tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65001729205349583592024-02-20T18:25:23.734+08:00prized and revileddelectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-20110313045381015302012-12-10T14:24:00.000+08:002012-12-11T00:41:52.112+08:00The sex work activist at the live export rally: an explanation (not an apology)<br />
A few weeks ago, I attended <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UM5KvyaKpDo" target="_blank">this </a>live export counter-rally.<br />
<br />
I didn't just attend it. I promoted it online, hand-delivered flyers to local businesses, helped unload the utes and had beers before and after with the organiser and his family. I supported it, wholeheartedly.<br />
<br />
And it was AWESOME. People just kept pouring in, individually and by the busload. They brought their kids, their dogs, their friends and extended families. Many travelled thousands of kilometres to be there. Those who couldn't attend, from all around Australia, sent us messages of solidarity and support. As a group, we chatted, we laughed, we ate BBQ sausages and played that uniquely country game of tell-me-your-grandfather's-surname-and-we'll-count-the-degrees-of-separation. But beneath the fun and frivolity, there was a more serious common goal: to speak up and have our voices heard.<br />
<br />
Reaction to the rally by some in the mainstream media was predictable. While there was some great coverage, particularly by smaller and/or rural publications, others painted the country participants as thugs and the front page of The West featured a pic of the only (five-second) scuffle of the day involving farmers. The WA Farmers Federation was interviewed repeatedly, though they had nothing to do with the organising, to draw the focus away from families and individuals and more towards 'corporations' and 'peak bodies'. Numbers on the Ban Live Export side were inflated and ours were grossly underestimated. Sadly, none of that was surprising.<br />
<br />
What WAS surprising was the reaction I got from Twitter.<br />
<br />
From the moment I started talking about the rally, I started losing followers. On the morning of the rally, I posted a warning that I would be live-tweeting it for the next couple of hours and uninterested people might want to mute the #hadagutful hashtag. I was careful to hashtag every tweet so none could accidentally slip past people's filters. That I felt the need to do that is telling in itself.<br />
<br />
But instead of muting a couple of brief hours of photo-posting, people - some of whom had followed and chatted with me as friends for years - started BLOCKING me. In droves. It was hard to tell how many I was losing on the day, because the live-tweeting was also gaining me new followers, but once I got home and had the chance to check, I was genuinely upset to see some of the names in my 'recently unfollowed' list.<br />
<br />
Upset, and to be honest, stunned. You see, the majority of people I have relationships with on Twitter are 'bleeding heart lefties', drawn together by our shared passion for social justice. Not all of them vote 'left', mind you. Many of them are conservative voters. But they mostly subscribe to small-L liberal social values, including compassion and understanding for marginalised communities like refugees, sex workers, Indigenous peoples, the queer community, people living with HIV, etc. They fight for the rights of these various groups to be heard, especially in the political arena, on the basis that EVERYONE deserves to be involved in policy that will ultimately affect their lives and/or livelihoods, no matter how 'unpopular' that group is with voters.<br />
<br />
Everyone, it seems, except farmers.<br />
<br />
The first comments I got about the rally photos were that most of the placards focused on profits. Farmers need to turn profits in order to stay in business. Rural businesses need farmers to turn profits so they continue to inject money into the local economy. Country towns need rural businesses to turn profits, OR THEY DIE. This is essentially why the rally was held in the first place - to keep our country communities alive - so yes, many of the signs focused on profits. The automatic response to this fact (by a complete stranger on Twitter) was that farmers are "greedy whiners" and all they care about is money.<br />
<br />
I. DON'T. GET. IT.<br />
<br />
Twitter (with support from me) has railed against public service retrenchments and fought for increased wages for police, nurses and teachers. Is that not about money? Is that not outrage at pulling people's incomes out from under them and/or supporting a profession's right to fight for better conditions? WHY DOES THE SAME NOT APPLY TO FARMERS? On the evening of the rally, a prominent WA union representative tweeted her opposition to the farmers' actions. What the hell? A group of workers from a specific industry get together to save their livelihoods and demand input into policy and the union condemns it?! It's this kind of double-standard that really shocked me - from the union, from social justice activists and from individuals who belong to other marginalised communities.<br />
<br />
I am a country girl. I'm a farmer's daughter: born and raised, and currently living, in a wheat and sheep town. I'm passionate about rural health and education (or lack thereof), about govt spending on regional infrastructure (or lack thereof) and about rural representation in Parliament (you know the drill).<br />
<br />
But people who know me will know that my primary passion is sex worker rights. It's hard to imagine two issues more completely unrelated than sex work and live export, but the politics of them are almost identical. In fact, I can give you two identical examples that were triggered by the very same TV show.<br />
<br />
Last year, ABC's Four Corners did a sex trafficking piece on Australia's '<a href="http://prizedandreviled.blogspot.com.au/2011/10/exposing-flesh-trade-aka-sensationalist_10.html" target="_blank">flesh trade</a>'. It was a sensationalist piece of rubbish, with the creators refusing to interview primary stakeholders, preferring instead to rely on 'pity-porn' imagery, myths and stereotypes to incite 'moral outrage'. And incite moral outrage, it did. The public took one peek into a world they have NO understanding of, saw manipulated images of a worst case scenario, and immediately screamed BAN IT. Legislators responded to public demand, launching reviews and promising to 'crack down' on sex work. When sex workers and sex industry business owners attempted to speak out and say THESE CHANGES WILL ONLY MAKE THINGS WORSE, they were accused of bias (and dismissed) due to their 'personal agenda' and 'financial interest'.<br />
<br />
A couple of months before, Four Corners had '<a href="http://www.abc.net.au/4corners/content/2011/s3228880.htm" target="_blank">exposed</a>' another industry: Australia's live exporters. It followed exactly the same formula - avoid facts and stakeholders, show emotive imagery of worst case scenario - and had exactly the same results. Moral outrage ensued. The public peeked into a world they have NO understanding of, found it distasteful and screamed BAN IT. Legislators jumped to it, imposed temporary bans and started developing policy to 'crack down' on the industry. Farmers and exporters who again tried to say THESE CHANGES WILL ONLY MAKE THINGS WORSE were again dismissed as having a personal agenda and financial interest.<br />
<br />
On both issues, the voices of primary stakeholders are being actively silenced. On both issues, people with precisely ZERO knowledge of the respective industries are driving policy changes and 'moral outrage' is driving community support. And on both issues, people whose personal belief systems are offended by the subject matter are flatly refusing to even ACKNOWLEDGE the other side of the story, let alone listen to it.<br />
<br />
I get that some people have an unshakeable position on sex work/live export. I get that some people find the act of selling sex/eating animals morally reprehensible. I get that some people want to 'help' sex workers/livestock that are 'trapped' in what they see as hideous situations. You believe what you believe for your own reasons and it's not my place to question that. But NONE of that negates a sex worker/farmer's right to speak out about their own experiences and influence policy that will otherwise have negative consequences for their lives and livelihoods. Argue with them all you like, but you have no right to silence them.<br />
<br />
And yeah, I kind of see blocking tweets by someone politely presenting an alternative view as an act of silencing. They deliberately turned their backs on a group of people fighting for their own survival and demonstrated not only that they were unwilling to hear the other side of the story, but that they had made that decision based on stereotypes and misinformation. This became glaringly obvious in the number of times I've since been misrepresented as not caring about the welfare of animals. Just as supporters of sex workers are accused of being 'pro-pimp' and unsympathetic to victims of trafficking, supporters of farmers are accused of being pro-profits and unsympathetic to animals harmed in the process.<br />
<br />
I support abortion rights. That doesn't mean I run around singing "Yay, abortion! Abortion is awesome!" Same goes for live export. I'm not shouting from the rooftops that live export is awesome. I don't 'like' the idea of long trips on ships or animals being slaughtered any more than I 'like' the idea of terminating a life before it even begins. But I firmly believe that policy should be informed by FACTS and I know that in every case where legislation has been driven by moral panic and knee-jerk reactions, it has consistently proven to CAUSE more problems than it solves.<br />
<br />
I will continue to support both these 'unpopular' causes, because there ARE problems that need to be addressed in sex work and in agriculture, but those problems will not be addressed with bans, nor by the active exclusion of primary stakeholders.<br />
<br />
Both sex workers and farmers are in a position to change their industries from the inside. We should be empowering them to do that, not tying their hands.<br />
<br />
<br />
----------------------------------------------<br />
I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Michael (follow @farmersway on Twitter and/or his <a href="http://farmerswayoflife.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">blog</a>) who has been FAR too modest in describing his involvement with the live export counter-rally and the fight for farmers' rights in general.<br />
<br />
The rally was his baby. He sparked a passion in rural Western Australians that saw people driving thousands of kilometres to attend. He sparked a passion in ALL rural people that resulted in hundreds of messages of interstate and international support. He reminded us that we are a COMMUNITY, separated by distance but united by shared trials and tribulations. The passion, pride and connection that I felt amongst the people at the rally, and the supporters online, is something I will never forget. The video still gives me goosebumps.<br />
<br />
Michael is just one farmer, trying to find common ground and ways to connect with the 'outside world', to tell them we're here, to share our experiences, to ask them to understand us. And that one farmer started a movement. I just want him to know that he is an inspiration and that I'm so very proud to be able to call him my friend. x<br />
<br />
<br />delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-16741775646349170672012-10-09T22:42:00.000+08:002012-10-09T22:42:57.248+08:00Parenting choices are important<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Today the Labor Govt committed to ending special
arrangements for grandfathered Parenting Payment recipients and putting them on
Newstart, bringing them into line with the rest of Australia’s single parents,
who were forced onto the dole back in 2006. It was Howard policy that passed
with comparatively little fanfare – probably because it happened pre-Twitter and
who can even remember life pre-Twitter?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">It was a low blow from Howard, using some of Australia’s
most vulnerable families to make a point (WIMMINS SHOULD BE MARRIED, OK?) and
win votes. I can’t help feeling that in endorsing Howard’s policy, it’s an even
lower blow from Gillard. Them being the party of the Fair Go and all.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">This sole parent smackdown caught Twitter’s attention today
and my feed was full of comments about single mums – most supportive, some
bordering on reprehensible. I didn't have the time or patience to argue about
it on Twitter, but now my fury is threatening to boil over, so I’d better blurt
it here before I make a mess of the curtains.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Before I do, just a little pre-emptive strike on the
knobjockeys who try to belittle and shame me into silence whenever I raise this
issue. Last time’s favourite was “This from a single mum with Foxtel and a PS3.
