Today marks exactly one month and one day since I arrived back in Brisbane and it seems almost like a lifetime. During that time I have managed to go back to uni, catch up with some (not all) of my old friends, make new friends, find a place to live, buy a bicycle and not get a job. Although my time back in Bris Vegas hasn't been all horrible, the desire to get the hell out of here has overcome me once again, and when I realise that it has only been a month it depresses me to all end. Unless I decide not to finish my degree (which I do), I inevitably have at least 2 years left in Queensland, and that is a best-case-scenario, I could end up dragging that time out if I fail or just simply faff around with my degree. The idea that uni is the only thing keeping me in Brisbane is a horrifying thought, and particularly sad when I remember how much I used to love Brisbane. It is very possible that having come from Townsville, even Brisbane once seemed like a wonderful and amazing metropolis, or perhaps I just visited too many cooler places while I was away.
So today, while I was actively avoiding folding up my clothes and putting them away where they belong (to date I have been sharing my bed with all of my clothes for about 2 weeks, it has been slightly awkward), I was rooting around all of the old crap that hadn't yet been categorised into drawers yet. In my pile of documents, I found the tattered old pages that contained number 1-68 of my bucket list which had been written over about a 2 year period and been dragged all over the world with me. Of course, when I say all over the world I mean the limited countries in the one region that I have visited. But looking at these old pages I realised something. Once upon a time I had dreams. Dreams that motivated and inspired me at one stage. Now I find myself a whinging, pathetic, sad old sausage who writes blogs about how shitty Brisbane is and how I can't find a job. So to remind myself of the ambitious, young dreamer that I once was, and to hopefully inspire myself not to be a loser anymore, I have decided to put up some of the highlights from my bucket list:
Pathetic, sad, old, whinger who complains about everything? It seems nothing has changed.
3) Write a song and perform it on stage: This would first require me a) getting my guitar from Townsville, b) learning to play it c) learning to sing d) writing a song e) finding a stage (other than in a karaoke bar) where I can showcase my lack of talent and make a fool of myself
10) Ride/drive all the way across Central Asia: This has been a dream of mine since I was at school. The plan involves rolling plains, a wide open road and a number of exotic countries ending in -stan. Oh and Russia too. Logistics may be a bit more complicated. But it WILL happen!
14) Earn more money than I can possibly spend: How about earn money period! While being poor certainly forces you to be more creative, there's something alluring about having enough money to be able to go anywhere and do anything in the world. Now how to earn it... hmmm
I would hardly say that I was loaded, but at one point I was earning enough that I could spend on whatever I wanted, and still save quite a lot. Obviously I was constrained by my own inherent stinginess, but I was there at one point (and back to poverty once again).
19) Drop everything to follow a boy: Being selfish is just what I do, but one day it would be nice to find someone I love more than myself (ha!), to the point that I would drop everything to follow. That is, to follow with consent. There will be no creepy stalking here. A restraining order would put a quick end to that dream.
I've realised that it's not selfishness, but cowardice that has held me back from doing this. I'll still leave it on there, but following BL#19 at this point will only end in a restraining order.
22) Teach people to swim: If this ear infection is ever cured then I can go back in the water. And prevent someone from drowning or helping somebody to be able to love the water would be so rewarding.
32) Fly first class: Por favor!!!
38) Sing karaoke in Japan: I love karaoke, and what better pilgrimage than to the birthplace of this wonderful creation.
45) Try ayhuasca: I am all for hallucinogenic drugs, so why not experience it deep in the rain forest with a shaman in my favourite continent.
I did this in Colombia and it was great!! Well, not great in the sense that I particularly enjoyed shitting and vomiting (luckily not at the same time), but it was pretty special. 11/10 would do again.
52) Go to Nimbin Mardi Grass: Road trip buddies anyone? 2012 could be the year.
60) Own a pet snake: Why not?
62) Master the art of being a clown: Something about being in Mexico and being surrounded by clowns made me realise the immense happiness they bring people, and inspired me to share that around. My dad already thinks I'm funny looking, and when I apply make up I usually look like a clown, so I'm already halfway there.
68) Survive a week without food: For starters, let's try for an hour without food, which of course is a mammoth task with all of the lollies, bacon and mi goreng noodles sitting in my cupboard. But thanks to a very privileged life, I have never had to know what it felt like to truly be hungry. Although it will not be a pretty week, any friend who has ever spent enough time with me will know that I am a monster when I am hungry. Imagine a week of that. And multiply it by 10. Uh oh!
I think all of these are real, and legitimate dreams, and it's curious to think that almost 5 years down the track I would leave most of them on the list.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Sunday, March 18, 2012
If I were in Mexico...
