On Dit Issue 79.8 by On Dit

Adelaide University Student Magazine

Vol. 79 / Issue 8 Featuring:

Contents Vox POP

Degrees of Knowledge

SCIENCE! Mind Control

Checkout chicks are people too

Working with the Man

SOME FUNNY STUFF PEOPLE TOLD US ON FACEBOOK ABOUT WORK

ORGANIC FOOD

Disabling Disability

ISRAEL / PALESTINE: a one state solution

PHOTO ESSAY: The Spider And The Fly

SAATCHI GALLERY IN ADELAIDE

Local Band Bio: Hit the Jackpot

Food Review : The Deli

cooking with Garf: Cookie Pizza

TOUR DE FRANCE

Columns

Diversions

State Of The Union

Go to www.ondit.com.au if youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re not a square, or become our friend: www.facebook.com/onditmagazine Editors: Sam Deere, Elizabeth Flux & Rory Kennett-Lister Cover + Inside Front + Back Cover photos by Billy Horn Inside Back illustration by Annie Rudduck On Dit is an affiliate of the Adelaide University Union Published 8/8/2011

Volume 79, Issue 8

EDITORIAL Elizabeth

Sam

Rory Being an editor at of one of the most prestigious magazines in the country, nay, the world, you might surmise that I have a bit of a thing for words. You’d be right. But words aren’t just about communication. (Well, that’s not strictly true, words are almost exclusively about communication.) But, like the cautious consumer, squinting at the incomprehensible Cyrillic script adorning a packet of imported cookies from the Reject Shop, I sometimes like to investigate the origins of things that pass my lips. Consider the name of the foul-tasting energy drink that I’m currently using as a substitute for sleep (this magazine doesn’t lay itself out, you ungrateful bastards). Why Red Bull? Well, because the primary palpitation-inducing chemical in Red Bull is called Taurine. ‘Taurine’ comes from the Latin word taurus, meaning ‘bull’. Or rather, the word ‘taurine’ comes from the Latin for bull. Actual taurine comes from the bile of actual bulls (yes, as in bovine intestinal juice). Amazingly, the ‘Meister isn’t the grossest component part of a Jägerbomb. Assuming that I was in a state to contemplate drinking such a beverage (tasting, as it does, of cough syrup and regret), I might be tempted to harass the bar staff, or amble into a nearby Reject Shop and yell racist things

about the cookies. Fortunately, this edition of On Dit has shown me the error of my ways; reading this Issue’s special coverage of workplace follies and customer complaints, I’ll be more careful next time I rage out at 3AM. If I wanted to detox the next day, I might be tempted to don my Ray-Bans and head to my nearest organic farmer’s market for an organic carrot and organic celery organic juice. But again, On Dit sets me straight regarding the regulatory headfuck that surrounds organic food labelling — maybe I’ll stick to hair of the dog. If I need information about contemporary art collectors, the Arab-Israeli conflict, the cultural construction of ‘disability’, or how to jump on the Tour de France bandwagon, this magazine has me covered (and given how often those subjects simultaneously crop up in conversation, you’d be mad not to read cover-to-cover).

On Dit is an indispensable read: you’ll never make a faux pas, be ignorant of important issues, or be short of witty conversation again. Just make sure you don’t use bovinederived stimulants while engaging with it. Otherwise you just end up talking bull.

On Dit Magazine

Best, Sam (and Rory and Liz)

Contributors Illustrator / Photographer Billy Horn (Cover; Inside cover; Back Cover; “checkout chicks are people too”, page 12; “working with the man”, page 14; “The Spider and the fly”, page 32; columnist illustrations) Billy is in his final year of a media/arts double degree and regularly puts off important study to draw for On Dit. For this issue he has also contributed some photos of bugs, and sifted through medical waste to find some acupuncture needles to stick into jelly and pass it off as cover art. Laziness hinders Billy’s academic efforts, but positively affects his art. Not fussing about realistic lines, proportions or shading creates good cartoons, and not adjusting or manipulating photographs allows him to be a true artsy wanker and claim refinement and purity.

Writers Aimee thatcher (“Checkout chicks are people too”, page 12) “What do you do with a BA in English?!” asked a worrisome puppet in the theatre production, Avenue Q. Aimee has pondered this exact question every day since beginning her BA in 2009. Aimee spends most of her time at Uni trying to get as far away from Uni as physically possible. Aimee “opts” for rifling through clothing racks at “op”-shops (which she considers a more valuable waste of time). Aimee can often be found lounging in front of the TV, analysing and mocking, whilst simultaneously being fed peeled grapes by her trained monkey Clive. Not a day passes by without something peculiar and spooky happening to Aimee and she can often be found burdening those around her with funny stories of the day’s fruitful events.

Samuel Lymn (“Disabling disability”, page 24) A PhD candidate in Asian Studies, Sam wanders through life unable to distinguish fiction from reality, which means that in addition to being enthralled by the study of Asia he is also a part time wizard, world famous rock star and the guy that feeds Christopher Nolan all his film scripts. You can read his amazing blog at www.stayonmymind.com!

Volume 79, Issue 8

Letters Dear On Dit Editors,

Dear On Dit,

I would like to firstly commend you on your swankily presented magazine. You have done a fine job in presenting your magazine as a real magazine, fit for sale at a newsagent/bookstore/k-food. And it’s free! However, I do have some issues with the direction you have taken the magazine. Specifically, the length of many of the articles in the magazine. Many of the articles are too long. In the last issue, many of the articles ran to 3 or 4 pages. In previous issues articles have been as long as six. Now, long articles might be acceptable for established, reputable magazines like the New Yorker (which I understand has many articles that go for many pages) but let’s be honest — you’re not the New Yorker. You need to understand your target demographic. Most people reading the magazine are at uni. Therefore, they are most likely reading the magazine as a distraction in lectures. In such an environment, short, easily digestible articles would be much better. Further, they are uni students. As such, they are young. Many studies have shown that younger people have shorter attention spans. Therefore, people are more likely to read the On Dit if it had shorter articles.

I am writing in response to your article “Refused Classification” in issue 7 2011. Whilst Mr Pawlowski does make a good argument in terms of justifying the removal of age limits and bans on certain game types, I think he neglects a lot of the other social implications of gaming culture. Not wishing to fall into stereotypes, there is something to be said I think about the reasons behind an individual deciding to invest large amounts of time in the virtual world. Yes, in this modern age technology is a central part of our day to day lives, but there is a difference between sending an email or text, and teaming up with randoms to “pwn n00bs”. I’m not just talking about violent games either. I can’t even remember the last time I went to a lecture where someone wasn’t playing some sort of new iPhone fad game or solitaire (on their laptop). Maybe you should write an article on that.

Regards, Tony McKallups

Dear Tony, Unfortunately, your letter was too long for us to read properly. In future, please use paragraph spacings and/or subheadings. Best, The Eds

Got something to get off your chest? Email us at ondit@adelaide.edu.au

On Dit Magazine

Sincerely, Angry Bird

Targedoku

I T R H E O Y C P

H C P T E O R

T R I Y P H C

R P C E O H I T Y

9 Letter word: Hypocrite

C Y I O R E T P H

T R E P H C O Y I

O H P T Y

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

Crypt-O-Clue Flower Panics Realm Anagram Graphic Quakes

1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Quiz 101 A giant (presumably) Giraffe 101.5 Classical Japanese dance drama

6. 42.195 kms (42) 7. Alexander Flemming 8. Ian Curtis 9. The Protectionist Party 10. Nigella Lawson

Fully Booked

C R E

Volume 79, Issue 8 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

Slaughterhouse 5 – Kurt Vonnegut The Trial – Franz Kafka Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen Lord of the Flies – William Golding To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee Watership Down – Richard Adams

7. Gravity’s Rainbow – Thomas Pynchon 8. Heart of Darkness – Joesph Conrad 9. 2001 – A Space Odyssey - Arthur C. Clarke 10. Nineteen Eighty-Four – George Orwell

No peeking until you’ve done the Diversions on page 46

Answers

Vox POP

Racquel

Matt

Lani

Engineering

Boilermaker

Biomedical Engineering

1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

1. Teeth (my own). It’s not some murdering thing. 2. Drive. 3. Yes. I’ve got a basic First Aid certificate. 4. Eat it. 5. No. But since the Aussie won it, I might check it out.

1. Ring pulls. I collected thousands. 2. Bus. 3. I could try. It probably wouldn’t go to well. 4. Read it. 5. Who’s Cadel Evans?

Mickey Mouse stuff. The train. No. Read it. No. I don’t really like cycling.

On Dit Magazine

We asked our panel of randomly selected students: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever collected? How do you get to uni? Do you know how to do CPR? Would you rather read the dictionary cover-to-cover, or eat it? Do you give a shit about the Tour De France, and why?

Tyson

Alison

Matt

Med

Politics

Media

1. Snails, when I was little. We kept them in my garage. One day my neighbour broke in and crushed them all, but they left their plastic chair, so I crushed it up and put it in their letterbox. 2. Drive. 3. Yes. I work at the Hospital. 4. Eat it. I’d probably blend it. Have it in soup, or in a protein shake. 5. Not really. I just listen in. The Aussie won!

1. Change. Coins. I don’t really collect a lot of things. 2. Pretty much every way. Trains, buses, bikes and walking. 3. No. 4. Read it. 5. No. I don’t follow sports much at all.

1. Toothpicks. I was on holiday in Europe and was bored. 2. Bus. 3. I’ve done a course. 4. Read it. 5. It’s good he won, but not really.

Volume 79, Issue 8

Degrees of Knowledge

Arts In true Arts student

fashion,

I’m

writing this the day before deadline.