I don’t have that and I WORK for a living”. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">This idea that poor people don’t deserve to enjoy small
luxuries is another rant for another day, as is the automatic assumption that
anyone who identifies as a single parent must be on welfare.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">I do, however, want to clarify up front that I am NOT ON THE
PENSION and haven’t been for some time. I don’t even qualify for Rent
Assistance. If I want to spend my wages on Foxtel and Playstation games (the
console was a gift, if you must know), I will. And quite frankly, if I’d wanted
to spend my welfare payments on Foxtel and Playstation games, I would have had
every damn right to do so.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">So yeah, this issue actually has no direct bearing on my
life any more, so by all means go ahead and disagree or argue with me, but
don’t bother with the “OMG YOU’RE SO ENTITLED, GET A JOB YOU LAZY SLAPPER”
routine. Kthx.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">That said, I've been a single parent for most of the past 20
years and spent a lot of time on the pension. Like many single parents, I was usually
working and getting a part payment, or being cut off while things were good and
falling back on it when money got tight. A few times when the shit really hit
the fan, it was my only income for extended periods. I was one of the
‘grandfathered’ recipients they’re talking about at the moment, until a few months
of short-term, high-paid work saw my pension cancelled and when the work ended
and I tried to go back, I was put onto Newstart instead.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">The changes had a pretty big impact on my family, most
notably on the choices available to me. Or lack, thereof. In the grand scheme of things, I didn't get
that much money out of the pension. I've probably paid as much in tax and if
not, I certainly will have covered my share by the time they cart me off in a
box. The reduction in payments will really hurt single parents, but this isn't just about the money. The pension was a safety net that I had always relied on,
empowering me to make the best decisions for my family. Single parents no
longer have those options.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">There are sooo many things I want to rant about right now,
but I’ll try to focus on two comments that repeatedly appeared in my feed
today. This will end up wordy enough, without going off on tangents.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">“They can still sit at
home until their child turns eight...”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">I'm going to ignore the ‘parents of young children just sit
on their arses and do nothing’ dog whistle and move straight on to the bigger
problem with this statement: Not all single parents are single when they give
birth.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Ok, so if I give birth to my first child while I'm single, I
can go on the pension and have eight years to start planning for my future
(actually, it’s six years, because Mutual Obligation kicks in when they start
school). I can sign up for some study (if I can afford it), or maybe do a bit
of volunteer work, to improve my chances of employment later. I can start or go
back to paid work, safe in the knowledge that if I find I can’t juggle a job
and small children, I have a safety net to fall back on and my family won’t
starve. Or I can just focus on motherhood and enjoy taking my youngster to the
park. ALL OF THESE OPTIONS ARE GOOD FOR KIDS. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Hey, you never know, I might even find myself a partner
before then and not have to worry about this at all – six years is a long time.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">But that’s not how it works for most single parents. For starters,
the overwhelming majority of sole parents were married or defacto when their
kids were born. Why is that important? Because they become single parents at later
stages in their child’s development and under wildly diverse conditions.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Let’s say, for example, a woman with two children aged 12
and eight. She’s been married for fifteen years and a stay-at-home mum for
nearly thirteen of them. She has no recent education or employment history. She doesn't qualify for the Parenting Payment. She has to go on the dole and start looking for work and/or studying. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">After a fifteen year marriage, she’s going to be
experiencing some serious heartache and her children will likely be acting out
in ways that can be very difficult to manage. She may be escaping domestic abuse
and dealing with stalking or threats of violence. She may be going through a
messy divorce, which can also lead to a loss of friends or family support. She
may be left struggling with ‘sexually transmitted debt’. She may be moving
house, possibly to an entirely new and unfamiliar area. The family vehicle,
furniture, etc may have belonged to her ex. If she’s renting, she WILL be
battling massive discrimination in housing and likely can’t afford the bond,
anyway…</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">In the past, the sole parent pension provided breathing
space for people in these situations, right up until their kids were sixteen.
Not any more. If their youngest child is over six, they are expected to gather
their shit and become a functioning member of society immediately, with no time
to reflect, plan, deal with trauma, or settle their new family unit into a new
rhythm. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">There are eleventy billion valid reasons why a newly single
parent can’t, and shouldn't be expected to, immediately get a job. In these
circumstances, even those who HAVE a job at separation might need to quit in
order to deal with everything. Some might be able to arrange extended leave and
go back later, but how many of us are lucky enough to have that sort of
flexibility? And what if your field is not the sort of thing you can go back to
as a sole parent, like jobs requiring long periods away from home? Suddenly
your work history means nothing and you’re starting all over again like a
highschool leaver.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Which brings me to the second comment…</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">“There’s no reason why
someone with school age children can’t get a job”.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Aside from all the reasons listed above, there are a bunch
of other reasons why single parents can’t just pop out and get a job,
including:</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">- LACK OF JOBS. Kind of a fundamental problem, amirite? Most
people these days are underemployed - it’s tough to find anything more than casual,
part time, or short-term work. That might sound ideal for single parents, but it's not always the case, due to…</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">- THE WAY CENTRELINK PAYMENTS ARE STRUCTURED. You only have
to earn a tiny bit of money p/fortnight before your benefits start getting
docked. Pretty soon after starting your low-paying part time job, you’re losing
your Parenting Payment – which allowed you to be with your children – and
working every day away from home for exactly the same amount, minus miscellaneous
work expenses and…</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">- CHILDCARE. It’s expensive. It’s particularly expensive
during school holidays when, even with the full single parent rebate, I used to
pay out MORE THAN I EARNED for 13 weeks of the year. I had to borrow money or
get advances to cover the costs during school holidays, then work off the debts
during the school term. I've quit three part time jobs over the years because
it simply wasn't financially viable to continue, including one that I dearly
loved. The worst part is that my kids weren't even there most school holidays,
as they often went away to visit family, but you have to keep them enrolled
(and paid for) to secure your place, thanks to the…</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">- LACK OF AVAILABLE CHILDCARE. People in the city are
struggling to get their kids into a childcare centre. For most people in the
country, such a thing doesn't even exist. You can’t force single parents into
the workforce without providing adequate childcare options. *Note: The newly
single mother with the 12 and 8 year old I described above? There is no
childcare available for children over 12. One of the reasons I moved back to
the country is that my oldest was about to turn 12 and I didn't know what the
hell I was going to do with him after school. We were faced with moving to an
unfamiliar (poor, high crime) suburb due to rent rises and, while I have no
problem with kids coming home from school alone, it’s just not something I felt
comfortable with under those circumstances.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">And then there’s that other dirty word that nobody ever
wants to talk about…</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">- DISCRIMINATION. I don’t know any single parents who
haven’t experienced some form of discrimination in employment. I'm old enough
to remember the Good Old Days, where employers could say “Sorry, I’d just
prefer someone without kids” straight to my face. These days it’s usually more
subtle, like interviewers asking what childcare arrangements you have in place
for emergencies - a more polite version of “But when one of your kids get sick,
you’ll go running”, which still gets said to me in less politically correct
environments (*cough* the country *cough*). Sadly, it’s often true, because…</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">- SINGLE PARENTHOOD CAN MAKE YOU SOMEWHAT UNRELIABLE. The
key word in ‘single parent’ is SINGLE – as in ALL BY YOURSELF. Many single
parents are completely alone, with no family and friends close by and/or no
other parent in the picture. If my kid got sick, the school would ring me to
pick him up and the childcare centre wouldn't take him. If one kid is sick for
a week and the second kid comes down with it over the weekend, it could mean
two weeks off work. The average employer won’t tolerate that for too long. And
every time you are fired or forced to quit, it only makes you look more
unreliable in the eyes of future employers and that much harder to get the next
job.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">I'm not suggesting
all these issues are unique to single parents. I'm well aware that many others
face similar problems, especially those on Newstart. But many of the easier
answers are unavailable once you have children. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">You can’t just crash on a mate’s couch or live in a
sharehouse with five other young adults. You can’t survive solely on 2-minute
noodles and water crackers. You constantly have to buy clothes and shoes,
because kids are always growing. School fees, uniforms and supplies can’t be
avoided and their requests for additional cash are relentless. Childcare costs
are a shocker. You need bigger houses, bigger cars, you use more electricity
and water, pay more doctors bills, blah blah etc etc. They’re expensive, needy
little critters.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">And before anyone pulls the old “If you can’t afford kids,
you shouldn't have them”….really? Is your life going exactly as you planned it
5, 10, 15 years ago? Shit happens. Many children of single parents were born into loving,
financially secure relationships, which eventually ended up neither loving nor
secure. ALL of us are only one accident or illness away from financial ruin - and
many are only one affair, or gambling problem, or domestic violence incident
away from single parenthood. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Which is why, of course, everyone should pay attention to
what the government is doing to single parents. Because one day, it could be any
one of you in the firing line.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-17012540006362526932012-07-07T14:25:00.000+08:002012-07-07T14:31:53.789+08:00Dear internet, YOU ROCK. Love, a crazy person.<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">My <a href="http://prizedandreviled.blogspot.com.au/2011/11/broken-but-never-alone.html" target="_blank">last post</a> was a long time ago, but I'm still getting responses to it on Twitter.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">Some of the things I've learned from those responses:<br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">* That people think I'm 'brave' for talking about my mental illness. This makes me sad, because it suggests the default is to maintain silence and, more importantly, that there's a huge risk involved with 'coming out' as a crazy person. And there totally is. And that's messed up. I feel like we should be able to talk about mental illness in the same way we talk about having a sore thumb, or the flu, or cancer. Why is it that when people tell you they have, say, diabetes, we're all sooo sympathetic, but if you say you're manic depressive, people shit themselves?<br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">* People also think I'm 'brave' for admitting I use alcohol to deal with depression. Some pointed out how unhealthy it is for people 'with my condition'. Or that I should be careful. Or that I'm irresponsible. I find this quite interesting. Every afternoon, my twitter feed is chock full of non-crazy people saying "Fuck, today has been so stressful. Now relaxing with a well-earned beer" or "Hooray! It's the weekend! Off to the pub!" or "Argh, my kids are being total arseholes. Need a glass of wine". You know what? I use booze in exactly the same way. It makes me relax, it calms me down, it slows my brain - which generally barrels along like a fucking out-of-control freight train - and helps me think more clearly. Obviously I'm not (by any stretch) claiming that it's a good way to deal with mental illness. BUT I'M NOT A CHILD. My brain may work in mysterious ways, but it still works. I understand the difference between 'healthy' drinking and 'unhealthy' drinking - in fact, I think I made that quite clear in the original post. I know what works for me and what doesn't and I'd appreciate if you could trust me to make those decisions for myself. Kthx.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">* People in the country really identified with my post. I don't know if that's because it was circulated more via country networks, or because it was written from a country perspective, or because country people experience more isolation than most. I suspect the latter. Lots of country people are online these days, but we're still lagging well behind the city. Get your country friends into social media! It will make a world of difference to their lives.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">* Some people who know me IRL were surprised to learn I was a total nutbag. I get this a lot. Mental illness manifests itself in many different ways and, I admit, I'm lucky that mine (mostly) allows me to function in a way that keeps me off the radar. Mind you, friends have still said "Ah, yes. Some things make more sense now", so it's not like it was completely invisible. But my point is that you can't always tell when someone's mentally ill. People need to remember this when they're telling their 'sad' mates to pull themselves together or stop being pathetic and just get over it. They might be struggling more than you realise.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">I want to thank everyone who commented on that post, here and on Twitter. I wrote it in a fit of gratitude, to let others know that support was out there - that the magic of social media means you can still feel connected, and loved, and cared about, even when you're totally alone. The response pretty much proved my point, because I've since received a whole pile of love and support via online networks and it's put me in a better position to offer the same to others.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">Keep fighting the good fight... against your moods, against self-censorship, against shame, against stigma, and against non-internet folks who keep telling you to switch off your computer and meet 'real' people. We're real and we really do care.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">In solidarity x</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-63523178411294950932011-11-15T01:23:00.003+08:002012-07-07T14:14:31.039+08:00broken, but never alone<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">This will end up wordy. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">For the easily bored, here's the tl;dr version... </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I am a loony. I love the internet.<br />
