The Red Pill Survival Guide

UPDATE: Cross-posted over at Left-Flank


I swore I'd never sign up to Twitter. "What's the point?" I'd ask. "It's just status updates like Facebook."

In June 2009 I found myself deciding what my Twitter username would be.

What bought about this change in attitude? Well, Grods, if you must know. Scott made the announcement that Bron had signed up. She had previously been as vocal as I had about the obvious pointless act of being part of the Twitter masses.

We were both wrong.

I hear time and again that it's an exercise in vanity. That no one wants to hear what you had for breakfast; updates are narcissistic; the tedious chatter isn't worth your time.

Yes, following celebrities* is amusing at first but with the occasional exception they are quite repetitive and dull. Most politicians aren't much better, with many leaving the updates to staffers who will only make scheduling announcements. Malcolm Turnbull is the perfect example of a politician who uses the medium well, and if you mention Tony Burke to any politics obsessive on Twitter they'll probably reminisce about #tweetlikeTonyBurke at its height.

But Twitter is more than 140-character updates or a way to find out what Trent Reznor thinks of Bono. It's a conversation between friends. We provide support for each other in small bursts of words; we share each others joy and heartbreak. We have fun. We share information and provide assistance to those in need. A few weeks ago, a much-loved twitter user was incredibly intoxicated and was tweeting as he was walking home. One of his followers took pity on him, picked him up and took him home safely. That is the kind of kinship online communities provide.

A family.

I've conversed with people who I would otherwise never have met. Twitter, the internet**, redefines friendship. I no longer refer to my offline life as IRL; Twitter is just as real. It may seem peculiar to anyone who isn't familiar with the camaraderie that evolves from social media - how can people who have never met in person be friends? Well, one of the wonderful things about human nature is that we seek out meaningful connections with those we don't know face-to-face. Our parents had pen-pals - people they'd never met in person - they'd write to each other, talking about their lives. Are the friendships that are formed via pen and ink communication superior to those we form online? I don't believe so.

I've met some of my twitter-pals in the flesh. They've been just as fantastic in person as they are when they're talking to me from another part of the country. One of the most important people in my life is someone I met on Twitter - you know him as NerdBoy but I first knew him as @thewetmale. Twitter meet-ups are quite common. Events such as BTUB help Twitter users connect on a grand scale but there are other social gatherings are less formal and are done as a shout-out to your followers.

For someone like me who is very shy, Twitter can be liberating. By the time I meet someone in person I feel I know them well enough to feel comfort in their presence that I wouldn't if we had never spoken. I feel a sense of connection to those with whom I interact on Twitter, a certain level of care.

We even watch television together. On Monday nights you'll find a gathering of nerds tweeting about Four Corners, Media Watch and, QandA.  On a Sunday morning my stream is full off talk about Insiders.  During the election, twitter was a heaving mass of information, and on the day of the election people were tweeting about fake how-to-vote cards (among other things).

I'm speaking purely about the social benefits of Twitter here, but people do use it for other purposes - marketing is quite common. There are also the "bots" (spambots) that might flood your replies stream with comments or re-tweets because you simply mentioned a few key words. These can be ignored or blocked. Some bots follow you - again, ignore or block, the choice is yours.  There is a project currently underway, run by Jean Burgess, Axel Bruns and others, studying the use of social media such as Twitter, YouTube and Flickr.

For me though, Twitter has had an impact on my life for the better. I may not be on there all the time, I may sometimes have mini-tantrums or breakdowns, or I'll rock up in time to join in the fun of the latest meme (#tweetlikeTonyBurke being one I've already mentioned), but I do feel it helps both myself and others form connections that may have positive effects well into the future***.

I think that makes it worth it.



* defined, in this instance, as people who have made a name for themselves in the field of entertainment - movies, books, television

** anyone who has a blog with regular readers and commenters will understand this. I've made some great friends from blogging - and yes, I've met some offline.

*** Although sometimes, just sometimes, it can all go horribly wrong. (NSFW - nerd nudity)

Like her or not, Lady GaGa is a popular artist in mainstream music at the moment.  In all honesty, I wasn't a fan for a long time, but the songs got under my skin and now I find her enjoyable.

The popularity of her music has, as expected, generated extreme love and criticism (I will talk about Paglia's comments at a later date); but now we have the University of Oregon's On the Rocks (male acapella group) covering Bad Romance.

I didn't realise my life was incomplete until I saw this.



And here is a more produced version. I'm loving the expressions on their faces:



No need to thank me.

I expect by now not only have you heard about the alleged rape that occurred on the weekend but about Spida Everitt's comments on Twitter, and the subsequent loathsome comments by Kerri-Anne Kennerley.

Frankly, I'm finding it rather upsetting.