I’ve done no research, I have no idea where this piece is going and I’ve got to get it done in the next few hours. So basically this issue’s Degrees of Knowledge is a microcosm of the degree it is about, which seems fitting. Welcome to Arts. Arts degrees have a pretty bad rep. As my dad is constantly bragging to his workmates, “my daughter’s doing a BA—that’s short for Bugger All! Hahahahahahahaha!” (Nice one, dad.) It’s true that Arts degrees are reasonably useless on their own, but that doesn’t mean they’re not handy. You can use your Arts degree to find out which area of study you like best and excel at, and to collect a bunch of cruisy Ds in subjects with take-home exams and hippy lecturers*. If your studies spark a desire to transfer into something else, internal transfers to * I feel like I should insert a somewhat obvious disclaimer. Not all lecturers are hippies, and not all Ds are cruisy—Arts students have meltdowns just like any others. To view these meltdowns, hit the Napier toilets. They are frequent. Well, mine are. 8

degrees like media, law and education are reasonably straightforward. If you, like me, would rather stick with plain old Arts, three years later you’re brandishing a diploma and applying for postgraduate courses. Take that, dad. Most people, despite the bad rep, choose to undertake an Arts degree for one of the following reasons: • •

It’s one half of a double degree You wanted to study an obscure elective, like anthropology • Your TER wasn’t high enough to get into the degree you actually wanted, but at least you’re not at Flinders • You had no idea what you wanted to do with your life when you filled out your SATAC form, so you just ticked Arts • All of the above Arts degrees are excellent. I actually started my stint at Adelaide University in an Arts/International Studies double degree, but dropped the International Studies component after being reduced to tears in a politics tutorial (thanks, ignorance). This decision allowed me the freedom to On Dit Magazine

study the most ridiculous and pointless combination of subjects—and enjoy it. Like I mean seriously. I actually like going to uni. It’s absurd. For those of you trapped in a degree structure with not-so-many electives, you might not actually be aware of the variety of subjects Adelaide Uni offers its students. I mean, everyone knows you can study English, history and politics. But what about philosophy, anthropology or gender studies? Creative writing, European studies, linguistics or art theory? Film studies, medieval studies or foreign policy? All of these things are available to you in an Arts degree, in any combination. You just have to stick to the basic structure. The structure of an Arts degree is probably the hardest thing you’ll ever encounter during your degree, unless you choose something sciency as an elective (and let’s face it, you’re doing an Arts degree, so why would you?). There are a few niggly little rules (ie. you can’t do 8 history subjects a year and call it a degree—variety is key), and it’s had a few makeovers in its time, but as it currently stands, the basic structure looks something like this:

An insider’s look at something you don’t study Words: Emma Jones

FIRST YEAR: 2x major courses, 2x minor courses, 4x elective courses You can spot a first year from a mile away, and I’m pretty sure this doesn’t only apply to Arts. Shiny new backpacks and 2010 Seniors jumpers are a dead giveaway, but don’t laugh at them—the first year of an Arts degree is the worst, poor little bastards. Brace yourself for redundant preliminary lectures teaching you all about Harvard-style referencing and how to use the Barr Smith Library to its “full potential” (this does NOT mean figuring out its most hidden archive in which to have sex). Tutorials are large and impersonal, but it’s okay, you only have to put up with it for the first few weeks. Most people drop out before census.

SECOND YEAR: 2x major courses, 2x minor courses, 4x elective courses Humanities subjects at Adelaide Uni are split into Level I and Advanced Level, which can be a little confusing when enrolling. Bascially, any course code with a ‘2’ (ie. ENGL

2041) is Advanced Level, and you can study it in second or third year. Advanced Level courses are available bi-annually, and classes will be full of a mix of second- and thirdyear students. In your second year, make sure you talk to the third-years about what subjects are good for next year, and then enrol in them religiously. This is also a good time to impress the staff of your department of choice, as your major will double in volume next year.

THIRD YEAR: 4x major courses, 2x minor courses, 2x elective courses Graduation is so close you can smell it, and it smells good. You feel like a smarmy Hogwarts seventh year by now—you know the Humanities buildings so well you could make a Marauders’ Map of them. But Advanced Level lectures and tutorials are smaller, so you’ll find yourself being catapulted into ridiculous buildings all over campus. In week 1 I spent forty minutes looking for the Polygon Lecture Theatre, which is a feat of ugly architecture. Not impressed, Adelaide. This structure is only for pure Volume 79, Issue 8

Arts—if you’re doing one of the many double degrees offered with Arts, your structure will be different, with less electives. Pretty much any degree at Adelaide Uni can be paired with an Arts degree: economics, music, science, teaching, media, law, engineering and health sciences, to name a few. If you’re already doing one of these degrees, you can apply internally to add a concurrent arts degree onto it. A double degree with arts takes four years, and expands your career options exponentially. Adelaide University’s website lists possible career objectives for Arts students as ranging from media to publishing to marketing to humanitarian work. Personally I’m aiming for the “perennial student” option, and will try to tuck as many postgraduate qualifications under my belt as Centrelink will pay for. This love of study has come from the freedom my arts degree granted me to fuck around with various departments and pick my favourite (English, for the record), and everybody knows that when you love something, you work hard and achieve high. Bugger All? More like Bloody Awesome. (Please note that acronyms are not my specialty.) O 9

Mind Controlled Words/Illustrations: Rogan Tinsley, PhD Don’t be fooled. Be afraid. Be very afraid. You, no doubt, oohed and aahed at the necomimi ears by neurowear. net when they were demoed earlier this year (See Fig 1). So cute. Flappy furry ears on a pretty young woman. Kawaii! (FYI, that’s Japanese for ultra-cute)

True. But as with all things kawaii there is a darker edge. What you may not know is that the necomimi ears are the first volley in the oncoming war. A war whose spoils will be your mind and your soul. The storm clouds have been gathering for some time. Read on, I as lay down what has lead us to this tipping point, and where it will lead us, if we are not careful.

On Dit Magazine

Brain-computer interface devices have been around for a while; one of the most prominent examples being the work of Miguel Nicolelis. Towards the end of the last century, his team at Duke University implanted electrodes into monkey’s brains in order to read their thoughts . These could be digitised, decoded, and conveyed, in real time, to a robotic arm which would mimic the actions

Controlled Mind of the monkey’s own. They could even send them over the internet. Other than the obvious , what is the point of this research? For a start, neuro-prosthetics could be used to help people with missing limbs. This technology also has applications in the remote operation of robotic devices and machines — think surgery, mining and space exploration.

circle. Which leads me to wonder: When we are all hooked up, William Gibson-style, who will be controlling whom? Will we all become mindless zombies, plugged in to our computers and life-support? Is this the dystopia that awaits us? Well, there’s no need to worry that computers will control your mind in the future. No, because they are already controlling us now. “Gaming” can refer either video games or pokies, and rightly so, because they both operate in the same way. They use clever design to trigger in-built brain responses to keep you engaged and keep you playing. Tom Chatfield, author of

Grand, blue-sky stuff. But by my reckoning, the first applications we’ll see will be in video games. Sure, Wii and Kinect may have Mums and Dads thinking the days of idle game play are over, but they could not be more wrong. Moving your body as a controller is only a stepping stone; a crude detour on the way to mind controlled gaming.

Fun Inc outlined seven ways games hook into brain’s reward systems in his recent TED talk . It boils down to this: (1) controlling the probability of reward, (2) multiple long- and short-term goals, (3) reward for effort, (4) feedback, (5) the element of uncertainty, (6) windows of enhanced engagement, and (7) social engagement. Put these together and you’ll keep the punters happy, and, even if they ain’t happy, you’ll keep them coming back for more. I myself am above such pursuits, but I have seen those I love and respect fall victim to these simple mind Volume 79, Issue 8

The path leads from joysticks to controllers to body sensing to gesture/facial sensing to brain sensing. Why bother trying to interpret what someone’s body is doing when you can simply read off their intended movements from a brain scan? So our brains will control computers, which will feed data back to our brain, in a symbiotic vicious

hacks during sessions of Farmville, Bejewelled Blitz or Zuma. Thankfully I am only peripherally aware of the mind-stewing, soul-stealing horror of WoW. Don’t get me wrong. I’m big on the brain. I love it, and I love the idea of maximising its potential through interaction with computers. I’m just saying don’t dis the meat-bag the gets that brain from A to B. It truly is your temple, and it’s the only one you’ll get. Be careful of leading too much of a second life, or outsourcing your gestures to a robot. The necomimi ears are meant to help convey your mood — but surely that’s what eyebrows are for. O 11

Checkout chicks are people too A guide to coping with infuriating customers Words: Aimee Thatcher / Illustrations: Billy Horn Being a Checkout Chick is often a painful and demanding profession, a fact that can be overlooked by many customers. I can assure you there is a high level of skill

item in a canvas bag which you have already taken the liberty of adding to their total purchase.

involved in dealing with some of the customers who pass

The Counter and Namer:

through our checkouts every week.

Since working at (non-descript shopping franchise) I have been taught many things, however the subject of dealing with the myriad of customers out there was completely disregarded. That’s where I come in. If you’re feeling out of your depth and completely overwhelmed with the concept of facing another awful customer, then take heed and pay attention, as some valuable information awaits!

The one item at a timer: A common customer encountered by the checkout chick who feels obliged to name and count each item they will purchase. Some even describe how that particular item will be useful to them, for example “There’s a toilet Brush. That’ll come in handy scrubbing the toilets after the kids visit this weekend.” Thank you customer that was a priceless piece of information that I wanted to envisage. My Advice: This is a customer that deems it necessary to personally hand the checkout chick one item at a time with the utmost care. The situation is reminiscent of a scene from Peter Jackson’s adaptation of J. R. R Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings featuring Gollum (the customer) so possessively protecting his “precious” ring (the item). My advice: Kindly reassure the customer that your job training has attributed you with enough skills to handle perhaps two or three items at any given time. Following this, verbally make a note that you are gently and safely placing each 12

First, and most importantly, breathe and just let them be. There is no stopping them once they begin. Secondly, hope to God that on that particular day you have been assigned to a twelve items or less checkout and don’t have to resite your one, two, and three’s and re live basic primary school maths. As item after item is place on your checkout, followed by a number, name and brief description of possible uses, the only advice I can offer is to smile, nod and pray to almighty Jesus that their trolley doesn’t contain any sordid unmentionables that will, no doubt be closely followed by an in-depth explanation.

On Dit Magazine

The Creepy Customer: There is always one, one slimy, creepy customer who over steps the mark and makes a checkout chick’s blood crawl. The Creepy Customer is a staple in any checkout chick’s week and has been known to utter the words “you can search me. I’m wearing clean underwear” (like that makes a difference) and “Be careful or you’ll pop out” when fiddling with my shirt button. My Advice: Grin and bear it! Curse and mock later! Being abused by The Creepy Customer is just a perk being a checkout chick — you’ll always have a good story to tell at parties.

The Awkward Purchaser:

The Sweet Stranger:

An awkward aspect of the profession is dealing with The Awkward Purchaser, a customer who stealthily hides the more risqué items in a sea of miscellaneous items hoping that the checkout chick does not notice.

Not all customers are bad; occasionally a nice one will emerge from the crowd. Recently I met a sweet old man with offerings of candy. Needless to say the candy both gave me a sugar rush and made my day. So if there is one lesson for customers out there it’s that you must be kind to get kindness in return…and a little candy doesn’t go astray either.

My Advice: The key to getting through this awkward situation (and trust me its awkward for both customer and checkout operator) is pretence. Pretend that that box of glow in the dark condoms and strawberry flavoured lubricant, strategically placed underneath a pack of chewing gum and other miscellaneous items, are invisible. Pretend that you’ve seen nothing and get that transaction over and done with as soon as possible.

My Advice: Enjoy! These moments are seldom seen by a checkout chick such as me. Soak in the pleasantries and when you are dealing with the next Creepy Customer, hold on to the notion that humanity isn’t completely a lost cause. O

Volume 79, Issue 8

Working with the Man: the part time job Words: Adele Teh / Illustrations: Billy Horn

There are two aspects to a part-time job: customers and co-workers. Dealing with customers is like training for some kind of SWAT team negotiation taskforce. You spend 20 minutes coaxing the customer to drop the DVD, trying to make them realise that the sign saying “20% off electrical” does not include DVDs, all the while with your left hand poised over the scanning gun and right hand reaching for the phone to ring for managerial assistance. After you’ve been intercepted by the customer who wants the CD “by that guy who has the song that goes like this” (cue tuneless humming), you still have to deal with your fellow employees. Coworkers can be the bane of your existence. Don’t get me wrong; co-workers can be your friends. At the very least, you can be Facebook friends. Sunshine, rainbows and daisies abound when in your mundane and humdrum part-time job you can have a friendly conversation with a fellow slave that does not make your ears bleed. However, in any workplace there will be the co-worker that makes your life just a little bit harder – be they the competition for the managerial chip-sorting position or be they lying little snitches undermining your minimum wage happiness. The current chip-sorting manager certainly knows it is a serious and prestigious position. After 20 years in the business, don’t you dare question his dedication or qualifications - this fast food joint is his career. He left school at fourteen to work 15-hour days to climb the fast food ladder and he undertakes Chip-Leader training four times a year. Never mind that he cannot spell ‘potato’; he knows more about the humble spud than you know about iPhone apps. Somewhere else, slicing

ham or punching buttons on the cash register, will be the Former Make-up Artist. In your face, regaling you with tales of how she ran her own make-up salon, casually throwing make-up magazines in your path just so you can ask her all about her exciting former life. Don’t get her started on her prized daughter who could have made it in the top callisthenics competitions in America. You nod pathetically and utter inanities before shuffling away toward the sandwich slicer so you can slice off your ears, only to be met by the Drama Queen.

