[Submitted to CHAFF and published 12th October 09]
Leah was smart, beautiful, hilarious, cheeky, warm, friendly, generous, outgoing, popular and passionate. She was also gay, and very recently she committed suicide. Her community is devastated, we miss her terribly, and we’re struggling to come to grips with what happened, searching for answers to heal our broken hearts and finding few. I suspect it will be a long time before our hearts heal.
Bernie was gentle, witty, considerate, daring, charming, fun-loving and funny. He too was gay, and he killed himself a couple of months ago. His friends are still reeling from the shock, and grieving the loss.
The lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender communities in New Zealand and around the world are disproportionately represented in suicide statistics. We are more than three times as likely to commit suicide as our heterosexual peers. We live in a world with few visible role models, we often grow up always looking over our shoulders to make sure we’re not being noticed, laughed at, jeered at and threatened. We sometimes experience complete rejection from lifelong friends and from our families when we finally try living honestly and openly as ourselves, and in some towns and rural areas we have no one to share our struggles with. And sometimes, we are the victims of horrific violent assaults.
We live in a world that tells us we’re pathetic, sick, unwanted, un-thought-of, unimportant. We hear you, Girl in the Library, when you gossip with your friends and you laugh about some guy you know, calling him a ‘fucking faggot.’ We hear you, Dude on the Bus, when you laugh with your mates, saying that [insert object of humiliation here] is ‘gaay!’ You either think we’re not there, that it doesn’t matter, or worse, that those words really do mean stupid, lame, disgusting, pathetic and worthless. You don’t go around saying ‘that’s just Maori!’ or ‘He’s such a nigger,’ cos you know that hurts people. So why do it to us? Every time you say it you tell yourself, the world around you, and maybe some lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender person who might be sitting right next to you that anyone not heterosexual isn’t worth the same human decency you extend to others.
My 10 yr old cousin Reece is gentle, clever, kind, funny and cheerful, he already knows he’s gay, and his mother tells me he comes home crying from school more often than not.
So stop it. Just fucking stop it, ok?
DR
Showing posts with label CHAFF. Show all posts
Showing posts with label CHAFF. Show all posts
Friday, October 16, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Why Danny H8s teh Gay
My gay boyfriend recently asked me, half-jokingly, how I reconcile my utter rejection of ‘gay’ identity with the fact that I’m in a relationship with him. This article won’t make me popular but I’ll give my response here anyway, as I was (lovingly) cut off when I got into it.
Where to start??
I just hate the binary model of sexuality that ‘gay’ identity reinforces. We see it everywhere, in the papers, on TV, in films and books and public debates: you’re either straight or you’re gay. And it’s not just that the mainstream isn’t aware of the alternatives, the gay media itself promotes this simplistic and offensive view. I mean, my god, Ari Benderski of Gay.com even went so far recently as to state that male bisexuality cannot exist! I’m living proof to the contrary, as are a number of my friends.
The presentation of ‘gay’ as the alternative to heterosexuality in public discourse about sexuality obscures differences within the gay community as much as it erases those non-heterosexuals who don’t use the gay label. Andrew Sullivan, a regular contributor to The Advocate magazine in the States, wrote in his highly influential book Virtually Normal that gay people are just that; that the only difference between a gay couple and a straight couple is the sex of the partners involved, and therefore that gays should be accorded the same rights as straights. Now, this call for equality is certainly admirable, but his statement glosses over the sometimes substantial differences that exist, not only between straight and gay people, but between gays.
Gay identity has been hijacked by the interests of white, middle-class men, their concerns superseding those of gay men of colour, working and lower class men, women of all varieties and those queer people who are somewhere in-between. Capitalist interests have invaded and permeated gay media, dictating tastes in everything from furniture to clothing to the physical attributes of one’s chosen partner. I guarantee you Miley and Britney aren’t throwing their weight behind gay marriage for any reason other than because they can make a fair bit of money from supporting the ‘mos.
There are decidedly fascist undertones in the gay media’s presentation of gay identity, you can argue all you want that it’s because gay men have an inherent predisposition toward ‘beauty’ but I utterly reject this – it’s ideology. Producers of luxury commodities realised a decade or so ago that gay, middle-class white men constituted a largely untapped market with proportionately greater disposable income to devote to luxuries, and they have targeted this group aggressively ever since, transforming ‘gay’ from a sexual identity into a niche consumer lifestyle. Also, the suggestion that gays have an inclination toward beauty (besides being demonstrably false – there are some pretty tasteless gay guys out there) essentially implies that what is presented in gay media is more beautiful than any alternative. And what images dominate gay media? Able-bodied, middle-class white men. An attractive man, as mandated by the gay press, looks a lot like the Aryan man idealised by the Nazis.
Politically, the gay rights movement is predicated on the assumption of a genetic basis for exclusive homosexuality, refusing to acknowledge the socially constructed aspects of sexual identity. It’s founded on the feeble apology “I was born this way, I can’t help it.” There’s SO much to take issue with here. For a start, this supplicant stance belittles the very sexuality it represents. You’re not going to get anyone to treat you as an equal if by your argument and tone you’re telling them that you’re not. Furthermore, if gay identity as we know it in the western world is encoded in genes, what are we to make of pan- and bisexuals? Are their gay genes somehow faulty? Or are there bi genes too? How about S&M genes? (See where this is going?). Gay ideologues refuse to acknowledge that it is in fact possible to be ‘post’ or ‘ex’ gay, ironic really, they get pretty angry when other people are telling them what their own sexuality is, yet they cast blanket aspersions about the sexualities of others. Consider also that the studies that ‘confirm’ a genetic basis for homosexuality completely ignore lesbianism, and what you have is not scientific study but the furthering of a political agenda.
To secure for themselves the privileges accorded to heterosexuals gay advocates have ignored the evidence of alternative trans- and homosexualities of other cultures, and rewritten the same-gender relationships of history in support of their claims. Close, platonic male-male friendships such as that of the Bible’s David and Jonathan and that of Achilles and Patroclus from classical Greek literature are ret-conned as gay relationships, and this aggressive piracy of heterosexual male role-models discourages these kind of ennobling friendships between straight men, arguably causing much of the dysfunction in many contemporary male-male and male-female relationships**.
The part that really fucks me off is that the public endorsement of the binary sexual model secures rights and recognition for the most politically and economically powerful group in the queer community, who then abandon all those that mainstream society deems less acceptable, most notably the transgendered and intersexed, and to a lesser extent the bisexual and asexual. The gay rights movement and media give lip-service to diversity while it is politically expedient for them to do so until it is not, and then they simply erase us from the debate. Gay rights activists tend to forget that recognition of their rights was first won at Stonewall, not by themselves, but by the transgender community.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m not saying I don’t like gay people, and I’m not saying that identifying as gay is inherently bad. By all means, use the word if you feel it best represents your sexuality, but be aware that it is loaded with ideology and its use has very real implications for those queer people who don’t so easily fit into the binary model of sexuality. If you’re going to be gay, be a good gay, own it, be proud of it, and don’t be manipulated by the-powers-that-be. Make it yours. Most importantly, don’t forget to look out for your queer brothers and sisters, ‘cos you sure as hell didn’t win your rights by yourself.
DannyR
Where to start??
I just hate the binary model of sexuality that ‘gay’ identity reinforces. We see it everywhere, in the papers, on TV, in films and books and public debates: you’re either straight or you’re gay. And it’s not just that the mainstream isn’t aware of the alternatives, the gay media itself promotes this simplistic and offensive view. I mean, my god, Ari Benderski of Gay.com even went so far recently as to state that male bisexuality cannot exist! I’m living proof to the contrary, as are a number of my friends.
The presentation of ‘gay’ as the alternative to heterosexuality in public discourse about sexuality obscures differences within the gay community as much as it erases those non-heterosexuals who don’t use the gay label. Andrew Sullivan, a regular contributor to The Advocate magazine in the States, wrote in his highly influential book Virtually Normal that gay people are just that; that the only difference between a gay couple and a straight couple is the sex of the partners involved, and therefore that gays should be accorded the same rights as straights. Now, this call for equality is certainly admirable, but his statement glosses over the sometimes substantial differences that exist, not only between straight and gay people, but between gays.
Gay identity has been hijacked by the interests of white, middle-class men, their concerns superseding those of gay men of colour, working and lower class men, women of all varieties and those queer people who are somewhere in-between. Capitalist interests have invaded and permeated gay media, dictating tastes in everything from furniture to clothing to the physical attributes of one’s chosen partner. I guarantee you Miley and Britney aren’t throwing their weight behind gay marriage for any reason other than because they can make a fair bit of money from supporting the ‘mos.
There are decidedly fascist undertones in the gay media’s presentation of gay identity, you can argue all you want that it’s because gay men have an inherent predisposition toward ‘beauty’ but I utterly reject this – it’s ideology. Producers of luxury commodities realised a decade or so ago that gay, middle-class white men constituted a largely untapped market with proportionately greater disposable income to devote to luxuries, and they have targeted this group aggressively ever since, transforming ‘gay’ from a sexual identity into a niche consumer lifestyle. Also, the suggestion that gays have an inclination toward beauty (besides being demonstrably false – there are some pretty tasteless gay guys out there) essentially implies that what is presented in gay media is more beautiful than any alternative. And what images dominate gay media? Able-bodied, middle-class white men. An attractive man, as mandated by the gay press, looks a lot like the Aryan man idealised by the Nazis.
Politically, the gay rights movement is predicated on the assumption of a genetic basis for exclusive homosexuality, refusing to acknowledge the socially constructed aspects of sexual identity. It’s founded on the feeble apology “I was born this way, I can’t help it.” There’s SO much to take issue with here. For a start, this supplicant stance belittles the very sexuality it represents. You’re not going to get anyone to treat you as an equal if by your argument and tone you’re telling them that you’re not. Furthermore, if gay identity as we know it in the western world is encoded in genes, what are we to make of pan- and bisexuals? Are their gay genes somehow faulty? Or are there bi genes too? How about S&M genes? (See where this is going?). Gay ideologues refuse to acknowledge that it is in fact possible to be ‘post’ or ‘ex’ gay, ironic really, they get pretty angry when other people are telling them what their own sexuality is, yet they cast blanket aspersions about the sexualities of others. Consider also that the studies that ‘confirm’ a genetic basis for homosexuality completely ignore lesbianism, and what you have is not scientific study but the furthering of a political agenda.
To secure for themselves the privileges accorded to heterosexuals gay advocates have ignored the evidence of alternative trans- and homosexualities of other cultures, and rewritten the same-gender relationships of history in support of their claims. Close, platonic male-male friendships such as that of the Bible’s David and Jonathan and that of Achilles and Patroclus from classical Greek literature are ret-conned as gay relationships, and this aggressive piracy of heterosexual male role-models discourages these kind of ennobling friendships between straight men, arguably causing much of the dysfunction in many contemporary male-male and male-female relationships**.
The part that really fucks me off is that the public endorsement of the binary sexual model secures rights and recognition for the most politically and economically powerful group in the queer community, who then abandon all those that mainstream society deems less acceptable, most notably the transgendered and intersexed, and to a lesser extent the bisexual and asexual. The gay rights movement and media give lip-service to diversity while it is politically expedient for them to do so until it is not, and then they simply erase us from the debate. Gay rights activists tend to forget that recognition of their rights was first won at Stonewall, not by themselves, but by the transgender community.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m not saying I don’t like gay people, and I’m not saying that identifying as gay is inherently bad. By all means, use the word if you feel it best represents your sexuality, but be aware that it is loaded with ideology and its use has very real implications for those queer people who don’t so easily fit into the binary model of sexuality. If you’re going to be gay, be a good gay, own it, be proud of it, and don’t be manipulated by the-powers-that-be. Make it yours. Most importantly, don’t forget to look out for your queer brothers and sisters, ‘cos you sure as hell didn’t win your rights by yourself.
DannyR
Star Trek: Boldly Going... Somewhere Else?
Directed by J.J. Abrams, Starring Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto, Zoe Saldana, Eric Bana, Leonard Nimoy, Karl Urban, Simon Pegg, Anton Yelchin & John Cho
Grade C.
SPOILERS BELOW!!
Bright, shiny, fast, loud and contrived: this is Star Trek for people who’ve never watched Star Trek. It’s the kind of bland Hollywood summer blockbuster that we’re seeing so much of these days, and you just know it’s gonna be popular.
If you’re a long-term fan, your reaction to this movie will fall somewhere between disappointment and outrage. I’m not going to get into how the plot casually erases the entire history of the galaxy as established by 40 years of previous Trek films and TV series, and I’m not going to whinge about the often staggering coincidences and plot holes that abound throughout. I want to talk about characterisation, atmosphere, ambiance. Now sure, I’m biased, but I’d like to point out that I went with a friend who’s never been interested in Star Trek, and he said the movie just failed to make him care about any of the characters or the story. So I’m not alone here.
Chris Pine as Captain James T. Kirk was perhaps the biggest disappointment. He was a poor choice for the role, his face is babyish rather than classically handsome and he lacks the arrogant, brooding presence that William Shatner brought to the character. What the film-makers really failed to grasp is that the original Star Trek was about a swaggering, macho ladies’ man and his sweet ride, a guy who cruises into town, starts a brawl, saves the day and rides of into the sunset, leaving a trail of broken hearts behind him. Compared to Shatner’s Kirk, Pine’s character is something of a joke.
And what of said sweet ride? The Enterprise was attractive, despite my initial misgivings about the changes to its iconic design, but it certainly didn’t inspire the sense of awe that previous incarnations have. We’re supposed to be blown away by this ship, it’s supposed to be the most advanced and powerful vessel in the galaxy, but it’s onscreen for perhaps two minutes in total in the entire film. Maybe the film-makers cut its scenes, given the violent fan reactions to leaked pictures of the design over the past year. They certainly didn’t give the new ship the loving, slow reveal that past films have lavished on it. In fact in terms of action and on-screen presence, it was completely displaced by another little craft.
Another essential ingredient of Trek has always been the relationship between Kirk and first officer Spock. The film-makers did make a decent attempt to capture this dynamic, but just didn’t quite get it right. It feels forced, like they’re trying to recreate the chemistry of the original characters without going through any sort of process to make it happen. One minute Kirk and Spock hate each other, the next they’re best friends. Zachary Quinto certainly looked the part as Spock, but had none of the dignity and solemnity of Leonard Nimoy’s portrayal of the character. This is especially obvious as Nimoy is actually in the movie as well, playing an older Spock.
Eric Bana as vengeful Romulan Nero was intimidating to look at, but oddly soft-spoken, and I have to say he has possibly the most ridiculous motivation for causing mayhem I've ever come across in Star Trek. His home planet Romulus and everyone on it is about to be wiped out by a supernova, distant cousins the Vulcans try to help save the planet by creating a black hole to divert the solar flare and in the process destroy the very planet they're trying to save, and accidentally send Nero and his cronies two hundred years back in time. Nero arrives in the earlier era, and rather than go and see the planet he thought he'd lost forever, and perhaps become the hero of his people, he goes on a vendetta against the Federation (who, as enemies of the Romulan Empire, were under no obligation to save Romulus but tried anyway), planning to blow up the Feds one planet at a time, beginning with Vulcan and then moving on to Earth, naturally. The whole thing is just a convoluted way for writers and producers to press the 'reset' button and start fresh with only the bits of Trek they want to retain, consigning the rest to the interstellar dustbin.
What of the supporting cast? I can't deny Simon Pegg as Scotty was great fun but he was largely absent from the film (arriving fully halfway through in another ludicrous coincidence) and didn’t do anything much to save the day, as he used to in the original TV series and the movies based on it. He was basically reduced to comic relief status, though perhaps that’s to be expected, given Pegg’s previous films. John Cho as Hikaru Sulu was pretty kick-ass, and did seem to have some of the fire that the original actor brought to the role, but I couldn't quite accept him in the part, he just looks so different. Still, I expect he will continue to be sheer awesome in future films, cos I can guarantee there's at least two in the works even now.
Anton Yelchin playing young math-genius Chekov was funny, but I rather take issue with how the film-makers took what is essentially a supporting role and greatly expanded it, arguably at the expense of Uhura’s place in the ensemble, leaving her with nothing to do but look pretty and kiss Spock a couple of times (no real change there then). This was particularly disappointing, as a great deal was made of her talents and achievements in the early part of the film, and then the film utterly fails to build on these. NZ's own Karl Urban as Dr ‘Bones’ McCoy was the standout performer, he alone seemed to have really captured the essence of the original character.
Stylistically, this take on one of SciFi’s oldest and most loved franchises owes a lot to the resurrected Battlestar Galactica TV series, there’s a lot of shaky hand-held camera work and a real military feel to the character interactions interspersed with short, silent space shots. Maybe this has something to do with my feeling as I sat there that this isn’t Star Trek – past Trek films have revelled in elaborate space battles replete with the clamouring of titanic explosions and pounding drums. The film-makers have incorporated a lot of those recognisable little details from the original series – gun and uniform designs and colours, tinny sound effects – which bring on nerdgasms among the faithful, and there are plenty of little in-jokes, but the total effect is of pastiche or parody rather than a genuine continuation of the franchise. I think it’s telling that Galaxy Quest, an actual parody, feels more like Star Trek than this new film does.
This movie will undoubtedly draw a new generation of fans to the Star Trek universe, and perhaps rekindle enthusiasm for past incarnations of the show, but I can’t help feeling that the future of the franchise will be a lot less rich, a lot more formulaic and more reliant on cheap thrills and jokes than on decent storytelling and characterisation.