Well, my friend Elly is so disgusted by what has happened, she's taking matters into her own hands, and she's asking that you help:

So if you are reading this, I’m sure you’ve come across this [the link appears to no longer exist - Michelle] story. Pretty disgusting, but hey, he’s a fool, you wouldn’t expect much. Then came this [same issue - Michelle]. Pay particular attention to the final two paragraphs, where Channel Nine clarifies KAK’s comments by saying the responsibility “cuts both ways with this kind of thing.”

“The responsibility lies with the girls as well as with the guys when you’re talking about alcohol-fuelled situations at three o’clock in the morning.”

I’m not going to insult your intelligence by explaining why this is indescribably unacceptable, especially coming from one of the largest media companies in the country.

I read about this and felt so sick and disempowered and horrified, I just wanted to curl up and cry. Then I got my rage on and decided that I would do something. I live in a regional city; we have a local Channel Nine affiliate station. I endured half an hour of their programming tonight (ACA for anyone wondering, my response to that half hour is a whole story in its self) and made a list of local advertisers. I will be writing a letter to each of these advertisers tomorrow asking them if they endorse Channel Nine’s comments and if they would consider pulling their advertising from the local affiliate. I know this will only have a minimal impact, but at least I’m doing something.

I also made a list of national advertisers. I will post a guide letter and the contact details of these companies. If you could all get on board and send letters too that would be amazing. Please help me to restore my faith in humanity after the horror of the comments thread the second article.

Elly not only sat down and compiled a list of advertisers from Channel 9, she has found the addresses so that you may write to them. She's also written a sample letter that you may wish to use.

Please take the time to write to the advertisers. If they pull their advertising, Channel 9 will learn that the Australian public won't stand for rape apologists.

Thanks

Mx

Tomorrow, if anyone who normally doesn't bother to see if I'm OK asks me "R U OK?", I will probably glare at them.

In theory, the day seems like a good idea. IF it helps people.

To many, asking if someone is OK is a bit of a throw-away question. They don't expect an answer other than "fine" and if confronted with an honest response, can be left wondering what to do next.

People shouldn't be encouraged to ask someone they think might be suffering from some kind of issue if they're OK if they're not given the tools to deal with a negative response.

On another level, it makes me wonder - why only today? Why didn't you ask me the other week when I was sitting at my desk crying? Why today when I look fine and are less likely to cause you discomfort?

Overall, it seems disingenuous to me.

Please, encourage people to seek help if they are suffering from a mental illness or have suicidal thoughts, but they need to feel that people genuinely care for them and aren't just partaking in a token gesture of support.

It is your behaviour and understanding over the whole year that helps more, and convinces people of your sincerity, rather than a national day of concern for their wellbeing.

/cynicism

Did you know if you type "cancer awareness" into Google Images you get pages and pages of breast cancer awareness stuff but little else?

This month is Breast Cancer Awareness month. Why not awareness about prostate cancer? Anal cancer? Ovarian cancer? Testicular cancer? Why breast cancer? Why not just "Cancer Awareness" month?

Now, don't get me wrong, I think cancer - any cancer - is a terrible thing, but why does breast cancer get the most publicity?

Is it because we're talking about *naughty giggles* boobies? :-o

Oh that's right! Other cancers aren't sexy enough! Can't make pretty pink ribbons or pink items to sell off in the name of awareness.

Did you know that when you buy an breast cancer pink branded item, your money is virtually useless? Most companies will put a cap on how much they'll donate, and they'll pay this out upfront, then shill the items with the awareness tag. You could be buying the items months from now, thinking that money is being donated, but the company has already exceeded their donation so are keeping all the profits, not just a portion.

Then there is the Facebook campaign.  Last year, people (i.e. women) were encouraging each other to update their status with the colour of the bra they were wearing. And to "keep it from the guys" so that it would be all random, mysterious and hip.

Because, you know, guys don't get breast cancer!

This year's campaign? Well, I've received this email from several women on facebook:

One of my Facebook friends has suggested that we women should do something special on facebook in order to increase awareness of October Breast Cancer Awareness month. It's so easy to do, that I'd love you to join in to make this a memorable online event.

Last year, the idea was to post the colour of the bra you were wearing on facebook...and it left men wondering for days, why women were posting colours, seemingly at random.

This year's game has to do with your handbag/purse, where we put our handbag the moment we get home; for example "I like it on the couch", "I like it on the kitchen counter", "I like it on the dresser". Well u get the idea. Just put your answer as your status (i.e. don't respond to this message, but put it on your status) - and cut n paste this message and forward to all your FB female friends to their inbox.

The bra game made it to the news. Let's get the purse in as well.

REMEMBER - DO NOT PUT YOUR ANSWER AS A REPLY TO THIS MESSAGE- PUT IT IN YOUR STATUS!!! PASS THIS TO EVERYONE YOU KNOW!