Drama Queen With a personality as depressing as Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh, but lacking the cute factor, every situation for the Drama Queen turns into the sinking of the Titanic. Everything is a tragedy. A paper cut is an Emergency Room situation; a missing pen is a mission for the SWAT-team. If heaven forbid he or she has a cold, everyone in a twenty-metre radius knows about it within the first five minutes. Oh my apologies, it’s not a cold but a raging viral infection that will see him or her upon her deathbed within the hour. But go home? Never! This dedicated staff member will stay on – he or she needs the money and has to meet her hourly quota of people to complain to. Once clocked off and at home, the drama is not over. Hourly Facebook updates let you know that she is writing her last will and testament upon her deathbed; that she hates pickles but McDonald’s put pickles in her burger; as well as every detail about her state of grief after her most recent life-shattering break-up.

On Dit Magazine

Guppy

Slacker

After having to single-handedly fold a hundred shirts on the sale tables, there is another specimen of coworker that makes your blood boil. He or she is standing amongst the bombsite of apparel, mouth agape like a guppy pulled from a frozen lake. When you explain to the Guppy the urgent need to tend to the carnage of sale items upon the floor, you can see his or her mouth slowly flap open as the struggle takes place between breathing and cognition. Never you mind, slow aquatic creature, just stand, and breathe. Maybe lie down to increase blood flow to your brain.

In addition to the Guppy hindering productivity, the slacker is always present to further energise your day. How is the Slacker still employed? They certainly keep themselves occupied on the job reading B-grade celebrity biographies, updating Facebook or engaging in halfhour conversations with other staff members, but have you ever seen them doing any actual work related to your workplace? They consistently turn up ten minutes late, forcing you to stay on and shoulder the burden of dealing with that annoying customer. If the one job he or she is assigned to carry out within a five-hour shift is to tidy a four-metre radius, it is guaranteed that as soon as the Slacker leaves you will find a minefield of prominently placed coffee cups and Hungry Jacks wrappers.

Volume 79, Issue 8

Tin Man

Subterranean Life Form

Whatever you do, never seek any empathy from the presence that is the Tin Man. If only he had a heart. You often find the Tin Man above you in the hierarchy of whatever fine establishment you slave away at. Unlike his Wizard of Oz namesake, he will not befriend you, poor Dorothy, nor follow yellow brick roads and sing. In sugared tones enough to trigger a Diabetic attack, the Tin Man will ask you to do something, like restock a shelf or get more patties out. But you can feel the underlying atmosphere of menace that will surface if you get it wrong. An hour later when you encounter the Tin Man, the decision to ask a question such as “what should I restock the shelf with?” or “how many patties?” is the equivalent of taking a pickaxe to a frozen lake beneath your feet. In other words: a bad decision that will see voices raised and self-esteem crumble.

Sometimes in your part-time job you will be unfortunate enough to encounter the subterranean life form, a species little known to the outside world. Whilst evolution was working its merry power upon prehistoric life forms, turning fish into walking carnivores and dinosaurs into gorillas, there was one life form that missed out. Maybe the specimen was chewing dirt in its cave while the rest of the dinosaur gang was queuing at Charles Darwin’s Evolution Soup Kitchen for a good hand out of superior genes, fur and/or intelligence. After the evolution party, this life form emerged from its subterranean dwelling place, squinting in the sunlight, ready after its years of subterranean experience to go forth into and instil its cave knowledge into the workplace. Unlike the Guppy, the Subterranean Life Form (‘SLF’) is able to engage in thought processes of its own initiative. It’s just that the thought processes will annoy the hell out of you. It will tell you about its life underground in an oh-so-similar workplace: “Oh this would never have been allowed to happen there”. The SLF will tell you what to do. It knows that it is above you; on par with top management, but its dedication just hasn’t been recognised yet. The SLF will take it one step further and delegate its work to you. If you dare to protest against this unfair assignation, the SLF will remind you (for the forty-sixth time) that: “I’m the only one who does work around here.” Negotiating a lunch break so that you can go into uni and hand in an assignment will turn into a Spaghetti Western showdown complete with stray tumbleweed and pistols. In huffs and grunts the SLF will respond to your unreasonable and inhospitable demands before throwing the can of peas/keys/tea towel at you and storming off, outraged that such a competent worker such as it is forced to take an early lunchbreak. The SLF has a written language all of its own. Only the most ingenious speller can decipher the angry notes left on every available surface detailing everything it thinks you have done wrong. Approach the SLF with caution. A simple question such as “where is the pen” will be met with a lengthy diatribe about co-workers misplacing pens and having messy handwriting; about the problems with the company’s stationery ordering system and the decline of the ballpoint industry. Do not make the mistake of expressing anything that could be seen as interest in its subterranean life. An utterance of “mmhmm” will see you being regaled with a half-hour tale of its old sporting injuries from competing in subterranean keg rolling exhibitions before it was forced to settle for its retail/hospitality career. You will know all about its struggle to retain its former svelte sporting physique; despite what you see as consistently contrary evidence of KFC being downed in the lunchroom. You will hear all about its $1000 top of the range mobile phone that cannot be obtained in Australia, and all about its quest to succeed in its collectible trading card game.

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( S.L.F. ) Bitter Uni Student Free welfare money from the government won’t pay all the bills. The most important bill of course is the tab down at the Bitter Uni Student’s Friday night drinking haunt. This priority is closely followed by rent, the cost of getting from A to B (not that much since you found that rusty bike at the dump) and buying textbooks. The last one is a negligible expense since he or she has either been buying second hand ones since first year, or just reading over a richer friend’s shoulder. There are some inconveniences, like having an old edition textbook that still thinks the USSR exists or one that says that says women can’t own property. Either that or the page numbers have all changed and he or she looks like a fool in the tutorial. There is also the issue of neck strain and the richer friend becoming annoyed and no longer wanting to be the Bitter Uni Student’s friend. This need to pay bills sees the Bitter Uni Student flipping burgers or folding ties for a minimum wage, when the weekends and uni-free days could be spent lounging on the beach or riding into the sunset. After all, he or she will be moving onto bigger and better things soon (well, in a year or three). As the bitter student likes to tell their patient long-serving colleagues, the future holds an awesome professional career and leaves the deep fryer days behind. You can spot the Bitter Uni Student by the glazed eyes and overwhelming air of

apathy as they stock shelves with cans of peas or listen to the old “customer’s uncle’s sister-in-law in hospital with gangrene so customer should get a discount” story. A foggy hangover is another sign; a hint of glowering disdain in relation to customers and co-workers alike is an even better indicator.

Snitcher or Ditcher Unless you know how to dispose of a dead body, there is nothing to be done about these exemplary colleagues. And you do not want to choose the option of becoming the Snitch. No, this is not a reference to Harry Potter, but the Snitch is a co-worker who will go behind your back and ‘dob’ you in to your boss. You’ll get dobbed in for taking a minute over your tea break; for not putting stock away properly; for not greeting a customer with enough cheer. It all makes you want to ditch your workplace and live on the dole, doesn’t it? Or hide in a Himalayan cave living on berries and rodents. But like some symbolic Karate Kid fence that needs whitewashing, withstanding the irritations of any part-time job is training. Wax on, wax off. Training you for life. Unless of course your career ambition is to be a lone deep space explorer - and even then there’s a 60% chance that your only contact with Earth will be with a 24/7-snacking colleague who constantly crunches corn chips over the airwaves. O

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SOME FUNNY STUFF PEOPLE TOLD US ON FACEBOOK ABOUT WORK We asked our readers about their weirdest, most baffling and enraging workplace experiences. These are their stories. Vanessa: The response “yes” to the prompt “did you have any green bags today?” has become the most feared word a noble checkout worker can hear as a crumpled misshapen ball of germ ridden green fabric is thrust at us. They are a tantalising cocktail for the senses; from the indeterminate stains, the smells of urine, BO and mothballs, through to various vermin infestations, used bandaids, nappies and dirty underwear. Despite this, what I found to be the strangest reaction was generally the completely unabashed response to what customers perceived to be my trivial whining. “There appear to be some spider’s in here....” “For heaven’s sake, they’re just babies! Just throw the groceries on top”. Karagh: I work at McDonalds, my whole life is filled with enraging customer experiences. I’ve had a woman throw her whole coffee at me because there was a bubble in it, people go nuts because the price of something goes up, doors get slammed in our faces, people try to climb over the counter... it’s crazy. 18

Steph: I work in a video store and have to help old men pick their porn (have to? you decide). If the store is empty I put the music up and sing loudly, one time doing that I managed to not see a man at the counter, who then told me to finish the song first before I served him. Casey: I once had a customer (a relatively old man) that really wanted some home brand skim milk powder. He asked one of my managers, who asked me if there was any in the stockroom. I checked the computer which told me there were, and when I got back with a carton of the milk powder, he was yelling at my manager about how if we had it in the store it should be on the shelf. I dunno, he might have thought that robots filled the shelves. Not an enraging experience, but quite baffling. Casey (again): Oh, and once when I worked checkout I had a very elderly lady throw fruit and vegetables at me. That was a much more baffling story, shouldn’t have wasted my time on the first one. On Dit Magazine

Andrew: When I worked in advertising, I was given the unenviable task of Photoshopping pics of HIV patients to help a company hock cosmetic surgery products to this “market”. They wanted me to make the Before shots look “worse” and the After shots look “better”. I quit over it. We all draw different lines in the sand, but personally I draw it before I start exploiting people with a terminal disease! Gemma: A man came into the gourmet deli I worked in and asked if we could re-furnish some of his chairs. He didn’t seem like a crazy either. Fiona: Customers don’t really think before speaking. “Are your breasts nice and firm?” freaked me out for a good ten seconds before I realised he was talking about the chicken breasts. I hope. Lilli: A lady came into my work and was explaining to us how George W. Bush used to be a door to door piano salesman and how he was after her. He had a whole team of people spying on her and watching her every move. You learn something new everyday! O

By Any other name Does organic food live up to the hype? Words: Galen Cuthbertson / Illustration: Chloe McGregor

Every

day, we eat.

And every day, we We make big choices, sure: whether to be a vegetarian; whether to make a living by skinning rabbits with comically large hunting knives to a soundtrack of weeping orphaned baby rabbits and country music. But we also make little choices: which bread to buy and let go stale; what watermelon to steal and fill with vodka. choose what to eat.

