Chainsaw preservation: what a wonderful way to enjoy the outdoors

I gotta hand it to Husqvarna chainsaws. What better time to promote their chainsaw line than in the middle of Billy Connelly’s Journey to the Edge of the World – a program dedicated to exploring beautiful rugged terrains?

They say: “Celebrate 50 years in the forest with a Husqvarna chain saw.”

Because nothing celebrates preservation more than frolicking through the forests with a chain saw.

Go nuts, blokes. An Irritating Truth http://www.anirritatingtruth.wordpress.com

Discrimination: is laughter the best medicine?

The Foundry’s anti-discrimination ad was made with a clear and legitimate intent to pursuade Australians to reconsider their prejudices.

Though confronting, it clearly submits an argument for tolerance, not divisiveness.

A little background information: The ad below was scheduled to appear on the ABC-TV program The Gruen Transfer on May 13, 2009 but due to the shocking nature of the ad, it was not approved for broadcast by the ABC.

They have allowed the content to be used online to facilitate debate and discussion.

The following video includes not only The Foundry’s ad, but also a panel discussion with its creator, Adam Hunt, about the reasons for the ad’s approach.

If you are likely to be offended by issues of discrimination in race, religion, sexuality or body size, please don’t watch.

Due to the controversial nature of the ad, I was unable to embed the video on here, so please use the link below to view, (preferably in a new tab):

http://www.antiprejudicead.net/landing.asp

I’m not really sure how I feel about this ad.

On the one hand, I’m not comfortable with the tradition of political correctness that has plagued the 21st century.

When it comes to prejudice, I am a firm believer that either everything is funny, or nothing is funny.

I think that silencing people who are going to have the thought anyway but stifle themselves so as not to be inappropriate, isn’t putting an end to discrimination – it’s a bandaid solution.

On the other hand, my first thoughts upon seeing this ad, were that the jokes preceding the one about fat chicks were so appalling, I couldn’t even remember what the joke was – and in that, the point of the ad was lost.

Personally, I think this ad failed because the personalities these actors portrayed were deliberately nasty people, as if “nasty people” are the only ones that make racist jokes.

The panel makes a good point: inevitably, four or five beers down, even the most timid people become what we would deem “socially inappropriate.”

The truth is, not all racist/prejudiced comments are made by racists, and I think that is where this ad falls down – we fail to recognise ourselves in it.

Perhaps a better execution would have been to script it in a way where the people making the jokes deliver them in a way they believe to be harmless – (the same way that my dickhead friends deliver absolutely appalling jokes that are so shocking, we have no choice but to laugh).

In delivering the same point, in a more relateable way, perhaps we could begin to recognise that something we previously thought to to be harmless is actually hurtful, discriminatory, and prejudiced whether the intent was there or not.

As a Jew – I was not offended by the joke that was made in the ad, because I knew that the intent was to deconstruct our prejudices, not empower them.

However, I have been the subject of anti-semitic jokes on more than one occasion, and it is upsetting.

I used to date a particularly nasty guy who, when I told him I was Jewish, asked me “don’t Jews usually shave their heads before having a shower?”

I was stunned to silence.

I could not believe that someone who supposedly cared about me, could be so rude, so offensive.

After regaining my voice however – I promptly broke up with him.

Which brings me (finally) to my point – is it the intent of the jokes we find offensive, or the jokes themselves?

I’m going to channel Malcom X here for a second and suggest that perhaps the only way to disempower prejudice – is to laugh:

(“Porch-monkeys 4 life, – it’s ok I’m taking it back”).

I’m not sure that we can ever truly remove discrimination, but I think a good way to start is to take a page out of Clerks II, or Dogma, or South Park and be indiscriminately discriminate.

There’s power in satire, and what better to be able to make fun of ourselves, as much as we do of others?

Adam Hunt should not be made to apologise for the strength of the concept.

The idea is good, the execution is flawless, but perhaps the shock factor has distracted from the point of the ad.

I also think that the point of living in a democracy is to read controversial books, or watch controversial ads, and then talk about them.

There is no point in not allowing this ad to run.

Perhaps it should go to air on the ABC.

Perhaps it’s actually a good thing that people are up in arms about this ad, because it’s the only way to make any real progress.

There is no other reaction to be had after watching this advertisement, than to feel complete and utter disgust.