Sexualising a disease is not cool. It detracts from the seriousness of the illness, diminishes the importance of cancer research, and in some cases can be downright offensive to people who have suffered it themselves, or have friends and family who have been affected.

Instead, how about actually donating money directly to a charity? That way, you know exactly how much they are receiving and are directly helping research. If you pay $3 for that pretty notebook, perhaps only 5c will go to charity and you're left with an item that you probably didn't want in the first place.

I'm sorry if anyone finds my comments on this offensive - I just don't think that this campaign is effective or sensitive to those people who suffer any form of illness.

I'm not going to stop people from doing what they want to do. I just want them to be aware that many campaigns like this don't really achieve anything - and companies who encourage you to purchase their items in this manner are doing it more for themselves than for charity.

*gets off soapbox*

After each election I suffer politics burn-out. Understandable given how much I immerse myself in the lead up to, and during, the campaign.

This time it's a little different.

I started suffering burn out during the campaign. This was mostly because of the behaviour of both major parties, and to a lesser degree the way the campaign was reported. The inclusion of Mark Latham as a reporter with an axe to grind was the point at which it was blatant the election had jumped the shark. Sky News reporting on Mark Latham in the press pack was just ridiculous. (I'll leave that right there - we all know what can happen to people who criticise (some) journalism, and besides, that isn't the point of this post.)

The campaign proved to me (and to others apparently, given the way it turned out) that the major parties just don't care anymore. They're more concerned with political point scoring than they are about the people who voted for them. We want politicians who actually talk and think about issues; who aren't duplicates of each other. It would also be great if they'd stop gearing pretty much every promise to people of marginal seats and thus save the rest of the country from ignored.

I am over the supercilious, childish, nonsense coming from both sides of the chamber.

I am about ready to scream the next time someone says any of the following:

• "faceless men"

• "Sussex St assassins"

• "gang of four"

• that the Government will be held to ransom by the Independents and Greens

• that refugees who arrive by boat are going to destroy the country in some non-specific way and that people smugglers are the biggest evil since Mr Bad stalked and murdered people on E-Street

• carbon tax will destroy life as we know it. Hell, ANY tax will destroy life as we know it.

• the insulation program and the BER were complete failures

• pretending that the 2PP vote has any level of importance on the outcome of the election

• the electorate has delivered a message

And finally, the big one:


Rather than bitch, moan and antagonize each other, how about the Government and Coalition address the issues that are important to the people of Australia? You know, the people they are supposed to represent.

I think Jonathan Green summed it up best last week:

It's a fair bet to say that as a people we are done with the political establishment's obsession with the internal contest of politics. We actually elect politicians not to bicker amongst themselves, but by way of delegating the administration of the country, it's (sic) economy, its services. We want constructive debate, clarity and vision. We want something done to begin the transformation of the economy in line with a gentler environment. We want better transport. Cleverer schools. More efficient health services. Justice and health for Indigenous Australians. A coherent approach to resources. Fairness in tax, and the knowledge that the money when raised does us all some good in return.

We don't want tired little games of opportunism dressed up in smug self importance. We don't want wrecking or gotcha. We just want you to get on with the biggest job in the land. And make a difference. Too much to ask?

Finally - stop governing via opinion poll.

**Please note that this post will contain minor spoilers.**

I detested the characters in this novel, yet I couldn't put it down.

It's fairly well-known what The Slap is about, but for those of you who aren't aware, here's the summary from the May 2009 episode of The First Tuesday Book Club:

"In a Melbourne backyard, a group of friends and relatives gather for a barbeque. They enjoy some beer, some food, a game of cricket but a man hits a child, and the boy is not his son. The slap cracks the veneer of suburban ordinariness and echoes through each of their lives. "

The book is structured so that each chapter is from the point of view of someone who was there that day. Whether it is in the lead up to the incident or the aftermath, the differing perspectives give you some insight into how and why the slap occurred.

Jelly said to me that I would "despair for humanity" when I read the novel and I'm afraid she's right. As I was reading I constantly asked myself if this was how other people thought. We all have a certain level of self-centredness; sometimes a streak of nastiness; but these characters seem to take that to the nth degree. Those who I would really have liked some insight on were Bilal and his wife, yet the only real idea you get of their thoughts is when Bilal tells Rosie that he doesn't want her near his family anymore.

I felt blatantly manipulated by Tsiolkas. When you read a novel, you do expect your emotions to be directed, but this should be subtle enough that you enjoy the experience. There was no subtlety and therefore, no beauty in the narrative. The slap, while the central aspect of the storyline, can also be interpreted as a slap to your thoughts, ideas and feelings when reading what is going on in the minds of these people. The racism, sexism, violence and cruelty was overwhelming to me. I did like that there were no moral absolutes, but in the telling I felt like I was being hit repeatedly with a sledgehammer.