DannyR
This movie will undoubtedly draw a new generation of fans to the Star Trek universe, and perhaps rekindle enthusiasm for past incarnations of the show, but I can’t help feeling that the future of the franchise will be a lot less rich, a lot more formulaic and more reliant on cheap thrills and jokes than on decent storytelling and characterisation.
DannyR
Monday, March 30, 2009
Who's the Queerest Of Them All? -- Deviant, Chaff 7 2009
It used to be that lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and intersex people only made it into TV shows as freaks and perverts. We were stuck in the hell that is daytime and late-night talk-shows like Ricki Lake and Jerry Springer, put on display as immoral deviants, predators, home-wreckers. In other programming we were invisible except to be pitied, feared or laughed at. But something’s changed, these days you can’t turn on the TV without seeing a couple of token Queers (unless you’re a Star Trek fan – 40 years homo-free and counting!!). It’s even made it into Coronation Street. My god, my mum is avidly watching gay romance on The Street. But it’s not always a good thing. Just how are we being portrayed, and by which shows?? Of course I can’t cover everything here, but even a brief survey is revealing.
We do pretty well in comedy. Perhaps the best illustration of this new mainstream acceptance of gays and lesbians is the rising star of Ellen Degeneres. She made history with her show Ellen, when her character (and she herself in real-life) came out. Of course the show was axed not long after but she’s back with a talk-show that rivals Oprah in popularity, and she was even chosen to host the 79th Academy Awards in 2007. Seems everyone loves Ellen now. And let’s not forget Will & Grace, the first show in history to have a gay male lead. The show was popular from the outset, though probably more for stereotypically flamboyant and bitchy supporting characters Jack and Karen than for the title characters. It’s like the mainstream likes us best when we’re not just gay, but really gay. Will was played by a straight guy, too. Still, a big step towards equality.
AfterElton.com recently named Scrubs the “gayest show on television,” but I have to disagree, it doesn’t have any lesbian or gay characters, just the sexually ambiguous ‘The Todd’ and the ‘bromance’ between straight male leads Turk and JD. In my mind, Scrubs is outshone by the much gayer Ugly Betty, which has hot trannie chick Alex in one of the main emotional story-arcs, as well as Betty’s camp little nephew Justin, and the hilariously bitchy, obviously gay Marc. Then there’s The Sarah Silverman Program, featuring lazy, scruffy Brian and Steve, two sloppy, overweight Ginga stoners who sit at home playing computer games all day, showing that not all gays are prissy queens, that we can be just as ordinary and slovenly as anyone else.
Family Guy often shows main character Peter as a bit camp, and occasionally hints that evil baby Stewie is gay, but it’s all for giggles and neither is actually a homo according to show creators, so it’s another one where there’s no regular Queer character. The Simpsons is (a bit) better: closet homo Waylon Smithers has been a firm fixture in the cast from the show’s earliest days, Marge’s sister Patty came out as a lesbian and married her girlfriend, and the show once devoted an entire episode to the stupidity of ‘Homer’s Phobia’ toward obviously gay John (winning the show an Emmy), but after that episode John was never seen again.
I would argue that South Park is actually more gay-friendly than The Simpsons and Family Guy, despite its frequent use of the words ‘gay’ and ‘faggot’ as insults. Sure, it’s over-the-top, obnoxious and crude, but South Park is like that to everyone and everything, it’s an equal-opportunity mud-slinger, so it’s actually a more inclusive show than most. And it’s jam-packed with Queers. Cartman’s mother is a hermaphrodite. Saddam Hussein and Satan are lovers. Big Gay Al and Mister Slave get married, and the boys’ teacher Mr. Garrison becomes Ms. Garrison, experiments with lesbianism and switches back to being a man. Butters is sent to Bi-Curious camp to be ‘cured,’ and ends up showing that obsessing over other people’s sexuality actually causes them more confusion and harm than just leaving them alone. South Park rocks.
And of course British comedy has always been full of gay jokes, in fact I can’t think
of a single exception. Probably the gayest of the lot is Little Britain, for a start most of the women are actually men in drag, then there’s Daffyd, the ‘Only Gay In The Village,’ the Prime Minister’s love-sick aide Sebastian, a bickering divorced couple who are actually both gay, closet-homo and Minister of Parliament Norman Fry, and ‘Emily,’ she of the Victorian frocks and constant protests of “I’m a Lady!” All ridiculously stereotypical, but the show’s success has put Queer people firmly in the limelight.
So comedy’s crowded with Queers. Turning to action and sci-fi, though, we find a very different story. If you look at big syndicated shows like Lost, 24, Heroes, Stargate, and the like, you’ll find that LGBT people are either completely absent/invisible or, overwhelmingly, weak and/or evil. Take Lost. Here’s a show with a huge cast that ticks practically every demographic box, and yet there is not one gay, lesbian, transgendered or bisexual character. Or how about 24, where homosexuality either gets you killed or directly results in the U.S. being attacked by terrorists? In fact the only exception I can think of here is Doctor Who spin-off Torchwood, which has bisexual protagonist Captain Jack and pretty much everyone on the show snogging or screwing someone of the same gender at one point or another.
We do (somewhat) better in drama, in at least being visible. ER had a number of lesbian stories over the years but to no one’s great surprise they involved little actual romance or sexuality, and when they did it always ended in bitter disappointments and loneliness. Six Feet Under and Brothers and Sisters also feature gay people and their romantic and sexual lives but again these are shown to be dysfunctional and basically unfulfilling. Similarly, British soaps like Emmerdale and EastEnders have had gay characters for years, but of course they’re always miserable or shocking stories, because in drama and soap-land, no one gets to be happy for long. It’s kind of the whole point. For example, Coronation Street made young Todd’s homosexuality directly responsible for his girlfriend’s miscarriage. Coro’s kind of made up for it though with the first transsexual character in a British soap, Hayley, who is one of the show’s more likeable characters, and now uber-gay Sean, a regular character with a hunky boyfriend. So not all bad there.
Our own Shortland Street has featured gay characters and storylines since it’s beginning, but I’m sorry to say it hasn’t exactly painted a rosy picture. Gay males are inevitably screwed up and go out of their way to hurt people or are killed off pretty quickly. The girls don’t fare much better – they last longer, but it seems they always end up murdering somebody. And where are the transsexuals, the fa’afafine and takataapui people? Still, we do have Gerald, Shorty’s femmy asexual receptionist, and writers did make a brief attempt to play out the implications of this identity for his life and relationships. They could probably try harder though.
It’s nice to see more Queer people on the Telly, but it’s be nice to see more of them in serious lead roles that address their issues without getting too morbid, or that show them defeating the bad guy instead of being the bad guy. I guess for now I’ll just have to stick to animated shorts like Rick and Steve: The Happiest Gay Couple In The World, or watch Queer as Folk on dvd over and over. Or I could take up watching Coro with my mum.
DannyR
We do pretty well in comedy. Perhaps the best illustration of this new mainstream acceptance of gays and lesbians is the rising star of Ellen Degeneres. She made history with her show Ellen, when her character (and she herself in real-life) came out. Of course the show was axed not long after but she’s back with a talk-show that rivals Oprah in popularity, and she was even chosen to host the 79th Academy Awards in 2007. Seems everyone loves Ellen now. And let’s not forget Will & Grace, the first show in history to have a gay male lead. The show was popular from the outset, though probably more for stereotypically flamboyant and bitchy supporting characters Jack and Karen than for the title characters. It’s like the mainstream likes us best when we’re not just gay, but really gay. Will was played by a straight guy, too. Still, a big step towards equality.
AfterElton.com recently named Scrubs the “gayest show on television,” but I have to disagree, it doesn’t have any lesbian or gay characters, just the sexually ambiguous ‘The Todd’ and the ‘bromance’ between straight male leads Turk and JD. In my mind, Scrubs is outshone by the much gayer Ugly Betty, which has hot trannie chick Alex in one of the main emotional story-arcs, as well as Betty’s camp little nephew Justin, and the hilariously bitchy, obviously gay Marc. Then there’s The Sarah Silverman Program, featuring lazy, scruffy Brian and Steve, two sloppy, overweight Ginga stoners who sit at home playing computer games all day, showing that not all gays are prissy queens, that we can be just as ordinary and slovenly as anyone else.
Family Guy often shows main character Peter as a bit camp, and occasionally hints that evil baby Stewie is gay, but it’s all for giggles and neither is actually a homo according to show creators, so it’s another one where there’s no regular Queer character. The Simpsons is (a bit) better: closet homo Waylon Smithers has been a firm fixture in the cast from the show’s earliest days, Marge’s sister Patty came out as a lesbian and married her girlfriend, and the show once devoted an entire episode to the stupidity of ‘Homer’s Phobia’ toward obviously gay John (winning the show an Emmy), but after that episode John was never seen again.
I would argue that South Park is actually more gay-friendly than The Simpsons and Family Guy, despite its frequent use of the words ‘gay’ and ‘faggot’ as insults. Sure, it’s over-the-top, obnoxious and crude, but South Park is like that to everyone and everything, it’s an equal-opportunity mud-slinger, so it’s actually a more inclusive show than most. And it’s jam-packed with Queers. Cartman’s mother is a hermaphrodite. Saddam Hussein and Satan are lovers. Big Gay Al and Mister Slave get married, and the boys’ teacher Mr. Garrison becomes Ms. Garrison, experiments with lesbianism and switches back to being a man. Butters is sent to Bi-Curious camp to be ‘cured,’ and ends up showing that obsessing over other people’s sexuality actually causes them more confusion and harm than just leaving them alone. South Park rocks.
And of course British comedy has always been full of gay jokes, in fact I can’t think
of a single exception. Probably the gayest of the lot is Little Britain, for a start most of the women are actually men in drag, then there’s Daffyd, the ‘Only Gay In The Village,’ the Prime Minister’s love-sick aide Sebastian, a bickering divorced couple who are actually both gay, closet-homo and Minister of Parliament Norman Fry, and ‘Emily,’ she of the Victorian frocks and constant protests of “I’m a Lady!” All ridiculously stereotypical, but the show’s success has put Queer people firmly in the limelight.
So comedy’s crowded with Queers. Turning to action and sci-fi, though, we find a very different story. If you look at big syndicated shows like Lost, 24, Heroes, Stargate, and the like, you’ll find that LGBT people are either completely absent/invisible or, overwhelmingly, weak and/or evil. Take Lost. Here’s a show with a huge cast that ticks practically every demographic box, and yet there is not one gay, lesbian, transgendered or bisexual character. Or how about 24, where homosexuality either gets you killed or directly results in the U.S. being attacked by terrorists? In fact the only exception I can think of here is Doctor Who spin-off Torchwood, which has bisexual protagonist Captain Jack and pretty much everyone on the show snogging or screwing someone of the same gender at one point or another.
We do (somewhat) better in drama, in at least being visible. ER had a number of lesbian stories over the years but to no one’s great surprise they involved little actual romance or sexuality, and when they did it always ended in bitter disappointments and loneliness. Six Feet Under and Brothers and Sisters also feature gay people and their romantic and sexual lives but again these are shown to be dysfunctional and basically unfulfilling. Similarly, British soaps like Emmerdale and EastEnders have had gay characters for years, but of course they’re always miserable or shocking stories, because in drama and soap-land, no one gets to be happy for long. It’s kind of the whole point. For example, Coronation Street made young Todd’s homosexuality directly responsible for his girlfriend’s miscarriage. Coro’s kind of made up for it though with the first transsexual character in a British soap, Hayley, who is one of the show’s more likeable characters, and now uber-gay Sean, a regular character with a hunky boyfriend. So not all bad there.
Our own Shortland Street has featured gay characters and storylines since it’s beginning, but I’m sorry to say it hasn’t exactly painted a rosy picture. Gay males are inevitably screwed up and go out of their way to hurt people or are killed off pretty quickly. The girls don’t fare much better – they last longer, but it seems they always end up murdering somebody. And where are the transsexuals, the fa’afafine and takataapui people? Still, we do have Gerald, Shorty’s femmy asexual receptionist, and writers did make a brief attempt to play out the implications of this identity for his life and relationships. They could probably try harder though.
It’s nice to see more Queer people on the Telly, but it’s be nice to see more of them in serious lead roles that address their issues without getting too morbid, or that show them defeating the bad guy instead of being the bad guy. I guess for now I’ll just have to stick to animated shorts like Rick and Steve: The Happiest Gay Couple In The World, or watch Queer as Folk on dvd over and over. Or I could take up watching Coro with my mum.
DannyR
Monday, March 23, 2009
Assume Nothing -- Deviant 5, CHAFF, 2009
Last year I had the privilege of attending the Human Rights Commission’s transgender exhibition and seminars at The New Dowse gallery in Lower Hutt. The exhibition is built around Rebecca Swan’s groundbreaking Assume Nothing, a beautiful photographic book that focuses on Kiwi transgender, intersex, transvestite, fa’afafine and takataapui people. Her work is innovative and daring, but shows a real sensitivity to and respect for the issues faced by trans-folk in Aotearoa. I was deeply, deeply moved by her work, and the workshops and seminars were fantastic.
Some of the photographs are in traditional portrait style, but there’s a lot of variety. Swan sometimes splits a portrait down the middle to show a transvestite person in both male and female garb or makeup, other times she uses a series of individual shots to show a drag artist’s progression from one persona to another. There are tasteful nude photographs, which answer all those awkward questions a lot of us have about what an intersex person’s plumbing looks like, but still convey the sense of the individual as a whole person rather than just an ensemble of genital bits and pieces, a medical oddity or freak. Some of the works are in black and white, others in bold colour. The real beauty of the collection is that Swan’s photography shows trans-folk as strong human beings with unique life histories and perspectives, real people with individual stories and experiences.
The seminars are an opportunity for the public to interact with some of the people who have put themselves forward in Swan’s work, to hear about their struggles and triumphs first-hand, to learn more about how our society has discriminated against transgender people in the past, how it continues to do so now, and how we’re changing that. I met some really inspiring people from all sorts of different backgrounds, and got answers to some of the questions I’d always had but had been too embarrassed to ask. Ultimately, I came away with a deep admiration and respect for some incredible people, people brave enough to be who they truly are in the face of scorn and rejection from their families, friends and society at large.
The great news is that both the exhibition and the workshops held by the HRC are coming to Palmerston North this year, Te Manawa is hosting the exhibition from the 28th of February until the 7th of June, and the workshops will be held on the 14th, 18th and 19th of March. You don’t have to identify as trans to benefit from these workshops, either. I really recommend you get yourselves along if you can – they’re informative and fun, and you’ll learn a whole lot, I guarantee it.
DannyR
(This piece was accompanied by a brief summary of some Do's and Don't's from another person's work, below)
Trans Etiquette 101
Micah Bazant, TimTum: A Trans Jew Zine
DON’T freak out if you don’t recognise someone’s gender or age, or get it wrong. Apologise (once is enough), and make sure you get it right next time.
DON’T interrogate them about their trans status.
DON’T assume you have the right to any medical or anatomical information about their body or genitals, it’s none of your friggin’ business unless they decide to share that with you.
DON’T EVER share the information that someone you know is trans or intersex, it can be humiliating or even dangerous for that person if you do so. A lot of trans people just want to get on with their lives without people knowing, and besides, ‘Outing’ someone for anything is a pretty shitty thing to do – they have the right to do it themselves if they choose to.
DON’T ask what their given, or ‘real’ name was. This is extremely rude.
DON’T assume you know the details of their transition, they may not be transitioning at all, or might choose to have some operations and not others. Again, none of your business.
DON’T ask if they’re sure about it, or remind them that it’s permanent or anything like that. Most trans people have already done a lot of soul-searching to get to where they are.
DON’T make this all about you, it might feel weird, maybe you’ve never had a trans friend or whatever, but however uncomfortable you’re feeling rest assured living as a trans person is a million times harder.
DO use the names and personal pronouns they prefer.
DO ask if you're not sure how someone prefers to be addressed.
DO take them at face value, let them be who they are now. Leave the past and the future alone.
DO listen if your trans friend has something they want to share about their experiences with you – it’s an enormous privilege, and needs to be respected.
DO educate yourself about trans life, watch films (TransAmerica and Boys Don’t Cry are both fantastic), read books, watch TV shows (Ugly Betty is pretty good), look it up on the net (try http://www.agender.org.nz/ ) – there are plenty of great resources out there, it’ll help you put yourself in your trans friend’s shoes.
And most importantly,
DO treat each trans person as an individual – we’re all unique and not one of us is the same as anyone else.
Some of the photographs are in traditional portrait style, but there’s a lot of variety. Swan sometimes splits a portrait down the middle to show a transvestite person in both male and female garb or makeup, other times she uses a series of individual shots to show a drag artist’s progression from one persona to another. There are tasteful nude photographs, which answer all those awkward questions a lot of us have about what an intersex person’s plumbing looks like, but still convey the sense of the individual as a whole person rather than just an ensemble of genital bits and pieces, a medical oddity or freak. Some of the works are in black and white, others in bold colour. The real beauty of the collection is that Swan’s photography shows trans-folk as strong human beings with unique life histories and perspectives, real people with individual stories and experiences.
The seminars are an opportunity for the public to interact with some of the people who have put themselves forward in Swan’s work, to hear about their struggles and triumphs first-hand, to learn more about how our society has discriminated against transgender people in the past, how it continues to do so now, and how we’re changing that. I met some really inspiring people from all sorts of different backgrounds, and got answers to some of the questions I’d always had but had been too embarrassed to ask. Ultimately, I came away with a deep admiration and respect for some incredible people, people brave enough to be who they truly are in the face of scorn and rejection from their families, friends and society at large.