Even people who aren’t that easily shocked said they felt they had been abruptly uprooted from their comfort zones.

And if any progress is to be made in reducing and obliterating discrimination, that is where we are going to have to exist for a while- out of our comfort zone.

Let me know what you think about this ad.

Post your comments below.
An Irritating Truth http://www.anirritatingtruth.wordpress.com

Devine Responsibility

It’s a strange strange day where I find myself agreeing with Miranda Devine, (well partially, at least).

It’s an even stranger day when I’m writing about sports – well, not so much about sports, but about sporting players.

I cannot understand why so many people are missing the point of this Matthew Johns (and team mates) sex scandle – it is not, nor has it ever been a question of consent.

“Clare” admitted straight up that she had consented to participate in a threesome, but consenting to two people has never, and will never relate to consenting to the whole team!

The media has turned the story into an issue of consent, rather than an issue of basic morality.

A women can still feel degraded during sex, despite her initial consent.

Divine is correct in her assertion that the John’s spectacularly unremorseful apology was a legal solution designed to circumvent the argument rather than address it.

It has only gone to show what a spectacular failure these so called attempts have been at “curbing” rather than “solve” the ongoing sex problems plaguing rugby league.

Re-education programs have proven to be spectacularly unproductive in changing the prevailing attitudes of football players towards women – (this is the point where my thoughts diverge from Devine’s).

Devine argues that: “it is unfair to expect men to bear full responsibility for sexual mores as the boundaries of acceptable practice are blurred. Young women are told they can act and dress any way they please, and it is men, alone, with their supposedly filthy, uncontrollable sexual desires, who must restrain themselves… Who could blame the players for being confused? But emphasising a legalistic notion of consent, without moral context or any expectation of women to modify their behaviour, leaves players unmoored from the real consequences of their behaviour.”

I’m not sure what kind of “behavior” Devine refers to that she believes women must curb, and I don’t know how many blows to the head rugby players need to recieve before they lose the ability to count.

First of all, consenting to a threesome, does not mean consenting to a twenty-fivesome.

Also, the only way to raise respectable young gentlemen that play sport, is treat them like gentleman – from an early age.

Since little-league these men have been told that the sun shines out of their ass, raised with the knowledge that the rules do not apply to them.

Grades are slipping? – That’s ok, coach will write me an exception.

Can’t make the exam coz of the big game? – That’s ok, coach will have the exam rescheduled.

Brutish, thug mentality on nights out after games are a tradition amongst league players covered up by schools, coaches, and colleges because they’ll do anything to have the winning players on their side.

Not only that, but group sex has been encouraged and traditional amongst football clubs as “group-bonding activities.”

Am I the only one that find this at all alarming?

And then they go pro when they turn 18 and before you know it they have more money than they know what to do with.

Now they they’re king of the world!

They believe they can buy or talk themselves out of any situation because since they were seven they were told they were different, that they were special, and that the ordinary rules of morality and society simply do not apply to them.

Despite all of this, it’s also pretty improbable (at least statistically) that all the parents of rugby league players somehow missed the morality training they should impart to their kids.

They’re not ignorant, immoral people – at some point, there must have been occasions where they’ve had to think for themselves.

I’m sure there were countless opportunities to be able to distinguish between the right and wrong behavior.

I mean I know rugby players aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed but it doesn’t take that much brain power to know where you’ve crossed the line.

Perhaps a solution would be to go back to the rugby leage of the 70s.

Though the game payed some money, most rugby leage players in the 70s worked other jobs to support themselves – it was a great way to weed out the guys that are in it for the game, from the ones that are in it for the glory.

But we all know that that isn’t going to happen.

It’s not just about the sport anymore, it’s the power of the logos they carry on their shirts, that they display on the sidelines – and the endoresements they take part in.

It’s not a sport, it’s a business.

These are walking, talking cash cows who aren’t paid to think – (they have people to do that for them), they’re paid to play, and if certain liberties are taken to facilitate a good game, then so be it.

They pay lawyers, and PR agencies, and a swarm of other people to ensure that these kind of problems are taken care of behind closed doors.

The NRL employs people to tell them when to eat, sleep, drink, and think for them.

It’s no wonder they have no idea of personal responsibility.

We need to scale down the liability staff and scale up the expectation of personal responsibility and we need to do it now.

It’s Limerick Day!

Today is Limerick Day boys and girls!