Looking outside, and then inside again at the assignments I have already mounting in week 3 (and the mooting problem I signed myself up for to make me feel like less of a moron), I am having some serious Mexico nostalgia. Without a doubt, my time in Mexico was one of my favourite, even in spite of seedy old men and their drive bys in pickup trucks and the lack of direction giving skill. As I sit here feeling sorry for myself, my mind wanders to Mexico and I wonder how much cooler this moment would be if I were there.
What I would be doing this weekend: Either camping at a lovely, white-sand, Pacific beach with a beer and fresh fish for next to nothing or at Cumbre Tajin, a music festival set at some pre-hispanic, Mayan ruins listening to the likes of Bjork and other cool acts.
What I am doing this weekend: Went out last night. Got drunk. Watching McGyver whilst not really doing anything of my assignments.
What the weather in Mexico is like: Sunny and mild (in Cholula). As winter turns into spring, the days are getting longer and hotter and the jackets are lighter than the depths of winter.
The weather in Brisbane: Dull, grey and rainy.
The state of my stomach in Mexico: In Mexico, a taco stand is never more than 5 minutes away and a supermarket (or a friend's house) even less. Food is so cheap that I would not think twice about heading out for a greasy, cheese dripping torta with either a beer or a litre of freshly squeezed juice.
The state of my stomach currently: I am hungry, yet unmotivated to walk to the kitchen to heat up the steamed vegetables, which is the only thing I have left because I have no money until my weekly welfare payment comes in. I am about 30 minutes walk from a supermarket or McDonalds if I did choose to venture out for food and put in on the credit card, meaning that it's either veggies or nothing for now.
What my weekday routine in Mexico would be: Wake up as late as I want and ride my bike over the flat terrain to yoga. Feel refreshed and healthy and buy a litre of carrot and orange juice. Go to uni for muy poco tiempo before visiting a friend's house to hang out, eat, perhaps go out and plan any weekend adventures. I would ride my bike around the flat streets to random corners of Cholula, where there are weird and odd things to be seen on a daily basis.
The weekly routine here: Get woken up at 7:30am by power tools and faff around watching some form of morning show until I head to uni. Study, read, listen to lectures, eat a sausage roll, go to the lolly shop on campus and then either go home or go out. The days I catch the bus, I fork out $1.50 each way and sit there like a numb, zombie for 30 minutes as I stare out the window, while on days that I ride my bike, I arrive at uni sweaty, smelly and gross animal and wonder why I decided to live in a place with so many hills.
So now that my self-pitying rant is over, it's time to go and change something. Brisbane is certainly not Mexico but it can be pretty cool if you search and choose to engage in it. Sadly it will be a while before I can get back to Mexico and eat a real taco and see all of my wonderful friends there again, but for now I'm stuck in Brisbane and it's about time to stop being a sad sack and live it up.
I WANT TO BE IN MEXICO RIGHT NOW!!! TAKE ME BACK THERE!!!
What I would be doing this weekend: Either camping at a lovely, white-sand, Pacific beach with a beer and fresh fish for next to nothing or at Cumbre Tajin, a music festival set at some pre-hispanic, Mayan ruins listening to the likes of Bjork and other cool acts.
What I am doing this weekend: Went out last night. Got drunk. Watching McGyver whilst not really doing anything of my assignments.
What the weather in Mexico is like: Sunny and mild (in Cholula). As winter turns into spring, the days are getting longer and hotter and the jackets are lighter than the depths of winter.
The weather in Brisbane: Dull, grey and rainy.
The state of my stomach in Mexico: In Mexico, a taco stand is never more than 5 minutes away and a supermarket (or a friend's house) even less. Food is so cheap that I would not think twice about heading out for a greasy, cheese dripping torta with either a beer or a litre of freshly squeezed juice.
The state of my stomach currently: I am hungry, yet unmotivated to walk to the kitchen to heat up the steamed vegetables, which is the only thing I have left because I have no money until my weekly welfare payment comes in. I am about 30 minutes walk from a supermarket or McDonalds if I did choose to venture out for food and put in on the credit card, meaning that it's either veggies or nothing for now.
What my weekday routine in Mexico would be: Wake up as late as I want and ride my bike over the flat terrain to yoga. Feel refreshed and healthy and buy a litre of carrot and orange juice. Go to uni for muy poco tiempo before visiting a friend's house to hang out, eat, perhaps go out and plan any weekend adventures. I would ride my bike around the flat streets to random corners of Cholula, where there are weird and odd things to be seen on a daily basis.
The weekly routine here: Get woken up at 7:30am by power tools and faff around watching some form of morning show until I head to uni. Study, read, listen to lectures, eat a sausage roll, go to the lolly shop on campus and then either go home or go out. The days I catch the bus, I fork out $1.50 each way and sit there like a numb, zombie for 30 minutes as I stare out the window, while on days that I ride my bike, I arrive at uni sweaty, smelly and gross animal and wonder why I decided to live in a place with so many hills.