The great news is that both the exhibition and the workshops held by the HRC are coming to Palmerston North this year, Te Manawa is hosting the exhibition from the 28th of February until the 7th of June, and the workshops will be held on the 14th, 18th and 19th of March. You don’t have to identify as trans to benefit from these workshops, either. I really recommend you get yourselves along if you can – they’re informative and fun, and you’ll learn a whole lot, I guarantee it.
DannyR
(This piece was accompanied by a brief summary of some Do's and Don't's from another person's work, below)
Trans Etiquette 101
Micah Bazant, TimTum: A Trans Jew Zine
DON’T freak out if you don’t recognise someone’s gender or age, or get it wrong. Apologise (once is enough), and make sure you get it right next time.
DON’T interrogate them about their trans status.
DON’T assume you have the right to any medical or anatomical information about their body or genitals, it’s none of your friggin’ business unless they decide to share that with you.
DON’T EVER share the information that someone you know is trans or intersex, it can be humiliating or even dangerous for that person if you do so. A lot of trans people just want to get on with their lives without people knowing, and besides, ‘Outing’ someone for anything is a pretty shitty thing to do – they have the right to do it themselves if they choose to.
DON’T ask what their given, or ‘real’ name was. This is extremely rude.
DON’T assume you know the details of their transition, they may not be transitioning at all, or might choose to have some operations and not others. Again, none of your business.
DON’T ask if they’re sure about it, or remind them that it’s permanent or anything like that. Most trans people have already done a lot of soul-searching to get to where they are.
DON’T make this all about you, it might feel weird, maybe you’ve never had a trans friend or whatever, but however uncomfortable you’re feeling rest assured living as a trans person is a million times harder.
DO use the names and personal pronouns they prefer.
DO ask if you're not sure how someone prefers to be addressed.
DO take them at face value, let them be who they are now. Leave the past and the future alone.
DO listen if your trans friend has something they want to share about their experiences with you – it’s an enormous privilege, and needs to be respected.
DO educate yourself about trans life, watch films (TransAmerica and Boys Don’t Cry are both fantastic), read books, watch TV shows (Ugly Betty is pretty good), look it up on the net (try http://www.agender.org.nz/ ) – there are plenty of great resources out there, it’ll help you put yourself in your trans friend’s shoes.
And most importantly,
DO treat each trans person as an individual – we’re all unique and not one of us is the same as anyone else.
Monday, March 2, 2009
GRRR!!!!!! -- CHAFF 2 2009
What gets me, I mean, what really gets me, is the arrogance.
I had trouble with my enrolment for Semester One this year, enough to cause me to lose sleep and have homicidal thoughts about the various administrative staff with whom I came into contact in the process. The story goes that due to illness combined with some distressing family circumstances I had to withdraw from my papers in the second semester last year, and the university granted me fee exemption and automatic re-enrolment due to the unforeseen and exceptional nature of the situation. I went to StudyLink and told them what was going on, and provided the documentation they asked for, which included letters between my doctor, a counsellor on campus, the university and myself. The agreed course of action was that I would take a break and get better, enrol in a Summer School paper to keep my hand in, and continue with full time study as of the first semester this year.
So I enrolled for Summer School, having sorted out most of what I needed to sort out to get myself well. I started going for regular doctor’s and counselling appointments (by the way, the Student Counselling services here are really good – I recommend it if you find yourself floundering or stressed out). I sat my ass down and got reading, I was disciplined and diligent, I really applied myself and got the work done, handed in my assignments. It was all good.
Then I find out – at the end of the semester no less – that my access to Library services has been cut off, a bugger if you have no internet access at home. I go to Registry to ask what’s up, and I am informed ( in what I can only describe as a curt manner) that because my Summer School fees hadn’t been paid my results for my work over summer would be withheld, and that my enrolment for the First Semester wasn’t going to be processed.
I thought this had been cleared up months ago. Luckily the Summer School paper I had chosen was entirely internally assessed so I didn’t have to worry about not being able to sit an exam, but I’m pretty pissed at this point because I had made sure I’d gone and done all the paperwork before I even started Summer School, and had received assurances that I had the green light. So I ring StudyLink and ask what the Capital F is going on, and am told that the problem is because they had thought my withdrawing from Semester Two the previous semester meant I was done with university study.
I then had to run around getting the various correspondences to provide to StudyLink again because they claim to have no record of them, and then talk to the university explaining the situation. The university then rings StudyLink for verification, StudyLink acknowledges the fault and says they’ll fix it up, and I’m promised that it should all be cleared up in three working days.
I was pretty stressed by this point, I was having what I think are quite justifiable fears (given the lack of communication) that I would not be enrolled in time and that my allowance would be cut off unexpectedly while studying, and so on my next counselling appointment I told the sordid tale and my counsellor went off to make a phone call, I guess to see what the story actually was and come back with assurances that would put my mind at rest.
Well he came back, but the news wasn’t good. Even after the university contacting StudyLink directly to see why the Student Loan payment for my Summer School fees hadn’t gone through, even after StudyLink had acknowledged they’d fucked up and promised to rectify the situation, nothing further had been done. I was still in limbo. But after a bit of further harassment by my counsellor and the university, the resolutions were actioned and it all went into processing, which I was told would take about three days or a week. Again.
The part that really, REALLY gets to me is the aforementioned arrogance. Everyone I spoke to in this administrative process -- from both the university and StudyLink -- treated me like I was causing them hassles they didn’t need, like I was just a complication, like it was my fault that things hadn’t gone smoothly, when the truth of the matter is that it was poor communication between the two organisations and staff at StudyLink failing to follow through on procedures that was really to blame. The admin staff at both just go with the assumption that the student is in the wrong, and it’s both insulting and unfair. I went through all the hassle of consulting with the university and StudyLink when I made the decision to withdraw last year, I provided all the required documentation and got their advice and information about what I could expect, and yet it would have gone more smoothly and caused me less anxiety in an already trying situation if I had simply failed the papers for which I was enrolled, given my good academic record. I should point out that I’m not alone in my anger and frustration, it seems a number of my friends have experienced similar attitudes from staff and had similar complications, even without the medical dramas.
Why all this confusion? Why is documentation going missing, why are StudyLink decisions being suddenly reversed, why aren’t agreed resolutions being followed through? I attribute it to what I see as two serious failings in the way StudyLink operates. The first is that students are largely excluded from the actual decision making process. When calls were going back and forth between the university and StudyLink, though I was physically in the room I was shut out of the conversation, it was all jargon and acronyms, with no explanation offered to me of what any of it meant, in fact no questions or comments directed to me at all. It was bloody confusing, is what it was, and then I was pretty much shunted from the office without any clarification. I had to actually go and make further enquiries at reception just to find out what the hell had just happened.
The second problem that I see is that StudyLink doesn’t actually assign case-managers, and so you end up talking to several different people, none of whom consult with each other or go higher up the chain when they’re not sure of what to do in a particular situation. Person A says the appropriate action is such and such, and then Person B, not knowing why person A did that, simply says ‘Oh well, that wasn’t the correct action to take, we’ll have to change it,’ and so on. Decisions are overturned because the people making the initial decision aren’t familiar with the case history or sure what to do and so they guess. A few minutes consultation or even rescheduling the appointment with the client to sort out exactly what the current standing of their application is would be adequate, and having particular staff assigned to particular cases would make this a lot easier. It would certainly mean friendlier service.
DannyR
I had trouble with my enrolment for Semester One this year, enough to cause me to lose sleep and have homicidal thoughts about the various administrative staff with whom I came into contact in the process. The story goes that due to illness combined with some distressing family circumstances I had to withdraw from my papers in the second semester last year, and the university granted me fee exemption and automatic re-enrolment due to the unforeseen and exceptional nature of the situation. I went to StudyLink and told them what was going on, and provided the documentation they asked for, which included letters between my doctor, a counsellor on campus, the university and myself. The agreed course of action was that I would take a break and get better, enrol in a Summer School paper to keep my hand in, and continue with full time study as of the first semester this year.
So I enrolled for Summer School, having sorted out most of what I needed to sort out to get myself well. I started going for regular doctor’s and counselling appointments (by the way, the Student Counselling services here are really good – I recommend it if you find yourself floundering or stressed out). I sat my ass down and got reading, I was disciplined and diligent, I really applied myself and got the work done, handed in my assignments. It was all good.
Then I find out – at the end of the semester no less – that my access to Library services has been cut off, a bugger if you have no internet access at home. I go to Registry to ask what’s up, and I am informed ( in what I can only describe as a curt manner) that because my Summer School fees hadn’t been paid my results for my work over summer would be withheld, and that my enrolment for the First Semester wasn’t going to be processed.
I thought this had been cleared up months ago. Luckily the Summer School paper I had chosen was entirely internally assessed so I didn’t have to worry about not being able to sit an exam, but I’m pretty pissed at this point because I had made sure I’d gone and done all the paperwork before I even started Summer School, and had received assurances that I had the green light. So I ring StudyLink and ask what the Capital F is going on, and am told that the problem is because they had thought my withdrawing from Semester Two the previous semester meant I was done with university study.
I then had to run around getting the various correspondences to provide to StudyLink again because they claim to have no record of them, and then talk to the university explaining the situation. The university then rings StudyLink for verification, StudyLink acknowledges the fault and says they’ll fix it up, and I’m promised that it should all be cleared up in three working days.
I was pretty stressed by this point, I was having what I think are quite justifiable fears (given the lack of communication) that I would not be enrolled in time and that my allowance would be cut off unexpectedly while studying, and so on my next counselling appointment I told the sordid tale and my counsellor went off to make a phone call, I guess to see what the story actually was and come back with assurances that would put my mind at rest.
Well he came back, but the news wasn’t good. Even after the university contacting StudyLink directly to see why the Student Loan payment for my Summer School fees hadn’t gone through, even after StudyLink had acknowledged they’d fucked up and promised to rectify the situation, nothing further had been done. I was still in limbo. But after a bit of further harassment by my counsellor and the university, the resolutions were actioned and it all went into processing, which I was told would take about three days or a week. Again.
The part that really, REALLY gets to me is the aforementioned arrogance. Everyone I spoke to in this administrative process -- from both the university and StudyLink -- treated me like I was causing them hassles they didn’t need, like I was just a complication, like it was my fault that things hadn’t gone smoothly, when the truth of the matter is that it was poor communication between the two organisations and staff at StudyLink failing to follow through on procedures that was really to blame. The admin staff at both just go with the assumption that the student is in the wrong, and it’s both insulting and unfair. I went through all the hassle of consulting with the university and StudyLink when I made the decision to withdraw last year, I provided all the required documentation and got their advice and information about what I could expect, and yet it would have gone more smoothly and caused me less anxiety in an already trying situation if I had simply failed the papers for which I was enrolled, given my good academic record. I should point out that I’m not alone in my anger and frustration, it seems a number of my friends have experienced similar attitudes from staff and had similar complications, even without the medical dramas.
Why all this confusion? Why is documentation going missing, why are StudyLink decisions being suddenly reversed, why aren’t agreed resolutions being followed through? I attribute it to what I see as two serious failings in the way StudyLink operates. The first is that students are largely excluded from the actual decision making process. When calls were going back and forth between the university and StudyLink, though I was physically in the room I was shut out of the conversation, it was all jargon and acronyms, with no explanation offered to me of what any of it meant, in fact no questions or comments directed to me at all. It was bloody confusing, is what it was, and then I was pretty much shunted from the office without any clarification. I had to actually go and make further enquiries at reception just to find out what the hell had just happened.
The second problem that I see is that StudyLink doesn’t actually assign case-managers, and so you end up talking to several different people, none of whom consult with each other or go higher up the chain when they’re not sure of what to do in a particular situation. Person A says the appropriate action is such and such, and then Person B, not knowing why person A did that, simply says ‘Oh well, that wasn’t the correct action to take, we’ll have to change it,’ and so on. Decisions are overturned because the people making the initial decision aren’t familiar with the case history or sure what to do and so they guess. A few minutes consultation or even rescheduling the appointment with the client to sort out exactly what the current standing of their application is would be adequate, and having particular staff assigned to particular cases would make this a lot easier. It would certainly mean friendlier service.
DannyR
CHAFF Review - Gran Torino
Gran Torino A+ or 9.5/10
Directed by Clint Eastwood. Starring Clint Eastwood, Christopher Carley, Bee Vang, Ahney Her.
I wasn’t really sure what I was getting myself in for when I agreed to go to see Gran Torino with some friends on my birthday, all I knew was that it was something about an old guy and a car, and that said old guy was Clint Eastwood. Sure, cars can be cool, and old people are fun to laugh at occasionally, but I was kind of amazed that Clint Eastwood was even still alive, let alone making films. So it was with much trepidation that I accepted my free ticket and jumbo-sized cup of branded, carbonated sugar-water and trudged into the theatre.
The movie starts with unpleasant old bastard Walt Kowalski at his wife’s funeral, standing stoically beside the coffin and observing his family as they enter the church, disgust and disapproval radiating from him. Everything you need to know about Walt, you learn in the first ten minutes – his two adult sons want nothing to do with him, his grandchildren think he’s a waste of space, his daughter-in-law wants him put in a home so they can sell the house. He’s a war vet who worked on an assembly line for an American car manufacturer for 40 years, he flies the Stars and Stripes outside his front door, and his pride and joy is his 1972 Gran Torino Sport (which, by the way, is a stunningly beautiful machine).
This man is a relic, a fossil, a dinosaur. But we can kind of relate, and that’s the genius and beauty of this movie. His grandchildren really are loathesome, grasping little shits. The way his own sons can’t be bothered with him, even when he’s just lost his wife, it’s just plain heartbreaking. This is a man who must stand by and watch as everything he and his immigrant family worked so hard for, for so many years, is simply discarded – forgotten, deemed worthless and irrelevant. This is a man watching the sun set on the American Dream.
But Walt finds the things he values – hard work, family, respect for elders, pride in one’s heritage – in the last place he expected to see them. After the funeral, at his wife’s wake, he quietly slips out the front door of his own house, unwanted, unnoticed, alone. It’s heart-wrenching. And that’s when he first sees his new neighbours moving in – a family of Asian immigrants, excited and noisy, being all foreign and stuff. Eastwood’s lip curls in that iconic grimace we’ve all seen a thousand times, and Walt’s disgust is plain to see. There goes the neighbourhood, the sun has set.
But Walt comes to see that though at first glance we may not see any common ground between us and those alien to us, by looking under the surface and behind closed doors – literally, in this case – we can find a lot to respect. The film progresses slowly, set against the backdrop of a decaying suburbia rife with violent crime and gang warfare. Through his entanglement in the lives and struggles of his new neighbours, Walt finds that all is not lost, that he can still make a difference, that standing up for what he believed in was not a waste of his life.
After a bit of thought, I’ve decided that Eastwood has targeted this film at both the liberal Democrats, who have traditionally been more welcoming of ethnic minorities and change but intolerant of conservative values, and equally at conservative Republicans, who have dug in their heels and refused to acknowledge the changes the late 20th and early 21st Century have brought. And he does it brilliantly, by giving us a struggling, hard-working immigrant family to represent progressive concerns and a lovable old coot for traditionalists to relate to, showing how their interests come together and that each can learn from the other and that each has something valid to say. I’m surprised to be saying it, but Clint Eastwood is an amazing actor and director, and this might be the best movie I’ve seen in years. I loved it, it was moving, intelligent, and genuinely funny.
It also showed me just how much fun swearing and insulting others can be. In that spirit, then, I tell you to go see this fucking movie, you fucking dipshit wastes of taxpayer’s money. Peace out.
Danny Rudd
Directed by Clint Eastwood. Starring Clint Eastwood, Christopher Carley, Bee Vang, Ahney Her.
I wasn’t really sure what I was getting myself in for when I agreed to go to see Gran Torino with some friends on my birthday, all I knew was that it was something about an old guy and a car, and that said old guy was Clint Eastwood. Sure, cars can be cool, and old people are fun to laugh at occasionally, but I was kind of amazed that Clint Eastwood was even still alive, let alone making films. So it was with much trepidation that I accepted my free ticket and jumbo-sized cup of branded, carbonated sugar-water and trudged into the theatre.
The movie starts with unpleasant old bastard Walt Kowalski at his wife’s funeral, standing stoically beside the coffin and observing his family as they enter the church, disgust and disapproval radiating from him. Everything you need to know about Walt, you learn in the first ten minutes – his two adult sons want nothing to do with him, his grandchildren think he’s a waste of space, his daughter-in-law wants him put in a home so they can sell the house. He’s a war vet who worked on an assembly line for an American car manufacturer for 40 years, he flies the Stars and Stripes outside his front door, and his pride and joy is his 1972 Gran Torino Sport (which, by the way, is a stunningly beautiful machine).
This man is a relic, a fossil, a dinosaur. But we can kind of relate, and that’s the genius and beauty of this movie. His grandchildren really are loathesome, grasping little shits. The way his own sons can’t be bothered with him, even when he’s just lost his wife, it’s just plain heartbreaking. This is a man who must stand by and watch as everything he and his immigrant family worked so hard for, for so many years, is simply discarded – forgotten, deemed worthless and irrelevant. This is a man watching the sun set on the American Dream.
But Walt finds the things he values – hard work, family, respect for elders, pride in one’s heritage – in the last place he expected to see them. After the funeral, at his wife’s wake, he quietly slips out the front door of his own house, unwanted, unnoticed, alone. It’s heart-wrenching. And that’s when he first sees his new neighbours moving in – a family of Asian immigrants, excited and noisy, being all foreign and stuff. Eastwood’s lip curls in that iconic grimace we’ve all seen a thousand times, and Walt’s disgust is plain to see. There goes the neighbourhood, the sun has set.