</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">So those of you on Twitter will know that I went to the doctor today and, amongst other things, was diagnosed with depression and put on medication. I then came home and proceeded to lose my shit all over the internet.<br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">This is not the first time I've had depression. It's something I've lived with all my life - well, half of my life. The other half was spent shagging and writing novels and scrubbing the bathroom at 3am, in joyous bursts of hypomania. Basically I'm a complete nutbag, but that's not what I wanted to write about.<br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">What struck me today was how, for me, social media has completely changed what it means to live with a mental illness.<br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The last time I lost the battle with my brain was in 2003. I'd had a horrendous year, culminating in me dumping my boyfriend, quitting my job and moving back to the country. I had some immediate family close by, but zero friends. I had no internet, no landline and my mobile only did what every other mobile did back then - make very expensive phone calls. I was pretty much alone.<br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I didn't go to the doctor because I felt sad. I went for a Pap smear. While he was getting things ready, he asked me some stuff about life and my kids and the next thing I knew, I was sobbing my heart out.<br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">That moment when the doctor asks the right question, says the right words, and the floodgates open? It's like a freakin' earthquake. The ground rumbles and splits beneath you and you start to free-fall. Until that point, you didn't realise just how hard you'd been fighting to maintain the balance, keep your shit together, pretend everything's ok. The weeks, months, even years of constant internal struggle. But in that moment, you admit defeat and realise you simply don't have the strength to do it any more. And that realisation is crippling.<br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Then, minutes after all this happens, your appointment is over and you find yourself back out in the corridor. Alone.<br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">And this, my friends, is where social media changed my life.<br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">In 2003, I had a two hour drive home from the doctor's surgery. I wailed and sobbed alone in my car until my eyes were so swollen I could barely see the road. On the way, I stopped and bought a bottle of vodka. It was late Friday arvo and Mum already had my kids at her place while I was away. I rang and asked if she could keep them for the night, went home, crawled into the corner behind my bed (paranoid that someone might see me through the window) and drank straight from the bottle, crying my heart out, until I passed out on the floor.<br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The meds kicked in a couple of weeks later, but things got much worse before they got better. I moved through each day like a zombie and cried myself to sleep every night. I started to fear leaving the house and having to speak to people. I've never felt so isolated in all my life.<br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Now...fast forward to today. Today, the earth opened up beneath me, just like it did last time. I sobbed my heart out in the surgery, then ended up in the corridor alone, just like last time. Only this time, I wasn't really alone. When I walked out of the hospital and turned my phone back on, I had messages from people asking if I was ok and cracking jokes and wishing me luck. When I got down the street and the shock started to set in, I stopped on the side of the road and pulled out my phone. Twitter made me laugh until I felt ok to drive.<br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">And, yeah, I wailed and sobbed for most of the half hour drive back. Then I went to the chemist, discovered I couldn't afford to fill my prescription, went home and lost my shit. Like last time, I'm completely isolated in a town where I know nobody. And, yeah, like last time I headed straight for the booze, cracking open a bottle of Passion Pop. BUT HERE'S THE THING...this time, I wasn't drinking myself into oblivion. This time, I was having a few glasses of wine to calm myself down WHILE CHATTING TO FRIENDS. Rather than internalising all the fear and shame, I talked openly about it with people who had shared similar experiences. Rather than feeling like I had to pretend I was coping, I could say "I'm broken right now". And nobody judged me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I was shown soooo much kindness on Twitter this afternoon. And I witness this kindness every day in my Twitter feed. Of course, that comes down to who you follow and how you interact on Twitter, but for me, it's a safe space filled with awesome people who genuinely care about each other. YMMV.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Isolation breeds depression and depression feeds off isolation. The last thing you need when you're depressed is to be alone. With social networking, you can carry your friends around in your pocket. When one timezone sleeps, another wakes up. You're NEVER alone.<br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Tonight, I'm not passed out on the floor next to an empty bottle. I haven't cried once since I calmed down on the verandah with a glass of sickly sweet bubbles. My son came home from school and I cooked dinner and we watched a couple of crappy comedies and when he noticed my puffy eyes and asked if I was ok, I said I'd be fine. And I will. Because I have you guys.</span>delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-13704992582363541952011-10-12T10:07:00.002+08:002011-10-12T10:53:19.388+08:00More sex slavery fuckwittery - migration agents<a href="http://www.smh.com.au/national/visa-to-vice-migration-agents-linked-to-sex-workers-20111011-1lj80.html#ixzz1aVYgu038">http://www.smh.com.au/national/visa-to-vice-migration-agents-linked-to-sex-workers-20111011-1lj80.html#ixzz1aVYgu038</a><br />
<br />
First paragraph... <i>"Licensed migration agents are helping bring women to Australia on student visas who end up working in conditions of sexual slavery or at illegal brothels".</i><br />
<br />
Second last paragraph... <i>However a [DIAC] spokesman said it has "no evidence to suggest any migration agents have been linked with people trafficking in the sex industry in the last five years".</i><br />
<br />
Last paragraph... <i>The Migration Agents Registration Authority [said] no agents in the past ten years had been sanctioned over allegations of sex slavery or trafficking.</i><br />
<br />
No evidence to back up your claims, no experts in the field to support you, so just start the article with a clear statement of what YOU BELIEVE to be true and hope the reader doesn't read all the way to the disclaimer at the end? Is this what passes for 'investigative journalism' these days?<br />
<br />
If we're going to talk about sex work and visas, lets look at what role migration agents actually play. And more importantly, WHY.<br />
<br />
If you're an English 20-something barmaid who wants to come to Australia on a working holiday, you can apply for your own visa and sign up with one of a multitude of Australian employment agencies. On arrival, those agencies will ship you all around the countryside, from pub to pub, arranging your accommodation and transport, and (I would assume) negotiating your pay rate and working conditions.<br />
<br />
You are only allowed to stay in the same place for a short time before you have to change employers - which country pubs are all in favour of because, and I quote, "We get a steady stream of pretty young things and it keeps the boys happy. Keeps them coming back to check out the new ones". So basically, backpacker barmaids are being used as the cheap and unskilled equivalent of skimpies, but I digress...<br />
<br />
If you're a 20-something SE Asian or Eastern European sex worker who wants to come to Australia for a working holiday, there's a good chance you <i>won't </i>be able to apply for your own visa. Thanks to over-the-top anti-trafficking policies, some countries are actually denying visas to young single women who they 'suspect' might be intending to work as a sex worker.<br />
<br />
Even if they do manage to get their own visa, sex workers don't have the luxury of employment agencies to assist them in finding employment and accommodation once they get here. In many Australian states, brothels are not allowed to sponsor or advertise for staff, and procuring (and anti-trafficking) laws make it difficult for third parties to help sex workers find work. So think about it... you're in a foreign nation, where you don't speak the language, trying to secure employment in an industry that is heavily regulated and often shrouded in secrecy. You don't know the local laws, you have no way of knowing which are the well-run brothels and which ones are dodgy and once you find a job, you have no idea what your rights are.<br />
<br />
*Note: If the only information a migrant sex worker gets about Australian sex work is <i>"Foreign sex workers are sex slaves, exploited, offering unprotected services, being raided and rescued",</i> etc - from our sensationalist media - how do you think that affects their choices? What sort of working conditions will they accept if they think that's the norm? How do they stand up for their rights if they're led to believe they don't have any?<br />
<br />
Taking all of this into consideration, is it really any wonder that sex workers from other countries <i>choose </i>to go through a migration agent and/or brothel syndicate? It may be their best option, or perhaps their only option. One thing's for sure, it will always be the most expensive option. Bringing someone into the country and circumventing (not necessarily breaking) laws costs a lot of money. That expense is then passed on to the sex worker. Having huge debts and being in a precarious legal position then leaves these sex workers vulnerable to exploitation.<br />
<br />
Let me just say that again, to make it doubly clear - migrant sex workers are vulnerable to exploitation <i>thanks to anti-trafficking laws and immigration policies</i>. Unscrupulous operators might be taking advantage of it, but our laws and attitudes are CAUSING it.<br />
<br />
Blanket bans and excessive controls lead to a violent, exploitative black market, dominated by organised crime. Did the world learn <i>nothing </i>from prohibition?delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-71778901470330330832011-10-10T12:01:00.004+08:002011-10-10T16:57:18.872+08:00Exposing the Flesh Trade (aka Sensationalist Journalism 101)<div class="MsoNormal">There is no story in journalism that gets more clicks, fans and accolades than a sex slavery exposé. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The readers lap it up. It tugs at the heart strings, gives us an 'insight' into a seedy underbelly that we've never experienced and will never understand, and plays on our xenophobia and inherent fear of anything sex-related. It gives us a damsel in distress to care about and a hero to worship - makes our stupid white selves feel proud that we have heroic white cops to protect naive Asian prostitutes from their scary Asian bosses.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">For the 'investigative journalist', it's an easy story to write. Few people know the realities of sex work, so you can just write whatever stereotypical crap springs to mind. Few people know who the major players are, so you don't have to interview them if you think they won't toe the party line. Many people have preconceived ideas about Asian women (ie RACISM), so readers will believe you when you suggest they have no agency, or that every Asian woman lives in desperate poverty, or that Asian women make great sex toys, or that Asian women are too stupid to know when they're being scammed or exploited. (Let's just ignore the fact that most migrant sex workers in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Australia</st1:place></st1:country-region> come from the <st1:country-region><st1:place>US</st1:place></st1:country-region>, the <st1:country-region><st1:place>UK</st1:place></st1:country-region> and <st1:country-region><st1:place>New Zealand</st1:place></st1:country-region>. They're obviously big enough and white enough to look after themselves).<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Not enough evidence of trafficked sex workers? No worries - that's because it's such a well-hidden activity. They're definitely out there. Honest. We just can't find them. Sure, that means we can't corroborate the excessive numbers we're quoting, but you can't refute them, either. So there. Checkmate. If all else fails, find any old case involving an Asian brothel and question why nobody has been convicted. If possible, make it look like a cover-up. That shit must happen all the time, because police are corrupt and Asian gangs are powerful, right? Yeah, why not. The readers will buy that.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Why are my knickers in a twist (again) about this topic? Well, The Age and <st1:place>Four Corners</st1:place> have partnered up to do an 'exposé on the flesh trade', which will screen on <st1:place>Four Corners</st1:place> on Monday night. The Age has posted a bit of pre-screening self-promotion here: <a href="http://www.watoday.com.au/national/terrible-price-of-a-trade-in-misery-20111007-1ldln.html">http://www.watoday.com.au/national/terrible-price-of-a-trade-in-misery-20111007-1ldln.html</a><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The article's language and imagery, and obvious bias, is appalling. Not to mention the graphic depiction of the discovery of the murdered man. Vile tragedy porn. What the hell is this story even about?<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Let's look at the facts, without all the decorative detail. The dead man visited sex workers, used meth, and one night he stormed a brothel. The Age/Four Corners don't know exactly what happened that night, but they're convinced he was there with good intentions. Mind you, the police didn't press charges because they thought there might be a case for self-defence, which would suggest that after an extensive murder investigation, they believed the man was NOT there with good intentions. (Interestingly, the detective involved chose not to comment). </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But we all know there must be more to this story than meets the eye, because <st1:stockticker>OMG</st1:stockticker> THERE WAS BROTHELS <st1:stockticker>AND</st1:stockticker> ASIANS <st1:stockticker>AND</st1:stockticker> STUFF.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>"...there were whispers of broken hearts - Papo had fallen for a Korean student before his death..."<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So he was in love with a brothel girl, who obviously didn't feel the same way, or there wouldn't be any broken hearts.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>"[Papo] told an officer he was gravely concerned for the welfare of a 20-something Korean woman he had dated named Kathy...who was being threatened and had had her passport taken from her."</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
