. And relate.

Don't dis my ability.

Disclaimer that I feel is necessary for the following blog:

I am fully aware of where my injury sits and readily acknowledge that my view is based solely upon my own experience and injury.

***

Disabled.

Interesting word that one. It's one of those words that mean very different things to different people. It's full of associations, images, words, actions, and assumptions.

I think we should start with a look at the word. "Dis" a prefix that denotes the opposite of the suffix "abled".

So what we have here is a word that means not-abled. In the context of the word, its generally used to label someone who is disadvantaged in relation to the "normal" person. For example, someone who has one leg, or no arms, or senses that do not function "correctly". It also covers intellectual disabilities - not being able to think in the same way as "normal" people, not being able to fully integrate with society.

The term is based inherently in the idea that there is a way that we should be - dictated by a majority that appears to fit this mould of "normal".

I feel its a word born from ignorance, from people never labelled "disabled". The perception is one of misunderstanding, one that does not take into account what it is like to be "disabled". It appears to treat "disabilities" as something unfortunate, an illness, accompanied by the unfulfillable desire to be normal.

I think a little background is necessary here to understand the personal experience my opinion is based upon.

I was born under conditions that resulted in a moderate to severe injury to my brachial plexus. In layman's terms - a nerve damage to my right arm. It means that I have limited use of my right arm. It affected my hand and wrist the most resulting in fine motor skills at near zero accompanied by reduced sensation. This is not the worst injury one could harbour, and that's not the point I'm trying to make.

My point is that a disability is, in many ways, an ability.

Life with two functioning arms would fundamentally change who I am. My construction of self has its foundations in my inability to use my arms in the same way everyone else did. As a baby, I never crawled, but developed a kind of scoot, where I propelled myself along the ground on my bum with a combination of hand and leg movements. I developed ways to play just like everyone else - as far as I was concerned everything about me was perfectly normal. I've known no other life. Sure, I couldn't swing on the monkey bars, and took a little longer to climb, but I could swing, paint, and play with play-dough, and talk. As I grew older I found ways to express myself so that my arm did not limit me at all. I use a laptop, I play a euphonium instead of a flute, I have a knob on my steering wheel.

It never concerned me much that I was different. It defined me. I am proud - I like people asking about my arm and I enjoy talking about it, in the same way anyone would like to talk about their defining moments and features. It means that people acknowledge there is something different and unique about me.

I hate people being scared to ask. It implies that they feel I may be sensitive. Which to me, is highlighting that there is something different about me, and that they feel I should be concerned about that difference.

Which brings me back to one of my previous points. That the term "disability" is born from a lack of understanding. It implies that being disabled means that you have an unfulfillable desire to be normal.

Read that bold part closely. There are two distinct groups in that statement. The normal, and the "abnormal". It gives rise to sympathy and pity - disabled.

I do not need sympathy. I do not wish to be normal. What I need is for people to understand my injury, and the limitations that it posses to me, and then to help me modify so that I can accomplish tasks to the best of my physical ability. Curiosity is the first step to understanding what it means to be disabled.

I'm sick of the high and mighty "able-bodied" people thinking are the flag bearers in the noble quest to defend the disabled.

There was an article on the ABC news website today about a fundraiser that had been cancelled. A bunch of primary school students decided to have a "dress up as someone with a disability day". Now yes, there are something things wrong with that. But it had potential. I am all for kids having a "come to school with a pretend physical disability day" and seeing what its like being in a wheel chair, or wearing earmuffs to see what its like being deaf. It leads to greater understanding.

There were a series of comments the article, however, that really made me angry. The main one that nearly made my blood boil was from this lady, calling herself Karen:

I do not blame the children - they pick up on the perceived ideas and attitudes from the adults around them.
At the end of the day my son cannot take off his disability and slip into something a bit more comfortable. Awareness of those with disabilities is not about clothes or appearances. AND IT IS NOT ABOUT POLITICAL CORRECTNESS. It is about treating others with dignity and respect and acknowledging that despite appearances we are all the same.

She was referring to above comments that suggested what I was suggesting - that it would be a great idea for kids to understand disabilities by experiencing them.

It perfectly highlights exactly what I have been saying. She is defending the disabled, and trying to imply that they WANT to be able to "slip into something a little more comfortable". She is perpetuating the implications of a word that misrepresents that which it is trying to represent. Disabled people are NOT, as Karen would like to thing, the same as the "abled".

By trying to treat the disabled as the same you are restricting them in a way that they do not want to be restricted. Sure, they cannot do certain things - but they are able to do many other things - and that's what they want - to do what they can and bugger everyone else.

And that is what they want other people to understand.

All I want is to be able to participate to the best of my ability.











All I want is to be allowed to play on the swings, instead of longingly watching my peers swing on the monkey bars.

Social Justice - Advancing Australia's Fairness.

First up, I'd like to direct your collective eyes up this page to the top. Notice my shiny new title image?

"Wow Chris, since when were you talented?"

Answer: I'm not. Full credit goes to Adam who writes far more entertaining posts on his blog. I suggest skipping mine completely and just reading his instead.

***

Now to those readers that I have left I bring you today's post, with a nice little introduction. I know that current affairs commentary isn't something that I generally blog here. There are plenty of people out there doing that.

Actually, come to think of it, there are plenty of people writing the kind of stuff that I normally write...so it kind of nullifies that argument.

Regardless, today I am going to discuss a topic that I have been following since it began, and have previously written about. (Not on my blog - it was an editorial piece for my writer's workshop class - copies are available to anyone interested, just leave a comment).

So...here goes. Nick D'Arcy - once more you are in my sights.

