Style and Substance

I know it's been a long time since my last post, but I've been busy. Mostly with procrastinating, watching Youtube and putting together my album(s). As anyone who has spent any time watching Youtube would understand, out of the three activities listed I have gotten the most intellectual stimulation out of the third, so music will (once again) be the subject of my musings.

When you're writing music, considerations of audience inevitably come into play. Unless of course you're an avant-garde experimental musician. But even then you still have an audience, even if their willingness to fetishize any eclectic composition you produce gives you greater creative latitude than the average artist enjoys.

When considering the audience, I'm always torn between balancing what people want to hear and what I feel they need to hear. And it is a delicate balance; my own music consumption patterns tell me that. In my portable music player I have, at any one time, mainstream rock, underground rap, Japanese pop and a whole stack of BBC podcasts. After experiencing both extremes, it has become my view that it is, in the words of the good book, 'good to hold onto one and not let go of the other'. That's certainly the mix that I try to achieve with my music.

And this is not to say that I don't enjoy today's music; I'll still bump that new Lil Wayne track if I'm feeling it. And yet I can't shake the feeling that music is starting to lose sight of the delicate balance between style and substance somewhat. But, proving that maybe I was wrong about getting more intellectual stimulation from music than from Youtube, a Chris Rock clip I found while trawling the video site seems to say it best:

What can I say, you're a mensch

I'm now 22 (actually, half way to 23). It's around this time that young men and women start to go places. Many of those in my cohort have graduated, some have gotten engaged or married, and a whole lot of us have either moved into the corporate world or are gearing up to do so. Some have become doctors, others lawyers, some sports broadcasters and others...well, they're still trying to get their game plan down.

One thing I did not expect to come out of my group of childhood acquaintances was a (successful) rock band. When I graduated in 2003, four of the guys from my school were playing in a garage band called Collusion. I think I still have one of their early recordings. I remember seeing a few of them around uni every now and then, but I never really kept up with their music. Then last year I caught up with an old high school friend who told me that the group had now rebadged itself 'Skybombers', and was steadily building momentum. Although their style of music isn't particular my area of expertise, I've tried to keep up with them since. By my count, they've now released an EP, toured Australia and the States (and a fair few other places I'd guess), released music videos and now completed their debut full length album. They even opened for the Foo Fighters on their New Zealand tour.

The scale of all this was brought home to me today when I was out shopping with my cousins. We dropped in on JB Hi-Fi to check out the CDs, and prominently displayed among other well known artists was this release by four people who I had shared classes with, been friends with and occasionally even gotten into arguments with.


All of this made me step back and realise how far we'd come since we were 18. I guess when you're in uni the constant hustle and bustle prevents you from realising how much you've achieved and how you've matured. It's also probably harder when you're dealing with childhood acquaintances; you never really learn to see your high school mates as a hotshot lawyer, trusted physician or, dare I say it, celebrated rock star. But other people do see us as such, and it's reassuring to know that we are moving on and assuming our places in society as something more than just "so-and-so's friend/kid/brother". We're mensches in our own right.

Our ship has arrived and there's no turning back. Hope we're ready for the big time.

And, in the spirit of the shameless plug, here is the latest video from the Skybombers - 'Always Complaining':

Hanazakari no Kimitachi E

Recently I've been watching a J-drama series (yes, I do watch Japanese TV dramas, I admit it) called Hanazakari no Kimitachi E ('To those of you in full bloom'). I know the whole J-drama thing is a little foofy, and I'm not helped by the fact that Hanazakari is a reverse-harem drama based on a shoujo manga. But, for what it is, it's a damn entertaining series.

The plot centres around Ashiya Mizuki (Horikita Maki), a Japanese American girl who cuts her locks, loses the skirt and transfers to the all-boys school Osaka Gakuen in Japan on a covert mission to rescue her idol/role model/crush Sano Izumi (Oguri Shun) from the doldrums that he has fallen into. Most of the hillarity results from the strong personalities (caricatures?) of the characters and the trials and travails that a girl trying to live as a guy faces.

I'm only about half-way through the series, but after a few episodes I couldn't help but think about some of the other famous cross-dressing stories that anyone with a modicum of Asian cultural literacy will have some familiarity with.

For the sake of my whiter associates, I'll start off with a tale that almost anyone who has kids or was a kid at the relevant time will have heard of. That's right, I'm talking Eddie Murphy as a pint-sized dragon and a whole lot of talk about 'dying with honour'. Ladies and gentlemen: Mulan!



Of course let's not forget that before Disney so helpfully co-opted the story for their own diabolical purposes, it was a pretty famous Chinese tale also rendered into a film by the Shaw Brothers:



But of course that wasn't the only cross-dressing film in the Shaw Brothers catalogue. I often got home from school and found my mum watching Liang Shan-Po Yu Chu Ying-Tai, the story of a girl who dresses up as a man so that she can go to school. I bet these days a whole lot of girls would dress up as a man if it would get them OUT of school. But that's a discussion for another time.

Here's a tiny photo from the film. Best one that I could find.



All of this brings me (in a very round-about way) to the point of my post: despite being for the most part patriachal, Asian cultures have some serious gender issues. So when you see that Korean exchange student that seems to have more makeup on than his girlfriend, don't think he's trying too hard or lying to himself about his sexuality. It's just those damn Shaw Brothers movies corrupting the youth.

But, if all this gender bending is too much for you, remember when you're watching shows like Hanazakari that behind the oddly-fitting pants and shirts there is a beautiful girl waiting to be released from the bonds of...well, the selective nature of certain private schools.

Behold: Horikita Maki!



...and as for you Asian guys who spend too much time on your hair and nails? Come on guys, you're not fooling anyone.

The More Things Change...

While taking a break from studying the other day a friend of mine asked me, 'So who do you think? Obama or McCain?' My response, based on nothing more than my casual daily perusal of the Google News 'elections' section, was that Obama would be the next President of the United States. My friend was a little taken aback: 'How can you be so sure?'

It was at this point that I felt the need to clarify my position. I am not a converted Obama-ite (although I find the Obama-girl YouTube video hillarious). I was simply stating what I thought the outcome of the November elections would be. I then proceeded to tell my friend that although I thought that Obama would be the next President, I thought that he was unlikely to fulfil the promise that he has built up in the heart of a tired and disheartened nation.

It seems, reading some of the latest opinion pieces, that a number of commentators are reaching similar conclusions: the shine is off the apple, and what was initially branded as the race between the maverick and the reformer is really just another presidential race between two men who would be commander in chief. The muddled policy stances of both camps betrays a hard realpolitik foundation that both campaigns have built their campaigns on glossing over.

Of course everyone needs hope, and I'm sure that Obama or McCain will do a better job than Bush has. But I for one won't be expecting any earth-shattering changes following November. Politicians who go back on their word or bend to political convenience do not represent a break from the past, nor a rebellion against the establishment. Politicians who break their word are just politicians. I just hope that 'Hope we can believe in' doesn't become simply 'hope we believe in'. And that's just Straight Talk.

Further reading:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lee-stranahan/barack-obama-selects-bara_b_108481.html
http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/editorial_opinion/oped/articles/2008/06/22/obama_and_mccain___flip_flop_flip_flop/

Soul Calibur IV

Damn. This looks AWESOME.

July 31 2008.

A long time between drinks

Well, after 8 straight weeks of getting our ass handed to us we finally won one. Good job, boys. It's also nice to see Matty Lloyd back in form.

And to think, all it took was for our opposition to lose pretty much their entire midfield to either trades, retirements or injury. Oh well we haven't had a real midfield for a couple of years now, so I guess that just evened the odds.

But congrats boys. Hope you can back it up next week against the Blues.

The Asian Lupe Fiasco

Despite having finals looming in just a matter of days, I've been doing anything but studying. Mostly I've been surfing the net and listening to music, which really means that I've just been doing what I usually do.