Ok, so he actually dated the woman. In the past tense. This seems to confirm they had already broken up.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>"Then there was the discovery that the quiet Asian girl who had lived with Abraham in the Papo house for a few months, often studying English books on his bedroom floor, worked in a brothel".<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">WAIT....WHAT? She <i>lived</i> with him??? Ok, now I'm all kinds of confused. Was she trafficked from <st1:country-region><st1:place>Korea</st1:place></st1:country-region> by a controlling evil syndicate, who then let her go off and live with her boyfriend for a few months? How long ago was this? Why did she move out?<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>"[Papo] told [David] he had called Kathy on her mobile ... Kathy had been taken to </i><st1:city><st1:place><i>Sydney</i></st1:place></st1:city><i> and forced to work against her will. ''He said she was being raped and beaten and [told me] that he had to help her,''</i> <i>David's police statement says.</i> <i><o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It took me three times reading through this article before I noticed this bit... <i>"she had been taken to </i><st1:city><st1:place><i>Sydney</i></st1:place></st1:city><i>"</i>. Maybe I just had a comprehension fail, or maybe it was all the flowery language and waffling about Papo wanting to 'help Kathy' that had me picturing him trying to storm the place and drag her out of there. She wasn't there. She was in <st1:city><st1:place>Sydney</st1:place></st1:city>. So maybe Papo stormed the brothel demanding to know Kathy's whereabouts?<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>''[Abraham] said that a male had then got on [Kathy's] phone and threatened him. The guy had said that he would chop him up if he came near her. He told me he then rang an Asian guy that runs a brothel in </i><st1:place><i>South Melbourne</i></st1:place><i> and had an argument on the phone about Kathy.''<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Ok, maybe not. He had just spoken to Kathy on the phone. Did she not know where she was? If his aim was to rescue Kathy, would it not have made more sense to call the <st1:city><st1:place>Sydney</st1:place></st1:city> police? Or jump on a plane? He had the money his brother gave him (if that's true) to do it. Why did he (supposedly) borrow this money, if not to get to <st1:city><st1:place>Sydney</st1:place></st1:city>? At this point, it's starting to seem highly likely that he stormed the brothel with violent intentions.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The whole phone call thing is also interesting. Apparently this sex slave - the one who was allowed to go off and live with her boyfriend for a few months - also has a mobile phone. A man gets on her phone (the same man who was raping and beating her?) and threatens to chop Papo into little pieces if he comes near her. And then....<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>David also told police he had called Kathy on her phone and, in broken English, she had confirmed that she was with ''bad people'', was being hurt and was unable to talk.<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">...the man hands the phone back to Kathy, so she can be called at a later date by her boyfriend's brother. But she's not allowed to talk. She just has the phone for...I dunno...Angry Birds, or something.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Maybe the TV program will provide more information and help this story make some kind of sense, but as it stands, it has more than a few plot-holes. I reckon I could write a slightly more believable version, based on the 'evidence' presented thus far...<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A guy starts seeing a sex worker and falls in love with her. She moves in with him and after a few months, things start to head south. Maybe he demands she stop working and she doesn't want to, maybe he treats her badly (my own experience with a meth-using boyfriend wasn't exactly a barrel of laughs), or maybe she just doesn't feel the same way about him any more. For whatever reason, she ends the relationship and moves back into the brothel.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Loverboy doesn't accept this decision and starts stalking and harassing her. He calls her, she tells him she's gone to <st1:city><st1:place>Sydney</st1:place></st1:city>, he starts yelling at her. Some bloke (her boss, new boyfriend) grabs the phone and tells him to leave her alone. Loverboy goes ballistic. He doesn't believe she's in <st1:city><st1:place>Sydney</st1:place></st1:city>. He knows she's still in <st1:city><st1:place>Melbourne</st1:place></st1:city> and just trying to avoid him. He calls the <st1:city><st1:place>Melbourne</st1:place></st1:city> brothel and the owner takes Kathy's side, telling Loverboy to just back off and forget about her.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">He goes to the police and makes a sex slavery claim - not because he fears his ex-girlfriend is 'in trouble', but to set the wheels in motion for a trafficking raid, which will cause havoc for the owners and hopefully get Kathy detained and/or deported. The police don't take it seriously, or maybe he just can't be bothered waiting for them to act, so he takes matters into his own hands. He storms the brothel, assaults a guy, maybe steals some stuff, then pulls out a metal bar to finish the job.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Now I'm not, for one second, excusing the man who beat another man severely enough to kill him, self-defence or not. I'm only looking at the events leading up to that incident, which - when you take away all the sex slavery, Asian crime gangs and seedy brothel neighbourhood crap - looks very much like your garden-variety ex-boyfriend who wouldn't take no for an answer. Would we see this differently if Kathy had been white? Or if she'd worked at a florist? Or if Zheng had been a nightclub bouncer, not a brothel driver?<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Then, towards the end of the article, we get to the really dangerous part of these kinds of stories - the calls to change the laws and crack down on licensing/trafficking/sex work. Anyone who actually knows anything about sex work laws, brothel licensing and anti-trafficking laws, knows it's the 'cracking down' that actually <i>facilitates</i> this sort of crime. Cracking down on visas forces migrant sex workers to seek assistance from agents/traffickers. Cracking down on brothels forces owners to cut corners, rip off workers, or operate outside the legal framework in order to remain profitable. Cracking down on brothel licenses sees rich, powerful 'cleanskins' with no brothel experience buying their way into the sex industry. These crackdowns are invariably introduced in the name of "protecting vulnerable sex workers", but they are always the people that end up being hurt the most.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In the days since The Age article and <st1:place>Four Corners</st1:place> promotion hit, there has been an avalanche of trafficking and sex slavery media in NSW and Victoria...<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.theage.com.au/victoria/brothel-bosses-hit-with-bribery-sex-charges-20111008-1lf5s.html#ixzz1aEykxiLO">http://www.theage.com.au/victoria/brothel-bosses-hit-with-bribery-sex-charges-20111008-1lf5s.html#ixzz1aEykxiLO</a><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.theage.com.au/victoria/police-to-get-more-power-to-fight-illicit-sex-trade-20111008-1lf41.html#ixzz1aF6tN8Qk">http://www.theage.com.au/victoria/police-to-get-more-power-to-fight-illicit-sex-trade-20111008-1lf41.html#ixzz1aF6tN8Qk</a><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.smh.com.au/national/legal-brothels-linked-to-international-sex-trafficking-rings-20111009-1lfxs.html#ixzz1aJv1AlhI">http://www.smh.com.au/national/legal-brothels-linked-to-international-sex-trafficking-rings-20111009-1lfxs.html#ixzz1aJv1AlhI</a></div><div class="MsoNormal">...to name but a few.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">By the way...do you notice anything missing from all of these articles? All these calls to change laws, crack down on owners and "protect the prostitutes"? Sex worker voices, that's what's missing. The very people these politicians and noisy advocates claim to want to protect. So noisy that they can't hear sex worker groups screaming FOR FUCKS SAKE, YOU WANNA <st1:stockticker>TALK</st1:stockticker> ABOUT EXPLOITATION? HOW ABOUT WE START WITH <u>YOU</u> EXPLOITING <u>US</u> IN THE NAME OF POLITICAL POINT-SCORING?!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The voices of sex worker rights organisations will not be heard in the <st1:place>Four Corners</st1:place> piece. The Australian sex workers association, for example - who runs a federally-funded migration project, in partnership with sex worker organisations in SE Asia and staffed by multilingual migrant sex workers - was actively refused an interview during production. In their attempts to redress this obvious bias, sex worker groups are now being refused interviews with the newspapers. If you want to hear that side of the story, you will need to go to their websites, follow them on Twitter and Facebook, read the Indy press. Because you ain't gonna hear it in the mainstream media.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Trafficking is real. Sex slavery is a heinous crime and anyone committing it should be hunted down like a dog and prosecuted to the full extent of the law. We need to be aware that these situations exist and to know what to do if we come across it. But writing racist, hysterical nonsense and actively excluding the experts from the discussion is not the way to go about it.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px;"></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"></div>delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-8557158741896091492011-06-07T12:25:00.000+08:002011-06-07T12:25:33.088+08:00In defence of bogans...This is a comment I made on another <a href="http://prestoninstitute.wordpress.com/2011/06/06/boganattitude/">blog post</a> that was defending the stereotyping of 'bogans'. Just posting it here to show someone else - and maybe to point to in future when the debate gets too much for me.<br />
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<div class="comment-body">This suburban vs inner city thing seems to come up a lot in the ‘bogan’ discussion. I feel I should point out that that’s very much a Melbourne/Sydney thing. Other cities don’t recognise those issues to the same extent because they are, or have traditionally been, constructed differently – and the bush doesn’t recognise those issues at all. It’s no coincidence that the people most active against anti-bogan sentiment on Twitter have been from WA, SA, Qld and/or regional areas.<br />
<br />
Interestingly, all those places are often judged as more ‘bogan’ than NSW or Victoria. The recent WA-bashing is a case in point, with West Aussies frequently described as inherently racist, sexist, homophobic, greedy and selfish. Why? Because it’s the home of the cashed up bogan? Again, I don’t think it’s coincidence that Australia’s primary mining and agricultural states, Qld and WA, are commonly stereotyped as insular bogan bigots.<br />
<br />
You said in your post that “bogan was a Melbourne word for many decades …to [Sydney] the bogans of old were westies”.<br />
<br />
Firstly, you guys (apparently) defined a bogan by the suburb they lived in. We didn’t. We have ‘bogan suburbs’, known as such because that’s where all the bogans live, ie. the ‘bogan’ is a pre-defined type of person that happens to congregate in that suburb. Those suburbs are almost exclusively welfare and state housing-dependent areas, so for many people, ‘bogan’ is intrinsically linked to low income.<br />
<br />
Secondly, Melbourne isn’t the only place where the word ‘bogan’ existed. I was identifying as a bogan in highschool, 25 years ago. I also have friends from Adelaide who claim ‘boganhood’ in their teens and their definition is compatible with mine – someone in black jeans and a flanno who drives a ute, drinks beer and listens to Oz rock. It had nothing to do with bigotry, or ostentatious clothing and houses (the latter being the complete opposite of the traditional bogan).<br />
<br />
Which brings us to the crux of my argument – I don’t appreciate my personal lifestyle or history (or state) being re-appropriated to mean something hideous and hated. And it’s really not appropriate for people who don’t inhabit that community or identify with the label to say it’s simply part of the “continuing defining process” and dismiss the concerns of people that do.<br />
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This cruel stereotype will cause actual harm to people. It’s already started. For example, Centrelink is trialling income management in select ‘bogan suburbs’ in Perth, because their inhabitants are automatically deemed to be irresponsible and lazy. Actually they’re just poor, but society supports these measures because they firmly believe that ‘bogans’ are a certain breed of people who don’t give a f*ck about their kids or their health or the taxpayer. Hey, that sounds familiar…NT intervention, anyone?<br />
