On Dit Magazine: Volume 78, Issue 4

ondit

magazine !

STUDENT LIFE, OPIN LAIDE ION, P ADE OLI

V:

78

N:

TICS , AND

4

CULTURE.

campus Feature Carthago Delenda Est or Bye Bye Classics

3-6

Campus feature O'Ball Ain't What It Used to be

7-10

exploration bisexuality and the media

11-13

Food Match your beer

14-15

photo essay andre castelluci's 'Gleaming the cube'

16-17

Personal reflection Plastic surgery

20-23

Culture War Films, swimwear, record covers etc.

24-36

Campus noodles, posters, politicians etc.

37-44

Columnists in twenty years...

45-48

Illustration by Margaret Lloyd

Note: Iran Primer pages 28-30

want to contribute?

EDITOR S’ NO T

Email: ondit@adelaide.edu.au Phone: 08 8303 5404

ES

Web: ondit.com.au

In which the On Dit eds get all lofty and philosophical (again)

While working on Issue 3, we received an invitation to appear on Radio Adelaide show ‘Y’, to speak about student activism. Mateo and I went along (Connor was in class), not really sure what to expect. While all the On Dit editorial team have political opinions, none of us really identify as ‘student activists’. When we turned up, it quickly became clear that the interviewer wished to focus on On Dit’s role regarding student activism, and how that has changed from the 1960s and 1970s - the so-called ‘golden days’ of student activism.

The basic premise of the interview was that On Dit had a role in rallying the masses. It was a premise Mateo and I rejected. All three of us see On Dit’s basic role – at least this year – to remain a neutral publication, one that gives all interested students a voice.

As editors, we would never avowedly take an editorial line against or in favour of any activist position. Our job is done if we can analyse, poke fun at, and draw out the complexities of any situation. This may be done by running opposing pieces next to each other, by encouraging

2

our writers to remain neutral, or simply by including submissions from people who disagree with our articles. Activists of all persuasions seek to simplify things in order to strengthen their call for change. But we think On Dit should aim to preserve the complexity and nuance of any situation, particularly those that spur student activism.

Aiming to remain neutral is what helps make On Dit an effective voice for students. Students have different opinions. There are few segments of society as varied both in background and opinions as what can be found in a cross-section of the university population. This is especially important now that universities are more socio-economically and racially diverse than ever before, but I’m sure it was the case in the 1960s and 1970s as well. Policies and events that take the views of ‘the student body’ for granted, and assume that there are no differences of opinion between us, will always ring hollow. It’s no wonder that the success of student activist events these days isn’t measured how many people take part, but by how much media attention they generate.

Taking a political stance in terms of content will exclude the voices and beliefs of many students. So as editors, we won’t exclude legitimate dissenting voices. This is complicated due to the fact that the AUU, or more specifically its affiliate body, the SRC, is an activist organisation. As a part of the AUU, there is a belief that we should be providing support to other parts of the body that provide our funding. Thankfully, so far this year many in the AUU, who see the need for a neutral On Dit, have supported us. For this, we are ultimately thankful.

Forever yours, Myriam (and Connor & Mateo)

Editors: Connor O'Brien, Myriam Robin, Mateo Szlapek-Sewillo Writers: John Eldridge, Mateo Szlapek-Sewillo, Kim Dowling, Margaret Lloyd, Michael Norris, Anders Wotzke, Walter Marsh, George Ujvary, Alexander Gordon-Smith, Seb Tonkin, Elizabeth Flux, Sarah Bown, Melanie Smart, Maureen Robinson, Paris Dean, Lewis Dowell, John Dexter, Tomas Macura, Ben Revi Copy-editors: Thom Diment, Christopher Arblaster, Georgina Falster, Holly Ritson, Timothy McCarthy Photographers: Andre Castellucci, Craig Cullum, George Ujvary Illustrators: Lillian Katsapis, Connor O'Brien, Daniel Brooks, Ian Houghton, Mike Kline, Louise Vodic, Margaret Lloyd Printed by Graphic Print group

cover Photograph courtesy Fruzsi Kenez

On Dit is an Adelaide University Union publication.

The opinions expressed within are not necessarily those of the editors, the University of Adelaide, or the Adelaide University Union.

On Dit Magazine

|

Features

3

John Eldridge

T

he University of Adelaide circa 1960 was a very different sort of institution from the one we know today. A playground almost exclusively for the middle and upper classes, and confining itself mostly to traditional academia and the high professions, it sought to be an antipodean Oxford or Cambridge.