So now that my self-pitying rant is over, it's time to go and change something. Brisbane is certainly not Mexico but it can be pretty cool if you search and choose to engage in it. Sadly it will be a while before I can get back to Mexico and eat a real taco and see all of my wonderful friends there again, but for now I'm stuck in Brisbane and it's about time to stop being a sad sack and live it up.
I WANT TO BE IN MEXICO RIGHT NOW!!! TAKE ME BACK THERE!!!
Friday, March 9, 2012
Kony Baloney and the Viral Video big thing of the week
What do Rebecca Black and Invisible Children have in common? Well you have it folks, it's official. Kony 2012 is the new cool thing. And what better hot new thing than one that people can feel good about, after all, we all feel a bit gooey inside after watching this well-produced and emotive video promoting social justice and the bringing down of an evil warlord don't we? For those who have been living under a rock for the past 2 days, or at least haven't been checking facebook (although curiously enough if you're reading this you have probably heard about Kony), the newest, hottest viral video going around is a short, bite-sized doco about the invisible children and the evil dictator Joseph Kony who has been wreaking havoc on Uganda. So far, at least 100 facebook friends of mine have re-posted the link to the video and are flogging the message and really getting it out there. While it would have to be agreed that anyone who watched this and didn't feel at least a twinge of pain and sympathy for those children is without a heart, I find it curious that people are becoming facebook activists overnight thanks to a clever PR plan and a nice video.
For the longest time, I always wondered why my fellow Australians (and friends from all places) seemed so apathetic. Was it because they are ignorant to the issues? After all, the mainstream media isn't exactly raving about injustices in Uganda. Or was it because people felt helpless, unable to do anything to provide answers, creating a helplessness - inaction - apathy cycle that paralysed them? It seems that now, thanks to the prolific spread of an easy to follow, feel good documentary that opened up to people the horrors that are occurring in Africa. Thanks to social media, people are jumping the bandwagon and learning more about the issues being faced and re-distributing that information. While education is the first step to eliminating ignorance and finding a solution to these problems, one has to wonder what happens next? Is posting a link really going to do anything for the situation, rather than show how kind, politically aware and committed someone is to the cause? At least everyone will know that the keen facebooker is an activist, and is down with the new social media networking craze. They can then donate 20c to buy a poster of Kony from the website in order to plaster walls and light posts. Or perhaps spend a night sleeping in street to show solidarity with the night commuters under the Kony regime. Then our little activists can really feel like they are making a difference. Err...
Is it just me or does anybody else see this as a shallow, self-obsessed marketing ploy created to make a big name for some fame-whore, uni students and make facebook, hipster activists feel good about themselves? Let's think, what is the video suggesting is done about this atrocity? Spend money to buy posters to further flog this campaign? So the money goes to Invisible Children Inc. in order to save Uganda and no doubt line the pockets of these enterprising, sensationalist, media sluts. Anybody who has ever read anything about what aid has done to Africa and what resulted from money being thrown at the continent will realise that the entire concept is a very dumb idea. What's more, some activists are proposing that people sleep in the streets for a night to show solidarity for the Ugandan children. What a great idea! Why not stage a giant sleepover for all of the self-indulgent hipsters who can all feel warm and fuzzy while they throw even more media attention at the issue. I wonder if the police would arrest and harass them as they did with the Occupy movements, or if the promise to return to their comfortable beds and be quiet until the next big thing comes along would keep the police happy. One would assume that it would take quite a clever and creative thinking group to create such a pretty video and generate such a campaign that has mobilised a generation and gone viral within days. Why then, did they not come up with any more substantive and useful solutions to such an issue, or even encourage any intelligent thought by the zombified masses?
Dissemination of information is absolutely crucial and I admit that awareness of such information is only a good thing. Kony is a monster and absolutely needs to be brought to justice, however, what is being done? While I am not encouraging nor promoting any kind of vigilante justice be carried out by facebook activists, are people simply expecting that the government will go in with guns and deal with the problem? Is that even a smart option? The next thing for people to do now that they have the information is not to re-post the link on facebook, shovel money into this Invisible Children Inc. of dubious intentions or usefulness nor forget about the problem after doing their thing and giving their facebook wall for the issue. Why doesn't Invisible Children promote or stimulate some kind of discussion and debate over what could be done? If people talk about the problem, maybe they will come up with some kind of a creative solution that won't screw the country of Uganda in the process (if you haven't already, I would recommend reading something, anything, about the impact that foreign aid has had on Africa). Get informed about the issue, a 27 minute documentary is not nearly enough information to understand the situation or the greater context. Write a letter or email to somebody who can do something about it (note: Bob Carr is the current foreign minister, he doesn't give a crap if you post something on your facebook wall about Kony, nor that you feel strongly about it, tell him what YOU, not a retarded Michael Moore wannabe, think about it).