<br />
You are creating a new underclass that it’s totally PC to vilify. And it’s all very well to claim that the meaning of the word is changing, but the ORIGINAL meaning of the word is still firmly entrenched in our psyche. What this means is that, today, any person fitting the OLD definition of bogan (black jeans, wifebeater, feral ute, goatee) is immediately grouped together with the NEW definition of bogan (violent, racist, sexist, homophobe). I should add that this is particularly upsetting for country people, like me, who tend to present as the city idea of ‘bogan’, even if we don’t identify as such. Just last week I had an argument with someone about “arrogant country bogans in their 4WDs, who don’t give a f*ck about the environment”.<br />
<br />
Apologies for the lengthy rant, but I don’t think people realise just how much this stereotyping is hurting people. I’m actually getting to the point where I’m scared to talk about certain things on Twitter, lest I be deemed bogan and shouted down for it. On the weekend, I tweeted a ‘bogan’ joke and a friend retweeted it – he suffered a full day of insults and accusations of bigotry because of it. (Both of us are left-leaning and known in the activist community AND also identify as bogans). In short, if someone is a bigot, call them a bigot. The word ‘bogan’ is already taken.</div>delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-29235513413241762842011-04-27T04:35:00.001+08:002011-04-27T05:03:24.880+08:00re: my recent sex doll outburstOk, so now that I've had a couple of beers, a nanna nap and a nice cup of coffee, I might be able to comment on this more objectively, instead of going off half-cocked like I did earlier. I tend to only blog when I'm angry, which is a habit I probably need to kick.<br />
<br />
I didn't want to make this an attack on the author and I'm really annoyed at myself for having done so. (If the person in question happens to read this, please accept my heartfelt apology). It was the session content I took issue with and, whilst that's obviously intrisically linked to the book, I'd prefer to focus solely on the topics raised in the session.<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>- The sex doll as the 'perfect woman' - controlled, obedient and silent.</i><br />
The words 'control', 'silence' and 'perfect' were repeated over and over during the presentation. Now, I'm not doubting that there are people out there who like their sex partners to do what they're told and keep their mouth shut. I also know that there are traditional standards of feminine beauty that many men find sexually desirable. What I <i>don't</i> agree with is the suggestion that most men consider these things essential in a 'perfect woman'.<br />
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To be honest, I found that assertion extremely insulting to both men and women. I don't believe that men wield their penises as weapons, subduing and conquering a string of (female) partners, on a life-long quest to find the perfect automaton. I don't believe that women are valued solely for their vaginas and that having agency makes them somehow less than 'perfect'. I simply do not believe that the average man wants to have complete control over a silent, obedient woman. Full stop.<br />
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I'm not saying that the presenter personally believes this to be the case, but this is the premise that much of the discussion was built on. When the basic premise is so inherently flawed, the conclusions are bound to have some holes in them.<br />
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<i>- Similar types of aberrant sexual activity - the desire for control and emotionless, one-sided sex can be seen in men's attraction to prostitutes.</i><br />
Ummm...no. Firstly, this stereotype doesn't accurately reflect the power dynamic in commercial sex exchanges, nor the degree of intimacy involved. Secondly, having sex with a living, breathing sex worker is <i>in no way</i> <i>similar </i>to having sex with an inanimate object - the blatant dehumanisation of sex workers in that statement is utterly abhorrent.<br />
<br />
If anything, I'd consider the motivation behind visiting sex workers to be the exact opposite of what was stated in the session. These men could have sex with sex dolls and other vagina-like sex toys, or they could masturbate. Instead, they pay to have sex with another human being. If you compare the number of men who have sex with sex dolls to the number of men who visit sex workers, I think you'll find substantially more men pay for sex - that is, the two activities are not so similar as to be interchangeable. <br />
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Sex workers are not some non-human entity devoid of emotions or agency. There is absolutely no difference between having sex with a sex worker and having sex with a stranger from the pub, only we don't judge people for the latter. Choosing a sex worker over an unpaid stranger does not make a man an emotionally stunted control freak, any more than choosing vanilla icecream over chocolate makes you a racist.<br />
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<i>- Similar types of aberrant sexual activity - porn</i><br />
Ummm...no, again. Whilst watching porn may be somewhat similar, in that it's a masturbatory aid, the presenter seemed to have a hard time separating the porn movie from the porn actress. As with sex workers, comments were made about the women involved being degraded, controlled and forced to engage in unwanted (and unenjoyable) sexual activity, and that porn consumers prefer their women to be that way. The larger porn debate is not one I want to get into right now, but the assumption that a porn actress is <i>living </i>the part she's playing is nonsensical - we wouldn't assume the same thing of a Hollywood actress or TV soapie star. We should also credit men with the intelligence to tell the difference between an actress and the character she's portraying on screen.<br />
<br />
Again, there is that underlying idea that sex is something that men do to women, that women tolerate begrudgingly. Any woman appearing to <i>enjoy </i>lots of sex (sex workers, porn stars) must be either forced or damaged. It then follows that a man who engages in sex with a forced or damaged woman must be some kind of monster.<br />
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<i>- Having sex with sex dolls can become addictive</i><br />
Call me crazy, but I just don't see a problem with that. Does it really matter whether a person shags his doll once a week or three times a day? Who is it hurting? People do become addicted to sex. Some of the more problematic consequences of sex addiction include infidelity, over-spending (on sex workers or mistresses) and the risks associated with unprotected sex. None of these things apply to a sex doll addiction.<br />
<br />
<i>- Sex doll use may act as a gateway to the mistreatment of actual people</i><br />
I'm not sold on the idea of 'gateway' activities. They say that marijuana is a gateway drug, but if everyone who smoked pot graduated to the hard stuff, more than half our population would have a heroin addiction.<br />
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I just don't see having sex with a corpse as a natural progression from sex dolls. I don't think someone who beats the crap out of an inanimate object would enjoy seeing a real partner scream and cry and bleed. I don't think a man who has sex with a young-looking doll will end up raping a child. <br />
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I tend to see the gateway argument as just another attempt at enforcing morality, based on the belief that if you indulge in one deviant activity, you probably won't have any qualms about engaging in others. I can't think of any examples of 'positive' gateway activities. Nobody warns you that volunteering might be a gateway to employment. We don't fear that taking one person as a life partner will be a gateway to polyamory. It's only when you're doing something naughty (like fucking a sex doll) that you find yourself on the slippery slope.<br />
<br />
<i>- Sex doll users have a fear of commitment and don't want to experience real love</i><br />
This may be the case, but I can also see the opposite being true...that sex dolls could provide a person with unconditional love. Children love their dolls and stuffed toys. They tell them everything, take them everywhere and care for them very deeply - if you want to see how much, just try and toss your kids' favourite toy in the bin. You could also compare it to the love people have for their pets, especially less demonstrative creatures like fish, and some people even feel a strong love for their plants. The fact that a person has <i>sex </i>with their doll is of no real consequence and doesn't make his feelings of love any less real.<br />
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<i>- 'Normal' sexual behaviour occurs within a monogamous, long-term, heterosexual relationship.</i><br />
This wasn't explicitly stated, but it was certainly intimated. The only type of sex discussed was penis in vagina intercourse and the inability to form lasting relationships was repeatedly referred to as a negative outcome. There was no recognition of sex or gender diversity. The power dynamics in gay and lesbian relationships were not explored, nor was it considered that some people might simply choose to remain single. <br />
<br />
There was also no exploration into the use of sex toys by <i>women </i>- and when you consider the popularity of vibrators and dildos, that discussion could get quite interesting. Sex dolls might be silent and obedient, but at least they resemble a woman's (entire) body. Are women taking objectification to a whole other level by abandoning all but the penis? Do these oversized, perpetually erect penises have a negative effect on male confidence and body image? Does enjoying complete control over a silent, disembodied dick suggest a misandrist streak or fear of commitment? <br />
<br />
<br />
Anyway, they are some of the reasons why I was so frustrated with the sex dolls session. I don't believe the presenter was intentionally sexist or that he meant any offense - I just think the scope of the study was way too limited and the perspective too one-sided. And I will repeat that I have NOT read the book and for all I know, the information may be presented in an entirely different way. If so, I'm happy to stand corrected. (I will also go back and remove my unnecessarily nasty recommendation not to buy the book, which I had no right to say). But I did find the content of the Swancon session really hard going and I vehemently disagree with a number of the conclusions.delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-45406178280703952432011-04-26T17:24:00.007+08:002011-04-27T13:28:10.551+08:00Swancon36/Natcon50: SO MUCH SQUEEOn my first day of Swancon, as I gazed in wide-eyed wonder at a wall of Doctor Who merchandise, I heard a sharp intake of breath beside me and a female voice exclaimed "OH MY GOD! SO MUCH SQUEE!!!"<br />
<br />
That statement pretty much sums up my entire weekend. <br />
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The panels - bar one*** - were exceptional. Amongst my favourites were Alan Baxter's workshop on writing authentic fight scenes (including simulated punch-ups between participants), Nicole R Murphy's presentation on writing sex scenes (NOT including simulated sex between participants!) and a fascinating session called 'Ghosts in the Machine: AI and The Human Mind' (panel included Justina Robson and Sean Williams).<br />
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My overall favourite would have to be the Series Four Doctor Who (Hartnell and Troughton) session, which showed heaps of rare/lost footage and audio, complemented by expert commentary and behind-the-scenes info from the panel. It included an emotional video tribute to Elisabeth Sladen/Sarah Jane Smith - half the room were sobbing their hearts out by the end - and another for Nicholas Courtney/The Brigadier. There was also a wake held for Sarah Jane and The Brigadier in the public bar on Saturday night.<br />
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This is only my third Swancon, but it's obvious there is a <i>very </i>large and passionate Who community in Perth and each year, the Doctor Who panels/events have made the top of my favourites list. If any of the folks involved happen to be reading this, THANK YOU.<br />
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I've never been to any other sci-fi conventions, but I've seen pics and heard many stories from my interstate and international friends. What blows me away about Swancon (and, from what I can gather, sets it apart from many other cons) is just how close you can get to the 'celebrities' of our field. If you read my post about last year's Swancon, you'll remember I had a major geekgasm over casually chatting with the likes of Ian Irvine and Richard Harland, and getting blind drunk with Scott Sigler. Let's not mince words here - that was nothing short of FUCKING AWESOME.<br />
<br />
This year I found myself on a hunt for midnight munchies with Sylvia Kelso, teased Alan Baxter at the bar, danced like a mad woman to the music of DJ Sean Williams, philosiphised about small towns and family with Ian Nichols, talked sex with Nicole R Murphy, cuddled (at the behest of a Twitter friend) Paul Kidd, dodged (without success) Ellen Datlow's camera, and took happy snaps of Justina Robson. Just to mention a few. Again... nothing short of FUCKING AWESOME! Sometimes I regret living in the small-town backwater that is Western Australia, but Swancon is NOT one of those times.<br />
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Like all things, my Swancon experience had a downside. I raised the issue, for the second year running, of the exclusion of newbies as something the committee really needs to address. I know this exclusion isn't intentional, but the tight-knit groups of regular attendees can make new people feel <i>very </i>unwelcome. This is my third Swancon and each time I've ended up hanging out with people from interstate or overseas, because they often feel as left out as I do. If Swancon wants to broaden its fan base and increase its numbers, something <i>really </i>needs to be done about the isolation felt by newbies. This year I was a little better off thanks to Twitter - I'd met some Perth peeps online (and in person at #wawonkdrinks) and one of those people went out of his way to ensure that I felt included. His kindness made all the difference. Thank you, Nick!<br />
<br />
All in all, Swancon was - all together now - FUCKING AWESOME. Thank you to the Swancon committee, the volunteers, the guest authors, the Whovians, the Perth Twitter geeks and everyone else who made my weekend so memorable. See you next year!<br />
<br />
<br />