One of the albums that has come back into heavy rotation is Lupe Fiasco's The Cool. I was intrigued by Lupe the first time I heard him (Kick, Push), and I was impressed when I copped his first album Food and Liquor last year. However I only became a convert when Lupe dropped his sophmore effort, The Cool. It ranks as one of those albums in my mind that stands out in my memory when I cast my mind back to all the records I've heard (which are a fair few).

To me, The Cool represented the very epitome of what I want to do with my own music: uncompromisingly intelligent, edgy, contemplative music that is underscored with humanity. I like to think that I don't easily match up with any rapper, but if I had to pick any emcee I'd want to be compared with it'd have to be Lu.

When I first heard The Cool I was spellbound - I listened to the whole thing in one sitting and was blown away by the quality of the music and the sheer breadth of Lupe's opus. I knew that I had a classic in my hands. Yet when I loaded it up on my portable MP3 player (my Nokia) and took it out with me on the road, I was hit by the realisation that I couldn't find any 'standout' songs to really get into. This was astounding, seeing as I had just listened to an album that I was absolutely convinced was a certified hit.

By way of explanation, what normally happens when I listen to a great album is that I enjoy it in the first sitting, and then over the next couple of listens I sift out songs that I enjoy more than the others and put those specific tracks into heavy rotation. Yet with Lupe's work somehow it was impossible to find any standout track, even though I hadn't found an ounce of fluff on the album the first time I listened to it.

A lot of contemplation ensued, and I finally realised why it was that I couldn't find any individual tracks to really get into. It wasn't because the music was too dense - I had followed the flow effortlessly the first time round. It also wasn't because the whole album was one long concept album; the songs are connected, but not interdependent. The real reason why I couldn't parse the tracks was because they weren't easily pigeonholed.

Subconsciously the way that I pick out 'standout' tracks is by assigning a particular emotion, vibe or meaning to the given song; for example the reason I like the track Mockingbird by Eminem is because it reinforces my own strong sense of the importance of family. That is the concept that Mockingbird stands for in my mind. Yet with Lupe I've found it impossible to break his work down like this.

At first I thought it might have been because he was too cerebral, but upon closer inspection I realised that nothing that Lupe says is esoteric or beyond the realm of common experience. This point is reinforced by the fact that I've been able to crunch works much more 'intellectual' than Lupe's (such as Canibus' Rip the Jacker, which is another one of my 'landmark' albums). Canibus moves from history to art to science in the space of four bars, and yet I've never had a problem with his music.

The real reason that I haven't been able to pigeonhole Lupe's music is because it is truly intellectual music - its true value can only be unlocked on a cerebral level. Lupe is an intellectual naturally, as opposed to the superficially deep (oxymoronic, I know) name-checking hip hop that normally gets passed off as 'intellectual'. And because I interact with Lupe's music on an intellectual (that is, conscious) level, I'm not easily able to subconsciously assign simple metalabels to his songs.

And to be honest, that's the sort of music I want to make as well. When you're listening to it, you connect with it on a deep level and it draws you in. Yet if you're trying to play it in the background and assign it to the role of 'mood music' it refuses. Music that stands on its own as a work of art, which is more than just a quick piece of entertainment.

For a while I wondered whether it was even possible to make truly intelligent hip hop. Lupe gives me hope that someday hip hop will be able to transcend the haphazard 'stream of consciousness' format that it was born out of and move to the next level of artistry.

And if I get to end up known as the Asian Lupe Fiasco? Well, I'd be alright with that.

Game On.

So here we are. After what has been the longest primary race certainly in my memory,
we finally have the two men (yes, MEN) that will square dance around each other for the rest of the year until the US public chooses a replacement for George W Bush.

So, before the bell rings for a new round I thought I'd add a few thoughts about the story until now.

Firstly, commiserations to Hillary. You really have to take your hat off to her for her resilience (doggedness?), even if you can't agree with her policies or have doubts about her integrity/credibility. Who would have thought that she wouldn't be the one sparring with McCain when we first started the primary process? Although I have serious doubts about Hillary, in my estimation I still think that it would be a bigger 'symbolic step' to have a female US president than it would be to have an African American one.

Which is of course not to take away from Obama, or to suggest that this election is all about image and not substance. I have to say that Obama has impressed me over the course of the campaign, although as with most hyped newcomers I was initially a little wary of him. Obama strikes me as determined, articulate and, dare I say it, inspirational. The sort of person who commands rock-star receptions and causes skeptics like myself to ask themselves, 'Is it okay to believe in him?' Although the debate will be endless, I still think in the end that the stronger campaign won. Obama has surrounded himself with good advisors (temporal, not spiritual), has maintained his image of integrity tightly and overall been more innovative than any of the other candidates: his ability to cobble together wide cross-sectional support and outraise Hillary through the use of the internet were masterstrokes. Of course time will tell whether this political Roscharch test is in fact his own man and not just an icon for people to project their hopes onto, but if he can overcome as fierce a contender as Hillary with his dignity (and majority) in tact, he's got a damn good shot at being the real thing.

Which brings us to the Republican side. I have to say that I am glad to see McCain as the nominee - I wasn't particularly impressed with any of the other candidates, apart from perhaps the sheer tenacity of Mitt Romney. I'm also yet to be convinced to join the outsider's outsider, Ron Paul. Although I know that McCain will be wanting to put as much distance between himself and George Bush as possible, I might dare say that McCain to me represents what Bush should have been - a true 'compassionate conservative', a man of the people who neither shirked the issue of war nor rushed into it. One can only wonder what the world would be like if a vicious smear campaign hadn't sunk McCain's 2000 bid. I'm no strategic expert, but I dare say that McCain might be expected to have handled the events post 9/11 with much greater finesse and statemanship than the current president did.

And thus finally we arrive at the silent elephant in the room, the 43rd president of the United States: George W Bush. He was always going to be hated by some, and right from the word go his administration was never going to be uncontroversial. Although sensitivity to the current state of affairs requires a more sombre assessment, the intellectual side of me remains fascinated by the Bush years: the unexpected turns, the dramatic and sudden shifts, the sheer breadth of issues presided over and of course the collapse. But at the end of the day, no matter what you think of George Bush personally, the Presidency of the United States is far too important a job for mistakes. May history correct me, but I believe that the presidency of George Bush was a grave misstep for America.

The question of how the US chooses to take its next step is one which begins consideration in earnest today.

Postscript:
Out of interest, I found an interesting article today profiling the similarities between the two candidates that lie below their vastly different exteriors: http://www.slate.com/id/2181521/.

Gotta Feel Sorry for Robbo

As I was on my way into the city on Friday night for a 21st, I picked up a copy of mX and read that bookies were now shortening the odds of my beloved Bombers claiming the wooden spoon, with Essendon now $2.10 second-placed favourites for the ingnominy. The only club more favoured to place last at the end of the season was Melbourne, who were at $2.00. The article said that if Melbourne scored a win on the weekend (which was a distinct possibility, given their recent form) and Essendon copped another pasting (which everyone was expecting), Essendon's odds would shorten even further.

Well, Essendon did go down again, but this time only by 5 points. Melbourne on the other hand got thumped by 79 points by a red-hot St Kilda outfit, and lost its other key forward, Russell 'Robbo' Robertson for the rest of the season to an achilles injury.

I really do feel sorry for Melbourne. As a fellow cellar-dweller, I can understand the heartbreak that Demons fans must feel. And Robbo is one of the genuine nice guys of the comp, so you really do feel bad for him. (Why couldn't Dale Thomas rupture his achilles tendon instead?)

But boy does it give us a bit of breathing space. Chin up, Demons fans...we'll be with you every step of the way in the race to the bottom.

The Dark Knight(s)

What the hell, Matthew. You have a lot of explaining to do.

We'd better have another premiership by 2010 or this is going to have been a long, humiliating and ultimately pointless process.

PS: Congratulations to Collingwood for their thumping win over Geelong. Looks like I sure got my come-uppance for that post I did a while back on their loss to Carlton.