But Walt comes to see that though at first glance we may not see any common ground between us and those alien to us, by looking under the surface and behind closed doors – literally, in this case – we can find a lot to respect. The film progresses slowly, set against the backdrop of a decaying suburbia rife with violent crime and gang warfare. Through his entanglement in the lives and struggles of his new neighbours, Walt finds that all is not lost, that he can still make a difference, that standing up for what he believed in was not a waste of his life.
After a bit of thought, I’ve decided that Eastwood has targeted this film at both the liberal Democrats, who have traditionally been more welcoming of ethnic minorities and change but intolerant of conservative values, and equally at conservative Republicans, who have dug in their heels and refused to acknowledge the changes the late 20th and early 21st Century have brought. And he does it brilliantly, by giving us a struggling, hard-working immigrant family to represent progressive concerns and a lovable old coot for traditionalists to relate to, showing how their interests come together and that each can learn from the other and that each has something valid to say. I’m surprised to be saying it, but Clint Eastwood is an amazing actor and director, and this might be the best movie I’ve seen in years. I loved it, it was moving, intelligent, and genuinely funny.
It also showed me just how much fun swearing and insulting others can be. In that spirit, then, I tell you to go see this fucking movie, you fucking dipshit wastes of taxpayer’s money. Peace out.
Danny Rudd
Sunday, March 1, 2009
One Of Us! One Of Us!! -- Deviant 2, CHAFF, 2009
So you’re new to Massey, new to Palmytron, new to flatting and washing your own underwear and having your eftpos card decline when you go to buy 50c noodles at the supermarket. And you’re a homo.
Maybe you’ve only just worked it out, or maybe you’ve suspected for years that something was different about you, in between sneaking a look at Cosmo at the newsstand and turning tricks after midnight at the local public toilets. Whatever. Now you find yourself asking, just what is there to do in Palmerston North when you’re young, broke and lesbian/gay/bi/trans/etc?? Are you, in fact, the Only Gay in the Village??
Fear not, assorted fruits!! Deviant, your friendly neighbourhood Queer* page, is here to tell you all about the sheer fabulousity that is Palmy’s LGBT scene. Are you strapped in back there? Good, now sit back and enjoy the ride.
First stop on the tour, of course, is UniQ (pronounced yoo-nee-cue), Massey’s own Queer student social/support group. We meet on Tuesdays in town at our secret headquarters and work to implement our dastardly Gay Agenda (more on that later), sacrificing kittens to our Dark Lord and plotting to overthrow the government and destroy families. Also, we have cookies. If you’re interested, drop us a line at the email address in the side-bar and we’ll add you to the email list to be kept in the loop, or pop up to MUSA and ask – the staff are friendly and helpful and confidentiality is assured. We also bring you Deviant every week, so make sure you pick up a copy of CHAFF to see what we’re up to.
Then there’s the Manawatu Lesbian and Gay Rights Association (MaLGRA), our awesome local volunteer-run organisation that serves the LGBT community for the district. This is important, so listen up. MaLGRA provides some really great services and hosts some great events throughout the year. Let’s run through them, shall we??
Probably the main one you’ll be interested in is Club Q, our sooper-dooper Queer bar and nightclub down the end of Jersey Lane in town. It’s open Friday and Saturday nights from 10pm, and is a great place to meet people, get plastered for cheap and make eyes at hot guys/girls/whatever without getting your block knocked off. It is the place to be seen, darlink. There is a door-charge, but it’s only a few dollars and is more than made up for by the good music, friendly and safe atmosphere inside and convenience to buses and late-night pie-shops.
Don’t just show up though, because Club Q is run on a Clubs License you need to be a member, or the guest of a member, to enter. There are a bunch of membership options, the cheapest of which is $5 which is more than good enough, and someone who is already a member needs to vouch for you. This sounds like a hassle, but it’s actually a really good thing, it ensures your safety because let’s face it, there are still plenty of homophobic morons out there who feel threatened by anyone of the same sex thinking they’re cute and will smack a homo over for looking at them. But it does mean if you don’t know anyone who’s a member, you’re screwed, and not in a fun way. If you’re in that boat, come along to UniQ, get to know some of the gang, and voila! Problem solved.
MaLGRA also runs a couple of support groups, there’s a Lesbian/Bi women’s night at the club rooms on Wednesdays and a Gay/Bi men’s evening on Thursdays, same place. These groups hang out, go to movies, cafes, and shows, and are great if you want something to distract you from that assignment that’s due Friday. MaLGRA also runs a group for Queer kids in schools, Closet Space, but I’m guessing if you’re reading this you’re too old to go to that. However, if you think you might want to help out occasionally or get involved as a co-ordinator, enquire at UniQ or up at the Club and someone will have a talk with you about it.
MalGRA also puts on some really cool shows and things at Club Q some weekends, and they’re always looking for people to get involved as dancers/drag artistes/DJs etc... keep an eye on Deviant through the year for upcoming events and reviews.
There’s a social cricket match that happens every two or three weeks while the weather is good, it’s usually Lesbians vs Homos but it’s pretty relaxed so anybody can join in, and sometimes the boys actually win!! If sports aren’t your thing, just showing up to watch the drag queens run in heels is always worth a giggle.
And of course there are plenty of things to do that aren’t specifically LGBT-themed but which attract the gays like ants to the delicious Goody-Gumdrops ice cream I dropped on the ground when that bully knocked it from my nancy homo hand just now. Treat yourself to a decent haircut in town occasionally, or chat up the male shop assistants in clothing stores. Try local performing arts groups like the Massey drama club or the Fire Club, attend a poetry evening, check out what’s happening in the local arts scene by popping into the town library and picking up a brochure, or there’s my favourite sure-fire way to spot homos – just hang out at the gym and observe as they pose, pout and preen.
Remember you don’t have to go it alone, there are plenty of people around to help out and to hang with, so make ’09 your year, get active, get involved, get freaky and have fun, ‘cos Palmy (and university generally) is what you make of it!!
*Queer is a reclaimed word that represents sexual and gender diversity, including lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, takataapui and fa’afafine identities, and we acknowledge that it is not the preferred term for everyone.
DannyR
Maybe you’ve only just worked it out, or maybe you’ve suspected for years that something was different about you, in between sneaking a look at Cosmo at the newsstand and turning tricks after midnight at the local public toilets. Whatever. Now you find yourself asking, just what is there to do in Palmerston North when you’re young, broke and lesbian/gay/bi/trans/etc?? Are you, in fact, the Only Gay in the Village??
Fear not, assorted fruits!! Deviant, your friendly neighbourhood Queer* page, is here to tell you all about the sheer fabulousity that is Palmy’s LGBT scene. Are you strapped in back there? Good, now sit back and enjoy the ride.
First stop on the tour, of course, is UniQ (pronounced yoo-nee-cue), Massey’s own Queer student social/support group. We meet on Tuesdays in town at our secret headquarters and work to implement our dastardly Gay Agenda (more on that later), sacrificing kittens to our Dark Lord and plotting to overthrow the government and destroy families. Also, we have cookies. If you’re interested, drop us a line at the email address in the side-bar and we’ll add you to the email list to be kept in the loop, or pop up to MUSA and ask – the staff are friendly and helpful and confidentiality is assured. We also bring you Deviant every week, so make sure you pick up a copy of CHAFF to see what we’re up to.
Then there’s the Manawatu Lesbian and Gay Rights Association (MaLGRA), our awesome local volunteer-run organisation that serves the LGBT community for the district. This is important, so listen up. MaLGRA provides some really great services and hosts some great events throughout the year. Let’s run through them, shall we??
Probably the main one you’ll be interested in is Club Q, our sooper-dooper Queer bar and nightclub down the end of Jersey Lane in town. It’s open Friday and Saturday nights from 10pm, and is a great place to meet people, get plastered for cheap and make eyes at hot guys/girls/whatever without getting your block knocked off. It is the place to be seen, darlink. There is a door-charge, but it’s only a few dollars and is more than made up for by the good music, friendly and safe atmosphere inside and convenience to buses and late-night pie-shops.
Don’t just show up though, because Club Q is run on a Clubs License you need to be a member, or the guest of a member, to enter. There are a bunch of membership options, the cheapest of which is $5 which is more than good enough, and someone who is already a member needs to vouch for you. This sounds like a hassle, but it’s actually a really good thing, it ensures your safety because let’s face it, there are still plenty of homophobic morons out there who feel threatened by anyone of the same sex thinking they’re cute and will smack a homo over for looking at them. But it does mean if you don’t know anyone who’s a member, you’re screwed, and not in a fun way. If you’re in that boat, come along to UniQ, get to know some of the gang, and voila! Problem solved.
MaLGRA also runs a couple of support groups, there’s a Lesbian/Bi women’s night at the club rooms on Wednesdays and a Gay/Bi men’s evening on Thursdays, same place. These groups hang out, go to movies, cafes, and shows, and are great if you want something to distract you from that assignment that’s due Friday. MaLGRA also runs a group for Queer kids in schools, Closet Space, but I’m guessing if you’re reading this you’re too old to go to that. However, if you think you might want to help out occasionally or get involved as a co-ordinator, enquire at UniQ or up at the Club and someone will have a talk with you about it.
MalGRA also puts on some really cool shows and things at Club Q some weekends, and they’re always looking for people to get involved as dancers/drag artistes/DJs etc... keep an eye on Deviant through the year for upcoming events and reviews.
There’s a social cricket match that happens every two or three weeks while the weather is good, it’s usually Lesbians vs Homos but it’s pretty relaxed so anybody can join in, and sometimes the boys actually win!! If sports aren’t your thing, just showing up to watch the drag queens run in heels is always worth a giggle.
And of course there are plenty of things to do that aren’t specifically LGBT-themed but which attract the gays like ants to the delicious Goody-Gumdrops ice cream I dropped on the ground when that bully knocked it from my nancy homo hand just now. Treat yourself to a decent haircut in town occasionally, or chat up the male shop assistants in clothing stores. Try local performing arts groups like the Massey drama club or the Fire Club, attend a poetry evening, check out what’s happening in the local arts scene by popping into the town library and picking up a brochure, or there’s my favourite sure-fire way to spot homos – just hang out at the gym and observe as they pose, pout and preen.
Remember you don’t have to go it alone, there are plenty of people around to help out and to hang with, so make ’09 your year, get active, get involved, get freaky and have fun, ‘cos Palmy (and university generally) is what you make of it!!
*Queer is a reclaimed word that represents sexual and gender diversity, including lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, takataapui and fa’afafine identities, and we acknowledge that it is not the preferred term for everyone.
DannyR
Monday, February 23, 2009
What I Did In My Holidays -- CHAFF 1 2009
Hello Chaffy peoples!!
Hope you all are feeling glad to be back and psyched for the new semester. I thought for a bit about what to write for this my first column of the year, I considered imparting the wisdom I gleaned over the last few months from venerable spiritual masters on mountains remote, but after much contemplation I decided that the most enlightened path is to tell you about the mountain of dishes that has slowly accreted on my kitchen bench, and why you do, in fact, give a damn.
See I flat with this one other guy in a pretty little dump in Hokowhitu , let’s call him B, he is still technically a student because he hasn’t graduated and still enrols every semester, even though every semester he promptly withdraws because he doesn’t have the time for study and this has been the case for about eight years now. He’s a great guy – best flatmate I’ve ever had in fact – but I’m starting to suspect he is actually planning to overthrow the government and set himself up as a tyrannical dictator bent on world domination. What tipped me off? Was it the maniacal laughter in the dead of the night, the plans of Parliament Buildings strewn around his bedroom floor, the furtive glances at the door when the police drive past the house? No, it was more subtle even than that. It was his absolute aversion to doing the dishes.
B will not wash his cereal bowl and spoon after eating breakfast. Every day he gets a new one out from the cupboard, fills it up with delicious, healthy Nutrigrain or muesli, munches his way through while reading Stuff and gossiping on Bebo or MSN or whatever you crazy kids are calling it these days, and then he unceremoniously dumps the bowl on the bench and dashes out the door to work. Wouldn’t be so bad if he ate everything in the bowl and maybe licked it clean afterwards as I was wont to do as a child, but no, every day I am confronted by another bowl of half eaten muesli and yogurt. And I’m stuck cleaning them up, because if I don’t they just don’t get done, and the smell of a bench-load of week-old bowls of stagnant, putrid breakfast mush is enough to drive me to homicide.
He could just rinse the bowl out, but he doesn’t. Ever. So I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s intentional. But he must abhor this nasal offense as I do, surely, I refuse to believe that anybody could simply fail to detect or be bothered by such a vile stench. There must be something else, some reason for leaving the loathsome goo out to moulder and curdle. And I think I know what that reason is.
He’s raising an army of ants. That’s the only rational explanation. Those bowls of muck are there to feed his legions of miniature monstrous minions, because sure enough, if I don’t endanger my health and sanity rinsing off those unwashed bowls every morning the bench-top, and indeed the entire kitchen, is quickly overrun and conquered by those little fuckers. Millions of them. My quiet unassuming flatmate is in fact the Emperor of the Ants.
Yes, it’s terrifying, but fear not, children, for I will not bow before this scourge, this army of irritating arthropods. You may rest in your beds at night, secure in the knowledge that, and I alone, fight the battle for Palmerston North, -- nay, the world -- armed only with a plastic dish brush, a pair of pink rubber gloves and a can of Raid. Be grateful. I may yet ask for payment, and it may be more than you can afford.
I’m quite partial to Toffee Pops.
Danny R
Hope you all are feeling glad to be back and psyched for the new semester. I thought for a bit about what to write for this my first column of the year, I considered imparting the wisdom I gleaned over the last few months from venerable spiritual masters on mountains remote, but after much contemplation I decided that the most enlightened path is to tell you about the mountain of dishes that has slowly accreted on my kitchen bench, and why you do, in fact, give a damn.
See I flat with this one other guy in a pretty little dump in Hokowhitu , let’s call him B, he is still technically a student because he hasn’t graduated and still enrols every semester, even though every semester he promptly withdraws because he doesn’t have the time for study and this has been the case for about eight years now. He’s a great guy – best flatmate I’ve ever had in fact – but I’m starting to suspect he is actually planning to overthrow the government and set himself up as a tyrannical dictator bent on world domination. What tipped me off? Was it the maniacal laughter in the dead of the night, the plans of Parliament Buildings strewn around his bedroom floor, the furtive glances at the door when the police drive past the house? No, it was more subtle even than that. It was his absolute aversion to doing the dishes.
B will not wash his cereal bowl and spoon after eating breakfast. Every day he gets a new one out from the cupboard, fills it up with delicious, healthy Nutrigrain or muesli, munches his way through while reading Stuff and gossiping on Bebo or MSN or whatever you crazy kids are calling it these days, and then he unceremoniously dumps the bowl on the bench and dashes out the door to work. Wouldn’t be so bad if he ate everything in the bowl and maybe licked it clean afterwards as I was wont to do as a child, but no, every day I am confronted by another bowl of half eaten muesli and yogurt. And I’m stuck cleaning them up, because if I don’t they just don’t get done, and the smell of a bench-load of week-old bowls of stagnant, putrid breakfast mush is enough to drive me to homicide.
He could just rinse the bowl out, but he doesn’t. Ever. So I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s intentional. But he must abhor this nasal offense as I do, surely, I refuse to believe that anybody could simply fail to detect or be bothered by such a vile stench. There must be something else, some reason for leaving the loathsome goo out to moulder and curdle. And I think I know what that reason is.
He’s raising an army of ants. That’s the only rational explanation. Those bowls of muck are there to feed his legions of miniature monstrous minions, because sure enough, if I don’t endanger my health and sanity rinsing off those unwashed bowls every morning the bench-top, and indeed the entire kitchen, is quickly overrun and conquered by those little fuckers. Millions of them. My quiet unassuming flatmate is in fact the Emperor of the Ants.
Yes, it’s terrifying, but fear not, children, for I will not bow before this scourge, this army of irritating arthropods. You may rest in your beds at night, secure in the knowledge that, and I alone, fight the battle for Palmerston North, -- nay, the world -- armed only with a plastic dish brush, a pair of pink rubber gloves and a can of Raid. Be grateful. I may yet ask for payment, and it may be more than you can afford.
I’m quite partial to Toffee Pops.
Danny R
Sunday, February 15, 2009
CHAFF Review -- Underworld
Underworld 5/10
Starring Kate Beckinsale, Scott Speedman, Bill Nighy
K, so I watched this one recently on DVD with friends because we all know the newest instalment in the Underworld trilogy is coming out at theatres soon. It’s been a few years since I saw this picture, I only remembered that it had something to do with vampires and werewolves and that everybody was wearing big Fuck-Off boots and tight shiny leather like in The Matrix (such things tend to stick in my mind).
I’ve always thought vampire films were a bit wanky and pretentious, and this one’s no different. With the exception of hot-as-hell-but-cold-as-ice Selene (Kate Beckinsale), a Death Dealer committed to assassinating werewolves with guns – big ones, lots of – the rest are pretty standard fare, lounging around on sofas being bored and boring, sipping red wine (Or is it?? Come on people, CLICHÉ!!) And watching it, you don’t really give a damn about any of them.
The Lycans, the werewolf clan that Selene and her nocturnal crew are hunting, are as hairy and muscular in human form as their vampire counterparts are sleek and stylish. They look like drug dealers, until they get all big and monstrous in the moonlight and start climbing walls, lurking in sewers and dark alleyways and being vulnerable to silver bullets. And of course there aren’t any girl-werewolves. So again, pretty standard.
The plot, while a bit convoluted at times, isn’t too bad. The main story revolves around Selene , who finds herself attracted to a human, Michael Corvin (Scott Speedman) who is being targeted by the Lycans. After Michael is bitten by Lycan boss Lucian, Selene has to decide whether to do her duty and kill her man-crush or go against her clan and save him. Typical Romeo and Juliet stuff, but with lots of biting and blood-sucking.