We do it every day, and each choice — made consciously or unconsciously — inevitably entails certain value judgments. Given two boxes of near-identical cereal, which

do you pick? The ever-so-slightly cheaper one with a picture of a beach, or the one that deliberately misspells ‘light’ and has images honey drizzling seductively onto a serving with a higher density of ‘organic raisins’ and yoghurt ball thingies than you’ve ever seen in your waking life. It’s a hard decision, but you make it — and something makes you pick one over the other. Perhaps you had an overwhelming desire to eat the ‘lite’ (and therefore healthy-but-fun) option. Or perhaps a powerful stinginess (inspired by your current student poverty) made you choose the one with the beach. Volume 79, Issue 8

It’s all about personal values and persuasive labelling. While there’s a metric tonne of factors here, we’re only going to talk about one particular bit of the whole food labelling/value landscape: the word ‘organic’. You see it on oranges, but you also see it on soaps. Personally, I tend to assume that ‘organic’ is better than not. But what exactly does it mean? Food labelling laws (especially in Australia) are something of a head-fuck; can we trust a product to be organic when it says ‘organic’? And even if we can, does it matter? 19

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“ ” “ Organic food may not be better for you, but it’s better for the environment. It’s sustainable, lower impact, and less harmful. In that sense, organic matters ”

Certified and Certifiable

Broadly speaking, the term ‘organic’ isn’t regulated within Australia. If you wish, you can label a product as ‘organic’ when it isn’t strictly so. It’s tempting to think, therefore, that the market is some kind of meaningless free-for-all, with corporate entities showering deceptive labelling on customers like confetti on newlyweds. This isn’t quite true.

While ‘organic’ isn’t government-regulated within Australia, any exports that claim to be organic must meet the standards set by the Australian Quarantine and Inspection Service (henceforth snappily abbreviated as the AQIS, which in my head is pronounced ‘awkies’). Laid down in a riveting document called the ‘Standard for Organic and Biodynamic Produce’, the AQIS standards reflect what consumers generally think of as ‘organic’: farmed and produced without the use of genetically modified components or synthetic chemicals (pesticides, herbicides, artificial fertilisers). At this point, it’s pretty easy to anticipate what you’re thinking: these government standards only apply to our exports, so surely the rest of the world can trust Australian organic products but Australian consumers can’t. Well, that’s only true to a point. In place of government certification, Australia has private certification bodies. Of these many organic certification bodies,

the AQIS produces a smaller list that they have accredited. When I say ‘smaller’ I mean substantially so; currently, there are seven. When put into sexy alphabetical order, they are: •

Biodynamic Research Institute (Demeter) • Biological Farmers of Australia (BFA) • National Association for Sustainable Agriculture Australia (NASAA) • Organic Food Chain (OFC) • Organic Herb Growers of Australia (OHGA) • Organic Vignerons Association of Australia (OVAA) • Tasmanian Organic Producers (TOP) To become an accredited certification body, they must certify producers to a standard equal to the export ‘Standard for Organic and Biodynamic Produce’ I mentioned earlier. Essentially, what the AQIS is doing here is semi-regulating the word ‘organic’ by outsourcing it. If you want to know whether a product within Australia is organic, check for a certified organic logo from one of those seven. And if you’re buying from an organic retailer, you can check for the Organic Retailers’ and Growers’ Association of Australia (ORGAA) notice. On top of all this, I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out the existence of the Australian Consumer Law,

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which last year replaced the Trade Practices Act 1974. While there are many sections that are relevant to our discussion, the biggie is Section 18 (formerly Section 54 of the Trade Practices Act). Section 18 prohibits misleading or deceptive conduct in trade or commerce, and can be used to challenge all sorts of commercial behaviour, including deceptive advertising. What do I mean by deceptive advertising? Well, hypothetically, claiming that a product is 100% naturally lovely and orgasmically organic when it’s actually been grown in a hellish bath of synthetic fertilisers, injected cruelly and repeatedly with random chemicals, and then breathed on by the Poisonous Pesticide Dragon Of Death And Nastiness. That’d be deceptive advertising.

Effectively effective Hopefully, you’ve all still got a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach. Why? Because neither the certification framework I’ve just outlined, nor the Australian Consumer Law, guarantee with absolute certainty, that everything you buy which says ‘organic’ is actually organic. You can look for a certified organic logo, but what if there’s a logo that isn’t actually one of the seven mentioned above? It’s entirely possible that it’s not the logo of an accredited certifier, and is just the company patting itself on the back. Short of creating a unified government certification system, it’s hard to imagine this 21

problem going away. And even if the law was changed, and use of the word ‘organic’ was specifically regulated by government, this wouldn’t deal with the problem entirely. Terms like ‘natural’, ‘healthy’, ‘authentic’ and ‘chemical free’ could just as easily take its place in making a product appear more attractive and positive than its competitors. The reality is that you have to take charge of your decisionmaking here. If you care about buying organic, then you need to take control of critically assessing what you buy and eat. The fact that it says ‘organic’ or ‘all natural’ or ‘chemical free’ on the packaging isn’t conclusive evidence of its universal loveliness.

Orgasmically organic For the sake of argument, let’s assume that you’re once again faced with a choice: two apparently identical products, one organic and one not. Let’s further assume that you’re confident in the claim: the organic product is certified by an AQIS-accredited certifier. Here’s the question: is it really worth buying the organic over the non-organic? Does organic make a difference? One of the big arguments people tend to throw around in support of eating organic is health. To my mind, the claim is threefold: organic foods are

apparently more nutritious, tastier, and lack the poisonous chemicals of their non-organic counterparts. As far as nutrition is concerned, there’s surprisingly little evidence to support the claim. In 2009, the UK Food Standards Agency commissioned a systematic review of the topic, based on 50 years of prior research. Conducted by the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, the conclusion was definitive: “there is no good evidence that consumption of organic food is beneficial to health in relation to nutrient content.” Taste-related research has been similarly definitive. In a 2002 survey of the research published in Critical Reviews in Food Science and Nutrition, Bourn and Prescott stated it plainly: “there is yet to be convincing evidence that organic produce differs in sensory terms from conventional produce, let alone that there is some taste advantage.” In other words, not only does current research indicate that organic food doesn’t taste better, it doesn’t taste different at all. Personally, something in me revolts at this conclusion. I’ve had fresh, organically grown vegetables from a local community garden, and they always seem to taste substantially better. Not only that, there’s something undeniably different: they have more vivid complexity; a richer, tastier flavour. How do we square such anecdotal evidence with

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the research? Well, leaving aside the sticky issue of confirmation bias, there are two points worth bearing in mind. First, home-grown and freshlyharvested doesn’t equate with organic-from-a-shop. Second, such experiences ¬— mine, at least — often concerned food that was simply different: a kind of corn that I hadn’t tried before, or an heirloom variety of carrot. They tasted different because they were different. Organic didn’t really have much to do with it. Undoubtedly the most contentious claim made about organic food’s health impact is that it avoids exposure to dangerous pesticides and synthetic chemicals used in conventional farming. In a sense, this is true. Studies show that organically grown fruits and vegetables have lower levels of chemical pesticide residues than their conventional counterparts. However, this doesn’t necessarily translate to safer produce. Proponents of conventional farming will likely point out that all food in Australia has to comply with certain limits on chemical residue. These standards have wide safety margins; the levels permitted are well below what has been deemed safe. These arguments, while comforting, aren’t necessarily the end of the story. Those standards, with their wide safety margins, are based only on the current evidence. It’s entirely possible that something we think is safe will turn out

Organic Food

Far more convincing than health arguments, however, are justifications for organic food based on environmental concerns. Organic is plainly better for the environment. First, organic farming practices are substantially better in sustaining diverse, viable ecosystems where insects, plants, and animals thrive. Second, organic farming doesn’t use any synthetic chemicals – meaning none are released into the environment. Third, whether calculated per unit area or per unit of yield, organic farms use less energy and produce less waste, making them more efficient than their conventional counterparts. While the yield of an organic farm is slightly lower than a conventional farm in the developed world, it’s not that simple. A 2007 study published in Re-

newable Agriculture and Food Systems put it simply when they said, “organic methods could produce enough food on a global per capita basis to sustain the current human population, and potentially an even larger population, without increasing the agricultural land base.” Why did they say this? Well, in developed countries, the yield for an organic farm is roughly 8% lower than that of a conventional farm. But in developing countries, where synthetic farming materials are harder to acquire, organic farming can produce up to 80% more than conventional practices. Say what you will about its health benefits — organic farming is better for the environment and better for the developing world. We have a moral and scientific imperative here. Organic food may not be better for you, but it’s better for the environment. It’s sustainable, lower impact, and less harmful. In that sense, organic matters.

Degrees of Deception In my bathroom, I have a handwash labelled ‘organic care, with green tea and aloe’. It’s a good handwash. It smells nice, and I like it. When I was buying it, I had to choose between it and a conventional, non-organic-labelled handwash. I’m not quite whether it’s genuinely made with organic products, or if it’s just an effective marketing ploy. But even if it

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was genuinely organic, would it matter? Does it matter that it’s green tea and aloe? After all, I’m using it to wash my hands; I’m not planning to eat it. My point is this: organic matters. If you didn’t know this before, I’m hoping you know this now. It may not matter in terms of health or taste, but it does make a substantial difference to the environment. However, current labelling law in Australia doesn’t entirely control the use of the word ‘organic’. In a way, you have to fend for yourself here. Sure, you’re not quite a naked Spartan child left in the forests of the free market with only a knife and a loincloth - you have some protection and guidance - but you do need to take charge and inform yourself if you want to make informed decisions. Should the law be different? I don’t know, maybe. Personally, I think that even if you regulate one word, that’s not going to stop advertising from manipulating unthinking fools. I think the only way you fix the problem is reduce the number of unthinking fools in the world.

Picture: ilovebutter / http://www.flickr.com/photos/jdickert

to be entirely unsafe. Think dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane (DDT). Originally used to control malaria and typhus during World War II, the Swiss chemist who discovered its properties won a Nobel prize for his efforts. Only now do we know what it does in the human body: it’s genotoxic and an endocrine disruptor. It’s been linked to diabetes, it damages the reproductive system, and based on current evidence, it’s quite likely that DDT also causes cancer. It’s entirely possible that a chemical which we currently think is at safe levels will turn out to be dangerous and destructive. In that sense, organic is better.