Now in Mono

When I woke up on Monday this week I found that my right ear was hurting slightly, and the level of hearing in that ear had significantly decreased. At first I thought it was nothing; maybe I had just slept on it wrong. But as Tuesday and Wednesday brought more significant pain (and deafness) I booked myself in to see the campus GP. Today I was lucky to find out that it was nothing more than impacted wax that had lodged itself deep in my ear: not the most pleasant subject, but perfectly treatable.

Nevertheless, the past few days have been an interesting experience as I have essentially been living my life in mono. When I was younger I remember seeing a sticker on the front of some cassette or CD proclaiming 'Now in stereo'. I didn't understand at the time why this was such a big deal, but after a few days of living with only one functioning ear I have realised how important the second sound receptor is.

Stereo has much more importance than allowing fifteen year old aspiring sound engineers to play around with the panning effects in Goldwave. It plays an important role in depth perception, situational awareness ('Can you please sit on my left? I didn't hear you when you were talking') and the overall quality of the listening experience. Hearing through only one ear after living my life in stereo is like seeing a rainbow in grayscale – it feels hollow, tinny and incomplete. There is a beautiful symmetry to stereo that can't be understood until you lose one half of the soundscape.

All this reminds me of an old saying: “We're given two ears and only one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak.” That's bullshit. We're given two ears so we can cop records (and life in general) in the glory of stereo.

Preaching to the choir (is easier than preaching to the congregation)

It never ceases to amaze me how clumsy human beings can be with words. Sometimes squeezing the mass of thoughts and emotions whirling in one's head into a coherent sentence is simply too hard, and we instead just blurt out whatever thought is currently floating in our stream of consciousness. This can lead to misunderstandings, frustration and bad decision-making.

Poor communication is a problem that plagues all of us, in almost every sphere of life. I'm sure all of us can relate to being sent to redo a piece of work for the n-th time by a boss who doesn't quite seem to be able to tell you what it is exactly that he or she wants. But while a communication breakdown in regular life can be fixed with relative ease by sitting down with the person question and nutting out exactly what it is they (and you) mean, poor communication in the realm of art (particularly music) can be fatal.

With any piece of art you only have as long as you can hold the audience's attention to make your point, and a lot of thought and refinement goes into ensuring that your message is conveyed with economy of thought and word. Yet there are limits to the amount of explanatory information you can encode into your work; there is a point at which you have to leave it be and hope that you are understood for what you are trying to say.

More often than not however, when you are trying to convey a truth to an audience that is not accustomed to it, this delicate balance between explicit and implicit content is impossible to achieve and the true meaning behind your work goes straight over the heads of your audience. A lot of people simply give up at this point and resign themselves to preaching to the choir - those who hold similar ideas and thus know how to decode and unpack the implicit messages built into highly specialised work.

But every now and then there comes across a piece of work that breaks all boundaries and manages to take the messages and truths guarded by one subculture into other cultural pools. Bands such as Nirvana and Radiohead could be offered as examples; both of them successfully exported previously alternative forms of music into a mainstream context and led to a general surge in interest in their respective genres.

It is with these trailblazers in mind that I continue to write, hoping that the messages I put in my songs manage to transcend the genre and audience of hip hop (and more specifically the sub-genre of alternative hip hop) and speak to a broader audience. It's a daunting task, and one that I go into with no illusions about. Sometimes the most difficult part isn't even constructing effective cross-over songs; it's convincing others that an effective cross-over is even possible (and worthwhile).

But I'm determined not to stop in my attempt to communicate and be heard, both in life generally and in music. Whether my words end up being picked up only by the alternative hip hop community or even just by me, I will not give up on my quest to make authentic music that transcends boundaries and categorisation. For those who set their sights lower, I have no disrespect. But my eyes are fixed on higher things.

Swans Bad Boys

Former St Kilda and Sydney power forward Tony Lockett once described himself rather modestly as 'a thug who could play a bit'. I think that Lockett was being a bit hard on himself; despite his history at the tribunal he was never really that much of an on-field bully (think the Brisbane Lions during their golden years, anyone?)

Perhaps the 'thug' label could be better applied to current Sydney (and former St Kilda) star forward Barry Hall, who on the weekend felled West Coast player Brent Staker with a lightning left jab during an off-the-ball incident.

Apparently there's something with Sydney and recruiting burly ex-St Kilda star forwards.

First there was the man they called Plugger:



Now, in the trained boxer Barry Hall they have Slugger:



...and the saga continues.

How would you feel?

Yesterday Collingwood became the unlucky team that finally let the Blues win a match. When I heard the news, the question that immediately came to me was: How would you feel?

I'm sure the Collingwood players are pretty disappointed with themselves, and the Carlton boys are secretly relieved that they still remember the words to the club song. As for me however, I have mixed emotions.

Part of me is happy that Collingwood were the hapless group to finally gift a win to the Blues; after all that stick that we Bombers fans copped after the 1990 Grand Final it's nice to see the Pies get some of their own back.

On the other hand, seeing the Blues actually win a match is equally distasteful. I'm only glad that we handed them their record-equalling 14th loss last week.

Is this kicking teams when they're down? You betcha. Is it uncalled for? Probably. Is it likely to come back to me in a bad way? Almost certain.

But I live in Melbourne and I follow AFL. This is more than sport to us - it's a religion.

When Journalists Attack

The latest controversy to hit the Australian news media is the mock-salute that Kevin Rudd gave to George Bush at the NATO meeting in Bucharest.

For those who may not be aware (or for those of you who aren't news-addicts like I am, which I assume covers most of you), Kevin Rudd was attending a NATO function in Bucharest and generally hob-nobbing it with other international political figures when he caught sight of George Bush and made the gesture before casually walking over and talking to him. The News Corp website had a handy photo montage:



This casual gesture has more than one Australian politician kicking up dust, most notably the Opposition leader Brendan Nelson and the ubiquitous Greens leader Bob Brown. Mr Nelson said something about the gesture being 'inappropriate', and appears to be arguing that Rudd is one person when he thinks he is being filmed and another when he is not. For me this argument doesn't hold much weight. Kevin Rudd has worked hard to shed his 'Dr Death' image and adopt the bright, friendly 'Kevin from Queensland' persona, and I think that the casual, laid back acknowledgement of a friend (which could be interpreted as a tongue in cheek reference to Australia's undeniably (and unavoidably) close relationship with the US) is in line with Kevin Rudd's new character. Of course I can forgive Mr Nelson, seeing as it would be odd for an Opposition leader to stay silent when the mainstream media begin ragging on the Prime Minister.

I have less sympathy for Bob Brown's comments. Mr Brown once again pulled out the tired, uninspired anti-American rhetoric that he and his ilk have become infamous for. In Mr Brown's eyes, being a larrikin and easy-going are apparently 'belittling' to Australia. According to Mr Brown it takes a 'seasoned maturity to ensure Australia is never second-rated in the international arena', with the underlying message being that in making a playful gesture Kevin Rudd is somehow in danger of showing that Australia still sees itself as 'the 51st state of the US'. My advice to Bob Brown is to seriously consider what it means to be a confident country on the world stage. If the larrikin country can't be even the least bit relaxed because we are so afraid of what the rest of the world thinks about us, what does that say about us as a nation?

Let me point out the following:
1. The function in question was not a serious policy meeting, but rather a casual meet and greet.
2. Kevin Rudd appeared at ease with the US President at all times. It looked to me like Mr Rudd chose to make the gesture, rather than feeling under some obligation to do so.
3. It was a casual (if not playful) gesture; this level of familiarity is the mark of equals, not subordinates. If Australia really did see itself as 'the 51st state of the US', Kevin Rudd probably would not have had the balls to snap off a mock-salute. I know none of the 50 actual US state governors would have.

I therefore suggest that Bob Brown and the news media finish up their little hissy fit, and as quickly as possible. Nobody else seems to care about what gestures the Australian prime minister does or does not make, and in kicking up a massive fuss about this we risk looking like a little kid who is so desperate to hang with the big boys that he keeps trying too hard to fit in. If you're going to criticise the PM, and I believe that there are good reasons to (snubbing our largest trading partner, perhaps?), then for God's sake criticise him for something that is actually an issue.