The stereotypes grated on me. Working class people are seen as inferior and selfish - they are framed as poor (both financially and morally), bitter and out to get whatever they can. Career-driven single women are seen as cold and unemotional, to the point where an abortion is something that can be done in one afternoon and never thought of again. Teenage girls are vixens, driving married men to cheat on their wives, accusing these same men of rape when they don't get their way.

One theme that ran through the novel was the choice of family over friends. At what point do you forgive your family at the expense of your other relationships? How much can your friends demand of you without your family feeling they are being abandoned? What rights do both parties have to your allegiance and what do you do when you are at odds with one of them? The slap is just a catalyst to push the characters into making decisions that harm (and help) both themselves and those around them.

I was impressed with the way the teenage characters, Connie and Ritchie were written. Tsiolkas was able to capture the contradictions of adolesence; of trying to find who you are when those around you are making demands that you be a certain way. I think the scenes where Connie attends the party, and at the end when Ritchie find someone who he can care about, were touching. My heart broke for Ritchie when he encountered Hector in the dressing rooms at the swimming pool - the pain was palpable. Ultimately, the chapters focusing on Connie and Ritchie made me glad that I'm no longer a teenager.

Yet despite some worthy aspects of the novel, for me the bad outweighed the good. I didn't have a desire to throw the book across the room, indeed, I needed to know what was going to happen to these people; yet I ultimately didn't like any of them. I was left with a feeling of gloom when I finally closed the covers.

I couldn't recommend this book, I'm afraid. But I can see why it is so popular.

For those of you who are unaware of what a Mikey Moment is, I shall direct you to HarrangueMan. The lovely and hilarious Mikey write this blog and has what have been nicknamed "Mikey Moments".

MMs can be cases of foot meeting mouth or actions that leave one sort of embarrassed but able to see the funny side.

You should be reading Mikey's blog anyway, but the MMs make your visit extra special.

Anyway, today I had an almost MM.  Because I caught myself just a fraction of a second before the words came out of my mouth.

Of course, this will not stop me from relating this right now.

The Colonel is what you would easily describe as anal. Keef, a co-irker who I am quite fond of, is also anal, but in some different ways.

On Friday we had a desk move and now they are sitting next to each other.

Today I pointed out that they are suited to sit next to each other. What I didn't say (thank goodness) was that they could be "anal buddies".

Yes, you read that right, "anal buddies".

I'll wait while you stop laughing.

Finished?  OK then.

Keef knew that I had thought something that even I couldn't bring myself to say because he saw the look on my face. That was enough to set him off into fits of laughter. God knows what would have happened if I'd said it out loud.

Especially as, not long before, I was complaining that he was "making me do horrible things for money". That is, work.

So maybe I did have a Mikey Moment after all...

Let's get the fawning over with first shall we?

Emma Stone (lead character Olive) is fantastic in this. The facial expressions alone get me. Stanley Tucci and Patricia Clarkson, whom I both adore, play her very cool parents (parents who treat their kids like mini adults? Who'd of thunk it!)

Penn Badgley is actually not as annoying as his Gossip Girl character, Dan Humphrey but that could also be because he's not on-screen as much as other people.  Thomas Hayden Church (Olive's fantastic English teacher, Mr. Griffith) will always be Ned Dorsey to me and Lisa Kudrow (Mrs. Griffith, Guidance Counsellor) will always be Phoebe Buffay.

OK, on with the rest of the show.

Easy A is a movie essentially about slut-shaming, with some homophobia thrown in.

But is that all there is to it?

No.

Don't let the posters or the previews deceive you. This film actually delves a bit deeper than that.

But first, some basic plot.

Olive is a smart, together, teenage girl.  In order to avoid spending the weekend camping with the family of her friend Rhiannon (Alyson Michalka), she makes up a story about having a date. On the Monday, Rhiannon gets the idea that Olive and the date (his name's George, if you must know) slept together and after a few attempts to convince her that they didn't, Olive decides to got along with it and say that they did.

This confession is overheard by the school's lead bible-thumper, Marianne (Amanda Byrnes), who then proceeds to spread the rumour around that Olive is a slut.

Cut to a few scenes later and Brandon (Dan Byrd) offers to pay Olive if she will pretend that she's slept with him. He's gay, is sick of how this makes him an outsider and just wants to "blend in".  She agrees.

Not long after, one of Brandon's friends makes a similar proposition to her and it all steamrolls from there.

What became apparent to me by the end of the film was that it was sending some pretty cool messages.  It wasn't perfect, of course, but it seemed to run a bit deeper than your average teen film (of late).

It tells teenagers that they will fuck up; adults fuck up. That people won't necessarily like them for who they are and believe anything negative about them, but also that there are people who do like them and don't believe everything they hear. Those people who don't believe everything they hear? They can be found in the unlikeliest places (a teacher, a guy at school, parents). It also shows that sometimes people are willing to take some hits on your behalf, just to make your life a bit easier.