So next time you’re standing there, trying to decide which honey to buy and rub sensually on your body for its ‘health benefits’, don’t be an idiot. Think about what matters to you. If organic matters to you, then look for certification. If not, that’s fine. But please, think consciously about your choice. Don’t be an idiot; don’t just buy the shiny one. O

Disabling Is disability culturally constructed? Words: Samuel Lymn / Illustration: Lillian Katsapis

Defining Disability I’m a PhD candidate in Asian Studies; I also have a form of cerebral palsy called “spastic diplegia”, defined as “a neuromuscular condition of hypertonia and spasticity in the muscles of the lower extremities of the human body, usually those of the legs, hips and pelvis”. Here, I want to consider what exactly constitutes a disability, using my recent trip to Melbourne as a basis for investigation. I think it’s fair to say that when most people think of “disability” they think of people with a physical or mental impairment. Within the field of Disability Studies, and among those who work with people with disabilities, a different attitude is evident concerning what constitutes a disability. An academic named Mike Oliver is credited as being one of the founding forces behind a new approach to understanding physical disability, which he terms the ‘social model’: 24

The social model of disability identifies systemic barriers, negative attitudes and exclusion by society (purposely or inadvertently) that mean society is the main contributory factor in disabling people. While physical, sensory, intellectual, or psychological variations, may cause individual functional limitation or impairments, these do not have to lead to disability unless society fails to take account of and include people regardless of their individual differences. His articulation of disability as a societal problem, rather than the fault of individuals with disabling conditions failing to adequately adapt, is a powerful re-conceptualising of the issue, and one with much merit.

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Disability The Social Model In Practice: Sylvester Stallone In Cliffhanger Recently, I traveled to Melbourne for an Asian Studies conference. Melbourne City Council claims “Melbourne’s public transport is the easiest and best way to get around the city” — I beg to differ. I was immediately struck by the inaccessibility of the transport system and of the city as a whole, at least within the areas I traveled. In central Melbourne the main mode of public transportation for a student such as myself is the tram. Melbourne City Council says “The introduction of a number of low-floor trams and accessible Superstops have made it easier for people with disabilities to use trams”. Within the Central Business District the step down from the tram to the ground below was possible to navigate, with some difficulty, because of these ac-

cessible “Superstops”. Outside of the CBD however it’s a different story entirely. The step down from the tram is very, very difficult for me and indeed dangerous. If I used a wheelchair it’s a case of “tough luck”. Allow me to elaborate: The trams travel on the tracks constructed for them right in the middle of the road. The other traffic flows comfortably past it on either side. The element of danger for me begins from the moment I get on the tram, to the moment I get off the tram. Particularly when I get off. That’s because Melbourne appears very trusting of the drivers in its fair city. They ask them to stop for the tram when passengers disembark and allow them to get across the road onto a traffic island or footpath. Yep, that’s right. They literally let you off in the middle of the road right in the midst of traffic, which has hopefully come to a complete stop while you scramble like a mad

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Disabling Disability

man to find a traffic island or footpath. In my case, this is a particularly insane set up. Getting off a tram is hard enough, let alone getting off a tram into traffic when you’ve got Barry the driver indicating right with particular determination and a tram driver whose idea of a long stop is the time is the time it takes you to read this sentence. My example provides strong evidence for the social model in action. Here, the inability of a person with a disability to go about their daily business (comfortably or at all, depending on the particulars of their impairment) is to the result of barriers inadvertently imposed by society — Barriers which effectively mean that they are not able to fully participate in the day to day societal activities. Something as essential as getting from A to B in “the easiest and best way” ranges in difficulty from exceptionally troublesome to downright impossible. It is true that other transportation options are provided for people with disabilities. These include disabled parking permits or subsidised taxi vouchers. However, these schemes are far from adequate. The former supposes ownership of a car, while the latter only allows an average of two trips a week over a six-month period and is therefore impractical and prohibitively expensive for daily transit. Further, I am certain some will say, “we never see disabled people using trams” as an excuse for their inaccessibility. Of course, the lack of use by people with disabilities is a symptom of the problem at hand, not a reason for inaction. I bring these points up both to counter the inevitable replies to this article early and in an attempt to not unfairly disparage the positive efforts made by Melbourne in accessibility. The issues are not limited to public transport; even crossing the road to enter the Melbourne University law school poses a challenge. In Adelaide, crossing the street is a breeze, as the footpath is designed to ensure that there is no need to step down onto the road, in order to cross it — that is not the case with Melbourne. Even around Melbourne University campus, with a reasonable expectation of high student traffic, no thought has been given to the students who are in some way less agile than average. I had to chuckle to myself (that, or scream), that to even get to the crossing I had to navigate through some “in progress” road repairs happening 26

to a traffic island. After I’d spent the majority of my day at the conference, risking life and limb on the tram, I wanted the opportunity to soak up some of the Melbourne restaurant scene and nightlife. This meant that I’d have to reprise my role as Sylvester Stallone’s Gabe Walker from the 1993 film Ciffhanger. Every location I visited was equally inaccessible. One example: I arrived out front of a restaurant, greeted by the signage indicating that there was amazing food to be had within. I stepped forward into the store’s enclave, set out amongst other less appealing restaurant choices. My decision was made. Unfortunately, at that moment my eyes were asked to look down. That’s when the dream fell apart. This restaurant, like the other locations I visited both for food and general good-times, required me to go up and down stairs to enter or exit the location. Believe you me, Cliffhanger is the perfect analogy for this scenario. In some cases it was worth the risk, I adore a good burger. Most of the time however, the stairs were too numerous and the decline too foreboding to even attempt it. A lot of my day is made up of decisions like these. But it doesn’t have to be that way. It shouldn’t be that way.

A Concluding Request I ask those not living with a disability to consider giving weight to the idea that disability might be better understood as Oliver has defined it. This definition recognises that the barriers to full participation, purposely or otherwise leading to exclusion, are the main contributory factor in disabling people. One’s impairment does not have to lead to disability unless society fails to include people regardless of their individual differences. So, next time you’re out in town on public transport spare a thought for those with disabilities; ask yourself, “could a person with walking sticks or a wheelchair make use of this service or location?” If the answer no, tell people. Educate your friends and family about the social model of disability and I guarantee you will see the physical environment, and the problems facing people with disabilities with a different appreciation. Further, if you keep the social model in mind, you will realise that these problems can be fixed. O

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Volume 79, Issue 8

Why Canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t We be friends? The case for a one-state solution Words: Tomas Macura

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As another flotilla of human rights activists attempts to breach Israel’s blockade of the Gaza strip, it is worth reflecting on the occupied territory’s chequered history. The ongoing oppression of the stateless Palestinian people by the Israeli government is one of the gravest injustices plaguing the international community. The current discourse and political action on the Israel-Palestine conflict is ineffective at reaching a long-term peaceful solution. Israel’s offer of a two-state solution — supported by Western states — is a joke when one considers how much land Israel has acquired in the West Bank through the illegal expansion of Jewish settlements. So is its requirement of a demilitarised Palestinian state. If Palestinians and Jews are to live together peacefully, a bi-national, single state is the only solution that will meet the legitimate

grievances of the occupied Palestinians; it should be pursued by both sides, with the backing of the international community. Whilst competing claims to the holy land date back thousands of years, the United Nations (UN) partition plan was inherently unjust to the Palestinian people. This plan, formed in 1947, carved out a piece of territory from the pre-existing Palestinian state — following the withdrawal of British colonial forces — and gave the Jewish people a homeland. The plan’s success can be put down to a number of reasons: Zionist lobby groups; support from the US because of its substantial Jewish population; the desire of European states to wash away the collective guilt of centuries of anti-Semitism which culminated in the ultimate act of inhumanity – the Holocaust.

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Jews made up 32 per cent of the population of Palestine in 1947, and considerably less before the end of the Second World War, but were given 56 percent of the territory. Furthermore, over 600,000 Palestinians were forcibly expelled from their homes by the newly formed Israeli state in 1948 to make way for incoming Jewish settlers. As a result of this expulsion, around 4 million refugees still live in the West Bank, Gaza strip and neighbouring Arab states today. With such inauspicious beginnings to the Israeli-Palestinian relations, it’s unsurprising that tensions have continued to escalate. The six-day war in 1967 ended with Israel expanding its borders and occupying the Gaza strip and West Bank. Previously, these areas, while under the sovereignty of Egypt and Jordan respectively, were controlled by the Palestinian people. Currently

there are over 600 military check-points in the West Bank and roads only Jews can access, adding hours to the travel time of Palestinians commuting to school, university and work every day. In addition, the continual expansion of Jewish settlements flies in the face of the Israeli government’s supposed desire to create a Palestinian state. When pointing the finger at the use of terror by Palestinian organisations, it is important to remember that Israel was partly born out of the use of terror against British officials and Arab residents, by paramilitary groups such as Lehi, Irgun and Haganah . These groups became components of the Israeli defence force and intelligence services. Whilst the violent targeting of innocent civilians to force political change can never be justified, it is obvious that terrorism is a political tool used by the weaker party which does not have access to a conventional military. Therefore, while the tactics used by Hamas’s military wing are abhorrent, they do not justify its political wing being labelled a terrorist organisation. Nor do they warrant the West’s total boycott of Hamas, following its electoral victory in Gaza in 2006. Hamas legitimately represents the will of the Palestinian residents living in Gaza; Israel and its supporters must engage with Hamas if a peaceful solution is to be attained. The blockade of the Gaza strip is an unnecessary tactic, which is contrary to international law and denies essential goods from reaching Palestinian civilians. Without this practice, the deaths of nine flotilla activists last year could have been avoided, irrespective of whether the Israeli soldiers were legitimately acting in self-defence. Pictures: Grassroots International / http://www.flickr.com/photos/grassrootsinternational

The threat to Israel from the use of terror is linked to the brouhaha over the deceptively named “security fence”, a main sticking point on the road to peace. The cement barrier is up to 8 meters high; it runs through university campuses, and separates communities. It is more appropriate to label it an apartheid wall. Alexander Polson from the Jewish Union of Students points out that, since the wall’s construction commenced in 2003, the amount of attacks against Israeli citizens by suicide bombers from the West Bank has significantly decreased, and believes that the wall is necessary to achieve lasting peace. The wall may be effective at providing security for Israeli citizens, but in terms of reaching a political solution which includes equality and self-determination for the Palestinians, living in a segregated territory with restrictions on free movement is surely counter-productive. According to Craig Nielsen from Action for Palestine, Palestinian terrorists can still get access to Israel proper

despite the wall, with the reduction in attacks since construction began being due to an overall change in Hamas’ strategy. He also believes that ‘the wall has only added to the issues that are provocative to Palestinians’ and that ‘such an action can never help the peace process.’ The International Court of Justice found the wall’s construction contrary to international law in 2004. Since the apartheid wall does not strictly follow the border of Israel proper but encroaches into the West Bank in an attempt to annex Jewish settlements, it is nothing more but a cynical land grab. It unnecessarily burdens the lives of ordinary Palestinians and exposes the Israeli government’s lack of commitment to achieving real peace. This lack of commitment was more recently exemplified by Israel’s grossly disproportionate invasion of the Gaza strip in December 2008. Ostensibly in response to the firing of rockets by Hamas militants into Southern Israel, the conflict resulted in around 1,400 Palestinian deaths – most of them civilians. The UN-authorised Goldstone report rightfully condemned the actions of both sides. It went as far as to lay accusations of war crimes, most prominently for the Israeli Defence Force’s use of white phosphorous. Craig Nielsen argues that the rocket attacks into Israel were in desperation, and that Israel’s invasion of the Gaza strip was a war crime, due to its collective punishment of all Gazans. He adds that if Israel froze illegal settlement expansion in the West Bank, stopped its policy of assassinating Hamas officials or ended the economic blockade of the Gaza strip (amongst other options), Israel would have had a bargaining chip to dissuade Hamas from firing rockets. The full-scale military invasion, which resulted in so many civilian deaths, could have been avoided if Israel engaged Hamas on a diplomatic level. Alexander Polson contends that the actions of Hamas constituted collective punishment for Israel, that Israel has the right to protect its citizens and that the Israeli Defence Force took special measures to prevent civilian casualties by sending warnings of attacks in civilian areas. However, when these claims are put alongside the sheer number of Palestinian civilians killed they are simply deceptive. The US, EU, Israel and the Palestinian Authority are working towards a peaceful resolution to the ongoing conflict, with a two-state solution at its core. However, when considering the political reality outlined above, it is obvious that this would not resolve the main grievances of the Palestinians.