Then again, it is nice to know that in a rapidly changing world there is still certainty in two things: that the news media is still voracious as ever in its race to the bottom, and that Bob Brown is equally stupid no matter which side of politics he is criticising.

The Windy City? Move over Chicago, I'm talking about Melbourne

We had some pretty extreme weather this week in Melbourne. Our city has always been known for changing its weather faster than a bipolar person changes moods, but this week was particularly bad. We've just come out of a heat wave a couple of weeks ago, and after granting us a small patch of pleasant weather to lull us into a false sense of security mother nature decided to hit us with gale force winds in the second half of this week.

And 'gale force' is not hyperbole; we're talking about winds that uprooted trees, collapsed brick walls and in a couple of cases actually killed people. Welcome to the new windy city: Melbourne, VIC.

To make matters worse, my university (Monash) has always been notoriously windy, which simply made Wednesday even worse. To give you some sense of perspective, here's a picture of a fully uprooted tree, taken during one of the lulls:



The storms also took out large chunks of Melbourne's power grid, with the unfortunate consequence being that the trains were no longer running. When I did eventually make it home, I found out that our entire area was blacked out, meaning that I spent my evening like this:



Most of the damage has been repaired by now, but there are still pockets of Melbourne without power. Overall however, credit has to be given to the emergency services for fixing things up so quickly.

Here's to hoping for some milder weather in the future.

Nineteen Eighty-Four: One Ought Not To Think

In the next edition of what looks to be forming a series of book reviews, this blog entry will attempt to set out some of my thoughts on Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell.

Let me just start off by saying, "Damn, that's some depressing shit." I can't remember the last time I read a book that so completely and absolutely drained the life out of me emotionally. Other films or books may leave you feeling emotionally drained, but Orwell's dystopian opus leaves you feeling overwhelmed and thoroughly numb. Your mind is buzzing with a million thoughts, but you feel nothing except the dull throbbing in between your temples that is most likely the mere physical sensation of blood pulsing through your temples (as opposed to any actual emotional response). Once you finish the book, you are then forced to make sense of all those thoughts careening around your head and attribute some meaning and structure to what you have just read.

Of course with literary giants such as Orwell and books as profound as Nineteen Eighty-Four there are numerous interpretations that can be applied to the text. One of the marks of truly great literature is that it does not confine itself to one interpretation but instead serves as a stimulus for the thought of the reader. For me personally, Nineteen Eighty-Four strikes me as a tour de force of the depressing thought life of an early 20th century intellectual. Most of Orwell's recognised works deal with a topic close to his heart (socialism), and after finishing the numerous (and lengthy) passages describing the thoughts and philosophical development of the novel's protagonist, Winston Smith, it is entirely plausible to think that Orwell is writing from personal experience.

The tone and structure of the novel have all the hallmarks of a work by an intellectual; the disdain for the 'unthinking' commoners (called 'proles'), the bemusement at the fresh-faced enthusiasm for life enjoyed by non-intellectuals (represented by Julia), the inability to look at a situation in any other dimensions besides those governed by strict logic, and the correlating helplessness that one feels towards his own thoughts. Even the structure of the novel and its dialogue are rigorous in their intellectualism; a second read quickly reveals a rigid structure clearly intended to set out a logical argument just as much as it is intended to tell a story.

Without giving too much away, Nineteen Eighty-Four is a tale of one man's interaction with an ultra-totalitarian system run by the Party. And 'interaction' is the most appropriate word; to cast the novel in terms of 'struggle' or 'battle' would not be entirely accurate. While we sympathise with the main character, it is difficult to argue with the changes in thinking that he undergoes as the story progresses. The logic with which Orwell presents his arguments appears irresistable, and within the sphere of the novel one is caught up in the relentless march towards the bleak future envisioned by the all-knowing, all-seeing, all-powerful Party. Orwell mercilessly breaks down objections and counterarguments through a skillful display of sophistry and doublespeak (one of the main themes of the novel), and by the end of the novel I felt that I too, along with Winston, had been changed by the relentless barrages of the Party's skillful brainwasher.

Yet somehow once you close the book and put it down, Nineteen Eighty-Four does not seem so terrifying. Once you set the book down on your lap and look out the window and see the sun, you get the feeling that the future is not preordained and irresistable as the Party argues (quite convincingly). The dull throbbing in between your ears subsides, and like finally making it to the surface of a body of water you feel sanity rushing back into your system like oxygen into the lungs.

Part of this sensation of relief has to do with your background knowledge of the work. You remember that Orwell was a lifetime advocate of 'democratic socialism', and that although he presents the doctrine's corruption and perversion as inevitable in the novel, he himself never gave up faith in it. You also remember that you are reading in 2008, and that you were in fact born after the year in which the novel is set (I was a 1985 baby). You take a look around and realise that you still love your family, that you are not being watched by a telescreen and that there is no insidious Ministry of Love monitoring your inmost thoughts.

You then question how this could be, given all the compelling arguments you had heard. You wonder how the world could have developed as it has, without the inevitable collapse into unremmittingly bleak totalitarianism as envisioned in the novel. At first you start to raise intellectual arguments, but you realise that the novel has already accounted for them. You even have the sneaking suspicion in the back of your mind that Nineteen Eighty-Four is indeed prophetic, and that sometime in the future the world will become just as the novel portrays it. Yet somehow, when you leave the house to meet a friend and have a drink, the thoughts and despair you felt after finishing the novel dissipate and you have a resounding conviction that the novel is just that – a work of fiction. More importantly however, that inner urge you feel pushing you towards the darkness and coercing you to surrender to the primal desire for power subsides, and you actually feel the freedom that you have to live, to love and to think.

In my opinion, that is the fatal flaw behind the arguments of the Party; they are true and can exist only in a thinking man's world. Within that world they not only have the possibility of existence, they have the certainty of existence. Yet the world that we live in is not the world of Nineteen Eighty-Four because it is not a world populated by cerebrals such as Orwell. The world also contains those for whom thought is not supreme, and who act on different motivations and methods of judgment. One might argue that Orwell's rigid logic has taken this into account, and yet his prophecy has not come to fruition – the totalitarianisms he imagined have collapsed since 1984, not progressed. And thus we arrive at the conclusion that perhaps thought is not the answer to everything, even if it can explain everything. There is a point at which rational thought itself is defeated by reality.

To those who have read the novel, the above paragraph must strike you as an astonishing example of doublethink. Yet there is a key difference; it is a type of doublethink that motivates one to move away from the world of Nineteen Eighty-Four, not towards it. Thus we arrive back at the title for my review: One ought not to think. What I have personally taken away from the novel is a true understanding of the wisdom in the phrase, 'you think too much'. As much as it assails logic, life (and now George Orwell) have demonstrated to me that there is merit in that statement. There is a certain point at which thought ceases to be useful, and at that point it should be abandoned. In this information age, thought is viewed more than ever as the source of power, but as Nineteen Eighty-Four demonstrates it can also make us slaves to power. The novel seems to encourage a view that there is no way to escape the pull of logic towards a destitute future, but there is – once you stop thinking, you escape the clutches of the drive towards the 'inevitable' conclusion. Perhaps if Winston had been able to give himself a break from the thoughts which tormented him, even sporadically, he would have had the strength to continue to live with his humanity in tact.

Whether this grasping for a way out is a futile act is not only unknowable, it is a counterintuitive question. For me, what is important is what it shows to each of us individually: that we have the power to escape the descent into darkness that often results from overly-rigorous intellectualism simply by disconnecting ourselves from our thought process. It is my belief that this is what has prevented the world so far from descending into Nineteen Eighty-Four: even if those in power do not realise this fact themselves, they have others near them who for one reason or another recognise that principle and encourage the power-holders to take a break from thinking when they see that thought is becoming unprofitable. Nevertheless, I won't argue with you about my conclusion. To do so would be inconsistent with my basic premise, given that arguing would be an attempt to find an intellectually satisfying explanation for the discrepancies between the novel and reality. No, it is about these very types of topics that the saying is applicable: One ought not to think. And so to buggery with this review, I'm going to get dinner.