Finally, it demonstrates that despite what happens when you're a teenager, you can move on and it's not the end of the world if people don't think the best of you.

The slut-shaming? Spot on. You cannot deny that if a woman is seen to sleep with a few people she is deemed a whore, but for a man to have multiple sex partners is a stud.  It happens when people think Olive and Brandon have slept together, it happens in real life to teenagers and adults alike.  To deny that is to have your head in the sand.

It's a contradictory little package, this film. Has some embarrassing parts, as well as stupid, childish, insightful, truthful and over-the-top parts. A bit like life, really.

And it's very funny.  Tucci and Clarkson's parents are great as parents who take great joy in revealing to their children a little too much information about their lives. Many of us know how that goes. *shudder*

I really enjoyed it. Think of it as part morality tale, part 80's teen-flick mash up (hello, final scene anyone? AWESOME) sprinkled liberally with some Nathaniel Hawthorne and Can't Buy Me Love.

Is is on par with the John Hughes films that are mentioned in the script and that so many of us grew up on? Not quite, but it's the closest I've seen in quite some time.

 Fat.

Amazing how three letters can carry such a powerful response.

It's not something I've ever mentioned about myself on the blog - mostly because I don't think it changes the person that I am - but I am fat. Not the, "oh my god I'm soooo faaaat!" that some women whine when they've going from a size 12 to 14, I'm talking obese.

I don't really think about it too much. For the most part, it doesn't stop me from doing things I enjoy. Years of not taking care of myself physically due to distractions with my mental state have taken their toll. I know I don't eat as healthy as I should (but it may surprise people who buy into the whole "all fat people eat nothing but junk food" that I do eat healthy much of the time), I'm not perfect, no one is, and I'm less likely to be healthy at work than at home; my main issue is exercise. I hate it, always have. At school I used to make up excuses to not do physical education. Part of this was because I was very conscious of my lack of dexterity, but when I did find stuff I enjoyed, I threw myself into it (fun lunchtime games of basketball in year 10 comes to mind), however mostly it just didn't interest me. I'd rather read a book.

As I progressively got knocked around by depression, my focus moved off trying to be physically well to being mentally well. Of course, I am aware of how exercise and physical health help people mentally, but you have to have the motivation to do it.

For me, this motivation was virtually non-existent. I was struggling to keep my head above water most of the time so any additional effort to do anything just wasn't on my radar.

I'm paying for it now, of course. Over the past 18 months or so I've been up and down weight-wise but I'm slowly getting myself back into my old mind-set. It's not easy to undo over 10 years of self abuse but I'm making the effort.

And I'm doing it for myself, lest you think that I'm trying to justify myself to you. I'm not. This is about me and my life and my body.

As you would expect, I do have more than a fair share of self-esteem issues because of it. I've always been quite shy, but my weight adds to my nervousness in meeting new people. I'm also very conscious of how much space I take up on public transport and the like, going out of my way to try and choose seats that are comfortable for one person but two people (no matter their weight) would find uncomfortable. It's obvious compensation and a form of apology for being who I am, but I'm more comfortable doing this than getting the inevitable looks.

What bothers me the mose is how society thinks that just because you're overweight you're less of a person. You're not as likeable, you're stupid, you're deaf.

Imagine walking down the street and having jerks yelling abuse at you simply because you're fat.

Imagine being in a shopping centre and being apprehensive about walking past a little kid because in the past children have pointed and yelled at the top of their voice, "Look mum! That lady's really fat!" Even worse is when the adult doesn't tell the child it is rude but says, "Yes she is."

What about feeling you have to justify your grocery purchases? If you buy some ice cream because you just feel like some, an urge most people have, you feel you have to offset this by including fruit and veggies. (For the record, I've not done that, but I know the feeling. I just look at the cashier and dare them to say something to me.)

People are offended when others abuse those that are disabled or gay, even if they're merely wearing something that sets them out from the crowd (to name three possibilities). They may even be likely to tell someone they're out of line.

But that rarely happens for fat people.

I know what you're saying - it's an unfair comparison, the gay and disabled don't have any control over who they are. You do, Michelle. You're the one who caused this problem, don't try and hide behind it.

You know what? Fuck you. You're not me. You're not that other person. You don't know the circumstances surrounding why someone is the way they are unless they tell you. Yes, we all make superficial judgements but does that give you the right to be abusive or phobic? No.

But Michelle, it's just a bit of fun!

Sure. Tell that to the person woman who gets thrown dirty looks because she wears an hijab. Tell that to the person who was raped in the name of "fun".

You're overreacting!

Really? So I should allow people to make me feel like shit because of how I look? I should just sit back and let them hurl insult after insult at me because to tell them they are out of line is an "overreaction"?