As for the filmmakers, I hope they are snapped up by a big network who will pay them a lot of money. Their PR stunt and sensationalist reporting style will make them perfect for a Fox News or News Ltd. type corporation who could definitely use some clever spin and marketing. While I don't doubt that the doco is completely true, and that Kony is a horrible human being, I am cynical of the hypocrisy of activism flaunted as the next big thing. As for Rebecca Black and Invisible Children? Both are viral hits, bound to be forgotten as soon as they were popular. Unless people truly want to see a change and are willing to dedicate a little time and perhaps some brain to the issue, in which case anything is possible. Let's see something good come out of this!
Much edgy. Wow. Such unique. Interestingly the same kind of commentary/crap seems to have proliferated since early 2012, and boring and trite posts like this are made ALL THE TIME in 2015 and appear on all news blogs across the world. My self righteous raving is not new or special, and like everyone predicted Kony is so 2012.
Update: The guy who made the video/social media campaign had a mental breakdown after being overwhelmed by the fame and support that he found that he was arrested for wanking in public in San Diego or something. That certainly gave me a good chuckle. And continues to do so to this day.
For the longest time, I always wondered why my fellow Australians (and friends from all places) seemed so apathetic. Was it because they are ignorant to the issues? After all, the mainstream media isn't exactly raving about injustices in Uganda. Or was it because people felt helpless, unable to do anything to provide answers, creating a helplessness - inaction - apathy cycle that paralysed them? It seems that now, thanks to the prolific spread of an easy to follow, feel good documentary that opened up to people the horrors that are occurring in Africa. Thanks to social media, people are jumping the bandwagon and learning more about the issues being faced and re-distributing that information. While education is the first step to eliminating ignorance and finding a solution to these problems, one has to wonder what happens next? Is posting a link really going to do anything for the situation, rather than show how kind, politically aware and committed someone is to the cause? At least everyone will know that the keen facebooker is an activist, and is down with the new social media networking craze. They can then donate 20c to buy a poster of Kony from the website in order to plaster walls and light posts. Or perhaps spend a night sleeping in street to show solidarity with the night commuters under the Kony regime. Then our little activists can really feel like they are making a difference. Err...
Is it just me or does anybody else see this as a shallow, self-obsessed marketing ploy created to make a big name for some fame-whore, uni students and make facebook, hipster activists feel good about themselves? Let's think, what is the video suggesting is done about this atrocity? Spend money to buy posters to further flog this campaign? So the money goes to Invisible Children Inc. in order to save Uganda and no doubt line the pockets of these enterprising, sensationalist, media sluts. Anybody who has ever read anything about what aid has done to Africa and what resulted from money being thrown at the continent will realise that the entire concept is a very dumb idea. What's more, some activists are proposing that people sleep in the streets for a night to show solidarity for the Ugandan children. What a great idea! Why not stage a giant sleepover for all of the self-indulgent hipsters who can all feel warm and fuzzy while they throw even more media attention at the issue. I wonder if the police would arrest and harass them as they did with the Occupy movements, or if the promise to return to their comfortable beds and be quiet until the next big thing comes along would keep the police happy. One would assume that it would take quite a clever and creative thinking group to create such a pretty video and generate such a campaign that has mobilised a generation and gone viral within days. Why then, did they not come up with any more substantive and useful solutions to such an issue, or even encourage any intelligent thought by the zombified masses?
Dissemination of information is absolutely crucial and I admit that awareness of such information is only a good thing. Kony is a monster and absolutely needs to be brought to justice, however, what is being done? While I am not encouraging nor promoting any kind of vigilante justice be carried out by facebook activists, are people simply expecting that the government will go in with guns and deal with the problem? Is that even a smart option? The next thing for people to do now that they have the information is not to re-post the link on facebook, shovel money into this Invisible Children Inc. of dubious intentions or usefulness nor forget about the problem after doing their thing and giving their facebook wall for the issue. Why doesn't Invisible Children promote or stimulate some kind of discussion and debate over what could be done? If people talk about the problem, maybe they will come up with some kind of a creative solution that won't screw the country of Uganda in the process (if you haven't already, I would recommend reading something, anything, about the impact that foreign aid has had on Africa). Get informed about the issue, a 27 minute documentary is not nearly enough information to understand the situation or the greater context. Write a letter or email to somebody who can do something about it (note: Bob Carr is the current foreign minister, he doesn't give a crap if you post something on your facebook wall about Kony, nor that you feel strongly about it, tell him what YOU, not a retarded Michael Moore wannabe, think about it).