Underbelly

Recently I had the opportunity to take a look at the latest and greatest offering from the Australian TV drama fraternity: Underbelly. At first I was skeptical, seeing as I've never really been able to enjoy any dramas from my own country to date, but after watching a couple of minutes I was won over by the slick presentation, fast pace and solid acting. It also helped that the subject matter was seedy urban underworld gangsterism.

One of the first thoughts that I had after watching a few episodes was, 'When did Australia become cool?' The so-called 'cultural cringe' that was such a topic of discussion within the arts community during the 1990s has all but been obliterated, and now we can all watch productions such as Underbelly with as much enthusiasm as we do shows like Law and Order or Resevoir Dogs. Somehow it no longer seems corny to hear an ocker accent, and the phrase 'mean streets of Melbourne' no longer produces smirks. Underbelly is perhaps the first time in memory that I've found an Australian show that could really match it with those produced in the US and the UK in terms of not only production values but also entertainment value.

A further exploration of these thought led me to realise that this new boldness is not just limited to TV, but also extends to the entertainment industry more widely and even to mainstream Australian identity. On the radio we hear Australian rappers tearing up beats with ocker accents, and we even have advertisements portraying Australians as cool and level-headed while lampooning what we see as the stereotypical ignorant American (the Commonwealth Bank ad with the renegade koalas, in case you were wondering).

This change has been subtle, and has largely crept up unnoticed on me. In my estimation it really started to develop around the mid-2000s when Australia's heady economic progress led to a newfound sense of accomplishment and a wholescale reconfiguration of national identity that saw Australia recast as the 'can-do' nation. Suddenly the pessimism and larrikin spirit that had characterised our country took a back seat to the work ethic and consumerism that were the calling cards of the Howard Government. For me as a rapper, the change is noticeable in that the current generation of young hip hop heads (who came up around the mid-2000s) are now invariably using Australian accents, whereas the slightly older heads such as myself are generally split between adopting American accents or retaining our Australian ones.

Initially this change struck me as a positive one; Australia was finally putting out the polished product that would put us in the top bracket of worldwide competition and allow us to hold our heads high. But I then realised, as I often do, that things were not as simple as they seemed. The complication was this: it appears that our ability to compete with the Americans has come at the price of adopting American values. Which really means that although we may speak with Australian accents, the function and focus of discourse are now more American than they have ever been.

Underbelly is a case in point. What is it that makes this series so compelling? If I had to take a stab in the dark, I'd probably say that it's the wanton violence, big-city ethos and the liberal application of sex and drug use to flesh out (no pun intended) the general story. The same things that attracted us to the American films that portrayed the flashy gangster lifestyles of New York mobsters can now be set out in our own backyard. Melbourne, Australia is no longer a small, quiet city but a bustling criminal metropolis just like Chicago or Los Angeles. Perhaps even more than the high production values, the thing that makes Underbelly seem so 'professional' is the subject matter: it's very much like an American gangster flick, only Australian.

The same can be said for Australian hip hop. While the technical proficiency and ingenuity of todays Australian rappers can't be doubted, there is a certain hollowness to the music. It is American in all but name. The style of the beats, the topics and even the lingo are all the same – it is American hip hop coming out of Australian mouths. Australia has arrived, but perhaps at the expense of itself.

Personally I don't think that this is necessarily a bad thing. I for one have always been open in my appreciation for American culture: the glitz, the work ethic and the energy. I think that there is no greater proof of this than my decision to stick with an American accent (which I still maintain is the international accent for hip hop) in my music, even when it has become deeply unpopular in Australian hip hop circles to do so . Of course I don't like everything about American culture, and I equally appreciate my native culture as well. If I had to choose a place to live, there is no question that I would be exactly where I am now.

The thing that I find about ironic is that a lot of these developments have been motivated by a curious mixture of the aforementioned cultural cringe (ie a determination to show the Americans that we're not inferior to them) and the strange love-hate relationship that Australia has with the US: we secretly lust after their lifestyle, but we also possess a pathological desire to look down on them. Well I can say, watching series like Underbelly and listening to Aussie hip hop, that we have beaten the Americans at their own game – in terms of quality, our products are just as good if not better than those produced in the US. But in the conflict between motivations the former has won out: our desire to be better than the Americans has blinded us to the desire to be different from them. As the cop Owen from Underbelly points out: 'If we do the same things as them, how are we any better than them?'

The bottom line in my thinking is this: Australia has always been great as a laid-back, yet hard-working place. Ask the Americans that come here to shoot movies or do tours: they'll all tell you that the best part of Australia is that life is so much calmer here than it is in America. Australia is rapidly moving up in the world, and the sleepy suburbia that most Australians remember from their childhoods no longer exists. That sort of a society is great for living in, but not so great for setting movies in. And I don't know about you, but I'd prefer to keep my actual life and the fantasy entertainment world that I retreat to every now and then very much separate. All in all however, this shift to a more American style of life may not be a bad thing; if we want to compete on the world stage we do have to lift our game. But let's stop all the nonsense about the new 'Aussie pride' – there is no pride to be had in keeping the accent but losing the soul.

Hell yes, I'm good

It may not look like much in this tiny picture, but as someone who has been slaving away for years on a small 15" CRT monitor and crappy $50 speakers (whose subwoofer bludgeons the life out of you with no separate bass volume control) I feel entitled to be happy about my upgrade to a fat 22" LCD monitor and sleek Logitech speakers.

Sure I'm around $450 poorer, but seeing as I spend so much time in front of this machine I figured it's worth the investment.

A Hollow Victory

For those of us involved in the culture, the current state of hip hop and its future trajectory are issues of fierce debate. On the one hand we have those who are in favour of recent developments in hip hop, pointing out that the art form has now outgrown many of its old boundaries and become much more democratised. Other people lament the current form that hip hop has taken, critical of what they see as a glut of poor quality music and a general lack of direction. The vast majority of hip hop listeners however are simply content to listen to the music that they have in front of them, and really couldn't care either way.

As for me, I can see some validity in both points of view. To my mind the home-recording and MySpace revolution is in general a good thing for the artform. This, more than anything else, has contributed to the democratisation of hip hop and allowed a whole new range of voices to be heard. Of course at the same time the disembodiment of hip hop from its native environment and culture have created the same dislocation of identity that an individual suffers, except on a much larger scale. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I'm highly critical of the current 'no effort required, get rich quick' attitude prevailing in popular hip hop and the prevelance of various 'joke' and 'spoof' rap tracks.

One thing is for certain: hip hop has expanded to the point where there is no putting the jack back in the box. As I discussed in my earlier post '2001: A Hip Hop Odyssey', hip hop was already at the crossroads as far back as the turn of the millenium. Now however it is starting to resemble a lazy twenty-something that won't stop sponging off his parents and sleeping over at his girlfriend's place.

I agree with the so-called 'underground' heads that hip hop has lost its way, but I propose a different direction. Most of these so-called guardians of 'pure' hip hop are in fact inventing their own permutation of the culture; original hip hop was not the highly-regulated, formulaic lyrical sport that it is today. Golden era hip hop was about more than rigidly relying on a formula of multi-syllabic rhymes and witty punchlines. Sure today's underground heads talk about the same thing as golden age rappers did (eg hot lyrics, sneakers, battling), but they miss what made those things so unique and special in that period of time. I can guarantee that golden age rap from back then was not as static as 'golden age' music from today is.

In my mind the future of hip hop lies in maturation and development. In other words, hip hop has to grow up and grow out of its cliches, blindspots and prejudices. And the main impediment to this development is not the artists (as these 'purists' often claim); it is the audience. Just as voters get the governments they deserve, listeners get the music they deserve.