When you hurt someone physically or emotionally, without their consent, it stops being fun and turns into abusive behaviour.

I've been meaning to write about this for a long time, but I keep getting distracted. Last night, however, pushed me into finally writing about this and yes, I'm about to tell you why.

Monday nights on Twitter are great fun for those of us who are, shall we say, obsessive about politics. It starts with the 7:30 Report and ends at 11 (more or less) with the end of Lateline. We tweet. Our comments are sarcastic, informative, funny, frustrated - but we have fun.

Last night Clive Palmer was on QandA. For those of you who are unaware, Palmer's one of a number of mining magnates who have taken the government to task about the RSPT (or MRRT as it is now known).


Palmer is, what is known in polite society as "corpulent". Or, if you prefer, FAT. OBESE. I actually worry about him. His breathing seems laboured and he is unable to speak whole sentences without taking a breath. Not good.

His politics are not to the taste of many people in my tweet stream, including myself. His comment to Tanya Plibersek regarding her "condition" - she's pregnant - was sexist and unnecessary. But that does not give people the right to abuse him for his weight.

But abuse him they did. Rather cruelly, I might add.

I made a general tweet about cutting out the fat "jokes". It continued. (Granted, not everyone I follow follows me so it's not necessarily going to get through.) Someone else I know told people to cut it out or she'd start unfollowing.

A few people told others to pull their heads in. But it didn't seem to work.

I ended up turning twitter off because it was bothering me that much.

By the end of the night, Clive Palmer was trending on Twitter. Basically, this means that he was being mentioned so much that he was one of the top topics being talked about. When I was in bed I made the mistake of logging back into twitter and looking at the tweets under the Clive Palmer trend.

I really wish I hadn't. I thought the people in my stream were stepping over the line. That was nothing compared to what I was reading - at that time there was nothing but nasty, vile comments about his weight. And retweets about his weight.

Frankly, I was disgusted.

What is even more disgusting is this kind of behaviour is sanctioned by society. Silence supports it. The media and health professionals get behind the "obesity epidemic" hysteria. I'm not denying that more people are obese than they have been in the past, but to make them feel bad about themselves, thereby increasing feelings of worthlessness and helplessness doesn't help.

I would say women feel this more than men. In the larger scheme of things, women in Western society are judged first by their looks and second by their abilities, intelligence and talent.

Take Beth Ditto. She's amazingly talented, gorgeous and strong. She's also obese. She embraces this, has a clothing line, poses naked on the covers of magazines. Does this make her less talented? No. Does she deserve the snark directed at her because of her weight? Hell no. But read comments and article about her and you'd think that she was making an effort to personally offend people by being herself.


Look, we all make nasty comments on occasion. I get that. I'm guilty myself. But the pure venom I have encountered from other people, that I've seen directed at others, is something we, as a society, should be ashamed of.

Next time you're tempted to make a fat "joke", think about the person behind the weight. Think about how you'd feel if someone directed such remarks to you.

Don't tell people to laugh it off. Don't tell them how they should feel about being vilified.

Do not make excuses for abusive behaviour of others.



NOTE: Any concern trolling or abusive comments will not be tolerated and will be deleted.

Yesterday was World Suicide Prevention Day.

Each year thousands of people take their lives, and many more attempt it. The media doesn't report on suicides as there is a positive correlation between the reporting of these deaths and attempts by others.

I'm fortunate in that a suicide has never touch my life directly, sadly this is not the case for people I know, or even those of you who are reading this.

To even consider taking your life, you have to be in a very dark place. A bottomless pit of despair from which you believe you will never emerge.

I know this because I've experienced that level of despair.

When I was 18, in the midst of my first severe depressive episode I considered suicide. I never got to the point where I determined how I would do it, but the thought did hang around for longer than I care to admit.

Whenever I experience a prolonged episode of depression, I will briefly contemplate it as a possibility of ending my pain. (Interestingly, I've never considered how I'd go about it, and I hope I never get to that stage.)

What has stopped me? Well aside from it being a fleeting consideration at most, when I was 18 it was the thought of my grandma finding me - I just couldn't do that to her (I was living with her at the time).

The other times, it was for similar reasons - I couldn't bear the thought of the pain I would cause others. As someone who experiences extreme emotional distress just by merely being herself, I couldn't deliberately inflict that on another.

One thing I've noticed happens when I do contemplate the possibility - I feel a temporary sense of calm. All the negative emotions that I am experiencing vanish, and I'm left with a stillness. I've thought about this a lot and I have a theory (at least as it applies to me) - the contemplation of no more pain gives me a moment of relief from the chaos threatening to explode from my mind. And this momentary quiet gives me the strength to not think about it any further, to not follow through on my thoughts.