I remember the film’s fight sequences as being pretty impressive when I saw it at the cinema in 2003, but I think they lost a lot in the translation to the small screen (so if you want to see the new movie, I’d suggest seeing it at the cinema). Watching this first instalment again, I’m struck by how loud this film is, it’s all howling, screaming, and gunfire. But then, I guess that’s to be expected.
In fact probably the best thing about Underworld is its soundtrack, which successfully creates the film’s dank and moody atmosphere, making up for the sometimes awful dialogue and acting. There’s a great blend of metal, hard rock, industrial, and gothic tracks, my favourites being David Bowie and James Maynard Keenan’s Bring Me The Disco King and Puscifier’s brilliant Rev 22:20, one of the seediest and most irreverent songs ever penned.
All in all, I have mixed feelings about this movie. Sometimes I think I like it, sometimes I think it’s awful. The critics certainly weren’t kind; one said, “This is a movie so paltry in its characters and shallow in its story that the war seems to exist primarily to provide graphic visuals,” while another has said “[B]y any reasonable standard, this dark vampire epic — all massive overacting, cologne-commercial design and sexy cat suits — sucks.”
Danny Rudd
Starring Kate Beckinsale, Scott Speedman, Bill Nighy
K, so I watched this one recently on DVD with friends because we all know the newest instalment in the Underworld trilogy is coming out at theatres soon. It’s been a few years since I saw this picture, I only remembered that it had something to do with vampires and werewolves and that everybody was wearing big Fuck-Off boots and tight shiny leather like in The Matrix (such things tend to stick in my mind).
I’ve always thought vampire films were a bit wanky and pretentious, and this one’s no different. With the exception of hot-as-hell-but-cold-as-ice Selene (Kate Beckinsale), a Death Dealer committed to assassinating werewolves with guns – big ones, lots of – the rest are pretty standard fare, lounging around on sofas being bored and boring, sipping red wine (Or is it?? Come on people, CLICHÉ!!) And watching it, you don’t really give a damn about any of them.
The Lycans, the werewolf clan that Selene and her nocturnal crew are hunting, are as hairy and muscular in human form as their vampire counterparts are sleek and stylish. They look like drug dealers, until they get all big and monstrous in the moonlight and start climbing walls, lurking in sewers and dark alleyways and being vulnerable to silver bullets. And of course there aren’t any girl-werewolves. So again, pretty standard.
The plot, while a bit convoluted at times, isn’t too bad. The main story revolves around Selene , who finds herself attracted to a human, Michael Corvin (Scott Speedman) who is being targeted by the Lycans. After Michael is bitten by Lycan boss Lucian, Selene has to decide whether to do her duty and kill her man-crush or go against her clan and save him. Typical Romeo and Juliet stuff, but with lots of biting and blood-sucking.
I remember the film’s fight sequences as being pretty impressive when I saw it at the cinema in 2003, but I think they lost a lot in the translation to the small screen (so if you want to see the new movie, I’d suggest seeing it at the cinema). Watching this first instalment again, I’m struck by how loud this film is, it’s all howling, screaming, and gunfire. But then, I guess that’s to be expected.
In fact probably the best thing about Underworld is its soundtrack, which successfully creates the film’s dank and moody atmosphere, making up for the sometimes awful dialogue and acting. There’s a great blend of metal, hard rock, industrial, and gothic tracks, my favourites being David Bowie and James Maynard Keenan’s Bring Me The Disco King and Puscifier’s brilliant Rev 22:20, one of the seediest and most irreverent songs ever penned.
All in all, I have mixed feelings about this movie. Sometimes I think I like it, sometimes I think it’s awful. The critics certainly weren’t kind; one said, “This is a movie so paltry in its characters and shallow in its story that the war seems to exist primarily to provide graphic visuals,” while another has said “[B]y any reasonable standard, this dark vampire epic — all massive overacting, cologne-commercial design and sexy cat suits — sucks.”
Danny Rudd
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Remembrances and Recriminations: A Year in the Life -- CHAFF 26 2008
So, the last Chaff for the year already!! Wow… the year has just flown by like so many flying monkeys off to terrorise dopey little girls in shiny red shoes and their irritating yappy dogs.
I don’t know about you lot, but for me 08’s been a bit of a rollercoaster… there’ve been plenty of highs, a few lows, some terrifying plungey bits in between and perhaps a bit of puking along the way. It’s got me looking back on the ride, and thinking that a fair bit of what we learn at university isn’t actually in our textbooks and tutorials, it’s what we learn outside of lectures and assignments, in our everyday lives.
So what have I learned this year? Anything??
Well I learned what a Quick Fuck is. The drink, I mean, and how to pour it.
I found out there are dictionaries of sign-language in the library. Seriously – it had never occurred to me that deaf people might occasionally need a dictionary. We live and learn.
I learned the surest way to tell if a guy likes you or not is also the simplest. Girls and homos, listen up. If he likes you, he’ll be physically near you for some reason… he’ll find excuses. If he’s not, he’ll stay away. You can pine and moon over him as much as you like, daydreaming about how perfect he is blah blah, but if he’s not actually around you, it’s a sure bet that he’s not thinking of you the way you’re thinking of him. Guys mostly suck at verbal communication, they avoid it. So if he isn’t sweet on you, or worse, actually doesn’t like you (i.e.: he thinks your breath smells, he draws pictures of you in the back of his books that involve various sharp implements and quantities of blood etc), it won’t come out in his words, he’ll just avoid you. On the other hand, if you see him often, like nearly everyday, if he shows up where he knows you’ll be and grunts, mumbles or stares at you, and if his reason for being there seems really random or silly, that’s almost a guarantee. If he blushes and stammers and stutters around you, that’s another good indication.
I learned that Sarah Silverman is f*cking Matt Damon, that Sarah Palin can see Russia from her house and that that constitutes ‘foreign policy’ for Republicans, that you should never trust a unicorn who wants you to visit Candy Mountain and that penguins can’t really fly, despite what David Attenborough would have you believe. Ah, YouTube, solace for the weary and fount of wisdom for the ages…
I’ve learned that people treat you the way you tell them to treat you. You tell them by your body language, facial expression and tone… what you think about yourself comes out in your non-verbal expression, and people pick up on that. If you don’t like you, you can’t expect anyone else to. And if you go around whining, saying “I can’t do this and that,” or “I’m not clever/brave/popular enough,” in a bid to get sympathy, then you shouldn’t be surprised when people accept that at face value. If you don’t look like you believe in your, nobody else will.
What else?? Making sure you get outside for even ten to fifteen minutes, for a walk or whatever at least once a day, does wonders for your stress levels. Even in winter, just taking the time to forget your schedule, your workload and that essay that was due last Thursday, and getting outdoors for some fresh air, can really help alleviate the anxiety. I’ve started walking through the Esplanade on my way to Massey, even though it’s five minutes out of my way, just so I can hear the breeze in the trees, see the flowers (or in winter, the mud) and just forget all the hassles for a few minutes, and it really lifts my mood. I recommend it to anyone – and if you can’t do it on the way to Massey, there are some nice gardens on campus to have a wander through.
I learned that Bebo is soul-destroying and encourages Obsessive Compulsive tendencies.
I discovered that lecturers are people too, not scary ogres hiding away in their offices who will rip your head off and shit down your throat if you dare to ask a question or ask for an extension (well, MOST of them aren’t). A lot of them actually like students coming to see them. Weird, I know.
I’ve learned that if you don't learn to say 'no' then you end up being expected to do everything, in your flat, your club, even with your family and friends. They just assume that you haven’t got anything else to do, or that you’ve got everything else under control. Rather than take on extras which you can’t handle, overwhelming yourself and inevitably letting other people down when it all turns to custard, it’s better to just say ‘No’ from the outset, explaining why, and if they don’t like it then tough. Your mental and emotional well-being is more important.
What’s more, there are people here at Massey to advise and support you when it all goes pear-shaped or gets out of control… the Student Counselling service is great, even if you just need someone to have a good ol’ bitch to, about flatmates, assignments, work, family, whatever. You don’t have to feel that you gotta do it all by yourself. Then there’s the Student Learning Centre too, they can be really useful at the start of a long or difficult assignment, they’ve got tons of helpful tips and they’re pretty friendly. I got some awesome handy tips from them for studying towards my exams last semester.
I learned that The IT Crowd is the most fuck-awesome British sitcom EVER.
I learned that getting past years’ exam-papers off the library catalogue to see what you’re in for is a REALLY good idea. Best to do it near the start of the semester, though, it puts you in the right frame of mind for your assignments and classes, and it gives you a fair idea of what is and isn’t relevant.
Getting people in your classes together to study really helps too… you can go over stuff you’re not clear on if you’re too shy to ask the lecturer, it’s a good way to make friends, and if you’re like me and don’t live with other students, it’s a great way to stay in study mode after classes are done for the day. AND you can use it as an excuse to talk to that girl/guy/ambiguously gendered person that you’re sweet on.
I’ve learned that writing for CHAFF is a great way to spout off poorly-thought-out opinions and be publicly obnoxious, and get away with it (mostly). Good times…
I think I’ll leave it on that note, actually. If you don’t hear from me next year, it’ll be because William has murdered me and buried my body in a field somewhere. In that event, I leave my Furby collection and Britney Spears albums to Cassie.
Peace y’all,
DannyR.
I don’t know about you lot, but for me 08’s been a bit of a rollercoaster… there’ve been plenty of highs, a few lows, some terrifying plungey bits in between and perhaps a bit of puking along the way. It’s got me looking back on the ride, and thinking that a fair bit of what we learn at university isn’t actually in our textbooks and tutorials, it’s what we learn outside of lectures and assignments, in our everyday lives.
So what have I learned this year? Anything??
Well I learned what a Quick Fuck is. The drink, I mean, and how to pour it.
I found out there are dictionaries of sign-language in the library. Seriously – it had never occurred to me that deaf people might occasionally need a dictionary. We live and learn.
I learned the surest way to tell if a guy likes you or not is also the simplest. Girls and homos, listen up. If he likes you, he’ll be physically near you for some reason… he’ll find excuses. If he’s not, he’ll stay away. You can pine and moon over him as much as you like, daydreaming about how perfect he is blah blah, but if he’s not actually around you, it’s a sure bet that he’s not thinking of you the way you’re thinking of him. Guys mostly suck at verbal communication, they avoid it. So if he isn’t sweet on you, or worse, actually doesn’t like you (i.e.: he thinks your breath smells, he draws pictures of you in the back of his books that involve various sharp implements and quantities of blood etc), it won’t come out in his words, he’ll just avoid you. On the other hand, if you see him often, like nearly everyday, if he shows up where he knows you’ll be and grunts, mumbles or stares at you, and if his reason for being there seems really random or silly, that’s almost a guarantee. If he blushes and stammers and stutters around you, that’s another good indication.
I learned that Sarah Silverman is f*cking Matt Damon, that Sarah Palin can see Russia from her house and that that constitutes ‘foreign policy’ for Republicans, that you should never trust a unicorn who wants you to visit Candy Mountain and that penguins can’t really fly, despite what David Attenborough would have you believe. Ah, YouTube, solace for the weary and fount of wisdom for the ages…
I’ve learned that people treat you the way you tell them to treat you. You tell them by your body language, facial expression and tone… what you think about yourself comes out in your non-verbal expression, and people pick up on that. If you don’t like you, you can’t expect anyone else to. And if you go around whining, saying “I can’t do this and that,” or “I’m not clever/brave/popular enough,” in a bid to get sympathy, then you shouldn’t be surprised when people accept that at face value. If you don’t look like you believe in your, nobody else will.
What else?? Making sure you get outside for even ten to fifteen minutes, for a walk or whatever at least once a day, does wonders for your stress levels. Even in winter, just taking the time to forget your schedule, your workload and that essay that was due last Thursday, and getting outdoors for some fresh air, can really help alleviate the anxiety. I’ve started walking through the Esplanade on my way to Massey, even though it’s five minutes out of my way, just so I can hear the breeze in the trees, see the flowers (or in winter, the mud) and just forget all the hassles for a few minutes, and it really lifts my mood. I recommend it to anyone – and if you can’t do it on the way to Massey, there are some nice gardens on campus to have a wander through.
I learned that Bebo is soul-destroying and encourages Obsessive Compulsive tendencies.
I discovered that lecturers are people too, not scary ogres hiding away in their offices who will rip your head off and shit down your throat if you dare to ask a question or ask for an extension (well, MOST of them aren’t). A lot of them actually like students coming to see them. Weird, I know.
I’ve learned that if you don't learn to say 'no' then you end up being expected to do everything, in your flat, your club, even with your family and friends. They just assume that you haven’t got anything else to do, or that you’ve got everything else under control. Rather than take on extras which you can’t handle, overwhelming yourself and inevitably letting other people down when it all turns to custard, it’s better to just say ‘No’ from the outset, explaining why, and if they don’t like it then tough. Your mental and emotional well-being is more important.
What’s more, there are people here at Massey to advise and support you when it all goes pear-shaped or gets out of control… the Student Counselling service is great, even if you just need someone to have a good ol’ bitch to, about flatmates, assignments, work, family, whatever. You don’t have to feel that you gotta do it all by yourself. Then there’s the Student Learning Centre too, they can be really useful at the start of a long or difficult assignment, they’ve got tons of helpful tips and they’re pretty friendly. I got some awesome handy tips from them for studying towards my exams last semester.
I learned that The IT Crowd is the most fuck-awesome British sitcom EVER.
I learned that getting past years’ exam-papers off the library catalogue to see what you’re in for is a REALLY good idea. Best to do it near the start of the semester, though, it puts you in the right frame of mind for your assignments and classes, and it gives you a fair idea of what is and isn’t relevant.
Getting people in your classes together to study really helps too… you can go over stuff you’re not clear on if you’re too shy to ask the lecturer, it’s a good way to make friends, and if you’re like me and don’t live with other students, it’s a great way to stay in study mode after classes are done for the day. AND you can use it as an excuse to talk to that girl/guy/ambiguously gendered person that you’re sweet on.
I’ve learned that writing for CHAFF is a great way to spout off poorly-thought-out opinions and be publicly obnoxious, and get away with it (mostly). Good times…
I think I’ll leave it on that note, actually. If you don’t hear from me next year, it’ll be because William has murdered me and buried my body in a field somewhere. In that event, I leave my Furby collection and Britney Spears albums to Cassie.
Peace y’all,
DannyR.
Friday, September 12, 2008
CHAFF Review -- Iron Man
Starring Robert Downey Jr., Gwyneth Paltrow, Jeff Bridges
Grade: A- or 8/10.
I’ve never read an Iron Man comic, so I don’t know if the movie was faithful to its source material or not. I went in expecting just another slick, brainless superhero movie, the likes of Ghost Rider or Fantastic Four, which Hollywood is churning out with such alarming rapidity these days. But the opening scene of Iron Man surprised me – there was no need to consciously suspend the old disbelief because it felt like I was just looking at the real world, albeit a real world much occupied by Robert Downey Jr. The surprises came thick and fast from the outset, I was caught up and swept away. Five minutes in, I was staring up at the screen in disbelief… could this actually be a smart superhero movie?
But superhero movies have a certain predictability built in, don’t they? They all tell essentially the same story, something terrible happens to someone, giving him/her some special ability that confers on him/her an obligation to Protect the Innocent. And sure enough, after twenty minutes, with each new plot development I was able to make a pretty good guess where the story was going. The Bad Guys are profit-hungry, war-mongering Corporations, there’s a monstrous nemesis, a small circle of friends in-the-know, and the rich man who’s made a living off the misery of others grows a conscience… nothing new, and yet the tired old clichés still felt fresh somehow.
I found myself sitting there wondering if this movie would have been made if not for the success of Batman Begins and Transformers… it certainly has some of the feel of both, without the former’s dark, brooding atmosphere or the latter’s relentless Battle-of-the-robotic-Titans conflict. It’s difficult not to compare Iron Man with Batman Begins, especially, they’re both origin stories, both have protagonists who happen to be incredibly wealthy, who suffer personal tragedies that wake them up to the cruel world, both spend time creating formidable suits of war with which they will put Wrong to Right, yadda yadda, etc etc.
Robert Downey Jr.’s little moments of comedy were what made this movie for me. The movie’s Wikipedia page says he is a fan of the comic, and it shows. He poked fun at his character and the superhero genre throughout, his technological marvel breaking down in all sorts of amusing ways. His dialogue and delivery felt completely natural and ad-lib, it was witty and glib, there were none of the usual gasps of ‘You’re insane!’ directed at the villain, and not once did I feel the plot was being explained to me as if I was too stupid to get what was happening (most superhero movies do this – “I have to stop him from firing the missile launcher at the President’s jet!” etc). The robo-suit itself was pretty cool; the CGI blended seamlessly with pyrotechnic and robotic effects and there were some genuinely affecting moments. Gwyneth Paltrow didn’t suck. That is to say, I didn’t want to grind her face into the pavement every time I saw her, which is a refreshing first for me.
I don’t have many gripes with this film… the big bad villain didn’t feel threatening enough, perhaps, and the Final Conflict wasn’t all that epic. I was disappointed by the film’s portrayal of the only foreign-nationals in it… they happened to be Afghani, oppressed and terrorised by militant fundamentalists, and in need of rescuing by the good ol’ U.S of A… Only one of the locals in Afghanistan wasn’t having a gun thrust in his face or doing the gun-thrusting to his fellow countrymen, and he very soon died, but not without helping the shallow protagonist discover his conscience. Maybe not such a big deal, but it smacked of stereotype.