***

Its not quite a year after the infamous event that lost D'Arcy his international swimming career, and his chance at Olympic gold. For those who may have forgotten Im going to do a cut and paste from my previous writing to summarise what occurred - as best as media sources will allow.

You’ve heard the story about Nick D’Arcy, no doubt. He had a few to drink. His drinking buddy, Simon Cowley, told him to “tone down his bragging” - as the Herald Sun reported - and so Mr D’Arcy elbowed him in the face. Cowley suffered fractures in his jaw, eye sockets, hard palate, cheekbone and nose, requiring extensive surgery to insert five titanium plates into his face. Pretty hefty blow. D’Arcy’s punishment? The Australian Olympic Committee has said that he will not be attending this year’s Beijing Olympics.

So, it was an unprovoked attack, or at least thats how it was presented - though recently it has come to light that he was "slapped" by Cowley. And apparently D'Arcy punched him. Whether this slap occured or not and whether it was a punch is irrelevant, as far as I'm concerned. I'm ready to get on my high horse and condemn the situation.

What we have here is a violent outbreak that has physically and mentally damaged a fellow human being, and indeed a fellow swimmer. And I do not think that is something we should tolerate in our society no matter how drunk the person happens to be. Drunkeness is not an excuse for damaging incidents. You make a decision to drink - you deal with the consequences.

Now what has bought this topic back to my attention? Well, our wonderful Nick has had his sentence passed. He attained a suspended sentence, meaning he's been found guilty but escapes a jail term so long as he is on his very bestest behaviour. So no more punching for Nick or he goes to prison.

I think he was very lucky to escape a jail sentence. But I'll stick with the court's decision. They know a hell of a lot more about in than I ever will. We can't trust the media to not put a spin on things.

But there has something that has really made me angry about the whole situation.

In news today Swimming Australia annouced that D'Arcy would not be competing in the World Championships in Rome - despite qualifying at the Australian Championships.

And people think that Swimming Australia is in the wrong here.

A comment published on the Herald Sun article reporting this development - there were a number arguing the same sort of thing - this was the best expressed, however:

The decision to ban Nick D'arcy from the swimming team is deeply concerning. It suggests that decisions in law and sentence in law is not sufficient. All Australians should be concerned that a person charged and convicted in a court of law can be required to face additonal consequences beyond the structure and limits offered by the legal system. Those who support ongoing punishment would lead us all away from the objectivity of the legal system.

"Jan Anderson"

I disagree entirely with the sentiments expressed by Ms Anderson here. Law plays a vital role in ensuring justice is withheld in the community - but it is not, and never will be, the only role in justice. Many comments expressed similar sentiments "his done the time", "he's paid his debt" and "shouldn't be punished further". At first I found these arguments compelling. He's been sentenced, and punished by the courts, leave him be. But lets pull back for a second.

I work in a knife shop. If I commit a crime - regardless of its severity - my employer has every right to sack me, no matter how good I am at my job. If I have a criminal record, I will be punished beyond the law by society. It's a black mark against my name, and its something that I would sure as hell have to live with.

It's called social justice.

It isnt a matter of whether Nick D'Arcy is a fantasic and talented swimmer, and that he has already be punished by law. He has commited a crime and in doing so he has tarnished his name, he has recieved a black mark. Swimming Australia is well within their rights to say "We don't want him."

And I'm well within my rights as a citizen of the country he seeks to represent to say: "I don't want him - he is not what I want representing my nation."

That is something he will have to learn to live with.

The blinking orange taskbar.

Dear Internet,

I know that you and I have been friends for a very long time. We became friends about the same time I became close with my BFF. "How unusual!" you may exclaim - but I do not think so, dear Internet, I do not.

For you see, you were perhaps the reason - or at the very least the catalyst - for many of my friendships. I could bore you for hours with my recollections of all the good times and bad that we shared, but I shan't - because I also have to entertain my audience. Not that I don't love you or anything. I adore you, I cherish you, I wish to spend a portion of each and every day with you, exploring the intimate folds of your extensive knowledge, asking advice, securing definitions. You are, dearest Internet, one of the reasons for my happiness today.

We've shared our mutual evolution - from the lowly days where YouTube was just some site, and MSN was actually called MSN - back in the days of Pentium fours, the Sims1, and ADSL1. From the days where I couldn't talk to the girls I wanted to, the days where the small actions of teenage life seemed gigantic and dramatic, the days where I was blissfully ignorant of the realities of the real world, and the beauty of the written word. The days when I said "wud" "culd" "2" "lmao" "jks" "yea" and "luv". We've blogged together on and off for the past four years, through different medium - MSN spaces, MySpace, Bebo, and now I've settled for the uncomplicated blogger.

My dear internet - you gave me the confidence to talk to girls, to embrace myself, and to express my thoughts. You've trained my written skills, and honed my social skills. You yourself have grown to heights that I could not have dreamed of, blossomed in ways I never imagined. Wikipedia, YouTube, Facebook. I've never been prouder of you. You bring people closer.

Yet you are constantly hounded by people who don't understand you, don't revel in the complexities and vastness that you represent, laugh and dismiss the social opportunities you provide as antisocial and incomprehensive. I can almost understand them - touch and warmth are as important as words and knowledge - you cannot be my whole life, but you can be an integral part.

And as we've grown, my dear friend, in a way we've gone our separate ways. I have matured, recognised the value of intimate association, far from the faceless monitor, with the blinking orange taskbar. And you continue to raise the adolescents of our time, with your limitless potential. So though we're drifting, please let me say - I have no doubt that we will still be friends. You've had such a huge part in making me that I could never let you go.

And as our roads diverge, perchance, I wish to let you know.

My dearest Internet. I love you. I always will.

May we run together down life's paths - converging as we please.


With adoration and undying gratitude,
Your dear friend,
Christopher.