A case in point is the debate surrounding Kanye West's 'Diamonds from Sierra Leone' remix. In my mind, Kanye's take on the track was witty, incisive and relevant. However most of the buzz around the track seems to be about how Jay-Z's guest spot stole the limelight. What is really disappointing about this evaluation is that Jay's verse just brings more of his braggadocio, something that you can get listening to any Jay-Z track. The fact that Kanye's verse, which deals with an important social and political issue, was overlooked simply because Jay's had better punches (which is debatable) is just plain sad.

Before I go any further, let me clarify a few things. Firstly, I don't think that Jay-Z's braggadocio has no place in hip hop. I think that Jay is one of the giants of the genre, and for good reason. Secondly, I don't even think that Jay is a one dimensional rapper who couldn't write about conflict diamonds if he wanted to. I personally believe that Jay-Z is a very intelligent, yet very savvy rapper who knows what will sell and what won't. He tells us as much on his excellent track 'Ignorant Shit'. The fact of the matter is that because Jay-Z is solely motivated by sales, his music is a perfect reflection of his audience. And that reflection isn't very flattering.

The reflection that we see in Jay-Z's music is that of a self-obssessed, money-obssessed, sex-driven megalomaniac who is only concerned with personal profit. The sort of character which, ironically, fuels illicit industries such as the conflict diamond trade.

As I said earlier, music is a reflection of its audience. Unlike what certain underground heads would have you believe, artists only have so much control over their content. Not only are they constrained by sales considerations and record label execs, they are also influenced by the culture in which they reside. No artist (myself included) is completely free of influence from the zeitgeist in which they write; to some extent every artist will cave into popular demands. Therefore the solution to hip hop's ills lies not in changing the artist, but in changing the listener.

If hip hop heads became truly well-rounded individuals with a range of interests, an open mind and a passion for excellence you would see music reflecting those values, seeing as anything else wouldn't sell. Thus the key lies not in blaming what we see on TV or hear on the stereo; it lies in taking a good look at ourselves and pushing ourselves to be the sort of people that demand a balanced and high-content musical diet.

If not, verses like Jay-Z's on 'Diamonds from Sierra Leone' will continue to be regarded as the hottest thing going around. However, due to the vacuous nature of his audience, Jay-Z's victory will be a hollow one.

Thoughts on employment

Yesterday was a good day for me. Not only did I find out that I've won the academic prize for being the top insolvency law student last year, I also received a job offer from one of Australia's largest law firms.

And I know what some of you are thinking: 'Damn, I really liked the guy...why'd he have to be a lawyer?'

To be honest when I first started studying law four years ago I had similar thoughts running through my mind, and I've only really set myself on a career in law for around a year now. My thinking is this: my skill set is best suited to law, and rather than pushing myself in community legal centres or social aid organisations (which I've done my share of over the past few years) I'd be better off working in a place where I can do good work, earn a good wage and put my money into organisations I feel do good things. You can laugh that off as naivety or self-deception, but that's what I've honestly concluded after several years of exploring my career options.

Plus, for a law student with my background (Arts/Law double degree, major in Japanese), there are only so many options. A lot of other law students with a commerce background have jobs in the commercial world, and many arts/law students move into human rights or government. I unfortunately find myself unsuited to any of those fields. And at the end of the day, it's about being to enjoy your work, put food on the table, take care of your family and have a little something left over for yourself and society at large.

While I know it's going to be a real slog for the first couple of years, I can honestly say I'm excited about going to work for this firm. People I know who have worked there have told me a lot of good things about it, and it suits up very well with my aspirations career wise.

All that aside, it's interesting to see how important employment has become to society and to me personally. My parents were ecstatic, and my friends were all eager to shake my hand and offer their congratulations (many of them could no doubt empathise with the grind and stress associated with looking for work). And personally, receiving the offer felt like having a huge burden taken off my shoulders. The fight for work is so competitive these days that your life really does bend around it, and with my employment settled I can enjoy my final year of uni with the knowledge that my immediate future is taken care of.

There is little doubt that our society (or at least Australian society) has become more work-focused over the past decade or so. I work part time as a home tutor, and the pressure I see on kids these days is even more intense than when I was their age. The stereotypes I was fed as a kid that the immigrant kids were hard workers and the local white kids were all slackers has well and truly been put to rest.

Part of me worries about the social implications of this development, as I've studied Japanese society quite deeply and am well aware of the effect that a work-focused culture can have on individuals, families and society at large. Nevertheless you won't find me dropping out of the race: whatever the truth of the matter, you need to be around and relevant in order to find out and make a difference. Whether I do turn into the sort of soulless, cynical lawyer that I feared I would become is yet to be seen, and I can only hope that the lessons that I've learned over the past few years stay with me in the years to come. However one thing is certain: for now, my path is set out for me and there's no looking back.

The Da Vinci Code: Flawed But Entertaining

The other week I finished reading The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown, and I've been meaning to write a review since then but I just haven't found the time until now. I know I'm about four years behind the times, but I had a little free time and when I saw it in the library I decided that I might as well become acquainted with a novel that has sparked worldwide controversy and lined the pockets of Dan Brown and his publisher.

My assessment of The Da Vinci Code is, as my title suggests, mixed. I have no doubt that it is a good novel (although not a great one), but it is flawed not only in its history but also in its technical nature as a piece of fiction. For me there were too many serious flaws to seriously rate this book as a recommended read, but this should not discourage someone who wants to find out what all the fuss is about. In one way, The Da Vinci Code is a lot like literary fast food: you feel good while you're doing it, but it's very difficult to feel good about afterwards.

First, let me start off with the good. As a thriller, the book is quite well written. There are a number of plot threads that all blend quite well, and Dan Brown knows what to reveal when in order to keep the reader turning the pages. Secondly, Brown's complex conspiracy theory is very well told. Little by little the pieces are put together in a way that is both convincing and entertaining; something that is achieved by very few writers. Finally, the novel is very neatly trimmed; with something as large as a conspiracy engulfing the world's largest religion there was always the risk of the plot ballooning out to worldwide proportions. However Brown steers the book very carefully and keeps the story confined to a size that the average person can follow and appreciate.

However most of these strengths are overshadowed by the far more telling flaws. Firstly, Brown's writing technique is not without its flaws. Perhaps the two largest technical flaws in the novel are the characters and the length. However both of these problems are the result of the second major fault with the novel: its conspicuous and at times painful misuse of facts. The net result of these two factors is this: if you know very little about the subject matter (namely history, religion and art), you can enjoy the novel as a work of fiction. However if you know any of the three in any depth (I consider myself fairly attuned to the historical and religious issues in the book) you will find that Brown's conspiracy theory is much less convincing, and the characters less impressive. This in turn contributes to the sensation of drag, whereby you wish that Brown would finish explaining his conspiracy theory and get back to revealing the key mysteries behind the characters. I could go into the factual inaccuracies and their impact on the effectiveness of the novel as a work of fiction, but there are literally shelves of books on the subject.

Finally the thing that really nailed the coffin on The Da Vinci Code for me was it's freshman college approach to the world. Reading the novel I felt like it could have been written by an eighteen year old kid who had just started college and was so thrilled with all the stuff he had learned that he wanted to show it off and look down on people. The Da Vinci Code works for many because of its copious name dropping and veneer of intellectualism; you feel like you are being let in on a big secret, and you are so excited to have access to this hidden knowledge that you temporarily suspend your questioning of the teacher (ironically another major theme of The Da Vinci Code). Equally patronising are Brown's attempts to feign impartiality towards Christianity, with his painful monologues on how Jesus was supposed to be a great humanist leader worthy of our respect. Both these elements remind me of the sort of unrefined pseudo-intellectualism that permeates those in their first years of tertiary education, and to be honest it makes me cringe because it reminds me of when I used to think about the world in a similar fashion.

Don't get me wrong – I read the Da Vinci Code in two sittings, with the second one being several hours. I definitely wanted to see what happened next and to find out what the conclusion would be like. It's just that with the length of the novel and the mounting inaccuracies and blatant misrepresentations (or shoddy research, whichever you prefer) the book became more tedious the further I waded through it.