Part of what the university saw as its mission was indoctrination to an appreciation for the classics. For many

years, students studying arts and law were compelled to take at least a year of Latin, and though this requirement did not persist into the latter half of the last century, the subject remained reasonably popular. Similarly, there was a popular feeling that it was important for the university to teach Greek and Roman history, and the enrolments of in-translation classics courses were very strong, sustaining

Illustration this page by Connor O'Brien, proceeding pages by Lillian Katsapis

On Dit Magazine

six or seven full time academics and a plethora of subject choices throughout the 1960s and 1970s.

Fast forward to 2010, and the picture for classics is bleak. With four full time staff members, a mere nine subjects constituting the core annual offering, ancient Greek abolished, and the Latin course-offering reduced to two subjects, one must ask – what happened?

How did we get to where we are? To explain the radical decline in the classics at Adelaide, one must explore the tremendous shift in the understanding of what a university is for.

n

4

The decades following the 1960s saw serious changes in higher education policy. The 1974 abolition of fees for tertiary education

by Whitlam’s Labor government represented, symbolically at least, the beginning in what was to become a massive increase in access to and participation in the sector. Though the HECS scheme was to be introduced only a few years later, the message Whitlam’s changes sent to those who were traditionally excluded from the universities could never be taken back. The next major policy shift was to come in the late 1980s, from the Labor government of Bob Hawke. Hawke’s education minister John Dawkins spearheaded a move to give full university status to all of the nation’s Colleg-

|

Features

es of Advanced Education – centres that had generally delivered more vocationally-focused training.

From the 1990s onwards, the impacts of these policy changes began to be felt. The universities were taking on more students than ever before, many of whom came from low socioeconomic backgrounds – students much less likely to embrace the study of a high culture from which they were alienated. Also, given that the universities were now competing in an undifferentiated market with the former CAEs, many of the new students even at the sandstone universities were primarily interested in a vocational education. What has emerged is a tension between the new demands on the universities and the older notion of a university as a gatekeeper of high culture and elite academia.

The decline in classics at Adelaide, then, is a symptom of a larger problem – the relative decline of student interest in the humanities and other traditional disciplines at the

On Dit Magazine

universities. The university is becoming an increasingly instrumental institution, whose customers have more of an interest in arming themselves for a competitive workforce than in immersing themselves in the Western Canon. Han Baltussen, head of the discipline of Classics at Adelaide, acknowledges ”a lack of appreciation for the classics and the humanities more broadly - everybody seems to want to go to subjects that somehow immediately and clearly contribute to a professional career.“ Accompanied by a policy of chronic underfunding, in which real funding has increased each year since 1996 by two percent in real terms while costs have increased by up to six percent, it was only a matter of time before the red ink began to flow for the humanities. For classics, D-Day was in late 2008, when the decision was handed down that the discipline would be required to cut its course offering from fourteen to nine courses annually. Economics necessitated that the very unpopular course offerings in Ancient Greek and Latin would have to come under the knife, and thus the majors in Latin and Greek disappeared.

|

Features

Professor Gerard O’Brien, head of the School of Humanities, acknowledges that the choices that were taken were regrettable, but maintains that they were necessary: “Obviously all of this is unfortunate. Many people think that a Group of Eight university should have Ancient Greek and Latin majors in its undergraduate program, so the decisions that were taken by the school over the last couple of years have been very difficult decisions to take. But they were decisions that were forced on us by economic circumstances. Everyone’s aware of the pressure that universities are under, and everyone’s aware that humanities areas are under special pressure. And they’re under special pressure not just because of government funding issues, but they’re under special pressure because enrolments in the humanities have been declining over time.

And they have been doing so be- 5 cause I think students have been keen on more vocationally-based programs. Whether they’re right to be keen on those programs – who knows. But the truth is that they have been voting with their feet.”

If the problem is one of popularity, it might be tackled from

On Dit Magazine

6

several different approaches. Firstly, one might argue that though occasionally harsh, a ‘free market’ for undergraduate courses is the most efficient and fair allocation of educational resources for the university. This view would have the survival of Classics rest upon the ability of the discipline to market itself to students, and to compete with vocational courses and with the social sciences for student numbers.

This would fail to take account, though, of the possibility that some problems are not so easily subject to the logic of the spreadsheet.

Many - myself included - would argue that the humanities and the classics has an unassailable cultural importance, and cannot absolutely be subject to the whims of a decade.

Though most would agree that the allocation of university resources must somewhat be subject to student demand, there must be some threshold at which market logic is suspended, and the importance of preserving intellectual capital is acknowledged.

Has Adelaide crossed this threshold with the cuts to the language program? Dr Baltussen certainly believes so, arguing that Adelaide may lose its ability to produce “postgraduates who are internationally competitive”. He explains: “In other countries, students will come through the system with at least some language work, and at postgraduate level you have to have some language. It is a given that to be a serious scholar in this kind of subject, you have to have some knowledge of the primary languages.”