Overall, I really enjoyed this film, it’s got it’s flaws, but it’s one of the better examples of its genre and a damn sight better than most of the other superhero crap Hollywood puts out, with the exception of Batman Begins and maybe Spiderman 2. Check it out.
Danny Rudd
Grade: A- or 8/10.
I’ve never read an Iron Man comic, so I don’t know if the movie was faithful to its source material or not. I went in expecting just another slick, brainless superhero movie, the likes of Ghost Rider or Fantastic Four, which Hollywood is churning out with such alarming rapidity these days. But the opening scene of Iron Man surprised me – there was no need to consciously suspend the old disbelief because it felt like I was just looking at the real world, albeit a real world much occupied by Robert Downey Jr. The surprises came thick and fast from the outset, I was caught up and swept away. Five minutes in, I was staring up at the screen in disbelief… could this actually be a smart superhero movie?
But superhero movies have a certain predictability built in, don’t they? They all tell essentially the same story, something terrible happens to someone, giving him/her some special ability that confers on him/her an obligation to Protect the Innocent. And sure enough, after twenty minutes, with each new plot development I was able to make a pretty good guess where the story was going. The Bad Guys are profit-hungry, war-mongering Corporations, there’s a monstrous nemesis, a small circle of friends in-the-know, and the rich man who’s made a living off the misery of others grows a conscience… nothing new, and yet the tired old clichés still felt fresh somehow.
I found myself sitting there wondering if this movie would have been made if not for the success of Batman Begins and Transformers… it certainly has some of the feel of both, without the former’s dark, brooding atmosphere or the latter’s relentless Battle-of-the-robotic-Titans conflict. It’s difficult not to compare Iron Man with Batman Begins, especially, they’re both origin stories, both have protagonists who happen to be incredibly wealthy, who suffer personal tragedies that wake them up to the cruel world, both spend time creating formidable suits of war with which they will put Wrong to Right, yadda yadda, etc etc.
Robert Downey Jr.’s little moments of comedy were what made this movie for me. The movie’s Wikipedia page says he is a fan of the comic, and it shows. He poked fun at his character and the superhero genre throughout, his technological marvel breaking down in all sorts of amusing ways. His dialogue and delivery felt completely natural and ad-lib, it was witty and glib, there were none of the usual gasps of ‘You’re insane!’ directed at the villain, and not once did I feel the plot was being explained to me as if I was too stupid to get what was happening (most superhero movies do this – “I have to stop him from firing the missile launcher at the President’s jet!” etc). The robo-suit itself was pretty cool; the CGI blended seamlessly with pyrotechnic and robotic effects and there were some genuinely affecting moments. Gwyneth Paltrow didn’t suck. That is to say, I didn’t want to grind her face into the pavement every time I saw her, which is a refreshing first for me.
I don’t have many gripes with this film… the big bad villain didn’t feel threatening enough, perhaps, and the Final Conflict wasn’t all that epic. I was disappointed by the film’s portrayal of the only foreign-nationals in it… they happened to be Afghani, oppressed and terrorised by militant fundamentalists, and in need of rescuing by the good ol’ U.S of A… Only one of the locals in Afghanistan wasn’t having a gun thrust in his face or doing the gun-thrusting to his fellow countrymen, and he very soon died, but not without helping the shallow protagonist discover his conscience. Maybe not such a big deal, but it smacked of stereotype.
Overall, I really enjoyed this film, it’s got it’s flaws, but it’s one of the better examples of its genre and a damn sight better than most of the other superhero crap Hollywood puts out, with the exception of Batman Begins and maybe Spiderman 2. Check it out.
Danny Rudd
Thursday, August 21, 2008
CHAFF Review -- Prince Caspian
Directed by Andrew Adamson, Starring Ben Barnes, Georgie Henley, Liam Neeson.
Grade: B+ or 8/10
I came into this second Narnia movie really expecting to dislike it, given my reaction to the first film which, while undeniably stylish and clever, and somewhat redeemed by the amazing Tilda Swinton, was nevertheless a blatant attempt to shove Christian theology down the audience’s throats. That was certainly Lewis’s intent, and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe was remarkably faithful to it. Shuddering slightly, I expected much the same of Prince Caspian.
I was pleasantly surprised. The theology is there but it’s a lot more subtle, more a subtext that is gently brought up at a couple of points, it’s not nearly so intrusive. The story is allowed to take precedence, and it’s a better film for it. Aslan’s words to the ever-faithful Lucy, that “Things never happen the same way twice,” can be read either as a dig at doubters of miracles, as an invitation to suspend disbelief and revel in the fantastic, or as a hint that this movie won’t be anything like the first.
And it isn’t. From almost the very first frame, this second Narnia film more closely resembles an installment of Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings than the shiny, bright The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. It’s visually much darker than its predecessor, and there are plenty of visual references to Jackson’s films, the most obvious being the lone hero on horseback racing across the plains, pursued by an arrowhead of dastardly foes. There’s the sweeping vistas, giant war machines and elaborate battle scenes, topped off with a whole lot of Nature getting angry.
The score was sometimes brilliant and evocative, sometimes a little irritating. The script was actually really good, and the leads were satisfactory in their roles, especially Caspian himself and his wicked uncle Miras. Oldest Pevensie child Peter is just as whiny and boring as he was in the first film, but he does get a brilliantly shot duel scene with the intimidating Miras. He’s completely outshone by younger brother Edmund however, who gets all the best lines and more interesting things to do.
I was more interested in how the film handled the girl’s roles, especially after Wardrobe, where they pretty much just sat on the sidelines and cried a lot. Here, Lucy can be seen to represent either the value of lion-hearted faith or a sense of optimism and wonder at the world, while older sister Susan is a woman of action, front and centre in all the big fight sequences and assertive in her relationships. Particularly refreshingly, there’s no inherently good and bad ‘us’ and ‘them’ of different races and peoples here, a definite improvement on the previous film and the books on which the films are based.
There were a couple of genuinely affecting moments scattered throughout all the action, some pretty frightening scenes that will probably give little kids nightmares for a while to come, and some light humour provided by Eddie Izzard as a talking mouse. I personally loved Adamson’s subtle visual nod to his Shrek films, involving a certain ginger cat. It’s as if with this film Adamson is saying “Watch out people, Narnia is going to be big.” And that might not be such a scary prospect after all.
Danny R.
Grade: B+ or 8/10
I came into this second Narnia movie really expecting to dislike it, given my reaction to the first film which, while undeniably stylish and clever, and somewhat redeemed by the amazing Tilda Swinton, was nevertheless a blatant attempt to shove Christian theology down the audience’s throats. That was certainly Lewis’s intent, and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe was remarkably faithful to it. Shuddering slightly, I expected much the same of Prince Caspian.
I was pleasantly surprised. The theology is there but it’s a lot more subtle, more a subtext that is gently brought up at a couple of points, it’s not nearly so intrusive. The story is allowed to take precedence, and it’s a better film for it. Aslan’s words to the ever-faithful Lucy, that “Things never happen the same way twice,” can be read either as a dig at doubters of miracles, as an invitation to suspend disbelief and revel in the fantastic, or as a hint that this movie won’t be anything like the first.
And it isn’t. From almost the very first frame, this second Narnia film more closely resembles an installment of Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings than the shiny, bright The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. It’s visually much darker than its predecessor, and there are plenty of visual references to Jackson’s films, the most obvious being the lone hero on horseback racing across the plains, pursued by an arrowhead of dastardly foes. There’s the sweeping vistas, giant war machines and elaborate battle scenes, topped off with a whole lot of Nature getting angry.
The score was sometimes brilliant and evocative, sometimes a little irritating. The script was actually really good, and the leads were satisfactory in their roles, especially Caspian himself and his wicked uncle Miras. Oldest Pevensie child Peter is just as whiny and boring as he was in the first film, but he does get a brilliantly shot duel scene with the intimidating Miras. He’s completely outshone by younger brother Edmund however, who gets all the best lines and more interesting things to do.
I was more interested in how the film handled the girl’s roles, especially after Wardrobe, where they pretty much just sat on the sidelines and cried a lot. Here, Lucy can be seen to represent either the value of lion-hearted faith or a sense of optimism and wonder at the world, while older sister Susan is a woman of action, front and centre in all the big fight sequences and assertive in her relationships. Particularly refreshingly, there’s no inherently good and bad ‘us’ and ‘them’ of different races and peoples here, a definite improvement on the previous film and the books on which the films are based.
There were a couple of genuinely affecting moments scattered throughout all the action, some pretty frightening scenes that will probably give little kids nightmares for a while to come, and some light humour provided by Eddie Izzard as a talking mouse. I personally loved Adamson’s subtle visual nod to his Shrek films, involving a certain ginger cat. It’s as if with this film Adamson is saying “Watch out people, Narnia is going to be big.” And that might not be such a scary prospect after all.
Danny R.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Good Slut, Bad Slut -- CHAFF 2008
When I chose my life of polyamory, I was desperately worried that my friends would think I was some sort of sex-obsessed selfish pervert, and judging by some of their initial reactions, my fears weren’t entirely unjustified. So I made sure I distanced myself from all those nasty notions of ‘bad’ sluttery we’re all so familiar with; I was the very model of the ‘Ethical Slut.’
What do I mean by that? What is polyamory? Well, it’s a complex, difficult thing to define, but at its most basic it’s a commitment to romantic or sexual relationships that aren’t exclusive. In other words, you may have a relationship with your partner, and he or she may have another partner or more than one, and so might you. You might belong to a triple, instead of the more conventional couple we’re all used to, or even a quad. You might all share a house, or may live in separate homes, dividing your time between partners. Sounds wack, right? But polyamorists will tell you it’s only natural, that the lifelong exclusive romantic relationship we’ve all come to expect in the Western world is a cultural invention, and we can actually choose what works best for us each individually.
There’s a whole new language of relationships being worked out to deal with the complexities of polyamory… it gets pretty complicated. There’s your Primary Partner(s), the person or persons with whom you are in your most significant relationship, then there’s your Secondary and even Tertiary partners with whom you have slightly less involved relationships. To clarify – polyamory isn’t just a being in a couple that fools around a bit on the side, like ‘swinging,’ because you can actually have more than one Primary Partner (i.e.: everyone’s on the same footing), such as in a Triangle relationship. And it gets more complicated than that… your relationship can be closed (i.e.: nobody new can be brought in – that’s called Polyfidelity) or open to anyone (what some polyamorists jokingly call Polyfuckery).
The important point here, the REALLY important bit, is that it’s all honest and consensual – everyone involved knows what’s going on, and is free to participate or not. In other words, it’s NOT ‘cheating,’ because no agreements are being broken. In fact, polyamory is all about honest communication, negotiation and respect for the people you’re involved with. It’s NOT a traditional polygamous harem, where one man has several women at his beck and call (the stereotypical straight-boy dream), in fact, if you go onto any polyamory website you’ll find women are pursuing non-monogamous relationships just as much as men are, and that they’re happy calling the shots*.
Polyamorists say they’re just being realistic, that the Number One relationship hang-up in the Western world is ‘cheating’ and being ‘cheated on,’ that dishonesty around non-monogamy is widespread and wrecks a lot of otherwise good relationships, and that they’re just accepting human nature for what it is and moving past all the guilt and hurt by dealing with the issues in ways that are respectful and honest. They don’t think polyamory is right for everyone, they stress that it’s NOT a fix for a bad relationship (in fact it’ll just make a bad relationship worse), and they point out that it takes work – LOTS of work, and good communication skills. In fact, think of all the work that goes into a monogamous relationship, and multiply that by the number of partners in the poly relationship, and that should be enough to put you off, right? But even so, polyamorists will tell you it’s worth it, that “love shared is love multiplied.”
What do I mean by that? What is polyamory? Well, it’s a complex, difficult thing to define, but at its most basic it’s a commitment to romantic or sexual relationships that aren’t exclusive. In other words, you may have a relationship with your partner, and he or she may have another partner or more than one, and so might you. You might belong to a triple, instead of the more conventional couple we’re all used to, or even a quad. You might all share a house, or may live in separate homes, dividing your time between partners. Sounds wack, right? But polyamorists will tell you it’s only natural, that the lifelong exclusive romantic relationship we’ve all come to expect in the Western world is a cultural invention, and we can actually choose what works best for us each individually.
There’s a whole new language of relationships being worked out to deal with the complexities of polyamory… it gets pretty complicated. There’s your Primary Partner(s), the person or persons with whom you are in your most significant relationship, then there’s your Secondary and even Tertiary partners with whom you have slightly less involved relationships. To clarify – polyamory isn’t just a being in a couple that fools around a bit on the side, like ‘swinging,’ because you can actually have more than one Primary Partner (i.e.: everyone’s on the same footing), such as in a Triangle relationship. And it gets more complicated than that… your relationship can be closed (i.e.: nobody new can be brought in – that’s called Polyfidelity) or open to anyone (what some polyamorists jokingly call Polyfuckery).
The important point here, the REALLY important bit, is that it’s all honest and consensual – everyone involved knows what’s going on, and is free to participate or not. In other words, it’s NOT ‘cheating,’ because no agreements are being broken. In fact, polyamory is all about honest communication, negotiation and respect for the people you’re involved with. It’s NOT a traditional polygamous harem, where one man has several women at his beck and call (the stereotypical straight-boy dream), in fact, if you go onto any polyamory website you’ll find women are pursuing non-monogamous relationships just as much as men are, and that they’re happy calling the shots*.
Polyamorists say they’re just being realistic, that the Number One relationship hang-up in the Western world is ‘cheating’ and being ‘cheated on,’ that dishonesty around non-monogamy is widespread and wrecks a lot of otherwise good relationships, and that they’re just accepting human nature for what it is and moving past all the guilt and hurt by dealing with the issues in ways that are respectful and honest. They don’t think polyamory is right for everyone, they stress that it’s NOT a fix for a bad relationship (in fact it’ll just make a bad relationship worse), and they point out that it takes work – LOTS of work, and good communication skills. In fact, think of all the work that goes into a monogamous relationship, and multiply that by the number of partners in the poly relationship, and that should be enough to put you off, right? But even so, polyamorists will tell you it’s worth it, that “love shared is love multiplied.”
The polyamorist is careful to mention that it’s about love, not sex, and very often they reject labels like heterosexual, homosexual and bisexual when talking about themselves because those terms lead people to focus on the nookie – who gets it, with whom, and how often. Poly people frequently point out that they often have fewer sexual partners than people who practise serial monogamy, and that sometimes their relationships don’t even involve sex at all. A lot of polyamorists say that friendship IS a kind of polyamory… we don’t expect our friends not to have other friends, we accept that they might not want exactly the same things as we do, we let them live and grow and learn from others. It takes a lot of trust, great communication skills, and a willingness to tackle the hard stuff head on (like jealousy and insecurity).
The long and the short of it is that people who practice polyamory make a distinction between what they do and what people generally think of when they think about non-monogamy, which is dishonesty, deception, and rampant, indiscriminate promiscuity. Look at us, poly people say, we’re respectable!!
In other words, they don’t want to look like the ‘bad’ slut.
Who is this ‘bad’ slut? We’re all familiar with her/him. S/he is villainized in television, movies and popular song, because s/he has casual sexual relationships that don’t involve love, whether through ‘cheating,’ swinging, or just good ol’ fashioned promiscuous singlehood. The ‘bad’ slut ISN’T someone who cheats on a partner because s/he’s met someone s/he likes better and then leaves the first partner for the second, that’s pretty commonplace these days and, while hurtful, is generally accepted as just doing serial monogamy badly. No, the ‘bad’ slut is usually female (when it’s a guy his whoring around is usually celebrated – double standards people!!), s/he’s someone who enjoys sex for the sake of it and is happy to have it outside of relationships. And in our contemporary culture, that’s just not on.
Sociologists tell us that this state of affairs was set up by heterosexual couples hundreds of years ago, when romantic love stopped being just an adulterous liaison in the royal courts of Europe and started being seen (in the West at least) as a good basis for marriage. It’s not too much of a jump from sex as an expression of love within marriage to sex as an expression of love before marriage, as long as the two people do actually intend to get married. And from that it’s no big step to sex as an expression of love without marriage ever actually entering the equation, and to loving sexual relations between people of the same sex who aren’t allowed to get married. But it’s a much bigger jump from this kind of sex as part of a loving, intimate relationship to sex just for the fun of it, outside of a relationship, with whoever we want to have it with. That’s why promiscuity is still frowned on, why gay and lesbian couples can be together and be respectable and accepted, as long as they keep the sex in relationships.
As a culture, we don’t like people having casual sex, we tend to think it’s something you grow out of, or happily give up when you meet “the One.” Even recent shows like Sex and the City, for all their boasting of being about empowered women enjoying their sexuality, ultimately preach the old lesson that the most satisfying and fulfilled sex life is one that leads (even in the most roundabout way) to the traditional “Happily Ever After.” Maybe that’s what’s behind the recent rise in the popularity of polyamory: it’s non-monogamy, but it’s still playing by the rules. Kinda.
But there’s a problem with polyamorists calling themselves the “Ethical Sluts.” It implies that polyamory is the only ethical non-monogamy, it implies that people who are happy to enjoy sex outside of committed relationships are incapable of being honest with or respectful of their sexual partners. Essentially it reinforces all those old notions about the ‘bad’ slut, condemning all those whose non-monogamy takes other forms, such as the open marriage, friends-with-benefits or fuck-buddies, or sexually active but confirmed singledom.