In conclusion, it is easy to critique The Da Vinci Code in the same way that it caricatures Catholicism: overly-simplistic, but enjoyable if you suspend your disbelief and go along for the ride. This is definitely not a book for intellectuals: too much thought and Brown's intricate and carefully spun web will fall apart. This leads me to believe that Dan Brown is one of three things: either he is a pulp fiction writer who has somehow struck it lucky, he is a very clever man who is out to line his pockets, or he is one of the great ironists of our time. Given some of the interviews of his that I've read, my thoughts are that he is probably somewhere in between the first and second categories.

Whatever the case is, one fact is certain: Dan Brown is a very rich man.

All Roads Lead To Rome...but most of them are closed

I'm normally quite a patient driver; you won't normally find me cutting lanes and speeding through amber lights (not unless there's a sale on at JB Hi-Fi), and apart from inconsiderate drivers I'm normally quite tolerant of most other road users. However recently a couple of things have contributed to a rise in the overall level of road angst I'm experiencing when I hop into my car.

The first is the amount of road work going on. It seems that almost everywhere I look they're tearing the road up. Now I don't have a problem with this per se - believe me, I've been to New South Wales and I'm thankful for the job that VicRoads has done thus far. However there are some places that just seem to be under perpetual rennovation, and no matter how many times I drive past there (at 40km/h under the watchful eye of the burly man in the hard hat with the 'SLOW' sign in hand) it seems that the project is not progressing. I understand that roads are in need of constant maintenance, but can't the job be done faster or at a more convenient hour? I'm not sure either the drivers nor the workers enjoy the congestion and the stress associated with it. Can't the work be done later at night or early morning?

The second are the speed limits. I have to confess, I'm a cautious driver - I don't break the speed limits unless I have to. If someone's in a rush, let him overtake me. However there comes a point where the speed limits just become ridiculous. In my opinion suburban streets should be 60km/h, main roads (two lanes in each direction) should be 70km/h, and school zones should be abolished. I think that the focus the government is placing on speed limits belies a myopic view of the road toll problem; a more effective method is to try and change driving culture and driving standards. Anyone who's had to drive through a school zone at 9:30am, when ALL of the kids are in class but drivers outside are still expected to crawl along at 40km/h, will be able to sympathise. The increased presence of cops waiting around these 40km/h zones is not increasing driver awareness; it is increasing driver anxiety. How about we spend more time looking ahead of us instead of down at the speedometer, hmm?

I guess the straw that really broke the camel's back for me was exiting the freeway today and immediately transitioning into a school zone. That means that in the time you get off the exit ramp you need to have decelerated from 100km/h to 40km/h. This is just ridiculous. Who builds a freeway next to a school without considering these things, anyway? What's more, the school was not readily visible from the exit, meaning that those drivers expecting to enter the road at 70km/h were in for a nasty surprise.

So my message to VicRoads is: shape up or ship out. You're frustrating good drivers and failing to have any impact on the hoons that cause the majority of the smash-ups.

The 14th of February

Although it's actually been a couple of days since Valentine's Day, I thought that in this rare quiet period I'd pen a couple of thoughts on the day that has dominated this week.

I think that Valentine's Day, like most other major holidays, is neither an entirely good nor an entirely bad thing. As with most things in life, it's how one approaches it. I suppose the only thing that Valentine's Day (or indeed Christmas or any other major holiday) does is amplify our characters - everything is brought out into the open.

There will of course be the counter-culture warriors, who stalwartly 'bah humbug' their way to spinsterhood and lonely bachelordom, the opportunistic women, who see the day as a way to bludgeon yet another diamond bracelet out of their man, and the under-invested man who sees Valentine's Day as a way to keep his woman's emotional needs satiated for the year. It's not hard to see why these sort of people give the day a bad name.

Amidst all the gift giving and general chaos in the package delivery industry it's easy to forget that there are those who choose to utilise the day appropriately: Valentine's Day, as it is conceived in the public imagination, is a day on which we focus on love. This does not mean that it is THE day for romance, to the exclusion of others; nor does it necessitate the vapid and perfunctory giving competitions that are an unfortunate by-product of a consumption-based society. Valentine's Day should be viewed as an opportunity to do for others rather than a burden or an opportunity to receive.

So next time February 14 rolls around, give your significant other a call and let them know how much you love them. Buy something nice for them, go out for dinner and maybe even do what most couples end up doing on Valentine's Day. Just don't forget that Valentine's Day is about you and your partner, not about anyone else. Have eyes for your partner only, and trust them to have eyes only for you. Personally I think that that's more special than any amount of roses or chocolate.

And I know what you're asking - is that what I did for Valentine's Day? Does the man practice what he preaches? Well you'll have to wait until next year for that one as well - I claim exemption on the basis of being single.

Best of luck to all the world's couples, and I hope you had a great Valentine's Day.

More thoughts on the US elections

Since the US elections seem to be dominating the media both here and abroad, I thought I'd offer a couple more thoughts on the subject. Since I last posted on the topic a number of big changes have occurred - McCain is the Republican nominee (just this morning I read that the vanquished Mitt Romney is now going to formally endorse McCain), and Obama and Hillary look like going down to the wire.

Just a couple of thoughts on the current situation:

- All of the candidates are articulate and presentable as leaders of the most powerful nation in the world. We're not going to have to worry about posters of 'Clinton-isms' or 'McCain-isms' (or at least the mistakes will be political, not grammatical)

- The fight for the soul of the Republican party is in a way just as fierce as the one for the Democratic party, even though the Republican party now has its nominee. McCain had better hurry up and get the remaining hundred or so delegates he needs, because until he does Huckabee will stay in the race and be a real obstacle to McCain's attempts to rally the conservative wing of the Republican party.

- President Bush's endorsement of McCain as a 'true conservative' won't be worth much.

- Clinton has to avoid looking flustered. Nothing will kill her campaign faster than appearing like she has an entitlement mentality as a result of panicking when her 'inevitable' candidacy appears under threat.

- Obama's main job from here on out is to not make a mistake. Easier than it sounds, but still probably easier for him than for Hillary given that he is the frontrunner and politically a much smaller target.

- The Democratic nomination is far from settled. Don't feel let down if we go to the November poll with a choice between two old white people.

And, given that it's 7:30 and I've just come off a two hour morning shift for the news service that I work for, that's all I've got for now.

Stay posted.

More quality news

Well at least it's nice to see that SOME news outlets are carrying the big stories that affect all our lives.

Zenith is...'Moderately Gifted'?

This morning, while I was trying to avoid doing all the busy work I have piled up on my desk, I decided to click on one of those website ads and do an IQ test for the hell of it. If you want to see what test I did, I took the one at www.iqtest.com.

After a couple of minutes of trying to work out number sequences and handle palindromes I was sent an e-mail that told me I have an IQ of 139. Having had my intelligence measured by a reputable clinician I then went to another reputable source to put the figure in context: Wikipedia.

According to one measure of grouping IQ scores, my score of 139 qualifies me as 'moderately gifted':

80-114 Average Intelligence
115-129 Bright
130-144 Moderately Gifted
145-159 Highly Gifted
160-175 Exceptionally Gifted
Over 175 Profoundly Gifted

Well, 'moderately gifted' isn't very helpful. Does that mean I can come up with an average exceptional piece of work? I did a bit of further snooping and I found some interesting celebrity IQs:

Republican 2008 Nominees:
John McCain: 120 - 130.
Mike Huckabee: 110 - 125.
Mitt Romney: 122.


Democractic 2008 Nominees:
Barack Obama: 121 - 137.
Hillary Clinton: 140.
John Edwards: 124.


Past Presidents:
Bill Clinton: 137
George W Bush: 125


The fact that I'm 'smarter' than pretty much all of the major US politicians for the past decade and a half (apart from Hillary) isn't much comforting, except for the fact that the US President is surrounded by policy wonks and the fact that my IQ score from an internet site is probably wrong.