It is celebrated in honor of the birth of English writer Edward Lear, who is responsible for the popularity of limericks.

So in honor of limerick day:

“There once was a young lesbian from Cancun,
who took a young man up to her room,
they argued all night,
as to who had the right,
to do what, for how long, and to whom!”

How rude!!!!

Here’s one from Lear:

There was an Old Man in a tree,

Who was horribly bored by a Bee;
When they said,
‘Does it buzz?’
He replied, ‘Yes, it does!’

‘It’s a regular brute of a Bee!’

Come on – hop on the limerick band wagon, and post your own limericks below!!!

Thoughts on the American Health Care Conundrum

I can’t understand why Americans can’t get together on health care.

Australia has a population that’s a quarter of the size of the US, yet we have an operational public and (multiple) private health care systems.

Surely this would render the financial argument null and void.

So what’s the problem?

Just a thought.

Things I have come to appreciate #2: FavouriteFive.com

One ray of positivity in what has otherwise been a fairly annoying day, is the thirty minutes that I listen to my favourite favourite podcast in the entire world – Favourite Five.com.

I love lists.

I love making lists, I love reading blogs that are about lists.

So what better than listening to a bunch of totally chilled out guys, listing the things they love, hate, or are otherwise indifferent to?

Nothing is better – that’s what.

I am pimping the fuck out of these guys coz I want them to get famous!

And with the digital radio revolution, why shouldn’t they have their own radio show?

It’d make a nice break from radio the stations we currently have, which are more than just JUMPING THE SHARK, desperate to stay afloat, (no pun intended).

(Shameless Saturday? Really?)

Favourite Five is witty, intelligent humour, where (you guessed it), Dan, Brad, & Jono list their top five:

- Words to outlaw.

- Things we hate about people.

- Sharehouse stories.

- Break up songs.

- Valentines day Songs.

- and many MANY more.

It’s a hilarious combination of pop-culture and all of the awesome sunday beers types of conversation you have with your friends that you WISH you recorded, – packaged together for public consumption.

I live for favouritefive.com.

It’s so funny, and cynical, and their Valentines Day mix tape kicks ass!

I look forward to going to work, simply so I can listen to it over my lunch break.

I always feel disappointed when I finish listening to favourite five on a Monday because it means I have to wait a whole week for the next installment – they are that good!

Go and listen right now: http://www.favouritefive.com/

Do it.

Do it now.

Corporate Food Thieves

I apologise in advance for the aggression that is likely to spew out of me in the post that shall follow but I am so hopping mad right now.

No – it’s not because of the state of the economy, or some hypocritical action on the part of a local politician.

It’s not to do with poverty, starvation, disease, corruption, or greed (well, it’s partly to do with greed).

It’s because some fucking office food thief, stole, my home made pumpkin soup which I brought into the office for lunch.

In my office, we have two fridges – a big fridge, shared between the departments (from which things frequently get stolen), and a small fridge, which is only used by a handful of people from my department, all of whom I work closely with.

You only need to get your food stolen from the big fridge once, for you to know not to use it.

My beautiful home-made pumpkin soup and crusty bread roll was taken, out of the small fridge.

Having worked over my normal lunch hour to finish a task for a client, I cannot convey my excitement for the reward I was about to bestow upon myself, in the form of thick, creamy pumpkin soup and a crusty roll.

Especially when you’re taking a late lunch – there is nothing, more infuriating than having your food taken.

It is infuriating enough to know that someone you work with has taken your food, but by three in the afternoon I’m so frigging starving so you can just imagine the anger that ensued.

However it is also a massive betrayal.

So far, in the nine months I have been working here, I have had stolen:

-Mum’s home-made brisket and mashed potato.
- marinated grilled tomatoes and goats cheese with seasoning (thanks mum).
- Cannelloni
- Roast-chicken sandwich with spinach and cranberry sauce.
- Curry Puffs.
- Pumpkin Soup (and accompanying bread roll).

What kind of tight-ass cheap skate do you have to be, to make you walk to the fridge and take food that you know isn’t yours, eat it, and hide/throw away the Tupperware it was stored in?

I cannot relate to people who do this.

I would feel like a fucking homeless person if I ate someone else’s food out of the fridge.

A fucking, hobo, homeless person!

Oh, you know who you are, stealer of sustenance, sneaking into the fridge just before noon to peruse the menu of meals that had been pain-stakingly prepared the night before by your trusted colleagues.