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Alexander Polson believes that a two-state solution is the only option, contending that it is only extremists seeking to destroy the state of Israel, or right-wing Jewish settlers (who believe all of historic Palestine belongs to Israel), who advocate for a single state. But what of the possibility of a bi-national single state with Jerusalem as the shared capital, and equal rights for Jews and Arabs, including the choice of living anywhere in the territory? This is the only realistic way to achieve peace and security for both sides. It would remove the problem surrounding the ownership of Jerusalem, and the growth of Jewish settlements, traditional sticking points to a final agreement. This solution also resolves Palestinian refugees’ right of return to their homes, since they could live anywhere in the state. The entrenchment of Hamas can be dealt with by a federal system under which the Gaza strip, the West Bank and Israel’s current territory would be administered by local governments subordinate to a national government. Palestine’s upcoming push for UN membership is unlikely to succeed — the US has final veto over the Security Council’s recommendation. Anyway, it is irrelevant to achieving a practical solution since it is already recognised as a state by 122 nations, including Brazil, China, India and Russia. A tremendous amount of political will is needed on behalf of Israel, if it is to partially relinquish and share its sovereignty, while permanently turning its back on the discriminatory Zionist ideology which envisages an exclusively Jewish nation. The fact that Israel is a parliamentary democracy poses a problem since taking appropriate action on the above issues is politically unpopular amongst a large percentage of the Jewish population. A considerable challenge is the demographic imbalance caused by Muslims outnumbering Jews in a single state. However, this would not be insurmountable if a ban was instituted on political parties based on religious and ethnic identities. A minimum quota in the national parliament for each side would ensure that policies and laws were in the interests of all citizens. A new constitution would need to be implemented, with a strong protection of individual and minority group rights, and a separation of powers to ensure that an independent judiciary could effectively resolve disputes and maintain the rule of law. Whilst there are several issues preventing peace, a solution to the conflict is not impossible if Israel is willing to make the necessary concessions, to treat Palestinians with equality, and to share power in a single parliament. O

Volume 79, Issue 8

The Spider Photography/Words: Billy Horn

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And The Fly Volume 79, Issue 8

During summer my back door stays open to allow the air from the evaporative air-conditioner to circulate. Instead of a screen door we have those plastic strips that you see on the front doors of cafés and delis, and as a result, a number of flies get into the room. On holidays and bored, I would grab a fly-swatter and cull the population. In order to satisfy the primitive hunter inside of me, I would not settle for stationary flies — I would have to stir them into flight so that I could swat them mid-air with a Federer-esque backhand. One day, my dad showed me the macro function on his new digital camera, and since then, the flies and insects that inhabit my house have entertained me in a very different way.

The macro scale has the ability to focus your attention on the beauty of things that, in day-to-day life, our eyes simply scan over and ignore. Insects and spiders naturally make good macro subjects, and invariably become more interesting the closer and longer you look at them. Whether it’s to be repulsed by a hideous huntsmen or to attribute human qualities to a cute little jumping spider, macro photos of bugs and arachnids can be extremely engaging. Since taking these pictures, my photography has shifted away from insects, towards more abstract and colourful compositions. However, these shots of lazy flies and scary spiders demonstrate a basic curiosity to frame and capture small scenes, which is still the primary goal of my photography. O

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Volume 79, Issue 8

A New Sensation On Dit checks out the Saatchi Gallery Words: Tom Brebner

From July 30 the Art Gallery of South Australia hosts its largest exhibition ever — Saatchi Gallery in Adelaide: British Art Now. The show is the largest Australian exhibition of British contemporary art in a decade, and the first by London’s Saatchi Gallery to visit our shores. Unsurprisingly, the Gallery has been promoting the show like crazy — on busses, billboards, bus-stops and everywhere in-between. If I were a uni student looking to dodge a few lectures (and I am), I’d want to know what all the fuss is about.

Saatchi Gallery in Adelaide promises to be a bold and engaging snapshot of what’s happening in British visual art today. The exhibition is made up of a selection of works from the Saatchi Gallery’s 2010 exhibition, Newspeak: British Art Now, plus some never-before-exhibited pieces and an accompanying installation, My Bed by Tracy Emin, also from the Saatchi collection. So, what is the Saatchi Gallery, and why is it worthy of a huge exhibition in Adelaide? The Saatchi Gallery is a massive London gallery which, whilst open to the public, exhibits the art collection of one man- ad-

vertising mogul Charles Saatchi. There was a time when it was rare to see such a large public gallery of privately-owned art. But today, privately-owned galleries proliferate like cold sores at a rainbow party. Many Australians would be familiar with the recently-opened Museum of Old and New Art in Hobart. Owned by millionaire entrepreneur David Walsh, that Museum has recently been described as “an outlandish adult playground.” What distinguishes Charles Saatchi from David Walsh and other “megacollectors” is the influence which Saatchi has had over the art and artists he collects. Since his gallery’s opening in 1985, Saatchi has been an omnipresent figure in contemporary British art. It is possible for an artist to go from relative obscurity to “established” status on the back of one Saatchi purchase. Some critics even suggest that artists have been trying to “make what Saatchi will like.” As such, even ignoring his marriage to a TV chef, Saatchi’s Taste is a regular topic of debate in the UK. And whenever Saatchi purchases a work like Liu Wei’s Indigestion II, a two-metre long sculpture of a human turd, the debate rears

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its ugly head again. Yet Saatchi continues to collect. Maybe this is why he calls himself an “artaholic.” Now seems as good a point as any to note that Saatchi’s third wife is Nigella Lawson, who recently dubbed herself an “aquaholic” after admitting that her love for drinking water is an addiction which concerns her GP. Saatchi’s influence on the British art scene is best demonstrated by the much-celebrated part which he played in “discovering” the loose bunch of artists now known as the Young British Artists. Most active during the 1990s, this group is renowned for the shock tactics which their art typically employs, and for the fame and fortune which has accompanied their most successful members. Damien Hirst, the most notorious of them all, has been supported by Saatchi throughout his career. Hirst’s shark-in-formaldehyde creation, The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living, is a cultural icon. That piece was commissioned by Saatchi and owned by him until 2004. Indeed, Hirst’s shark was part of a travelling exhibition of the Young British Artists from the Saatchi Gallery which

was supposed to visit the National Gallery of Australia, but was cancelled by that gallery’s director. The motive behind the cancellation is the subject of some conjecture. But what is clear is that the exhibition, Sensation, caused more than just its namesake when it appeared in London and New York. At the London show, Marcus Harvey’s Myra, a portrait of child murderer Myra Hindley made from hundreds of copies of a child’s handprint, caused such uproar that Hindley herself wrote a letter from her cell calling for its removal. When Sensation moved to New York’s Brooklyn Museum, Myra was largely ignored. But the same cannot be said for Chris Ofili’s work, The Holy Virgin Mary. Ofili’s piece depicts a black woman surrounded by collaged images which, although they look like butterflies from afar, on closer inspection reveal themselves as pornographic images of female genitalia. The work also features a lump of varnished elephant dung, which constitutes one of Mary’s breasts. Disgusted by Ofili’s Mary, the Mayor of New York (unsuccessfully) attempted to withdraw the Brooklyn Museum’s annual funding, and (unsuccessfully) attempted to evict the Museum and its director from the Museum’s building. Leaping to his own defense at the time, Ofili pointed out that elephant dung is “quite a beautiful object.” Considering the controversy which Sensation caused in London and New York, perhaps it is no surprise that that exhibition of Young British Artists never made it to Australia. Taking into account the Saatchi collection’s synonymy with this group, it would almost be a shame for Saatchi to come all the way to Adelaide without some YBA representation. With this in mind, the curators of the upcoming show have accompanied the main exhibition of super-contemporary British art with a major installation, Tracey Emin’s My Bed. Emin is one of the most influential members of the Young

British Artists. My Bed is thought to be her greatest surviving work; a seminal piece from the YBA movement, recognizable to most people interested in post-Pop visual art. It consists of the artist’s bed, stained by “bodily secretions” and surrounded by slippers, condoms, and dirty underwear. You might find it to be

“

a succinct comment on the ongoing bastardisation of the original image. Hurvin Anderson’s interiors share much with those of Francis Bacon, save for Anderson’s striking use of colour. Sigrid Holmwood uses florescent paint to drastically re-envisage the work of Van Gogh, a technique British journalist Brian

“ What distinguishes Charles Saatchi from other “mega-collectors” is the influence which He has had over the art and artists he collects. ”

a strangely elegant, honest, confession. Or you might not.

So, what else will be in Saatchi Gallery in Adelaide: British Art Now? The truth is, I don’t really know — at the time of writing the show hasn’t started and I don’t have a list of works. But I’ve got this far with bullshit, and if you’re still reading then I’m still writing, and I may as well continue to do so. Plus, I’ve got a list of artists and can make some educated guesses about what might be on show. Take delight in proving me wrong!

It Happened in the Corner, a life-size sculpture of blokes in hoodies by Glaswegian collective, Littlewhitehead, so closely and eerily resembles the real thing that it may remind Gallery visitors of another recent favourite, Patricia Piccinini’s Game Boy. Then there’s Ged Quinn’s Dad With Tits, which reworks Gilbert Stuart’s portrait of George Washington into an exploration of sexuality and art history in a manner which recalls Marc Quinn’s Buck With Cigar, also recently on show at the Gallery. Another work, Toby Ziegler’s Designated For Leisure, is all fantasy geometry while Maurizio Anzeri’s combinations of embroidery and photography are extremely engaging. Scott King’s Pink Cher takes Jim Fitzpatrick’s famous caricature of Che Guevara and replaces Che’s face with that of pop icon, Cher —

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Sewell described as “fit only for the bonfire… the product of an Australian sensibility.” Besides being unduly harsh, those comments made this Australian scream, “WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?” Which takes me to my next point. If you like what you see at the Saatchi exhibition, then you ought to check out the South Australian Living Artists Festival. Hell, it would be unSaatchi of you not to. Conversely, if you don’t like the Saatchi show, you still ought to check out the SALA Festival, because there’ll be plenty of art around that’s nothing like that at Saatchi. The SALA Festival will be happening all across town from August 5. But before you suss-out SALA, you really should see Saatchi in Adelaide. Charles Saatchi has proven that he can hold and entertain an audience, and his Adelaide exhibition will be no exception. If there has been any lasting criticism of his exhibitions, it has been that they are too exciting, too over-the-top, rarely subtle. Inevitably, a few Gallery visitors will say that such bold images are wasted when their “meaning” appears nonsensical. Maybe those people will still find fun in the nonsense. In any case, a student ticket is only $10. You can’t even buy an extremely expensive coffee for that much. O

Local Band Bio

Hit the Jackpot Words: Seb Tonkin

Hit the Jackpot are an underestimated institution. Jess Thomas and Kynan Lawlor formed the band as a guitar ‘n’ drums duo way back in 2003, and after playing just a few shows, they scored a support for Sonic Youth in 2004 – which to them, must have felt kind of like being Wolfmother opening for Led Zep. Since then, it’s been nothing but consistency. Over the years, and across a couple of line-up changes, they’ve supported a pretty incredible stable of musicians: J Mascis (Dinosaur Jr), Stephen Malkmus (Pavement), Vivian Girls, Les Savy Fav, Oren Ambarchi, and My Disco, to name a fanboyflustering few. They’ve been active for a relative eternity when it comes to local bands, and played enviable support slots, but their stature doesn’t match their pedigree. In stage banter and interviews they’re anti-rockstars: polite, quiet, friendly, modest. And they aren’t famous, though maybe they should be.

hipsterism?), and the occasional intricate slow build. The lyrics are simple, often repeated, sometimes monotone, sometimes in shared sing-alongs. You’re never sure quite whether they’re being clever or not (or whether, as Jess said in a recent interview, they’re ‘just not very good at writing lyrics’), but they always look like they’re having fun as they swap instruments around the stage.