On another interesting note, I'm apparently a step behind such intellectual luminaries as Shakira, Madonna and Geena Davis, who all scored 140. But even they're not up to the level of Ms Sharon Stone, who is apparently 'highly gifted' with a score of 154. Which just goes to show that women are in fact smarter than men.

...or does it?

It's hard to tell with all this qualified, quantified, reputable information floating around.

Why does The Age even bother?

Generally I'm quite tolerant of the organised media. While I used to be the sort of person who would squabble about perceived left-wing or right-wing media bias, I've learned that there are more important (and productive) things to do with my time and energy. Nevertheless, there are certain instances when the final straw breaks the camel's back.

Today's edition of The Age was one such moment. I've been reading The Age for the past couple of years, and I have to say that I've noticed a significant decline in the quality of the paper in that time. Now I'm getting to the point of exasperation, wondering whether The Age should even bother calling itself a broadsheet.

I can tolerate the watering down of the content and the influx of mX-style tidbit stories, but one thing that I can't stomach is clear editorialising outside of the opinion section. It's no secret that The Age is a left-leaning paper, but to have such blatant one-sided reporting is really unacceptable. If the paper wants to applaud the Rudd Government's summit, it should do so using its editorial for the day. And for the record I have no problem with the Rudd Government or the summit per se; I'd just like to be able to make up my own mind on the subject.

If this keeps up, I'll have to find another use for my Age subscription...doorstops, anyone?

To be two or not to be two

Yesterday the US presidential elections just got interesting. With the withdrawal of Rudy Guliani and John Edwards from the Republican and Democratic races respectively, both the nomination contests are in effect down to two candidates each, which I find much more fascinating than the erratic multi-horse race that we've suffered until recently (particularly on the Republican side).

It's my personal belief that while having multiple candidates to choose from is a sign of a healthy democracy in theory, in practice it can lead to some of the worst and lowest populist outcomes that a democratic system can generate. When the average voter is faced by a slather of candidates they will either be turned off by the complexity of it all and not vote, or be motivated to vote by single hot-button issues. Obviously the second problem will occur in any race, but I feel that it is more pronounced and worrying in a multi-candidate field. For example, Mike Huckabee carried Iowa largely on the morals platform, Hillary Clinton winning New Hampshire largely because of females who sympathised with her, and Barrack Obama taking the goods in South Carolina because he is an African American (ironically, in a different sense of the word to the one usually used).

Some may argue that this is good for democracy in that it stimulates the public to back its horse and galvinises those who otherwise would not vote. However to vote in a democracy is an act of sovereign power, and one that should not be encouraged simply for its own sake. What I mean by all this is that I am worried that, in a splintered field of candidates without a clear frontrunner, the true issues of substance such as policy and mettle will be lost in a sea of 10 second sound bites and hot-button issues.

Now the American public has a much better chance to seriously scrutinise the remaining four presidential pretenders and make an informed decision. While I am sad to see some candidates go, especially someone like John Edwards who was so passionate about social justice, I would prefer the American people to seriously consider four candidates than roll dice to decide between eight.

And my thoughts on the four remaining candidates? I don't think I really have any credentials to be a pundit apart from reading the papers, but then again I don't particularly think that many actual pundits have strong credentials to do their jobs anyway. That being so I might as well start with the negative side of things.

With Barrack Obama I'm worried that if he gets elected on a centre-left platform and a cult-personality following he may go the same way as Tony Blair in the UK once tough decisions have to be made. Blair was also touted as the 'healer' when he came to power in 1997, loved by the majority. He left in 2007 in a storm of controversy and shunned by a public amongst whom 'Blair-hating' had become a national pasttime. Obviously the President has more far reaching powers than the Prime Minister, but if Obama is running on a platform of unity that may crumble once substantive decisions have to be made. If not, and if he attempts to consistently tow his populist line he may not have the strength or mandate to make tough decisions that need to be made.

Which brings us to the 'hard' candidate, John McCain. Personally I like McCain – he has the bearing of a leader and a proven tenacity and resilience that none of the other candidates have. Additionally he has never been the front runner until he was propelled to that position by the voting public, something I find to be a true vindication of his campaign. That being said however, there are three main concerns with McCain: firstly, his age. The guy's 71, and is old enough to be Barrack Obama's father. Will he really be able to put up with the constant strain of the modern US presidency and yet be able to keep a rein on his temper (his second main problem)? Finally, McCain has only been cautiously accepted by the Republican conservative wing, and he is still yet to win over the ultra-conservatives. If these king makers are so hard to get on board, will McCain have the strength to pull through difficult times without them (or even against them)?

Another candidate for whom opposition seems to be a defining characteristic is Hillary Clinton. She is clearly a very smart, capable woman who for too long has been hidden in the shadow of her charismatic husband. But where Barrack is strong, she is weak: can a woman who 47 per cent of Americans say they won't vote for lead the country? Will Clinton bashing be the successor of Bush bashing? With the current economic downturn and geopolitical turmoil, America needs to have a strong leader (which Hillary would certainly be), but also a leader who can unite to lead.

Which brings us to the wildcard Mitt Romney. To me he is the candidate that doesn't fit neatly into any of the boxes; he is a true big-business economic conservative, but he is yet to be fully embraced by the Republican conservative core. He is also trying to grab some of the 'morals' vote with his strong family values, but many of the 'values' voters will be turned off (fairly or unfairly) by his equally strong Mormon faith. And despite the amount of money he is pumping in he is still trailing behind a man whose campaign was declared dead not a few weeks ago. Will the pieces of the puzzle come together for Romney in time?

To a cautious person like myself, the familiarity of McCain and Clinton is appealing. But then again I'm circumspect enough to know that the world is changing rapidly, and that my gut instinct is not always right. I personally like Obama and I agree that his message resonates with me, but I'm still not sold on him until I see something more substantive (which is not to say there isn't any substance). Romney remains the unknown quantity, and the candidate on whom I have the least to say. My views haven't crystallised yet, and probably won't until the two parties have elected their candidate. But whatever the case, I can only hope that from now on the discussion will move to issues of substance instead of symbolism.

The Djoker Gets The Last Laugh

Last night, instead of doing job applications or writing verses I sat glued to the TV watching Novak Djokovic claim his first grand slam at the 2008 Australian Open. Despite losing the first set due to nerves on his part and great tennis on the part of his opponent, Djokovic overcame the deficit and a cramp in his left leg to win the next three sets and the title.

The first time Djokovic came to my attention was around this time last year when he announced that he would beat Roger Federer. At that time I was still on the Fed Express bandwagon, wanting to see how many trophies he could accumulate, so I didn't really like this upstart Serb. And, true to Roger's form last year, Djokovic got pounded.

But 12 months later I've seen a lot more of Djokovic and I have to say that he's won me over. He is clearly a very competent player, but he's also struck a healthy balance between humility and confidence. He knows that he has the talent to be the number one, and he's proved it this tournament by downing Federer. Yet despite all this promising talent Djokovic remains humble and courteous on court and off, much like Federer himself. And despite the wave of sentimentality that drove the crowds to Jo Wilfred Tsonga's corner last night (or perhaps because of it), I was yelling at my TV screen urging Djokovic on to victory.

To illustrate why I like players like Djokovic and Federer I only have to compare them to Djokovic's opponent last night, Tsonga. That brooding, scowling face and the absolute refusal to recognise Djokovic right until the end turned me off immediately, and not even his crowd-stirring histrionics could win me over. He may have been the 'feel-good' story of the tournament, but his abrasive character is something that I couldn't embrace. Similarly I couldn't understand why the crowd backed Tsonga over Djokovic, given that Djokovic had worked hard to ply them and Tsonga was simply riding on a wave of tall poppy syndrome.

Yet in the end last night demonstrated a great truth about life; although the crowd is a factor, skill will always carry you across the line. Djokovic overcame three opponents last night: Tsonga, the weight of expectation and a hostile crowd. To do that required tremendous mental strength and deep reserves of talent. Congratulations, Novak Djokovic – at least for now you have my support.