Perhaps you would like some roast beef on rye with brie?

Or maybe some pumpkin soup?

Never mind the fact they have names not belonging to you written write on top of them!!!

So many choices, so little morals.

Well, guess what thiefy?

I give in, I surrender.

From now on I will create two batches of food, that way we both can eat.

However, my food will live in my locked drawer.

Yours will be in the fridge.

The only catch is (to steal a sneaky idea of an anonymous co-worker), yours will have laxatives in them.

I believe you are long overdue for some colonic irrigation.

Get your filthy hands off my well-prepared food, or it’ll be explosive diarrhea for the rest of the week!

Mary & Max

Mary & Max is one of the best films I’ve ever seen.

This film was a completely unexpected break from the structural norms of animated film.

Adam Elliot draws together an unapologetically bleak claymation film, tempered with sweetness, that follows the correspondence between a young Australian girl called Mary and an overweight American man named Max who are drawn together by their mutual troubles and loneliness.

As always Phillip Seymore Hoffman does not disappoint in his heartbreaking portrayal of an isolated 49 year old Jewish man who suffers from severe Aspergers Syndrome.

The same can be said of Tony Collete and Bethany Whitmore who follow Mary through the different stages of her life.

This film is beautifully constructed but the settings have allowed for the characters to be compelling in their own right.

The unique claymation style serves only to enhance the emotional tone of the film, from the dark gritty, gothic New York world of Max to the dry yellow plains of Mary’s existense.

It is both dark and realistic in capturing that even for people in the worst of circumstances, for which almost nothing “significant” ever changes, the world can still be beautiful.

Please go and see this film.

Things I have come to appreciate

As many of you have noticed, my posts have been few and far between lately.

Rudd’s verbal plunging of Australia into a hypothetical recession just to avoid an image problem to do with asylum seekers, was the proverbial straw that broke the camels back.

This is largely due to a feeling I have experienced lately, a combination of cynicism and passive acceptance; that the state of politics in this country has become so bizarre, and ridiculous, that there is nothing at all I can do to change it.

I have found myself completely incapable of either excitement or outrage when it comes to the things that usually inspire me.

With that in mind, I am taking a brief haitus from my usual rants, to write about things I have come to appreciate (and no doubt, the things that irritate – but on a smaller, insignificant scale).

Things I have come to appreciate #1: A soul-warmingly good Hot Chocolate.

I did not realise until today, how magically fantastic the hot chocolate is at Pier 8 (the cafe below my work, financed almost entirely by caffeine addicted Yahoo!7/YSM employees).

(Yes, I drink hot chocolate, because I don’t like coffee.

Yes, I’m soft.

Yes, I am okay with this).

The hot chocolate at Pier 8 is so good that I almost took for granted that the outranking exceptionalism of that satiny goodness was actually what all hot chocolate tasted like.

It wasn’t until today that I truly appreciated the magic of Steve – where in the search of a Saturday morning pick me up, I grabbed a hot chocolate from the nearest cafe expecting gold, but was instead served a recyclable takeaway cup filled with “hot chocolate” made almost entirely of sludge.

I will now appreciate my weekday morning ritual a little bit more from now on.

I will also make sure to leave a nice big tip next hot-chocolate.

Another related newly found appreciation, is having a coffee guy that knows your name and your order without your having to say anything- and the most important newly realised appreciation – a smile.

Hospitality is a rough gig, especially if you’re a barista/cafe owner.

You spend most of the day serving caffeine dependant and/or hungry impatient workaholics, which can’t be pleasant, and unless you’re an exclusive eastern suburbs day-light robbery operation masquerading as a boutique cafe – the money isn’t always enough to make-up for the sheer rudeness of anyone who hasn’t had their morning coffee yet.

(That being said, work is one of the least toxic places to be in the morning.

Yahooligans are the least grumpy morning people I’ve come across, which is probably what keeps the Pier 8 staff largely smiley), (yet another thing to be appreciative of).

(Don’t you love the positivity that flows out of me when I’m not getting riled up by local politicians?)

Who knew that the snooty pimply sixteen year old that served me sludge this morning could make me appreciate so much.

More to come.

Three Word Movie Review: Man on Wire

French Hipsters Balance.
An Irritating Truth http://www.anirritatingtruth.wordpress.com