As for the filmmakers, I hope they are snapped up by a big network who will pay them a lot of money. Their PR stunt and sensationalist reporting style will make them perfect for a Fox News or News Ltd. type corporation who could definitely use some clever spin and marketing. While I don't doubt that the doco is completely true, and that Kony is a horrible human being, I am cynical of the hypocrisy of activism flaunted as the next big thing. As for Rebecca Black and Invisible Children? Both are viral hits, bound to be forgotten as soon as they were popular. Unless people truly want to see a change and are willing to dedicate a little time and perhaps some brain to the issue, in which case anything is possible. Let's see something good come out of this!
Much edgy. Wow. Such unique. Interestingly the same kind of commentary/crap seems to have proliferated since early 2012, and boring and trite posts like this are made ALL THE TIME in 2015 and appear on all news blogs across the world. My self righteous raving is not new or special, and like everyone predicted Kony is so 2012.
Update: The guy who made the video/social media campaign had a mental breakdown after being overwhelmed by the fame and support that he found that he was arrested for wanking in public in San Diego or something. That certainly gave me a good chuckle. And continues to do so to this day.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
I hate Hipsters
Hipsters are nothing new. Their narcissism, repulsion to anything mainstream and condescending and pretentious natures are common elements held by hipsters all over the world, from Mexico to Seattle (arguably the birthplace of the hipster fad) and even to Brisbane. Although hipsterism in Brisbane is probably not a recent thing, heck, Brisbane does eventually succumb to the fashion trends of the cooler more socially progressive cities, and it was only ever going to be a matter of time before hipsters started popping up in large groups. Last night I ventured into the Valley for the first time since being back in this lovely city and the scene shocked me. All through the Brunswick St Mall, in clubs and bars which I remember as being quite down to earth, unpretentious and CHEAP were poor imitations of what was once different and cool.
Unfortunately, Brisbane is not so much as a trend-setting city as much as a fashion following location, and of course the fashion of the moment is alternative fashion. Which once upon a time meant different and unique style, something that wasn't found in every other chain store in any given mall in whatever part of the world you happened to be in. But it seems that clothing which would have been scoffed at only 5 years ago by the fashionistas has been picked up by marketers and flogged to the world, and sold to the young boys and girls as alternative. After all, who doesn't want to think that they are trendy and unique? The fashion following youth of the Valley can now call themselves 'cool' after having dropped a lot of money in Universal Store for some alternative and different rags from everyone else, and cool people are allowed to carry that little extra chip on their shoulder for being so unique. They are unique, anti-trend-following hipsters, and we normal people should give them some credit for their creativity.
I will however concede that blind fashion followers are nothing of a new thing, and to pay out on every fashion forward filly would be a huge over-generalisation. The issue comes when fashion houses and the media are selling alternativism as a trend. What a person wears, realistically is only the tip of the iceberg. When people develop the idea that they are the unique trendsetters, they tend to become conceited and up-themselves. So exist hipsters, a cynical and naive brand of degenerates whose narcissism is manifested through a sense of self-idolisation and derision for anything considered mainstream. Hipsterism is marketed in such a way that hipsters don't consider themselves mainstream, nor followers of a trend, but as rather unique and alternative. The mentality that comes from this trend is essentially the issue (rather than the horrible glasses or ridiculous fashion) and makes me shudder when I realise truly how dumb some people are.
Once upon a time there were people who dressed differently. They were creative, bold and daring and wore their hearts and beliefs on their sleeves, even though they were mocked for their silly style. (I am totally not talking about myself here, anyone who knows me is quite aware that I am one of the most unfashionable people in the world). These days, people are trying to one-up each other with their most extravagant pieces and establish themselves as the most alternative hipster of them all. Fashion is about shock value and has created a mentality where a person defines themselves by how different and un-mainstream they can be. That is not to say that alternative and different is bad, heck, I respect and admire creative and bold people who aren't afraid to go a bit further; however I do roll my eyes when 'alternative' comes from the new-look racks of Queen St Mall in the arms of a smug little hipster berating her retarded friends on their "totally mainstream" life choices.
HOW TO KNOW IF YOUR FRIEND IS A HIPSTER (or yourself)
#1
They use mainstream and well-known as insults when referring to music, fashion, ideas, people etc.
#2
They have never been much of a risk-taker when it comes to new things, but now they are constantly trying to out-dress and out-do anyone who could potentially be more alternative than them.
#3
They are condescending, arrogant and not particularly pleasant to be around.
#4
Their (normally mainstream) taste has changed rapidly, they did not 'get into' sub-culture gradually, rather their record collection and wardrobe almost changed overnight.
#5
They don't need glasses but they suddenly have big, tacky, obnoxious ones planted on their face. Purely for show. Because they are so different and cool.