*** OH. MY. GOD...the 'Dolls of Desire: Man's Unnatural Selection of the Perfect Woman' presentation. I can't even begin to tell you how <i>furious </i>this session made me. <br />
<br />
I haven't read the book and, after attending that session, I have no intention of ever doing so. But if the presentation is anything to go by, the book is a study based on a COMPLETELY FALSE PREMISE. I sat there with steam coming out of my ears as this white, heterosexual man talked about what it means to be a sex worker or porn star, denied women their agency and sexual enjoyment, described men as inherently abusive control freaks, demonised 'alternative' sexual behaviours like BDSM and polyamory, and invisibilised gay, lesbian and trans* folks. I had so many things I wanted to scream about that I was struck dumb and couldn't say anything at all.<br />
<br />
To be honest, I <i>had </i>planned to give a constructive critique of this presentation, but I've realised I'm still too angry to comment politely on it. I was blown away by the level of sexist, stereotypical bullshit... and anyone who knows me in the real world knows I've dealt with a shitload of sexist, stereotypical bullshit in my time.<br />
<br />
All I can say is... as a sex positive woman, I found this session incredibly frustrating.<br />
<br />
[Edited because I let my temper get the better of me and behaved like an outrageously rude bitch.]delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-58472993201102005292010-09-16T03:11:00.002+08:002010-09-16T03:22:42.340+08:00THE ROOKIE by Scott Sigler (Part review, part rambling. Mostly rambling)Ok, let's get this out of the way up front... I hate Aussie Rules Football. HATE it. I have slightly less violent emotions about rugby, mostly because rugby boys have the bodies of gods and you don't need to like the game to enjoy the view. Then there's soccer with its swan-diving cry-babies, and cricket... is cricket even a sport? I've seen more exciting games of Duck-Duck-Goose. Put quite simply, I would rather gouge my own eyes out with a teaspoon than watch any form of sport.<br />
<br />
THE ROOKIE focuses quite heavily on American Football. As you would expect, given my low tolerance for all things sports, my knowledge and understanding of American Football amounts to precisely zero. The fact that I'm Australian doesn't help. I have to be honest and admit that I struggled with this aspect of the book. The football jargon and slang went straight over my head, and it was impossible to summon an accurate mental image of the scenes playing out before me, because I had no concept of things like field markers, player positioning, or...you know...the rules.<br />
<br />
So what possessed someone like me to pick up a book like this? Basically, I would travel cross-country to read graffiti on a toilet wall if it was written by Scott Sigler. That's all. If I wasn't such a fan, I would never have read this book. And that, my friends, would have been a crying shame.<br />
<br />
Set 700 years in the future, the story follows Quentin Barnes, quarterback extraordinaire, on his quest to hit the big time as a Tier One starter in the Galactic Football League. There's a whole lot of football. We watch each game in detail (complete with stats charts and radio interviews) as every play he makes takes him closer to realising his dream. The games are fast and furious and written with such attention to detail that even I, with no real idea of what the hell was going on, could feel the tension and excitement and pain and elation. I may not have been picturing the game in the 'correct' way, but it was still highly entertaining.<br />
<br />
There's also a whole lot of stuff going on off-field. During a brief stint of prohibition, organised crime moved into the GFL and they never moved out. Players are bought and sold by 'the mob' and team ownership includes privileges like smuggling and drug running with impunity. Depending on the mood of the boss, non-performing or misbehaving players may be sacked...or whacked. Corruption is rife.<br />
<br />
Oh, and did I mention there’s aliens? Two of the big ticket issues addressed in this book are class and racism. You see, 700 years in the future, humans have settled on other planets and are trading with alien nations. Galactic Football League teams are made up of many different beings, each playing positions suited to their particular physiology (in one race the females are bigger and faster than the males, so the women play on the teams). The League itself serves as a tool to maintain race relations, giving beings from different planets a common interest and an opportunity to learn to work together.<br />
<br />
Quentin Barnes comes from the Purist Nation, a human colony with hardcore religious foundations. The Church controls most aspects of daily life and a raft of things (including, it seems, freedom of thought) are condemned as sins and banned. Church members and their families have access to education and power, while the underclasses are condemned to a life of shame and destitution, with little chance of ever rising above their station. Quentin, an indentured mine worker, defied those odds when he was signed to the local football team, but his privileged team members never let him forget where he came from.<br />
<br />
Fundamental to the Church's belief system is the conviction that the human race is superior to all others - people from the Purist Nation are instilled, from a young age, with an unadulterated hatred for all things alien. On top of that, they live with the constant military presence of an occupying alien force. Fear and disgust are the only feelings Quentin has ever had for non-humans...and now these monsters are his team mates.<br />
<br />
Quentin's internal struggle with his racism and religious beliefs is central to this story. He finds out quickly that, far from being seen as blessed and perfect, his countrymen are despised and ridiculed by beings from other planets (including other human planets) for their treatment of alien races and their blind faith in their Church. As time goes on, he is forced to see things through a different lens and begin the process of re-assessing everything he's ever known to be true. It’s obvious from the start where Quentin’s soul-searching is going to take him, but the journey is beautifully described.<br />
<br />
Aside from racism, one of the things that stood out for me was the deconstruction of religion. I’m not going to go on a church-bashing rampage, but the book exposes and examines what I believe to be the more sinister aspects of organised religion – social control, social exclusion, nepotism, guilt, bigotry, selective application of values and biased interpretations of history, to name just a few. Some of the observations are quite overt, other times they’re hidden in subtext. I don’t know if it was the author’s intention (and I apologise for this comment if it wasn’t) but the analysis, while remaining respectful of individual beliefs, raises a well-deserved middle finger to those institutions that thrive on perpetuating fear and hatred amongst their followers.<br />
<br />
Anyhoo...I could waffle on for hours about other topics touched on in this book, but I’ll spare you the torment. I have waffled enough! Suffice to say; to describe this book as a story about aliens playing football would be to severely underestimate its strength and depth.<br />
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THE ROOKIE is totally YA-friendly, with no bad language and only fleeting references to sex and drugs. Sigler’s alien worlds and the creatures that inhabit them are rich and vibrant; each with its own unique culture and language and history. The social and political commentary is obvious, but not preachy. People of all ages and genders can enjoy this book, but I would especially recommend it for teenage boys, as a fast-paced sports/alien adventure with really positive messages of equality, self-respect and ‘mateship’.<br />
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THE ROOKIE is the first book in a series. The second book, THE STARTER, went on sale just a few weeks ago and is available from <a href="http://www.scottsigler.com/thestarter">www.scottsigler.com/thestarter</a> . I’m looking forward to devouring my copy shortly.delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-74000294279714803722010-07-25T04:34:00.001+08:002010-07-25T05:12:07.508+08:00Collateral damage in the war against grogTonight's news featured a grinning WA Police Commissioner announcing, with great pride, that domestic violence rates have risen dramatically over the last 12 months. <br />
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Ok, so that's not exactly what he said. He was bragging that in the past year, our state has seen a significant drop in street violence and public displays of anti-social behaviour. Then the Premier joins in, praising the tireless work of the WA police. Then Attorney-General Christian Porter chimes in with what a raging success our over-zealous, Gestapo-style anti-violence legislation has been. All of them, proud as punch. <br />
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Halfway through the report, for just a few short seconds, a crime statistics graphic pops up on the screen, with all violent crimes showing a decrease...except the last one, which shows a significant <em>rise</em>. The voiceover says "Police don't know why there has been an increase in domestic violence". Then straight back to police and pollies congratulating themselves on their 'success'.<br />
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None of them were asked, on camera, about the domestic violence increase and the truth of the matter is that they couldn't care less. The Barnett Government is all about public perception. They rely on the sheep vote. They know that the idiots who vote for them only care about their own health, their own safety, their own lives. These NIMBYs don't care what happens to other people, so long as they don't have to witness it.<br />
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Which is why, when WAPOL gloated about the decrease in street violence, they may as well have been patting themselves on the back for the increase in domestic violence. They know they can't <em>solve</em> the problem of alcohol and drugs-related violence...the best they can hope for is to keep it out of the public eye. Sweeping crime off the streets and into family homes is a huge win for them. Women and children are just collateral damage.<br />
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In any other state, under any other Government, that news story would have focused on the increase in domestic violence. People would be asking why, in this day and age, women are being subjected to higher levels of violence in their homes. But, no... we can't do that either, because the state (and federal) legislation that they're so proud of, actually <em>caused</em> the increase. <br />
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You see, I have a theory. Actually, I came up with this theory a number of years ago and over the past two years, it's beginning to prove itself. It's not a very original or complex theory, but it's one that our Government will never come up with itself, because a) they're tee-totalling fundamentalists who don't understand the nature of addiction, b) they have absolutely NO IDEA what it's like to be poor, and c) they don't appear to have ever experienced domestic violence. Me and most of my friends, however...we have a very good grasp on all three.<br />
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It all started a few years ago, when the state Government banned smoking in pubs and clubs. We have a high number of smokers in my town and our pub wasn't prepared for the changes - the smokers, who constituted about three quarters of pub patrons, were forced to stand out in the carpark in the rain or heat; sans drinks because the carpark wasn't licensed. For a few people, it was uncomfortable enough to stop them going to the pub.<br />
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At around the same time, our local police decided to crack down on drink driving. Ok, so police have a job to do and drunk driving is against the law. I get it. But where I live, the pub is the only social outlet the area has to offer and people have to drive for miles to get there. We don't have buses or trains or taxis. For this reason, our local police have traditionally been pretty tolerant about people driving after a few beers (I don't mean pissed out of their brain. Just a few beers). Not so any more. Policing became less about saving lives and more about revenue raising, and police were given monthly targets to meet. All of a sudden, people from surrounding towns (including me) couldn't drive out of the pub without being stopped for an RBT. More people stopped going to the pub.<br />
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Some people started using drugs so they could have a good night out, without being nabbed for drink driving. This also coincided with the introduction of compulsory breath-tests at the local mine, where alcohol from the previous night would show up on the tests, but illicit drugs didn't. For passing the tests, and for staying awake after long hours at work, amphetamines became the drug of choice. Violence and anti-social behaviour, which had NEVER been a problem in my area, began to occur on a regular basis. Even more people stopped going to the pub.<br />
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Then came the massive federal tax increase on beer and spirits. Now, for the price of six beers in the pub, you could buy a whole carton in the bottle shop. For the price of three glasses of spirits, you could buy a whole bottle. Combined with the non-smoking venue, the violence and the increased police attention, almost <em>everyone</em> stopped going to the pub.<br />
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This is how it worked in my town and I believe it's also what happened across the rest of the state. Nobody goes out any more, so yeah, there is less public anti-social behaviour, less street violence, less drunk drivers... But what police and Government don't seem to understand is that it didn't actually go away. It just moved premises.<br />
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In the 'good old days', people would go to the pub. They would automatically limit their alcohol consumption, because they had to drive home and/or because drinks over the bar cost a fortune. If they only had fifty dollars, for example, they might buy five or six drinks. If they had to drive home, they would have even less. They would go home to their families at the end of the night with the giggles and wake up with a slight headache in the morning.<br />
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Nowadays, they don't go to the pub. They drink at home. With their fifty bucks, they can buy a carton of 24 beers, six bottles of cheap wine, or a whole bottle of spirits. They don't have to drive home, they don't have to watch their wallet. They drink to get drunk. They're also missing out on vital social interaction, which (particularly in country towns) leads to feelings of isolation and depression. Domestic violence is just a natural progression. I've seen it. I've experienced it. This is real. <br />