Personally, I’m happiest in committed emotional relationships with at most two or three people, whether or not it involves sex. But I have plenty of friends who similarly aren’t the monogamous type, who don’t identify as polyamorous, and who are quite capable of being responsible and considerate of their sexual partners’ feelings and bodies. And then I have those weird and wonderful friends who are somewhere-in-between, being in honest, committed triples, quads etc, and still “playing the field.” Good on them, I say, if that’s what makes them happiest.
And yes, I have plenty of friends in exclusive, monogamous partnerships who are perfectly happy that way, and I’m perfectly happy for them too. I cry at their weddings and civil unions, I celebrate their engagement parties and anniversaries. There really is so much diversity out there, and it’s all beautiful. I wish everybody could see that.
* For more info about polyamory, see (among others):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v0SX6SILmDs
http://www.polyamoryonline.org/
http://www.polyamory.org/
DannyR
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Nihilism -- CHAFF 2008
I found a quote on the net somewhere that said nihilism is where you go when you can’t find anything to believe in.
According to Wikipedia it’s “the view that the world, and especially human existence, is without meaning, purpose, comprehensible truth, or essential value.” It’s often defined as belief in nothing, but from what I’ve read that’s not entirely true... we should say faith in nothing to be more accurate. Faith is a firm belief in something where there isn’t or can’t be any supporting evidence. Nihilists see faith as dangerous because when we’re relying on faith we aren’t using our faculties of common sense, reason and critical analysis. According to Nietzsche (you know him – the “God is dead” guy – life of the party), faith is simply “not wanting to know.”
Not wanting to know? Crazy, right? Well, yeah. But understandable maybe. Who wants to know anyway?? It’s a big scary world out there, it’s hard to understand sometimes, so of course most of us would rather just accept on faith whatever sounds like a fair explanation. It gets exhausting asking questions all the time and never having any certainty, and realistically, nobody’s going to be able to think through absolutely EVERY issue and read EVERY book. Especially in the modern Western nations. I’m not really surprised that in the most technologically advanced and modernized societies, like the USA, Australia and New Zealand, so many people believe in a cosmic zombie who communicates with them each individually by means of telepathy... our lives are a lot more sped up and full of stress and hassle in comparison to the rest of the world. We just don’t have the time to think things through.
Sometimes I think that if any of us could see how complicated the world really is it would be enough to drive us mad. But what the nihilists are getting at is that though it’s comforting to just think we know the answers without having to ask the questions, we’re fooling ourselves, and making things worse for ourselves and others in doing so. How? Well, let’s just pull a random example out of our collective arse, shall we? AIDS is killing thousands of people every day, and causes immeasurable human suffering, all around the world but especially in poorest nations. People get AIDS by becoming infected with HIV, most often through transmission of sexual fluids, and this can be prevented by using condoms during sex. There’s more to it than that, but that’s good enough for our purposes. We could fix the problem and alleviate a lot of the suffering if people wore the damn condoms, but faith has stuck its beak in and convinced a whole lot of those people that the father of the aforementioned cosmic zombie, who lives up in the sky and watches everything they do (the dirty perve) will throw them in a lake of fire to burn forever if they wear condoms when they fuck. And other well-meaning faithful people, mindful of the imperilled souls of those people in the populations where HIV is rampant, are kindly puncturing the condom packets before the poor sods even get them, just to be sure that no latex stands between souls and salvation. Faith makes us do dumb things, so nihilism begins to look like an attractive alternative. It’s the rejection of any belief that relies on faith, whether religious or secular.
Another defining characteristic of nihilism is the rejection of the idea that things have a final purpose. Nihilists believe everything is random, that there is no preordained final destination or revelation. In other words, you’re not going to heaven. It doesn’t exist and what’s more, it’s pointless to live your life in some sort of preparation for it. So go on, masturbate, get drunk, call your mother a herpes-riddled crack-whore... it doesn’t matter. You won’t get punished for it in the hereafter (though your mum might burn all your stuff and kick you out on the street). In a nutshell, nihilists reject the teleological arguments offered by most religions. Teleology is the idea that the universe functions a bit like a machine according to some sort of god-given plan or design, and it’s not restricted to the world of religion either. A common, almost sacred belief among people in the secular West is that you and your significant other were ‘made for each other,’ or if you haven’t got one at the moment, that she or he is out there somewhere waiting for you, that it’s ‘meant to be.’ Well the nihilists have got news for you... there was nothing inevitable about you finding that one particular person, there was no plan, no destiny, it was all just chance, and you only think it’s something magical and special because it feels nice, but you fail to see that you probably would have felt the same about almost anyone else. They might remind you ever so politely (or more likely, somewhat sharply) that everyone else is feeling something pretty similar for their own special-someone, you’re just too blind to see it, so shut the fuck up. Nihilists also reject Marxism, Buddhism, and any other set of beliefs that rely on teleology. There is no destiny, there can be no progress.
Nihilism is virtually synonymous with scepticism. There are two main branches: social or existential nihilism, and political nihilism. Let’s start with the existential variety. It’s passive, influenced by eastern philosophy and mysticism, and concerns itself primarily with isolation, human suffering and the futility and hopelessness of existence. It’s bloody depressing. Most people, when you mention nihilism, will think this is what you mean. In the face of all the meaninglessness and randomness, the only coping mechanism is detachment – just stop giving a shit. Don’t do anything for anyone, don’t bother with worthy causes, just don’t care, because ultimately it’s a waste of time.
Now, don’t confuse existential nihilism with depression, though that certainly follows on from it a lot of the time. Personally I’m inclined toward depression when I’m feeling worthless. When I ask someone out or let them know I’m interested and they say “Fuck no, I need space, I’m not ready for a relationship just now, you’re sweet and everything, let’s just be friends, STOP STALKING ME!!!”, I usually take it to me mean that I’m not tall enough, attractive enough, smart enough etc, and I inevitably begin saying to myself: “What’s the point in trying anyway, I may as well stay in my room, give up my hopes and get used to being by myself.” But kids, that’s not quite full blown existential nihilism, because I’m not saying that there’s no point in anyone trying to get laid, only that there’s no point in me trying. Important difference. Even at my most whiny and self-loathing, I would still agree that most people can and should try to find happiness in the whole love and romance thingy.
Political nihilism, the other main branch of nihilism, is active, revolutionary and at once destructive and creative. It’s about social structures and authority. Political nihilism states that things are in such a bad state that the only real option left to us is to smash them up, and whether or not we can rebuild we will at least have done some good. Being a political nihilist is about being in the here and now... rejecting all religious and philosophical debate and all the metaphysical circular reasoning that it ultimately leads to. It’s about challenging all the assumptions we base our values on, even equality and justice. There’s no future goal that we’re aiming for, no reformed society that’s more tolerant or diverse or equitable or prosperous, or at least no goal that’s more important than the present. It’s about realising there’s no life but this one, and making the most of it. It’s about taking responsibility..... if there’s no higher power then your success or failure is up to you, and you alone. Another nihilism quote I found sums it up nicely... “Each human life has the potential, but unless one strives to be a god, they are only a worm.” We can do anything... it’s up to us whether we repeat the patterns of our forbears, killing and subjugating each other for material gain and dominance and letting our masters profit at our expense, or whether we control our lives and reap the benefits for ourselves.
It’s true that nihilism, like anarchism, is usually equated with violence and terrorism, and there’s certainly historical justification. Nihilists generally reckon that violence is not inherent in their philosophies, but I’m inclined to think that if nihilism is your philosophy you’re more likely to be aggressive. Nihilists say there is nothing above man, there is no objective moral, ethical reality, but is that really the case? The argument can be made that we carry our moral absolutes with us, encoded into our brains. I think it’s genetic, we’ve survived as a species because we know instinctively how to interact with each other. We’re a social species, we have survived because we can cooperate, and we know, each of us, how to do this, how to avoid conflict. Something in our brains, other than fear of repercussions, tells us a behaviour is wrong. Why else, for instance, would all these religions around the world have come up with such basic moral tenets as don’t kill each other? Don’t torture people for fun?? And remember to put the trash out???
Just because there’s no ultimate point to anything, and even though nothing I actually accomplish is going to last forever, that doesn’t mean there’s no sense in doing it anyway, does it? In fact, doesn’t that make human endeavour a more precious and amazing thing? Think about it, out of all the randomness, out of all the meaninglessness, we are able to create something that has meaning for ourselves and others. That meaning might be quite arbitrary, we each might see the same thing quite differently, but isn’t that kind of beautiful in itself? There might not be any reason, in the big scheme of things, for me to get out there and make a noise about discrimination, pollution or the suffering of others, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it. It will mean something to me, I’ll be taking control, making something out of the nothingness, making the world what I want it to be. And maybe, just maybe, someone else will see the world the way I do.
And that’s meaning enough for me.
Danny Rudd
According to Wikipedia it’s “the view that the world, and especially human existence, is without meaning, purpose, comprehensible truth, or essential value.” It’s often defined as belief in nothing, but from what I’ve read that’s not entirely true... we should say faith in nothing to be more accurate. Faith is a firm belief in something where there isn’t or can’t be any supporting evidence. Nihilists see faith as dangerous because when we’re relying on faith we aren’t using our faculties of common sense, reason and critical analysis. According to Nietzsche (you know him – the “God is dead” guy – life of the party), faith is simply “not wanting to know.”
Not wanting to know? Crazy, right? Well, yeah. But understandable maybe. Who wants to know anyway?? It’s a big scary world out there, it’s hard to understand sometimes, so of course most of us would rather just accept on faith whatever sounds like a fair explanation. It gets exhausting asking questions all the time and never having any certainty, and realistically, nobody’s going to be able to think through absolutely EVERY issue and read EVERY book. Especially in the modern Western nations. I’m not really surprised that in the most technologically advanced and modernized societies, like the USA, Australia and New Zealand, so many people believe in a cosmic zombie who communicates with them each individually by means of telepathy... our lives are a lot more sped up and full of stress and hassle in comparison to the rest of the world. We just don’t have the time to think things through.
Sometimes I think that if any of us could see how complicated the world really is it would be enough to drive us mad. But what the nihilists are getting at is that though it’s comforting to just think we know the answers without having to ask the questions, we’re fooling ourselves, and making things worse for ourselves and others in doing so. How? Well, let’s just pull a random example out of our collective arse, shall we? AIDS is killing thousands of people every day, and causes immeasurable human suffering, all around the world but especially in poorest nations. People get AIDS by becoming infected with HIV, most often through transmission of sexual fluids, and this can be prevented by using condoms during sex. There’s more to it than that, but that’s good enough for our purposes. We could fix the problem and alleviate a lot of the suffering if people wore the damn condoms, but faith has stuck its beak in and convinced a whole lot of those people that the father of the aforementioned cosmic zombie, who lives up in the sky and watches everything they do (the dirty perve) will throw them in a lake of fire to burn forever if they wear condoms when they fuck. And other well-meaning faithful people, mindful of the imperilled souls of those people in the populations where HIV is rampant, are kindly puncturing the condom packets before the poor sods even get them, just to be sure that no latex stands between souls and salvation. Faith makes us do dumb things, so nihilism begins to look like an attractive alternative. It’s the rejection of any belief that relies on faith, whether religious or secular.
Another defining characteristic of nihilism is the rejection of the idea that things have a final purpose. Nihilists believe everything is random, that there is no preordained final destination or revelation. In other words, you’re not going to heaven. It doesn’t exist and what’s more, it’s pointless to live your life in some sort of preparation for it. So go on, masturbate, get drunk, call your mother a herpes-riddled crack-whore... it doesn’t matter. You won’t get punished for it in the hereafter (though your mum might burn all your stuff and kick you out on the street). In a nutshell, nihilists reject the teleological arguments offered by most religions. Teleology is the idea that the universe functions a bit like a machine according to some sort of god-given plan or design, and it’s not restricted to the world of religion either. A common, almost sacred belief among people in the secular West is that you and your significant other were ‘made for each other,’ or if you haven’t got one at the moment, that she or he is out there somewhere waiting for you, that it’s ‘meant to be.’ Well the nihilists have got news for you... there was nothing inevitable about you finding that one particular person, there was no plan, no destiny, it was all just chance, and you only think it’s something magical and special because it feels nice, but you fail to see that you probably would have felt the same about almost anyone else. They might remind you ever so politely (or more likely, somewhat sharply) that everyone else is feeling something pretty similar for their own special-someone, you’re just too blind to see it, so shut the fuck up. Nihilists also reject Marxism, Buddhism, and any other set of beliefs that rely on teleology. There is no destiny, there can be no progress.
Nihilism is virtually synonymous with scepticism. There are two main branches: social or existential nihilism, and political nihilism. Let’s start with the existential variety. It’s passive, influenced by eastern philosophy and mysticism, and concerns itself primarily with isolation, human suffering and the futility and hopelessness of existence. It’s bloody depressing. Most people, when you mention nihilism, will think this is what you mean. In the face of all the meaninglessness and randomness, the only coping mechanism is detachment – just stop giving a shit. Don’t do anything for anyone, don’t bother with worthy causes, just don’t care, because ultimately it’s a waste of time.
Now, don’t confuse existential nihilism with depression, though that certainly follows on from it a lot of the time. Personally I’m inclined toward depression when I’m feeling worthless. When I ask someone out or let them know I’m interested and they say “Fuck no, I need space, I’m not ready for a relationship just now, you’re sweet and everything, let’s just be friends, STOP STALKING ME!!!”, I usually take it to me mean that I’m not tall enough, attractive enough, smart enough etc, and I inevitably begin saying to myself: “What’s the point in trying anyway, I may as well stay in my room, give up my hopes and get used to being by myself.” But kids, that’s not quite full blown existential nihilism, because I’m not saying that there’s no point in anyone trying to get laid, only that there’s no point in me trying. Important difference. Even at my most whiny and self-loathing, I would still agree that most people can and should try to find happiness in the whole love and romance thingy.
Political nihilism, the other main branch of nihilism, is active, revolutionary and at once destructive and creative. It’s about social structures and authority. Political nihilism states that things are in such a bad state that the only real option left to us is to smash them up, and whether or not we can rebuild we will at least have done some good. Being a political nihilist is about being in the here and now... rejecting all religious and philosophical debate and all the metaphysical circular reasoning that it ultimately leads to. It’s about challenging all the assumptions we base our values on, even equality and justice. There’s no future goal that we’re aiming for, no reformed society that’s more tolerant or diverse or equitable or prosperous, or at least no goal that’s more important than the present. It’s about realising there’s no life but this one, and making the most of it. It’s about taking responsibility..... if there’s no higher power then your success or failure is up to you, and you alone. Another nihilism quote I found sums it up nicely... “Each human life has the potential, but unless one strives to be a god, they are only a worm.” We can do anything... it’s up to us whether we repeat the patterns of our forbears, killing and subjugating each other for material gain and dominance and letting our masters profit at our expense, or whether we control our lives and reap the benefits for ourselves.
It’s true that nihilism, like anarchism, is usually equated with violence and terrorism, and there’s certainly historical justification. Nihilists generally reckon that violence is not inherent in their philosophies, but I’m inclined to think that if nihilism is your philosophy you’re more likely to be aggressive. Nihilists say there is nothing above man, there is no objective moral, ethical reality, but is that really the case? The argument can be made that we carry our moral absolutes with us, encoded into our brains. I think it’s genetic, we’ve survived as a species because we know instinctively how to interact with each other. We’re a social species, we have survived because we can cooperate, and we know, each of us, how to do this, how to avoid conflict. Something in our brains, other than fear of repercussions, tells us a behaviour is wrong. Why else, for instance, would all these religions around the world have come up with such basic moral tenets as don’t kill each other? Don’t torture people for fun?? And remember to put the trash out???
Just because there’s no ultimate point to anything, and even though nothing I actually accomplish is going to last forever, that doesn’t mean there’s no sense in doing it anyway, does it? In fact, doesn’t that make human endeavour a more precious and amazing thing? Think about it, out of all the randomness, out of all the meaninglessness, we are able to create something that has meaning for ourselves and others. That meaning might be quite arbitrary, we each might see the same thing quite differently, but isn’t that kind of beautiful in itself? There might not be any reason, in the big scheme of things, for me to get out there and make a noise about discrimination, pollution or the suffering of others, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it. It will mean something to me, I’ll be taking control, making something out of the nothingness, making the world what I want it to be. And maybe, just maybe, someone else will see the world the way I do.
And that’s meaning enough for me.
Danny Rudd
Saturday, May 17, 2008
CHAFF Review -- The Spanish Apartment (L'Auberge Espagnole)
Starring Romain Duris, Judith Godreche.
Grade A
L’Auberge Espagnole is a 2002 French film by director Cedric Klapisch, who I really don’t expect anyone reading this to have heard of before… I certainly hadn’t. To be honest, I was somewhat less than enthused at the prospect of watching the dvd when a friend of mine brought it over, but given that his other choices looked even less my sort of thing, being largely of the romantic-comedy variety, I thought I might as well give it a go.
I’m not scared of subtitles. I’ve seen French films before, some of which I really enjoyed, such as The City of Lost Children, The Closet and Amelie, but from the DVD case I had that sinking feeling I was really not going to get into this one. Sure enough, I found the first few minutes utterly tedious and headache-inducing, with the film’s gloomy lighting, weird sped-up bits and bland lead character. But I held in there, and I’m glad I did.
The basic premise: Xavier is an Economics grad student in Paris, who is offered a job with the government if he will go on the Erasmus student exchange programme to complete his studies in Madrid and learn Spanish. At the airport, he leaves behind his over-attentive mother and his needy and manipulative girlfriend, Martine, and, having never left Paris before, finds himself feeling utterly alone for the first time in his life. What does any such self-respecting young man do in these circumstances? Why, cry on the plane, of course. Cry like a little bitch.