If you find your friend has become a hipster, don't be alarmed. Approach them with caution. Hipsters are like members of hard-core religious cults, they have been brainwashed so comprehensively that any opposition to their blind consumerism will be completely wasted on them. Rather, sit down and gently explain to them that they are one of many suckers who have been taken in by the media-driven belief that buying lensless raybans will make them unique and cool. Encourage them to be true to themselves and follow their judgement and taste, rather than the shopfront mannequins in expensive, sifted 'vintage' stores. If they are not entirely vapid and conceited and they are still relatively pleasant to be around, just try to ignore their hipsterness and just wait for the next trend to roll in. It should only be another year or so. Or until stores have sold all of their fixed-gear bikes and fringed boots.
You know what is hipster? Writing a post about how much you hate hipsters and their commercialised alternativism. So basically, 21 year old me who wrote this tripe was a retarded hipster. No. A hipster hater. Which makes me the most hipster of them all.
If I could forget this rant I would, but for posterity I think it's always good to reflect on how stupid you were once upon a time.
Unfortunately, Brisbane is not so much as a trend-setting city as much as a fashion following location, and of course the fashion of the moment is alternative fashion. Which once upon a time meant different and unique style, something that wasn't found in every other chain store in any given mall in whatever part of the world you happened to be in. But it seems that clothing which would have been scoffed at only 5 years ago by the fashionistas has been picked up by marketers and flogged to the world, and sold to the young boys and girls as alternative. After all, who doesn't want to think that they are trendy and unique? The fashion following youth of the Valley can now call themselves 'cool' after having dropped a lot of money in Universal Store for some alternative and different rags from everyone else, and cool people are allowed to carry that little extra chip on their shoulder for being so unique. They are unique, anti-trend-following hipsters, and we normal people should give them some credit for their creativity.
I will however concede that blind fashion followers are nothing of a new thing, and to pay out on every fashion forward filly would be a huge over-generalisation. The issue comes when fashion houses and the media are selling alternativism as a trend. What a person wears, realistically is only the tip of the iceberg. When people develop the idea that they are the unique trendsetters, they tend to become conceited and up-themselves. So exist hipsters, a cynical and naive brand of degenerates whose narcissism is manifested through a sense of self-idolisation and derision for anything considered mainstream. Hipsterism is marketed in such a way that hipsters don't consider themselves mainstream, nor followers of a trend, but as rather unique and alternative. The mentality that comes from this trend is essentially the issue (rather than the horrible glasses or ridiculous fashion) and makes me shudder when I realise truly how dumb some people are.
Once upon a time there were people who dressed differently. They were creative, bold and daring and wore their hearts and beliefs on their sleeves, even though they were mocked for their silly style. (I am totally not talking about myself here, anyone who knows me is quite aware that I am one of the most unfashionable people in the world). These days, people are trying to one-up each other with their most extravagant pieces and establish themselves as the most alternative hipster of them all. Fashion is about shock value and has created a mentality where a person defines themselves by how different and un-mainstream they can be. That is not to say that alternative and different is bad, heck, I respect and admire creative and bold people who aren't afraid to go a bit further; however I do roll my eyes when 'alternative' comes from the new-look racks of Queen St Mall in the arms of a smug little hipster berating her retarded friends on their "totally mainstream" life choices.
HOW TO KNOW IF YOUR FRIEND IS A HIPSTER (or yourself)
#1
They use mainstream and well-known as insults when referring to music, fashion, ideas, people etc.
#2
They have never been much of a risk-taker when it comes to new things, but now they are constantly trying to out-dress and out-do anyone who could potentially be more alternative than them.
#3
They are condescending, arrogant and not particularly pleasant to be around.
#4
Their (normally mainstream) taste has changed rapidly, they did not 'get into' sub-culture gradually, rather their record collection and wardrobe almost changed overnight.
#5
They don't need glasses but they suddenly have big, tacky, obnoxious ones planted on their face. Purely for show. Because they are so different and cool.
If you find your friend has become a hipster, don't be alarmed. Approach them with caution. Hipsters are like members of hard-core religious cults, they have been brainwashed so comprehensively that any opposition to their blind consumerism will be completely wasted on them. Rather, sit down and gently explain to them that they are one of many suckers who have been taken in by the media-driven belief that buying lensless raybans will make them unique and cool. Encourage them to be true to themselves and follow their judgement and taste, rather than the shopfront mannequins in expensive, sifted 'vintage' stores. If they are not entirely vapid and conceited and they are still relatively pleasant to be around, just try to ignore their hipsterness and just wait for the next trend to roll in. It should only be another year or so. Or until stores have sold all of their fixed-gear bikes and fringed boots.