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Our Governments, state and federal, are naive enough to to think that raising the cost of alcohol and over-policing our behaviour will stop us doing things that they consider to be 'bad' for us. Instead, they are bringing out the worst in us. They are oblivious to the nature of drug and alcohol addiction, which can't just be stopped because the price gets too high. They are oblivious to the financial pressure that this puts people under - the more our addictions cost, the more money we spend - the more money we spend, the more debt we accumulate - the more debt we accumulate, the more we rely on our addictions to help us cope with the stress. They are oblivious to the fact that their 'anti-alcohol' measures are actually doubling or tripling the amount that people drink. <br />
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My advice? Stop relying on police, publicans, alcohol manufacturers, etc to tell you how to deal with alcohol and drug-related violence. Ask the people who are experiencing it. Think about what your bandaid measures are doing to our communities. And stop brushing this shit under the carpet. 'Out of sight, out of mind' is NOT solving the problem.delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-9991312969640627552010-06-02T14:06:00.000+08:002010-06-02T14:06:36.983+08:00Happy International Whores Day!The history behind International Whores Day is one of my favourite stories in the whole wide world; demonstrating the determination and resilience of sex workers, the kindness of strangers, and the strength and solidarity of women.<br />
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On the 2nd of June in 1975, around 100 street-based sex workers decided they'd had a gutful of police being more interested in harassing and arresting them, than in solving murders and other crimes committed against them. They took over a church and staged a sit-in, in protest.<br />
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As the days wore on, the police became more and more impatient. Instead of attempting to negotiate with the sex workers and resolve their issues, the police just threatened them with increasingly harsh penalties. When the protesters still showed no sign of backing down after a full week in the church, the police announced that they were going to have the sex workers' children removed from their homes.<br />
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This cruel threat outraged the women of Lyon, who promptly walked into the church and joined the sex workers in solidarity. If you're going to remove the sex workers' children, the women said, then you're going to have to remove ALL our children - because how can you tell the difference between one mother and the next?<br />
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The police eventually stormed the church with batons and the protest ended in violence, but the sex workers' stony determination and the awesome display of solidarity from the women of Lyon empowered others to take a stand, sparking similar protests in Marseilles and Paris. In the end, many of Lyon's sex workers had their fines written off and, more importantly, full-scale police investigations into unsolved sex worker homicides were launched. <br />
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The protest in Lyon inspired sex workers around the globe to organise and become politically active, and the modern sex worker rights movement was born. In 2010, there are hundreds of sex worker organisations, networks, lobby groups and peer-based outreach services, all around the world. In places where sex work is illegal, sex workers rally for better laws and access to justice - where sex work is lawful, sex workers demand better work conditions and an end to discrimination. And across all sectors and in all nations, sex workers <em>continue</em> to fight for the right to have their murders investigated, to not be harassed by police, to not have their children removed, and to be accepted and supported by their community. The basic right to be treated with dignity and respect.<br />
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To sex workers the world over...Happy International Whores Day! May your fight one day be won.delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-525617947607171422010-06-01T05:30:00.002+08:002011-12-14T08:58:13.312+08:00Bogan Bashing (Fuck the Poor)Back in the 80s, <i>bogans</i> were characterised by their black stretch jeans, black DBs, black AC/DC (or Metallica, or Motley Crue, or Gunners) t-shirt, flanno overshirt and mullet. They listened to hard rock, drank copious amounts of beer, drove banged-up utes with big V8s, and...well, that's about it. They were just your average Aussie yobbos. In the area where I grew up, just about everyone could be considered a bogan. The clothes, the utes, the booze, the classic Aussie rock; all standard fare in Western Australian outback towns.<br />
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Today, the word 'bogan' has come to mean something else entirely. It's a little bit <i>yobbo</i> (clothes, booze, music), a little bit <i>trailer trash</i> (domestic violence, anti-social behaviour, uneducated, poor), a little bit <i>dole bludger</i> (unemployed, lazy, "having kids for the welfare") and a little bit<i> redneck</i> (politically conservative, white supremacist, xenophobic, sexist). Everything we hate about humanity, all wrapped up in one neat little flanno-clad package. How convenient.<br />
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But I wouldn't be so worked up about this if it was just a simple issue of semantics. Take a quick look around at the comments on news sites, blogger opinions, etc and you'll see it's so much more than that. This is real <i>hatred</i>. Take a comment I read today, for example (the catalyst for this angry rant):<br />
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<i>"We should sterilise them. Seriously. Generation after generation of bogan filth, milking the welfare system and filling our prisons. It might sound over the top, but if these stupid sluts can't keep their legs closed, it's the only way to end the cycle. We have to stop them breeding".</i><br />
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Someone followed up that post with...<br />
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<i>"Sterilisation? If a racehorse gets hurt and can't earn its owner money, they put it down. We're pouring millions into welfare and what do these bogan cunts give us in return? Nothing. Sterilisation's too good for them. We should be putting the bastards out of their misery".</i> <br />
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Oh lordy, where do I start? I could remind people that forced sterilisation is a suggestion once made to solve the 'problem' of Aboriginal people and, later, the 'problem' of people with disabilities. I could point out that in these days of political correctness, there are very few minority groups that people would dare talk about in that way. But what I really want to draw your attention to is the central premise of both those posts....money. These people hate these so-called 'bogans' because they're POOR. <br />
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When the hell did we become the sort of society that bashes people for <i>living in poverty</i>? <br />
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Australians have always been on the side of the battler. In fact, we're so obsessed with backing the underdog that cutting down Aussies who get too big for their boots is practically a national sport. As a nation, we don't like people who put themselves on a pedestal. We don't allow our politicians, our celebrities, our millionaires, or anyone else to lord it over us. A person may be richer, more powerful, more famous, or more beautiful than you, but they are never 'better' than you.<br />
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So, if our Prime Minister doesn't have the right to think he's better than the rest of us, what gives blue collar workers and housewives the right to think they're better than the average 'bogan'? When did it become ok for everyday folks to crap all over our nation's most vulnerable? When did it become ok to <i>hate</i> someone because they're destitute? If there was ever an example of 'un-Australian'...this is it. It goes against everything we've always claimed to believe in.<br />
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Interestingly, this hatred doesn't dissipate when the poor, lazy "filth" get off their butts and start earning the big bucks. 'Cashed up bogans', the media dubbed them - unskilled, uneducated, flanno-wearing men (and women) who work on the mines, often clearing over $120,000 a year. We hate them when they're poor, but we hate them just as much when they're rich. This time we apparently hate them because they <i>don't deserve it</i>. But I think it's more than that. I think we hate them because they dared to rise above their station. We don't want them sponging off the taxpayers, but we also don't want them having more money or power than 'respectable' folk. We want them to contribute, but they need to remember their place.<br />
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Sadly, due to the aforementioned cultural similarities between 'bogans' and rural West Aussies, country folk are also finding themselves the targets of anti-bogan abuse. A recent news story about the mass closure of Year 11&12 district high school programs across the state (another rant for another time), elicited reader comments that taxpayer funds were "wasted" on educating country people, that they didn't need high school qualifications to get work in the bush, that they might have to reconsider "popping out all those kids", and that they would just have to move to the city "but then they would have to actually get off their arses and get a job". Sound familiar?<br />
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I don't know what started this bogan-bashing trend and I really can't make sense of it. All I know is that the stigma and insults are making disadvantaged people's lives even harder than they already are.delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-36158934901633472702010-04-10T22:10:00.007+08:002010-04-20T14:16:37.193+08:00REVIEW: Scott Sigler - InfectedHorror/SF/Thriller<br />
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From the blurb on the back cover:<br />
<em>“They dropped from the atmosphere like microscopic snow. Billions of seeds, smaller than specks of dust, spiralling down from the heavens. A few survived, and began to grow...”</em> <br />
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When the bad guy is a vampire, an axe murderer, or some other external entity, you at least have a chance to run and hide. When the evil is growing inside you, spreading through your body like a sentient cancer, there is no escape. While this book is chock-full of blood, gore and all manner of violent amputations, it was the idea of being trapped and betrayed by your own body that unsettled me the most.<br />
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<em>“Now three people face a race against time. Dew Phillips, an agent with a classified unit of the CIA, and Margaret Montoya, a government biologist, must try to stop a modern plague that drives its victims to insanity, murder and suicide. </em><br />
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<em>And Perry Dawsey, an ex-footballer in a dead-end job, must race to find a cure for the rash that has appeared on his arm. And his back. And his neck. And which is getting bigger. </em><br />
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<em>And then the voices start...”</em> <br />
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Perry Dawsey wasn’t a particularly pleasant person <em>before</em> the infection. Abused by his wife-bashing father as a child, his pro football dreams dashed by a knee injury at the height of his career, the Perry we meet at the beginning of the book is already a bitter and twisted loser with an anger management problem. And it only gets worse from there. By the end of the book, as we watch the demise of a female ‘infectee’ through Perry’s eyes, his callous disregard for her suffering is nothing short of brutal.<br />
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And yet...I still liked him. I still wanted him to win. No matter how sick his thoughts or actions, you can’t help but recognise the hopelessness of his situation and understand that he has no ‘good’ options available to him – only varying levels of bad and much, much worse. Kudos to Mr Sigler for crafting such a complex and likeable ‘monster’.<br />
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A number of reviewers have compared Scott Sigler's work to that of Stephen King, but I'd be more inclined to liken him to Clive Barker. Sigler's character development is far superior to King's, with even the least significant players, right down to the dead and dying, being treated to their very own backstory and individual personalities. I liked that I could feel the pain of disposable victims, cheer on nameless soldiers, and genuinely mourn the loss of people who had only appeared two pages earlier. <br />
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Scott Sigler is charismatic, smart, charming, mischievous, eloquent and intense – and all of those qualities are reflected in his writing style. The story is fast-paced, the gore is plentiful but not gratuitous, and the underlying paranoia and psychological torment left me feeling unnerved for days.<br />
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<strong><em>Infected</em></strong> is book one of a trilogy. The second book, <strong><em>Contagious</em></strong>, is glaring at me from my bookshelf, gnawing at my insides, demanding to be read immediately. The final book, <em><strong>Pandemic</strong></em>, is yet to be released.<br />
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If you can't find his books in store, <em><strong>Infected</strong></em>, <em><strong>Contagious</strong></em> and countless other novels and short stories are available in the form of podcasts and audiobooks - FOR FREE! - at <a href="http://www.scottsigler.com/">http://www.scottsigler.com/</a><br />
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Scott Sigler's fans call themselves 'Junkies' and I can see why. I'm hooked.delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-91275046881884237922010-04-09T16:48:00.003+08:002010-04-09T22:26:32.114+08:00Pinch me...Omigod. It's been four days since Swancon ended and I'm *still* bouncing around like a ten-year-old on a Fanta binge. <br />
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Swancon is WA's annual science fiction convention. Five days of writer/reader/Torchwood tragic/gamer wet dreams. Geekgasm after geekgasm after geekgasm. I'm left feeling like you should always feel after amazing sex...exhausted and satiated, but still wanting more.<br />