This is just my experience, however. Suicide is an act of desperation for someone whose pain is so immense, so suffocating, they don't feel they can tolerate it any longer.

That pain is very, very real. Never assume that suicidal thoughts are a minor thing. Someone (even temporarily) is considering no longer living and they believe that is a very real option. Not an easy option, but another option that will help to end their anguish.

When you're experiencing that level of misery you will grasp at anything that will help assuage the agony your own body is inflicting on you.

My personal thoughts about suicide are mixed. I do believe it is a terribly selfish thing to do, but I understand 100% the reasons behind it. I do feel I must stress that I am not advocating it. Then, add to all this my belief that assisted suicide for terminally ill people should be legal and you can see that it's not a black and white issue in terms of your reasonings behind it and certainly not for those left to wonder why.

I can't even begin to relate how fortunate I am. I have friends and family who love and support me and who I know are there for me even at my lowest. I do find it difficult to ask for any kind of help, but I would like to think that if I really was seriously contemplating taking my own life over a prolonged period, I would have the strength to turn to them.  It has been a little over two years since I last had so much as a brief thought about suicide as a way to stop the misery.

Suicide stems from pain and it causes more pain. Nearly all suicides can be prevented.  If you think someone close to you is suicidal, or you yourself are, please seek help.

It is better to be hated by someone you love for preventing them from taking their life, than it is to hate yourself for not helping them in their time of despair.

Today I was sitting in the cinema foyer, waiting to go in to see Salt (much better than I thought it would be), and I happened to be sitting near one of those arcade games where you put in $2 (or however much it is now) direct a claw to try and pick up a toy and deposit it in the chute. Yeah, the one that no one ever seems to actually score anything from.

This one was for Toy Story 3. So there were toys of the, well, toys. All pretty cute, and quite large.

Anyway, this woman and (I presume) her daughter (probably about 4 years old) were standing in front of it - the mum digging around in her bag for her purse, clearly going to have a go at getting something for the little girl.

There was a guy sitting beside the machine and he asked the girl what she wanted.  She pointed to the dinosaur.

His response? "You don't want a dinosaur! How about that pink piggy?!"

Yep, she's a girl and therefore doesn't really want the dinosaur, because that's a boy's toy!

I glared at him, but he didn't see me.

The mum? She smiled, put the money in, and tried to get the DINOSAUR for her daughter.  Sadly, she didn't get it (of course), but I hope her daughter remembers the time that her mum tried to get her what she wanted, rather than what some douche with antiquated view of gender said she should.

The above is a picture that is doing the rounds on tumblr at the moment. It seems to be (for some people) "proof" that God does not exist*.

Now, as you are all aware, I'm not a religious person. I don't believe in God - or a Christian version of it - but even this strikes me as undeniably stupid for a meme.

It's a painting. Not a photograph. A painting cannot be held as proof of anything. Nowdays, with photoshop readily available, you can't really believe photos much of the time. Anything - a painting, a memoir, even the recollection of a conversation you had an hour ago, is tainted with the biases of the person creating/recalling it.

Which brings us to the artwork/s. The artist obviously painted what they expect human beings to look like - complete with belly button. Shock! Horror! Now a painting has Adam and Eve with belly buttons! But they were not born of women! It's unpossible!

Well, centuries ago people thought the earth was flat and painted artwork accordingly. That doesn't make it so. I'm not arguing whether or not Adam and Eve existed, I'm simply pointing out that few things, especially paintings, can be taken as proof in this day and age.

The "proof" as demonstrated is on par with that chain emails you get saying if you send it on you'll get money from Bill Gates/good luck/win the lotto/your first child will be a masculine child. Utter rubbish and not worth forwarding and only the gullible find them believable.

I'm such a grumpy old fart sometimes.



*Yes, I'm aware it is a bit of fun as well, but it is one of those "fun" things that irritates the shit out of me.

I loved this film.

Seriously, if someone tells you you'll enjoy it, go see it. It's not necessarily a film for everyone, but for those people who are the target audience? It. Fucking. Rocks.

Directed by Nick Frost (Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, Spaced), starring Michael Cera (Arrested Development, Juno, Superbad) and based on the graphic novels, it is a semi-surreal trip down the path of Scott Pilgrim and his quest to date Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead).

If he wants to date Ramona, he has to fight her seven evil exes.



See? See how obviously awesome it is?!

Nothing I could say would do it justice. If you like the preview, you'll enjoy the film.

My favourite ex? That's toss up between Brandon Routh's Todd (he has vegan powers) and Chris Evans' Lucas Lee (movie star). You see Todd at the end of the preview above - the cleaning lady comment bought to mind Zoolander, another epic film.

See it!

NerdBoy said to me a few weeks ago, "I'm sick of avoiding spoilers and not knowing what the memes are going on about. We have to see it when I'm up there."