I remember seeing them for the first time, opening for The Mountain Goats. They were a pretty incongruous choice, but I liked them. Before they’d even finished I’d begun trying to work out why. They aren’t always easy listening. A quote of theirs that gets dragged up and parroted back pretty frequently in reviews and interviews is that they believe ‘enthusiasm and sincerity is better than technical proficiency’. It probably gets old hearing it for the umpteenth time, but it’s not a bad summation of the band. They’re a little out of tune sometimes, and aren’t the ‘greatest’ singers – and understandably that spooks people. But the initial sloppiness belies a very real simplicity, honesty, and passion in their work that explains why, if they haven’t made it big, they’ve still outlived so many contemporaries. Their sound – lo-fi, crunchy, catchy – mixes 90s jangle with a peculiarly Australian suburban laziness (hills-hoist

In the meantime, they’ve got a new EP out called Holiday, which could end up being their swan song. The official line-up became a four-piece, featuring Steph Crase (from the excellent Batrider and No Through Road). Seb Calabretto, who left the band and moved to England in 2008, also returns on a few tracks. Holiday has all the band’s many members and all its parts. There are cute songs, loud songs and build-y songs. It’s all pop. It ends with guest vocals from Matt Banham (frontman of No Through Road) on ‘I Know it’s Xmas’. It isn’t, and it wasn’t when the EP was released either – but hey, there’s no harm in humouring them. ‘Pour me a brandy; deck the halls / I know it’s Christmas, but fuck it all.’ Amen, guys. O

They’re also the influential progenitors of a small but vibrant little group of bands. Dud Pills, Terrible Truths, Fake Tan, Bitch Prefect – all small local bands that probably owe their existence, if not directly to Hit the Jackpot, certainly to the little niche they’ve carved out. They might have to carry the flame. Jess and Kynan, the original Hit the Jackpotters, are soon moving to Philadelphia – so if the band continues, it’ll be with a different lineup and on a different continent. Such is life.

You can stream Hit the Jackpot’s music from: htjband.bandcamp.com.

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Food Review A noble quest through uncharted waters in search of Holland(aise) Words: Stephanie Noble

The Deli Picture: Jon Mountjoy / http://www.flickr.com/photos/mountjoy

My quest to find the best hollandaise sauce in Adelaide recently found me eating breakfast at The Deli in Thebarton. The converted shop, jammed packed full of an assortment of chairs, artwork, lamps, instruments and trinkets, had a relaxed and almost ramshackle vibe. So many cafes boasting a similar “cool” or “alternative” setting, feel a little contrived, like someone has put a lot of effort into deliberately buying mismatch cutlery. But The Deli achieves it’s funky feel in a very organic way, almost like the chairs don’t match because they’re from hard rubbish, not because the owners thought mismatch chairs were the in thing. Now to the main event…the Eggs Florentine! Great eggs, and free range too, good crispy muffin, nice fresh spinach, and reasonable hollandaise — not the best, but a fair performance. My two companions gave their Vegetarian breaky and BLT rave reviews (I particularly enjoyed the creamy mushrooms I pinched off Maddy’s plate). The rest of the menu also looked appealing, espe-

cially the breakfast pizzas. I’m not only a stiff judge when if comes to hollandaise, I’m also super pedantic about a good hot chocolate. For me to be anywhere near satisfied it must be excessively strong. So at The Deli, I was pleased to get the understanding nod and wink from the waiter when I requested it to be extra chocolaty. The hot chocolate was good, a little too sweet and watery, but still nice and strong. To be super critical, I might just mention the annoying $15 minimum for EFTPOS, which saw me buy a serve of pancakes just to pay for my second coffee. The pancakes were worth it though, homemade and full of berries served with ice-cream, cream and maple syrup — the perfect breakfast dessert! Whilst overall breakfast at The Deli was a very pleasant experience (made even more so by the friendly staff) the hollandaise sauce was lacking slightly, so the mission continues! O

Volume 79, Issue 8

Now we’re cooking with Garf Words / Photography: Garf Chan

Cookie Pizza Ingredients

To serve

1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Depends on how and when:

150g butter 100 ml condensed milk (sweetened) 90g castor sugar 180g self-raising flour 230g dark choc bits

If you are with your friends, just put some ice cream and berries on top and eat it like a dessert pizza. If you are having a restless night, dip it into a glass of warm milk and it will give you sweet dreams (literally).

method • • • • • •

• •

Preheat oven to 180 degrees Use electric mixer and beat butter and sugar until light and fluffy Add condensed milk and beat until smooth. Sift in self raising flour and beat until smooth Stir in choc bits Grab a pizza tray. Line with baking paper. Pour the dough on the centre of tray. Place glad wrap on top and push it into a circle. Don’t roll it out because it will spread gently as it bakes Put it in the fridge for 10 minutes Bake for 12 to 15 minutes until light golden.

If you are with someone you really love, then you can save some choc chips to write messages to him/her. [If you’ve seen Sex and the City, you will know that I’m referring to the Miranda cookie with the ‘I ♥ U’ written on top.] Enjoy! =D *You can also make them into small individual cookies. Place half a tablespoon of mixture on a baking tray (lined with baking sheet). Place glad wrap over it and flatten each one with thumb gently. Bake also for 12 to 15 minutes until light golden.

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I came up with this recipe on the night of June 22nd when I was already into my second week of non-stop studying. That night, I was watching Masterchef my only source of SWOTVAC entertainmenr. The team challenge was to make dishes containing no sugar, no salt, no lactose and that were low in fat and low carb vegan. I started to become very hungry and began craving a lot of sugar, a lot of carbs, a lot of butter and a lot of fat. I believed my brain definitely deserved some sugar after a long day of studying. So, I decided to set myself a pizza challenge that would fall within the Masterchef time limit- but that would also break all the rules.

Volume 79, Issue 8

Le Tour Tryna catch me ridinâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; diirty Words: Stella Crawford

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I’ve recently discovered that any article which attempts to discuss the Tour de France without merely descending into Cadel Evans fandom runs into some early problems. Eventually, unavoidably, the sticky issue of ‘why we all care about the Tour anyway’ must be dealt with. Such an article must, in effect, question the purpose of its own existence. And basically, it turns out that existentialism doesn’t go down well in an article about sport. Having said that, however, I have no choice: I’ve had about four goes at writing about Cadel Evans, and you don’t want to read that either. I’m not sure if what I was writing was non-fiction or slash. So, with the self-conscious commentary out of the way — onwards and upwards, right? The Tour de France has been around for a while — this year it was celebrating its hundredth year since the inclusion of the Alps in the course. In fact, it was first staged in 1903, born out of a stoush between rival sporting newspapers. It’s not exactly a newcomer to the world of televised sports. Yet for most of us, this is the first year we’ve watched.1 Anyway, the question is this: why did the tour suddenly become the bandwagon we all had to be on? This year, the last three nights of racing all came in easily ahead of SBS’s previous record high rating for the tour, which was set in 2008. In fact, on both the Saturday and Sunday (with 690,000 and 704,000 viewers respectively) SBS scored an audience percentage for the evening in the double digits. If you wanted proof of the exponential growth in popularity of the Tour, you needn’t look further than the previous rating 1

I mean, not for me, of course: I was watching from way before it got cool.

high: 563,000. Cadel’s performance in the time trial, and hence his impending victory, made it to the front page of the Sunday Mail. To be more precise, it made it to about half of the front pages. The other half carried a front page story about the Norway tragedy. Cadel’s version of the paper went to print at about 1am, his victory taking an easy precedence over Europe’s most devastating terrorist attack since the Madrid bombings in 2004. Once again, in order to be clear: they started printing the first version of the Sunday Mail (with Norway), but then - after Cadel won - they ditched the Norway story and put Cadel’s victory on the front page instead. Yeah, I know. Awkward. Cadel Evans is the rather obvious reason for why we’re all suddenly watching. Our interest with any given sport fluctuates in proportion to how good Australia’s doing at that particular time. The Socceroos’ success dragged the World Cup into the limelight. The sports that Australians compete in receive blatant broadcasting preference at the Olympics. Tomic does well in the Australian Open, and suddenly he’s all that we want to talk about. We didn’t really have any reason to care about a French bike race until an Australian won it. To be fair, Cadel does seem to have qualities over and above simply being Australian. Watching his interviews, and I speak entirely objectively, you’re forced to conclude that he’s actually the nicest man alive. As an added bonus, his being 34 means that you aren’t reminded of your essential failure to achieve anything with your life while watching him succeed. But yeah, nationalism is a pretty powerful force when it comes to our sporting intake. However, I can’t bring myself to begrudge that much though, partly because

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I’ve been on every sporting bandwagon that ever was, and partly because it seems pretty special when almost 700,000 people are prepared to stay up till the early hours of the morning to watch some dudes cycle from Grenoble to Grenoble.2 Half of the stages, each lasting a day, finish with no time difference between any of the riders. The final stage, going into Paris, is not contested by the general classification riders (this is code, by the way, for riders actually looking to win the Tour; most of them aren’t), instead they drink champagne and hug each other and pose for pictures. While riding. If you were looking for a sport that was really hard to get into, well, you’ve found it. The tactics of racing, delivered in Phil Liggett’s resonant tones, can take most of the race to understand. The oft quoted sentiment that most of the reporting on the tour relates to off-road controversies may be true, but perhaps that’s because it’s difficult to condense a day’s racing into a single page. Complex, intellectual, and involving bicycles: it’s basically a hipster’s dream sport. If we ignore the fact that their fixies can’t go up mountains, it’s perfect. Before this year, and Cadel, there was theoretically nothing that could make it mainstream. But don’t worry too much, guys, with just 10% of the viewing figures for one evening, and in all likelihood continuing to be broadcast on SBS, the Tour’s current popularity is probably just a temporary high. In a couple of years, when Cadel has retired, we hipsters might be able to watch it again. O 2 Cadel got it wrong when he said that the time trial was a fast ride from point (a) to point (b); it was in fact a (very) fast ride from point (a) to point (a).