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I still can't believe I got the opportunity to meet the likes of Stephen Dedman, Narrelle M Harris, Dave Luckett (aka L.S. Lawrence) ...chat to the prolific (and totally adorable) Richard Harland ...have a beer with the super-famous and uber-talented Ian Irvine...and, score of all scores, chat/hang/get blind drunk with Swancon international guest of honour, Scott Sigler.<br />
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*sigh* Scott was amazing. FUCKING AMAZING. I will admit up front, as I did when he introduced himself to me, that I had never read any of his work. I'd never even heard of him, which is UTTERLY shameful considering my love for all things horror. I promised that I would buy some of his books - which I did, immediately, (review of <em>'Infected' </em>coming soon) - and bought him a beer, in the desperate hope that he would forgive and forget my transgression. What followed was an awesome couple of days of conversation with a master of horror/thriller/SF fiction. <br />
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Scott commands an audience wherever he goes and his American - and, dare I say, sexy as hell - accent dominated every Swancon conversation. Whenever he spoke, women swooned and men drooled. (Unless he was telling his infamous tapeworm joke, at which point most people would spit their beer and groan. Don't ask!) His fans call him the 'FDO' - Future Dark Overlord - and in public settings it was easy to see why. He is possibly the most charismatic person since The Führer himself. <br />
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But behind closed doors, I discovered the FDO also has a patient and supportive side...a side which, after talking to him for a couple of hours, left me feeling like I could do ANYTHING (as a writer). <br />
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Scott Sigler's writing is a wonder to behold. Scott Sigler, in the flesh, is the most fun a gal can have with her pants on. And Scott Sigler will go down as one of the most inspirational and influential people I have EVER had the good fortune to come across. <br />
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Swancon...you rock. I'll definitely be back next year! (Although I think certain prominent people want to kill me, but that's a whole other story). And Scott...I can't thank you enough. Xdelectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-30380552952594027582010-02-20T14:35:00.001+08:002010-04-24T12:50:13.866+08:00Wake up callI'm not quite sure whether this is trumpet blowing or a cry for help, but I had to say *something* after Shane Jiraiya Cummings added me to a list of 'Women in (Aussie) Horror' on his blog, last night. <a href="http://jiraiyanews.blogspot.com/2010/02/women-in-aussie-horror.html">http://jiraiyanews.blogspot.com/2010/02/women-in-aussie-horror.html</a> Me. A complete nobody. On a list that included some of the most amazing female writing talent this country has ever produced, including the most fabulous of ALL fabulous Australian authors, Kim Wilkins.<br />
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As someone who is utterly terrified of seeing her name in print (handy phobia for a wannabe author, I know), my first reaction was abject horror. The second was overwhelming embarrassment - what if people do as Shane suggests and try to Google me? They ain't gonna find anything! And I will be exposed for the talentless fraud that I am!<br />
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My boyfriend turned up about five minutes later and, adrenaline still coursing through my body, I launched into the ultimate brag session slash pity party...."Omigod, I'm so freakin' excited! I got mentioned in a list alongside my all-time favourite author! What the fuck was he thinking? Now I look like a pathetic wannabe! How am I ever gonna live this down? Omigod, I'm soooo freakin' excited!" (If this is what it feels like to have a novel published, I'm not entirely sure I ever want to go there). <br />
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My long-suffering boyfriend listened patiently while I rambled, occasionally attempting to interrupt with words of encouragement, but after fifteen minutes of me bleating on about being an unpublished nobody, he eventually lost patience and snapped "Well... get off your fuckin' arse and publish something then, you twit!"<br />
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And there you have it. In a nutshell. If I'm not an established author, I only have myself to blame. <br />
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Thank you, Shane (and my tactless but honest boyfriend!) for having faith in me. I shall get my lazy arse into gear, forthwith. xdelectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-5483470432841642322010-02-20T11:57:00.008+08:002010-02-20T13:25:24.475+08:00My son, the emuMy 13 year old son is an emo. The average emo is an awkward teenager with black shirt, skin-tight black jeans, vacant stare and a death wish. My friends and I refer to them as ‘emus’. An emu is a black, awkward-looking bird with gangly legs, that stares blankly into your headlights before launching itself headfirst into your roo-bar. <br />
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Now don't get me wrong. My boy doesn't cop any flak from me about being an emu. One day I heard myself saying to him "Oh my Gawd...what are you wearing?" and the voice was my mother's and a horrifying image of a teenage me in oversized Mickey Mouse shirt, ripped stonewash jeans and red Converse Allstars; complete with frizzy hair, huge plastic hoop earrings and fingerless lace gloves; flashed before my eyes. I never criticised his clothes again. <br />
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I suppose I should admire him for finding one clique and sticking with it. I flitted from one to the next when I was a teenager, usually according to which bloke I was interested in at the time. When I was in highschool, the choices were pretty limited - you were either a skeg (surfer), a skatehead (sk8er) or a bogan. I tried the skeg thing at one point, but as I'm not blonde, can't surf and hate getting beach sand in my undies, that didn't last long. And if my surfing was bad, my skateboarding was even worse, so I had to give the skateheads a miss as well. <br />
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Which is how I became a bogan. The only prerequisites for boganhood were black clothes, a decent collection of Aussie Rock cassettes and an exceedingly high tolerance for alcohol. (As a girl, I managed to sidestep the mullet requirement). We spent most of our days sitting in the back of utes, drinking copious amounts of warm beer and listening to Acca Dacca. My boyfriend, the leader of our illustrious gang, gave me gifts of stolen cheap-shit jewellery and beat up anyone who looked at him sideways. My foray into boganism ended when I started copping the same treatment. <br />
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When I left school, I decided to be a Goth. I shared their fascination with ancient architecture, horror stories and the supernatural, and thought the eye makeup, flowing dresses and boots they wore were dead sexy. However, I didn't know any other Goths, I wasn't really into the music and I have a mortal fear of sharp things, so I ended up just being an angry chick who wrote depressing poetry and dressed like Elvira. <br />
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Eventually it became apparent to me that I just didn't fit well into any box. If these groups were rebelling against conformity by conforming to their group norms, then I was just going to have to rebel against their non-conforming conformity. (Try saying that after your fifth beer). I started hanging out with other social misfits and wore whatever I damn well pleased. <br />
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Twenty years later, I’m still hanging out with misfits and my wardrobe consists of one pair of trusty jeans, a handful of singlets and an op shop jacket. My passions, tastes and hobbies are diverse enough to grant me ‘honourary membership’ to a number of different groups, but too diverse to allow me to truly belong to any of them. And that’s just the way I like it. <br />
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I’m sure my emu son will one day work out who he is and find his place in society. For now, I'm just happy I don't have to be seen in public with my child wearing a fringed jacket, big hair, flouro leg-warmers and a bandanna tied around his thigh …like my poor mother did.delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-10137846379609300592010-02-16T13:05:00.001+08:002012-08-10T04:36:31.909+08:00Keep the Greenough murderer behind bars!One night in 1993, William Mitchell once again tried to sleaze onto (his friend) Karen MacKenzie and once again, she knocked him back. So, later that night, he drove out to her home in Greenough Hamlet and hacked her and her three children to death with an axe. He also raped Karen, both before and after he killed her, and sexually assaulted her 7-year-old daughter Amara. We don't know too much about Amara's assault, or exact details of the deaths of the three children (aged 16, 7 and 5), because the evidence was deemed 'too horrific' to be released to the public and, to this day, remains withheld.<br />
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After dropping some of the 'minor' charges, as they do, Mitchell was charged with four counts of rape and four counts of murder. In Western Australia, the maximum penalty for raping an adult is 14 years. The maximum penalty for raping a child is (from memory) 20 years. The maximum penalty for murder is also 20 years. Police, judges and the general community consider this crime amongst 'the worst' in Western Australian history. To my mind, one of 'the worst' crimes in history should attract maximum penalties, which in this case should mean a grand total of 148 years behind bars.<br />
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William Mitchell got 20 YEARS. That's 5 years in prison for each lost life, and when you take into account the rapes of Karen and Amara, their lives are worth even less.<br />
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Mitchell becomes eligible for parole in 2013. He was recently downgraded as a maximum-security prisoner and moved to a medium-security regional prison - a move that generally indicates the person is nearing release. He will only be in his early 40s on release, so he still has plenty of time to start a new life and live happily ever after. Or plenty of time to kill again, as the case may be. Neither outcome is acceptable, as far as I'm concerned. <br />
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I am not a supporter of the death penalty under ANY circumstances and, in many cases, I support rehabilitation over long-term imprisonment...but NOT in this case. He drove 25kms to get to her house, stayed for a couple of hours raping and murdering them, washed the murder weapon at the house, then dumped it on the way home, miles from the murder scene. That sounds pretty damn premeditated to me! He then had five weeks to feel guilty and give himself up, but instead filled that time trying to set *others* up for the crime. This piece of excrement should remain behind bars FOR THE TERM OF HIS NATURAL LIFE. <br />
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I didn't know Karen, but we had a number of mutual friends. During the five weeks between the murders and when Mitchell was captured, he stayed at one of my mates' houses for a week, got drunk with another of my mates and calmly discussed the killings (not admitting any part in them, of course!), then stayed for a few days (and committed a bizarre and scary act) in the town where I live. For those five weeks, the entire Midwest was living in fear - people who normally don't even lock their doors at night were too scared to walk home from the pub, sleep in the house alone, or let their kids walk themselves to school. It shattered our 'innocence' as a country community and made us fearful of each other. To this day, local people still use the Greenough murders as an example of why we shouldn't be complacent and automatically trust our neighbours... and for that, I will never forgive him. A woman and her children were slaughtered and our way of life was killed in the process. Let the f*cking bastard rot, I say.delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500172920534958359.post-45609426532499283082009-12-15T00:26:00.000+08:002010-02-08T00:45:53.078+08:00When is a rape not a rape?<em>The woman told the court that he pushed her head into the pillow, started suffocating her and had unprotected sex against her will. In his evidence, the accused admitted to using a "lock-down manoeuvre" to pin the woman to the bed when she said she wanted to stop and that "After so much of her screaming, I did muffle her mouth with my hand".</em><br /><br />She claims he took the condom off and had unprotected sex with her, which he denies. But he coughed to pretty much everything else. He continued having sex with her after she'd withdrawn her consent...that's sexual assault. He put her in a headlock and covered her mouth when she screamed...that's aggravated sexual assault. She had scratches and bruises after the attack...that's aggravated sexual assault occasioning bodily harm. Not to mention assault of the non-sexual variety, threatening behaviour, deprivation of liberty, etc.<br /><br />The accused did most of the prosecution's work for them. The woman's story was supported by the perpetrator's own evidence. The jury had their decision handed to them on a plate. So how, pray tell, did the pack of idiots still manage to find this piece of excrement NOT GUILTY?<br /><br />When is a rape not a rape? When it happens in a brothel.<br /><br />Maybe they think it's her own fault for putting herself in that position. Maybe they wanted to teach her a lesson. Maybe they think he bought her body, so he's entitled to do what he wants with it. Maybe they think rape is just part of the job description. Maybe they think whores are perverts and deviants, so she probably enjoyed it. Maybe they think whores are dead inside, so she probably wasn't hurt by it. Maybe they simply didn't believe her story, because whores lie.<br /><br />Or maybe, like many people, they just thought the whole idea of a sex worker saying 'NO' to intercourse was ridiculous. I remember some of the horrifying reader comments on news sites when the story first hit the papers...<br /><br /><blockquote>"Oh, please. Theft of services, maybe. But raping a prostitute? What did she <em>think</em> she was there for?"<br /><br />"She's just trying to get money out of him. He probably just ripped her off or something. This will never make it to court".<br /><br />"Hope she charged him extra for the kinky B&D stuff".<br /><br />"A hooker crying rape? LOL Now I've heard it all".</blockquote><br />When is a rape not a rape? When you rape a whore.delectable_detrimenthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12728180059261632033noreply@blogger.com0