While he’s shamelessly bawling his froggy eyes out, he is noticed by a very pretty young woman, which just goes to show that being a sensitive young man (read: a spoilt prat) has it’s good points, but he’s so busy wallowing in angst that he doesn’t see her checking him out. Never fear, the plane touches down in Madrid and Xavier disembarks, and who should be standing next to him at the luggage collection point but the pretty girl from the plane. Great! Except that her husband is there too.
The husband, who seems more than a bit creepy, has a job in the city, and he’s brought his lovely young wife Anne-Sophie to Madrid to be with him. He offers Xavier a sofa to crash on until he finds somewhere to stay, and Xavier accepts, perhaps finally noticing that the other guy’s wife is a bit of all right (Oh, those humorously amoral Frenchies…) You can tell where this is going. Xavier starts the semester, finds a room to let in the titular Spanish apartment, and to no one’s great surprise, starts shtupping Anne-Sophie behind her husband’s back. All very predictable. All very French.
It’s once Xavier has moved into the apartment that the pace picks up and the movie becomes genuinely enjoyable. It’s a small, crummy place, and he has to share it with English, American, French, Belgian, Italian, German, and Scandinavian students, who are all likewise on exchange programmes. The contrast is incredible. Suddenly, away from the cold, grey dreariness of Paris, we’re confronted with all the vivid colour, music and clutter of Madrid. The film becomes a dizzying blur of energy, excitement and entertaining characters, the flatmates switching back and forth between languages effortlessly, super-charging each other with their endless banter and laughter. It’s impossible not to get swept away in it, and this is exactly what happens to Xavier. Despite his initial clumsiness with the different languages in the household, he finds himself being melted down and reforged, becoming more confident of himself and his decisions and appreciative of difference and diversity.
This film is called Pot Luck in its English release, and has also gone by the title Euro Pudding internationally. While it focuses on the experience of Xavier in his new environment, it’s not hard to see that at its core this is a film about identity – specifically, national identity within the new European Union, which understandably weighs heavily on the minds of Europeans these days. Klapisch is clearly excited and optimistic about the potential for growth and increased understanding that the Union brings, and this shows in his treatment of the household dynamics in this film. Here is a group of diverse young people from very different backgrounds, learning from each other, enjoying each other’s languages, cultures and lives, occasionally fighting amongst themselves but ultimately being there for each other when it counts. And the message isn’t confined to national diversity either, it transcends gender, sexuality, age and race. It doesn’t come across as preachy or self-righteous, what you come away with is a palpable sense of excitement.
The film’s initial gloominess is in fact intentional, it serves to drive home the message, that life is chaotic, colourful, and confusing, but it’s out there to be lived and experienced, and you only get out of it what you put in. Go find it.
Danny Rudd
Grade A
L’Auberge Espagnole is a 2002 French film by director Cedric Klapisch, who I really don’t expect anyone reading this to have heard of before… I certainly hadn’t. To be honest, I was somewhat less than enthused at the prospect of watching the dvd when a friend of mine brought it over, but given that his other choices looked even less my sort of thing, being largely of the romantic-comedy variety, I thought I might as well give it a go.
I’m not scared of subtitles. I’ve seen French films before, some of which I really enjoyed, such as The City of Lost Children, The Closet and Amelie, but from the DVD case I had that sinking feeling I was really not going to get into this one. Sure enough, I found the first few minutes utterly tedious and headache-inducing, with the film’s gloomy lighting, weird sped-up bits and bland lead character. But I held in there, and I’m glad I did.
The basic premise: Xavier is an Economics grad student in Paris, who is offered a job with the government if he will go on the Erasmus student exchange programme to complete his studies in Madrid and learn Spanish. At the airport, he leaves behind his over-attentive mother and his needy and manipulative girlfriend, Martine, and, having never left Paris before, finds himself feeling utterly alone for the first time in his life. What does any such self-respecting young man do in these circumstances? Why, cry on the plane, of course. Cry like a little bitch.
While he’s shamelessly bawling his froggy eyes out, he is noticed by a very pretty young woman, which just goes to show that being a sensitive young man (read: a spoilt prat) has it’s good points, but he’s so busy wallowing in angst that he doesn’t see her checking him out. Never fear, the plane touches down in Madrid and Xavier disembarks, and who should be standing next to him at the luggage collection point but the pretty girl from the plane. Great! Except that her husband is there too.
The husband, who seems more than a bit creepy, has a job in the city, and he’s brought his lovely young wife Anne-Sophie to Madrid to be with him. He offers Xavier a sofa to crash on until he finds somewhere to stay, and Xavier accepts, perhaps finally noticing that the other guy’s wife is a bit of all right (Oh, those humorously amoral Frenchies…) You can tell where this is going. Xavier starts the semester, finds a room to let in the titular Spanish apartment, and to no one’s great surprise, starts shtupping Anne-Sophie behind her husband’s back. All very predictable. All very French.
It’s once Xavier has moved into the apartment that the pace picks up and the movie becomes genuinely enjoyable. It’s a small, crummy place, and he has to share it with English, American, French, Belgian, Italian, German, and Scandinavian students, who are all likewise on exchange programmes. The contrast is incredible. Suddenly, away from the cold, grey dreariness of Paris, we’re confronted with all the vivid colour, music and clutter of Madrid. The film becomes a dizzying blur of energy, excitement and entertaining characters, the flatmates switching back and forth between languages effortlessly, super-charging each other with their endless banter and laughter. It’s impossible not to get swept away in it, and this is exactly what happens to Xavier. Despite his initial clumsiness with the different languages in the household, he finds himself being melted down and reforged, becoming more confident of himself and his decisions and appreciative of difference and diversity.
This film is called Pot Luck in its English release, and has also gone by the title Euro Pudding internationally. While it focuses on the experience of Xavier in his new environment, it’s not hard to see that at its core this is a film about identity – specifically, national identity within the new European Union, which understandably weighs heavily on the minds of Europeans these days. Klapisch is clearly excited and optimistic about the potential for growth and increased understanding that the Union brings, and this shows in his treatment of the household dynamics in this film. Here is a group of diverse young people from very different backgrounds, learning from each other, enjoying each other’s languages, cultures and lives, occasionally fighting amongst themselves but ultimately being there for each other when it counts. And the message isn’t confined to national diversity either, it transcends gender, sexuality, age and race. It doesn’t come across as preachy or self-righteous, what you come away with is a palpable sense of excitement.
The film’s initial gloominess is in fact intentional, it serves to drive home the message, that life is chaotic, colourful, and confusing, but it’s out there to be lived and experienced, and you only get out of it what you put in. Go find it.
Danny Rudd
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Being Intersex -- Deviant, CHAFF 2007
Alice, from Holland, has Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome (AIS)
Alice has XY chromosomes, which is the norm for males, as opposed to XX for females. When she was 17, Alice went to the doctor to find out why she still hadn't got her first period. He sent her on to a hospital for a test. As the test was being administered, she saw the technician frown; he said that the machine didn't seem to be working, and they had better move to another room and try another machine. Again, there seemed to be something wrong.
The technician left the room to call a doctor. The doctor looked at the machine, frowned too, and then did an internal check up. What he found was nothing. In Alice's body, he found no womb, no uterus, no ovaries. Nothing. It was only then that Alice discovered she had AIS. Although she has XY chromosomes, being insensitive to testosterone, she developed in a female direction. Complete AIS means that the person will look absolutely female from the outside. However AIS is only one of about 75 different intersex conditions.
What is intersex?
Intersex people are born with external genitalia, internal reproductive organs, and/or endocrine system that are different from most other people. There is no single "intersex body"; it encompasses a wide variety of conditions that do not have anything in common except that they are deemed "abnormal" by the society. What makes intersex people similar is their experiences of medicalization, not biology. Intersex is not an identity. While some intersex people do reclaim it as part of their identity, it is not a freely chosen category of gender - it can only be reclaimed. Most intersex people identify as men or women, just like everybody else.
Are intersex conditions harmful?
In general, intersex conditions do not cause the person to feel sick or in pain. However, some intersex conditions are associated with serious health issues, which need to be treated medically. Surgically "correcting" the appearance of intersex genitals will not change these underlying medical needs.
How common are intersex conditions?
No one knows exactly how many children are born with intersex conditions because of the secrecy and deception surrounding it, and also because there are no concrete boundaries to the definition of "intersex." It is nonetheless estimated that about one in 2,000 children are born visibly intersex, prompting early intervention. It is estimated that approximately 30 babies are born each year in New Zealand with indeterminate sexual organs.
Can't they just do a test to find out babies' true sex?
Medicine cannot determine the baby's "true sex." For example, chromosomes do not necessarily dictate one's gender identity, as it is obvious from the fact that most people born with androgen insensitivity syndrome live as women despite their XY chromosomes. In other words: science can measure how large a clitoris is, but cannot conclude how large or small it needs to be. That is a social determination.
How do we know the correct gender of a child with an intersex condition?
In most cases the decision is made by parents and doctors when the child is an infant, based on their best prediction, and this is followed by repeated genital surgery, ongoing hormonal and psychological treatment, and socialisation in the assigned gender. The extent to which such intervention is necessary for the child's physical and mental health, or whether it is both physiologically and psychologically harmful, remains a contentious issue. It is however recommended that the child be assigned a gender, and allowed to determine for himself or herself once he or she is old enough to do so. Irreversible surgeries on infants should be avoided in order to give them the widest range of choices when they are older. Performing surgeries will not eliminate the possibility that our prediction is wrong.
What is the correct pronoun for intersex people?
Pronouns should not be based on the shape of one's genitalia, but on what the person prefers to be called. For children too young to communicate what her/his preference is, go with the gender assignment parents and doctor agreed on based on their best prediction. Do not call intersex children "it": that is dehumanizing.
Are there five sexes?
The notion of "five sexes" was popularized by Anne Fausto-Sterling's article "The Five Sexes: Why Male and Female Are Not Enough" published in 1993. In this largely tongue-in-cheek piece, she wrote that three subcategories among "intersex" should be considered as three additional sexes aside from male and female. Unfortunately, the "five sexes" theory does not help people with intersex conditions. Fausto-Sterling later wrote in "Sexing the Body" (2000) that she was "no longer advocating" these categories, "even tongue-in-cheek".
Are intersex people "third gender"?
Many people with intersex conditions identify solidly as a man or as a woman, like many non-intersex people. There are some who identify as a member of an alternative gender, like some non-intersex people. While everyone has a right to define his or her own identities, people with intersex conditions should not be expected to be gender-transgressive just because of their condition.
Is intersex part of the trans community?
While some people with intersex conditions also identify as trans, intersex people as a group have a unique set of needs and priorities beyond those shared with trans people. Too often, these unique needs are made invisible or secondary when "intersex" becomes a subcategory of "transgender". For example, people who discuss about intersex in the context of transgender often stress the risk of assigning a "wrong" gender as an argument against intersex genital mutilation, which overlooks the fact that intersex medical treatment is painful and traumatic whether or not one's gender identity happens to match her or his assigned gender. It is for this reason that intersex people prefer to have "intersex" spelled out explicitly rather than have it included in the "transgender" umbrella.
What is the difference between "hermaphrodite" and "intersex"?
In biology, "hermaphrodite" means an organism that has both male and female sets of reproductive organs (like snails and earthworms). In humans, there are no actual hermaphrodites in this sense, although doctors have called people with intersex conditions hermaphrodites because intersex bodies do not neatly conform to what doctors define as the "normal" male or female bodies. The word "hermaphrodite" is misleading, mythologizing, and stigmatizing. Although some intersex activists do reclaim and use this term to describe themselves, it is not an appropriate term to refer to intersex people in general. In short, snails are the hermaphrodites; humans are not. Also, please avoid using the word "intersexual" as a noun; it is preferable to say, "intersex people" or "people with intersex conditions/experiences."
“Gender is really outdated. You might say that we're very much wired as a society to believe that there's only 2 answers ... gender isn't just male or female. There's a plethora of options between, why do we have to stick with one or the other? It's not a yes/no binary question. It's like asking someone from Canada, "Do you live in Montreal or Quebec?" with absolutely no expectation of any other answer - it's completely ridiculous.”
DannyR, Trysha E'Layne Kaneko
Alice has XY chromosomes, which is the norm for males, as opposed to XX for females. When she was 17, Alice went to the doctor to find out why she still hadn't got her first period. He sent her on to a hospital for a test. As the test was being administered, she saw the technician frown; he said that the machine didn't seem to be working, and they had better move to another room and try another machine. Again, there seemed to be something wrong.
The technician left the room to call a doctor. The doctor looked at the machine, frowned too, and then did an internal check up. What he found was nothing. In Alice's body, he found no womb, no uterus, no ovaries. Nothing. It was only then that Alice discovered she had AIS. Although she has XY chromosomes, being insensitive to testosterone, she developed in a female direction. Complete AIS means that the person will look absolutely female from the outside. However AIS is only one of about 75 different intersex conditions.
What is intersex?
Intersex people are born with external genitalia, internal reproductive organs, and/or endocrine system that are different from most other people. There is no single "intersex body"; it encompasses a wide variety of conditions that do not have anything in common except that they are deemed "abnormal" by the society. What makes intersex people similar is their experiences of medicalization, not biology. Intersex is not an identity. While some intersex people do reclaim it as part of their identity, it is not a freely chosen category of gender - it can only be reclaimed. Most intersex people identify as men or women, just like everybody else.
Are intersex conditions harmful?
In general, intersex conditions do not cause the person to feel sick or in pain. However, some intersex conditions are associated with serious health issues, which need to be treated medically. Surgically "correcting" the appearance of intersex genitals will not change these underlying medical needs.
How common are intersex conditions?
No one knows exactly how many children are born with intersex conditions because of the secrecy and deception surrounding it, and also because there are no concrete boundaries to the definition of "intersex." It is nonetheless estimated that about one in 2,000 children are born visibly intersex, prompting early intervention. It is estimated that approximately 30 babies are born each year in New Zealand with indeterminate sexual organs.
Can't they just do a test to find out babies' true sex?
Medicine cannot determine the baby's "true sex." For example, chromosomes do not necessarily dictate one's gender identity, as it is obvious from the fact that most people born with androgen insensitivity syndrome live as women despite their XY chromosomes. In other words: science can measure how large a clitoris is, but cannot conclude how large or small it needs to be. That is a social determination.
How do we know the correct gender of a child with an intersex condition?
In most cases the decision is made by parents and doctors when the child is an infant, based on their best prediction, and this is followed by repeated genital surgery, ongoing hormonal and psychological treatment, and socialisation in the assigned gender. The extent to which such intervention is necessary for the child's physical and mental health, or whether it is both physiologically and psychologically harmful, remains a contentious issue. It is however recommended that the child be assigned a gender, and allowed to determine for himself or herself once he or she is old enough to do so. Irreversible surgeries on infants should be avoided in order to give them the widest range of choices when they are older. Performing surgeries will not eliminate the possibility that our prediction is wrong.
What is the correct pronoun for intersex people?
Pronouns should not be based on the shape of one's genitalia, but on what the person prefers to be called. For children too young to communicate what her/his preference is, go with the gender assignment parents and doctor agreed on based on their best prediction. Do not call intersex children "it": that is dehumanizing.
Are there five sexes?
The notion of "five sexes" was popularized by Anne Fausto-Sterling's article "The Five Sexes: Why Male and Female Are Not Enough" published in 1993. In this largely tongue-in-cheek piece, she wrote that three subcategories among "intersex" should be considered as three additional sexes aside from male and female. Unfortunately, the "five sexes" theory does not help people with intersex conditions. Fausto-Sterling later wrote in "Sexing the Body" (2000) that she was "no longer advocating" these categories, "even tongue-in-cheek".
Are intersex people "third gender"?
Many people with intersex conditions identify solidly as a man or as a woman, like many non-intersex people. There are some who identify as a member of an alternative gender, like some non-intersex people. While everyone has a right to define his or her own identities, people with intersex conditions should not be expected to be gender-transgressive just because of their condition.
Is intersex part of the trans community?
While some people with intersex conditions also identify as trans, intersex people as a group have a unique set of needs and priorities beyond those shared with trans people. Too often, these unique needs are made invisible or secondary when "intersex" becomes a subcategory of "transgender". For example, people who discuss about intersex in the context of transgender often stress the risk of assigning a "wrong" gender as an argument against intersex genital mutilation, which overlooks the fact that intersex medical treatment is painful and traumatic whether or not one's gender identity happens to match her or his assigned gender. It is for this reason that intersex people prefer to have "intersex" spelled out explicitly rather than have it included in the "transgender" umbrella.
What is the difference between "hermaphrodite" and "intersex"?
In biology, "hermaphrodite" means an organism that has both male and female sets of reproductive organs (like snails and earthworms). In humans, there are no actual hermaphrodites in this sense, although doctors have called people with intersex conditions hermaphrodites because intersex bodies do not neatly conform to what doctors define as the "normal" male or female bodies. The word "hermaphrodite" is misleading, mythologizing, and stigmatizing. Although some intersex activists do reclaim and use this term to describe themselves, it is not an appropriate term to refer to intersex people in general. In short, snails are the hermaphrodites; humans are not. Also, please avoid using the word "intersexual" as a noun; it is preferable to say, "intersex people" or "people with intersex conditions/experiences."
“Gender is really outdated. You might say that we're very much wired as a society to believe that there's only 2 answers ... gender isn't just male or female. There's a plethora of options between, why do we have to stick with one or the other? It's not a yes/no binary question. It's like asking someone from Canada, "Do you live in Montreal or Quebec?" with absolutely no expectation of any other answer - it's completely ridiculous.”
DannyR, Trysha E'Layne Kaneko
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Science vs Religion
Heart
I guess I just care too much...