And so last Sunday we found ourselves heading off to see Inception.

I was both really wanting to see it yet dreading it. With all the raves ("mind-fuck" being the most common) I was concerned that it was over-hyped and wouldn't live up to my expectations.

I was right. And wrong.

It's true, it didn't exactly live up to my expectations - I didn't find it to be a mind-fuck, for example - but it was still very good.  In fact, when we walked out of the cinema I said I liked that the ending forced me to stand back and look at it as a whole; not a reaction I would normally have to a Hollywood film.

It was far from perfect - too much exposition relating to a portion of the storyline that shit me - but on the whole I really enjoyed it.

There was one scene that I loved.  It involved a hotel hallway and a fight - brilliant.

The ending ...if they wanted to make it more ambiguous, Caine should have grabbed the top. That would have been a better ending, IMO.

FX-wise, you should definitely see it in the cinema. Watching the city fold over on itself when Ariadne is working out what she can and can't do in the dream state is pretty bloody fantastic; but the cinema isn't really necessary if you're less inclined to get excited by that.

Overall, it was a good film. Not one that I would put on a list of favourites, or that I would consider an outstanding film, but it was very entertaining and left you thinking - just a tiny bit.

So. We're still in caretaker mode.

Some people seem to be freaked out at the thought of a hung parliament. The only thing that freaks me out about it is the possibility of Tony Abbott being our PM.  At least until 1 July 2011 when the Greens hold the balance of power in the Senate.

It's been very amusing, watching the goings-on over the past week. Particularly Abbott. As we all know, he had a hissy-fit at the thought of handing his costings over to Treasury before the election was held. This week he continued to refuse, even at the request of the independents who want to view the costings of both potential governments as part of their decision making process.

It was only today that Abbott gave in, making it out to be a win for the Coalition:

Opposition Leader Tony Abbott says he has agreed to submit his costings to Treasury because of assurances that his policies will be safe from "political interference".

The man is a dick. He's been behaving like a petulant child.

As has Anna Bligh.

She's flat-out refusing to acknowledge that dislike of her government was part of the backlash against the federal government. 

There is no doubt that Shorten and co's takedown of Rudd, and Bitar's election campaign are partially to blame; but Bligh seems determined to appear ignorant of Queensland's intense dislike of where she is leading the state. In the eyes of many voters, a Labor government is a Labor government, regardless of whether it is state or federal.

Added to this is the large informal vote. A huge 5.59%, or 654,473 votes. In my opinion, this isn't indicative of voter apathy or disinterest (although that is always a factor), but of frustration at the two major parties. Now, more than ever, they are so similar you can barely pass a piece of paper between their policies. It's not a choice of who will form the better government, it's merely a decision on who you dislike more. This would also explain the four Independent and one Greens MP that are now in the HoR. People voted for the true alternatives.

The hung parliament sends a clear message to both major players that the Australian people do not like what either party is offering. Hopefully it will be their wake up call.

Downfall parody vids are a pretty old meme, but this one is both funny and horribly true...

I suspect this will be me until there is a (almost certain) double dissolution election:


That is all.

This film was panned when it was released however, overall it was still pretty OK.

It didn't cause me to turn off 5 minutes in like the Sandra Bullock disaster that was All About Steve (even the eye candy of Bradley Cooper couldn't save that one); but I can understand why it didn't receive the critics' nod as a great film.

It's a hell of a lot of fun nonetheless.


I'm not giving anything away when I tell you that (the highly underrated) Paul Bettany plays Michael, a former archangel who was sent to earth to destroy a child yet to be born. It seems God is sick of human "bullshit" and this unborn child could actually save humanity if it is allowed to live; so God decides Michael is the one to ensure this does not happen.

Of course, Michael arrives (in L.A. *chortles*), chops off his wings, and heads to a diner/garage/gas station out in the middle of nowhere. The name of the diner? Paradise Falls. Oh yes, there's nothing subtle about this film.

It's at this diner, run by Bob (Denis Quaid), that we discover Charlie (Adrianne Palicki) is 8 months pregnant and readying to give her child up for adoption.

As Michael has defied God's orders, he has to head to Paradise Falls to protect Charlie from the legion that will be sent to destroy her, her baby, and anyone who stands in the way, including the now mortal Michael.

There are many references to Christianity in the film  The few I picked up on (aside from the ones previously mentioned) were plague, pestilence, the side of a building blowing out to reveal the symbol of the cross, someone dies while hanging on an inverted cross, possession ...  I'm sure there were  plenty more that in my ignorance I completely missed.

It's a horror film, you don't expect much and sit down for a fun time.  Besides, angels using swords and machine guns to wage war? That's fucking cool.

Bob: You know this is crazy, right? I mean... I don't even believe in God.
Michael: Well that's just fine, Bob. He doesn't believe in you either.