You know what is hipster? Writing a post about how much you hate hipsters and their commercialised alternativism. So basically, 21 year old me who wrote this tripe was a retarded hipster. No. A hipster hater. Which makes me the most hipster of them all.
If I could forget this rant I would, but for posterity I think it's always good to reflect on how stupid you were once upon a time.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
A rant about Queensland Health
So before I launch into a very scathing rant about a system that has so many holes, it may as well be a sieve, I suppose I do have to be grateful for a few things. For one, I am grateful that there IS public health care in Australia, and that medical care is provided without cost. This means, that hypothetically, should I be dying, the system would come to my rescue and save my life. Also, the doctors today were very friendly. Their bedside manner was lovely and they did seem to be doing everything they could to help.
AND NOW FOR THE MAIN EVENT... I don't know if I can say that Queensland Health generally sucks, but I can without a doubt say that the PA hospital absolutely does! Having never been to a public hospital emergency room before, I was nowhere near ready for the nightmare that was set to follow. Although I heard stories and was told to bring a book and be patient, I didn't realise how painful the experience could be. Firstly, having had an ear infection for the past few weeks, I went to the uni medical clinic, where I was told that the doctor there couldn't see the eardrum underneath all the crap on it and that I would have to go to the emergency room to have said crap removed before anybody could determine what was wrong with me. FAIR ENOUGH! The clinic didn't have the time or resources to do it, I can understand that. So off I went to the hospital. Even though there were never more than a grand total of 5 people in the emergency room the entire time, somehow it still took 3 HOURS for me to be seen by a doctor. While I realise that an ear infection that isn't immediately causing pain probably isn't life threatening, it seemed that my position in the queue was just going backwards as I sat and waited, with only the company of terrible daytime TV and Who Magazines.
I also noted, while I sat there and contemplated whether or not to stab myself, thus bumping up my position in line, that pretty much everyone in the ER was FAT! Now here is a curious thought, perhaps if people resisted the fried chicken and extra large fries every once in a while they may not have as many health problems, thus freeing up some medical professionals to address my ear infection. OH HANG ON! Fat people choking up the health system in the way that cholesterol chokes up fat peoples' arteries? NEVER! One thing I did not notice in the ER however, were classy, rich looking people. Not even classy per se, just not white trash types. Perhaps it's because anyone with a real job would have private health insurance, so that their ear infections and medical ailments could be fixed up in less than say, A FEW WEEKS!
And then of course, I made it to see a doctor. She was lovely. She also looked like she was about 20. But I won't judge a book by it's cover, although I do feel much more at ease with a greying, wise old looking doctor; but everyone has to learn somewhere. So after looking into my ear and learning that it whistles when I blow out and block my nose, and that nasty coloured shit oozes from it, she went to another doctor. The second doctor (a registrar apparently) did the same thing, looked into my ear and concluded that he couldn't see anything. OH REALLY? So I asked him if he could clean it out, swab away the shit and figure out what was wrong with it, like my lovely doctor at UQ told me. He chuckled. "Oh we can't do that. You'll have to see a specialist for that." SO WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN DOING FOR THE PAST 10 YEARS OF YOUR LIFE THEN!? Partying? Getting stoned? Not all doctors can be masters of all trades but is it seriously that hard to swab at an ear? To tell me what is wrong? If the emergency department at the PA doesn't have suction gear or some cotton swabs then I am seriously concerned at the state of the health system. Nonetheless, I was referred to an ENT specialist, who would be able to tell me what is wrong, and god forbid, even begin to treat it. So the doctor called the clinic to book me into the system so that I may be able to have an appointment. But lo and behold! The specialist clinic was shut. And I can't call them, I have to wait for them to call me, to schedule an appointment, which can only be done on a Tuesday or Thursday because that's the only day they're open. And they will call me sometime in the next 14 days, just to schedule it. WHAT THE FUCK? (I believe swearing is appropriate here because it is truly appalling).
Queensland has never been renowned for getting things right, after all, we are kind of the joke of the entire nation for good reasons. There's no wonder Queensland public health staff have the highest suicide rates of any. Actually I completely made up that statistic, although I imagine that for people who give their lives to helping others (or earn a fat pay cheque), being so incredibly helpless must mess with their mental health quite a bit. I'm sure that the system works well for people who are actually dying, heck, maybe if I go for a swim and allow my inner ear to fill with water, cause myself brain damage and lose my hearing I might be treated in a few days (as opposed to a few weeks).
I guess the lesson learned from this experience is that I should work hard, get a good job, get private health insurance and not worry about which way I tilt my head while I shower for risk of seriously damaging myself. Or move interstate.
What can I expect? If you want something done well you have to pay for it. If you don't pay, then you'll get slow old peanuts. I think the ear infection eventually went away on its own and I was (mostly) fine after that, so all's well that ends well.