C O L U M N S

Columns

C O L U M N S

A cure for all ills Words: Adam Marley

Filled with vitriol and disdain – don’t ever let me near the big red button. (Not the first time I’ve typed those words in that sequence.) The first part of that statement isn’t necessarily pertinent; sometimes my slightly anti-social fantasy isn’t fuelled by anything other than juvenile curiosity or boredom. If at this point you’re feeling a little lost, let me clarify: the big red button I’m referring to is one of those proverbial, clichéd buttons that launches all of one superpower’s nuclear arsenal at another superpower, inciting a retaliatory button pushing, so-on-so-forth, until the earth is enveloped in a nuclear winter that results in the eradication of human civilization, if not all human life. The cause of my misanthropy? Human Nature. (Seriously, ***Whisper Your Name really does make me want to kill people. Four people in particular. No?) People, as a group, are belligerent, ignorant, violent, xenophobic, selfish, destructive arseholes. Sure, individuals can be lovely people (though I will argue that there is no truly selfless act — doing a good deed feels good, and is such motivated at least in part by self-interest), but the ratio isn’t in favour of the lovely people, and more importantly, said lovely people very regularly turn into said arseholes when in close proximity to too many other lovely people and arseholes. WikiPlato suggests that this type of pessimism is the result of optimism (in regards to human nature) being repeatedly disappointed. Perhaps; though while you could call it pessimism, I would call it being realistic. It could be existential nihilism, which seems more likely as I don’t ever remember being particularly optimistic regarding human nature (though my naivety is pro-

claimed to me every time I am disappointed) and, wait, no, it IS existential nihilism. Well then, that settles that. Good thing to, as an existential nihilist Ragnarök probably won’t be of any interest to me besides purely as a spectacle (and thus hopefully won’t be something I actively pursue). Don’t judge me too harshly though, please. I posses sentiment and compassion, I like and I love (at a micro level). But when I take a snapshot of the whole picture it develops a little too clearly focussed, which perhaps isn’t the best thing for optimism or philanthropic endeavour. Also be aware that my misanthropy has no misanthropic consequences (besides talking enthusiastically about eugenics without the acceptable level irony — worrying my more ironic/pleasant friends). I’m concerned about the economic development of those yet to develop, yet I lack the subjectivity caused by fauxaltruism or inherent ‘morality’. My objectivity better places me to make a lasting difference, as opposed to simply prolonging suffering (Mr Wilde had it right). I can do this because of misanthropy (though I’ll suggest that isn’t the only path); my motivation to help those less fortunate isn’t founded on or clouded by compassion (remember – micro). instead, logic prevails unhindered: I see a problem, I strive to enact a solution. It is the same drive that makes me a vehement proponent of nuclear energy (AND renewables, but that is a debate for another time) despite caring very little about the ecological un-sustainability and plight of Man. It isn’t lost on me that this planet and its incumbent flora and fauna would be much better off without us. People are looking for a solution? Lose the people. O

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Positive spin Words: Emma Jones Here’s a tip if you ever feel too accomplished and need to bring yourself down a notch: write a resume. Nothing will deflate your lifetime accomplishments like listing them in 12pt Arial. Suddenly “Most Improved Award: Year 9 Science” looks pathetic, especially when the Microsoft Word template resume lists Booker Prizes and CEO positions. In sheer desperation to appear grown-up and sophisticated, you remove all the childish crap, and then tear your hair out when all that’s left is half a page of employment history at McDonald’s and a list of skills you don’t even really have. (It didn’t take my workplace long to figure out that “punctual” was about as true as if I’d put “Nobel Prize Winner”.) But what about the skills you do have? Everybody has skills. Some people even have skillz. My particular talents include but are not limited to laddering stockings, laughing like a walrus and the Famous Emma Jones Wine Scull. Take a moment to think about yours. The ones that aren’t already on your resume are probably not on there because they make you look like a fuckwit. This is certainly true of mine. Which sucks, because we should be proud of our skills, even though they may very well render us undesirable as an employee. Luckily for you, one of my skillz is an ability to twist the truth and make pretty much anything sound awesome, or “professionally advantageous”. (See what I did there?! I’M A WIZARD.) You Facebook chat like a champion? Outstanding keyboard skills. Your brain space is 70% Simpsons quotes and 30% useful information? Excellent memory retention. I could go on—and I will. Take these 5 commonly useless skills and put ‘em on your resume.

1. Good liar

Lying is essential if you, like me, are often “sick” but still want to maintain a job. “Sick” could mean anything from hung over to still drunk to simply can’t be arsed, but with your supreme lying skills, you can transform that hangover into a highly contagious phlegm-lobbing flu and get out of work for a week at a time! Excellent. Career suggestions: real estate agent, politician, changeroom attendant at Supré (“omg those jeggings look awesome babe you should like totally buy them!!!!”). What you can put on your resume instead: creative.

2. Good in bed

Obviously telling your boss that you’re good in bed is highly inappropriate, unless your boss is really hot. Or you’re applying for a job at David Jones. Career suggestions: porn star, high-end escort, Cosmo columnist. What you can put on your resume instead: flexible.

3. Procrastination

When I get to work, it’s about an hour before I actually sit down to my desk and start doing shit. I make instant coffee, arrange my highlighters in colour order, check my emails and then sit around for probably about forty minutes shuffling papers and trying to look important. Then I get paid for it. Career suggestions: buy a packet of cigarettes and a Farmers’ Union Iced Coffee, put on some high-vis and HEY! you’re getting paid to do council roadworks! What you can put on your resume instead: multi-tasker.

4. Tech-savvy I know how to Alt+Tab my way out of a sneaky Facebook chat, divert a firewall, submit directly to my blog from work’s internal email system and make twenty minutes of Centrelink hold music look like work. I also know how to delete my history so nobody ever knows that I spent 7.5 hours of company time on Tumblr. Invaluable. Career suggestions: Master Chef contestant (those without emo fringes need not apply). What you can put on your resume instead: advanced computer literacy.

5. Thief Does anybody actually buy stationery anymore? If you work in an office, it’s all free. So long as you’ve got a big handbag. Mine’s big enough for a ream of A4 paper. Just saying. Career suggestions: member of Murdoch family, cat burglar, black market stationery retailer. What you can put on your resume instead: resourceful. O

Volume 79, Issue 8

Diversions Answers on page 5

Fully Booked Guess the literature from the opening lines Watership Down – Richard Adams • Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen 2001 – A Space Odyssey - Arthur C. Clarke • Heart of Darkness – Joesph Conrad Lord of the Flies – William Golding • The Trial – Franz Kafka • To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee Nineteen Eighty-Four – George Orwell• Gravity’s Rainbow – Thomas Pynchon• Slaughterhouse 5 – Kurt Vonnegut •

1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

“All this happened, more or less” “Someone must have been telling lies about Joseph K., for without having done anything wrong he was arrested one fine morning.” “It is a truth universally acknowledged that a singe man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” “The boy with fair hair lowered himself down the last few feet of rock and began to pick his way towards the lagoon.”

6. 7. 8. 9. 10.

“The primroses were over.”

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“When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.” “A screaming comes across the sky.” “The Nellie, a cruising yawl, swung to her anchor without a flutter of the sails, and was at rest.” “Behind every man now alive stand thirty ghosts, for that is the ratio by which the dead outnumber the living.” “It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.”

Diversions Triviarama

Crypt-o-Clues

1. How old was the Queen Mother when she died in 2002? 2. What will be the mascot of the new Greater Western Sydney Football Club? 3. What mammal was originally known as a camelopard? 4. What is the frequency for Radio Adelaide? 5. What is kabuki? 6. What, to the nearest kilometre, is the official distance for a marathon? 7. Who discovered penicillin? 8. Who was the (now deceased) lead singer of Joy Division? 9. What party was our first Prime Minister, Edmund Barton, from? 10. Who is Charles Saatchi’s wife?

AWKWORD

1. I hear that this white powder smells beautiful (6) 2. When it’s all in caps, he freaks out (6) 3. The French sea is confused in my kingdom (5) 4. That Raga man is mixed up! (7) 5. That picture is shocking (7) 6. This shakes and sounds the same (6)

Targedoku

“Flap” What it means: verb (1): (of wings) to move up and down in order to fly. (2) To flutter or wave around. noun (1) something thin that covers an opening. (2) A state of panic or exasperation.

Find as many words as you can using the letters on the Sudoku grid (including a 9 letter word). Words must be four letters or more and include the highlighted letter. Use the letters to solve the Sudoku (normal Sudoku rules apply) P

What it sounds like it means: The word has an unfortunate, unavoidable connection with some loose, partly moist, drooping piece of skin.

Reason: Perhaps it is the forward thrust of the tongue when articulating the onomatopoetic monosyllable. The tongue — itself a moist, semidetached body part — becomes not just a vehicle for conveying meaning, but a clandestine injector of compromised subconscious thoughts.

Volume 79, Issue 8

E T

T E

State Of The Union Words of wisdom from your benevolent union president Words: Raff Piccolo

I found that when I finished high school, I felt I had reached a pivotal moment in my life. I was no longer considered a child, a dependent, or a minor. In those intervening months, between the end of high school and the start of university, nothing swayed my view of myself and my place in the world. As far as I was concerned I had entered a phase of my life where I could do what I wanted, when I wanted, without any restriction placed upon my movements or actions. Previously my actions constantly faced scrutiny by my parents, or were restricted because of my age. â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;No more,â&#x20AC;&#x2122; I told myself. However, upon starting university, I received a huge reality check. The world that I had craved for many years, the freedom I yearned, suddenly seemed to have disappeared. Sure I had freedom, but at what cost had it come? Coupled with freedom to choose and to act as I wished, I faced new hurdles. I was now faced with self reliance and motivation and insecurity. No longer was there a teacher to push me a long when I did not feel like working, or somebody to remind me of my due dates for assignments. All this was now my responsibility. To add to my uncertainty, my world view, values and opinions were constantly challenged in lectures by the new materials and ideas presented to me and directly in tutes by my classmates. This can be rather confronting for anyone. I suddenly I felt rather small again, lost in a big, bad world. Though I have mentioned before, it should be reiterated; do not be frightened by this feeling of insecurity, or loss of direction. You are not the only one experiencing these feelings. They go hand in hand with being a student. But just because you feel lost, like the world is too big for you to navigate sometimes, it does not mean you are beyond hope. The world can be changed. Even by you! You only have to look to the uprisings across the Middle

East and North Africa in recent months to realise that even when you live in a climate of fear, change can still triumph. So with a new semester ahead of you, I ask that you take a moment to reflect on what you see as your place in the world. What role will you play to make it a better place? As students at university, we are at the forefront of knowledge, information, and innovation. Letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s harness these resources to change the world in which we live. Whilst I ask that you draw your inspiration from the students in the involved in the uprisings across the Middle East and North Africa, I am not advocating that you overthrow a government. Instead I ask that you realise that change is possible in your own community. Use the skills, knowledge and networks you have developed at university to give back to your community and leave your mark on the world. If we all do that I have no doubt that world will be a better place and we, better people. O

Need to get in touch with Raff? w: auu.org.au e: auupresident@auu.org.au f: facebook.com/raff.piccolo

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