Still, having seen some pretty average treatment in hospitals of the third world, it's hard to say whether I would prefer Queensland Health to some Cambodian clinic. Hearing is a pretty important sense, and I would be livid if a bunch of cowboys just went in there and did more damage, so I guess I can appreciate the prudence of the doctors at the PA, although it is frustrating.
AND NOW FOR THE MAIN EVENT... I don't know if I can say that Queensland Health generally sucks, but I can without a doubt say that the PA hospital absolutely does! Having never been to a public hospital emergency room before, I was nowhere near ready for the nightmare that was set to follow. Although I heard stories and was told to bring a book and be patient, I didn't realise how painful the experience could be. Firstly, having had an ear infection for the past few weeks, I went to the uni medical clinic, where I was told that the doctor there couldn't see the eardrum underneath all the crap on it and that I would have to go to the emergency room to have said crap removed before anybody could determine what was wrong with me. FAIR ENOUGH! The clinic didn't have the time or resources to do it, I can understand that. So off I went to the hospital. Even though there were never more than a grand total of 5 people in the emergency room the entire time, somehow it still took 3 HOURS for me to be seen by a doctor. While I realise that an ear infection that isn't immediately causing pain probably isn't life threatening, it seemed that my position in the queue was just going backwards as I sat and waited, with only the company of terrible daytime TV and Who Magazines.
I also noted, while I sat there and contemplated whether or not to stab myself, thus bumping up my position in line, that pretty much everyone in the ER was FAT! Now here is a curious thought, perhaps if people resisted the fried chicken and extra large fries every once in a while they may not have as many health problems, thus freeing up some medical professionals to address my ear infection. OH HANG ON! Fat people choking up the health system in the way that cholesterol chokes up fat peoples' arteries? NEVER! One thing I did not notice in the ER however, were classy, rich looking people. Not even classy per se, just not white trash types. Perhaps it's because anyone with a real job would have private health insurance, so that their ear infections and medical ailments could be fixed up in less than say, A FEW WEEKS!
And then of course, I made it to see a doctor. She was lovely. She also looked like she was about 20. But I won't judge a book by it's cover, although I do feel much more at ease with a greying, wise old looking doctor; but everyone has to learn somewhere. So after looking into my ear and learning that it whistles when I blow out and block my nose, and that nasty coloured shit oozes from it, she went to another doctor. The second doctor (a registrar apparently) did the same thing, looked into my ear and concluded that he couldn't see anything. OH REALLY? So I asked him if he could clean it out, swab away the shit and figure out what was wrong with it, like my lovely doctor at UQ told me. He chuckled. "Oh we can't do that. You'll have to see a specialist for that." SO WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN DOING FOR THE PAST 10 YEARS OF YOUR LIFE THEN!? Partying? Getting stoned? Not all doctors can be masters of all trades but is it seriously that hard to swab at an ear? To tell me what is wrong? If the emergency department at the PA doesn't have suction gear or some cotton swabs then I am seriously concerned at the state of the health system. Nonetheless, I was referred to an ENT specialist, who would be able to tell me what is wrong, and god forbid, even begin to treat it. So the doctor called the clinic to book me into the system so that I may be able to have an appointment. But lo and behold! The specialist clinic was shut. And I can't call them, I have to wait for them to call me, to schedule an appointment, which can only be done on a Tuesday or Thursday because that's the only day they're open. And they will call me sometime in the next 14 days, just to schedule it. WHAT THE FUCK? (I believe swearing is appropriate here because it is truly appalling).
Queensland has never been renowned for getting things right, after all, we are kind of the joke of the entire nation for good reasons. There's no wonder Queensland public health staff have the highest suicide rates of any. Actually I completely made up that statistic, although I imagine that for people who give their lives to helping others (or earn a fat pay cheque), being so incredibly helpless must mess with their mental health quite a bit. I'm sure that the system works well for people who are actually dying, heck, maybe if I go for a swim and allow my inner ear to fill with water, cause myself brain damage and lose my hearing I might be treated in a few days (as opposed to a few weeks).
I guess the lesson learned from this experience is that I should work hard, get a good job, get private health insurance and not worry about which way I tilt my head while I shower for risk of seriously damaging myself. Or move interstate.
What can I expect? If you want something done well you have to pay for it. If you don't pay, then you'll get slow old peanuts. I think the ear infection eventually went away on its own and I was (mostly) fine after that, so all's well that ends well.
Still, having seen some pretty average treatment in hospitals of the third world, it's hard to say whether I would prefer Queensland Health to some Cambodian clinic. Hearing is a pretty important sense, and I would be livid if a bunch of cowboys just went in there and did more damage, so I guess I can appreciate the prudence of the doctors at the PA, although it is frustrating.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)