There is certainly a worry is that the loss of the language majors may end the capacity of the university to cultivate competitive postgraduates, thus endangering the health of the field in the long run. Whether this concern is sufficient to justify a further cross-subsidy of the language majors, though, is uncertain.

Moreover, it is difficult to identify exactly where the necessary funds could be found.

The School overall is turning a deficit, and thus even if one reached the conclusion that some

|

Features

crucial threshold had been crossed with the language cuts, one would have to look further afield than the School to remedy the problem.

Future developments will certainly be watched closely, especially by those within Classics. The academics within the field have an uphill struggle ahead of them, facing not only the lot of the humanities in general, but also an unfortunate image problem which is suffered by some of the academic disciplines which are closely associated with the ‘high culture’ curriculum of the universities of old.

This image problem is perhaps the least of the worries for Classics at the moment, but it is nonetheless unhelpful. The classics are dogged by the perception that they are at best tendentious and uncritical, at worst, culturally chauvinistic and reactionary. Moreover, the field necessarily concerns itself to a great degree with the writings of a class of literate elites.

One confronts the common citizen in the work of the Greats fleetingly, and their mark is left on history only by their brushing against the key actors of the day. The illiterate voter who features in Plutarch’s famous anecdote of Aristides’ near-ostracism is very much a Hellenic Joe-the-Plumber, and Plutarch is not quick to provide us with any account of common life that is anything more than such a caricature.

It might be only natural for some then to feel that such texts epitomise those aspects of the ‘Western tradition’ that are odious and regrettable.

All one can do is hope that those who do find something worthwhile in the classics can steer a course through these concerns. The universities have become more open, more fair, and less culturally parochial over the last few decades, and it is an achievement we should all admire. Nonetheless, we should not throw the baby out with the bathwater. To say that a university should be something more than an elitist institution, a temple of ‘high culture’ is not to say that there might not be something in that culture worth studying, understanding, and preserving for posterity.

On Dit Magazine

|

Features

7

Mateo Szlapek-Sewillo

M

arch 20, 2010. Election day. O’Ball day.

I vote above the line and head to work.

Thoughts then turn to the evening. My legs are weary, but my mind is buzzing. After all, it’s my first time. I don’t really know what to expect. I scurry onto campus and vault - kind of - over the balustrade into the On Dit office to retrieve my ticket, which I find lying on the desk. I hear the strains of Cloud Control in the background. Full of expectation, I rush up the stairs, around the corner into the Cloisters, to find… pretty much no one. Oh. Huh. What a letdown.

O'Ball is sick, you know. I couldn’t guess it from standing around, bewildered at the vast

expanses of empty space around me, but after years of being run in a commercially untenable manner, one of the Adelaide University Union's (AUU) flagship events risks ruin, which in turn poses problems for the finances and credibility of the AUU itself.

There exist fundamental problems at all levels of O'Ball's organisation and marketing.

They begin with the most trivial, frustrating one imaginable for O'Ball organisers and the AUU: the event's name. For those who don't know, O'Ball is a rock concert - one that has, in times when money was far less of an object, been graced by the likes of Eskimo Joe and Sarah Blasko. Yet people still mistake its

Illustration by Lillian Katsapis

On Dit Magazine

8

intentions. Often, it's mistaken for a tuxedo and cocktail dress 'ball', presumably complete with schmaltzy string quartet. It's a source of much consternation for Jonathan Brown, one of three O'Ball student directors. “I would have heard hundreds of people across the campus asking the question, 'what do I wear? Should I come in a dress or something?'” Frustrating, and laughable though it undoubtedly is, this presents a very real problem for the AUU in its efforts to publicise the event, and has done for many years.

The solution, Brown says, is clear. “A lot of the [AUU] Board are really attached to tradition. But being involved with O'Ball this year has taught me that sometimes you have to let go of tradition... there's a certain point where you have to realise it's time for a change.” A name change would be tricky, and a new one would have to be carefully considered, but an opportunity to eliminate the ambiguity and adopt a name that more accurately reflects what the event actually is, should be embraced by the AUU. The current one damages marketing prospects and confuses too many students.

Another reason why the name seems a little archaic in this day and age is the increasing move away from O'Ball - Orientation Ball - as an event actually designated to aid students in the orientation process.

|

Features

This year, O'Ball took place at the end of week three of lessons, at the tail end of Adelaide’s brief, intense festival season. After weeks of festivals Adelaide, Fringe, WOMADelaide and Format, as well as the Clipsal 500, students are physically and financially drained. The unfortunate timing of the event is an issue recognised

by O’Ball organisers. Brown emphasises that to compete with these events was not O’Ball’s intention, and that the eventual date chosen was the least rivalrous one possible. But it’s a competitive time, and, like it or not, O’Ball is fighting a losing battle.

Around 460 tickets presold. Some more sold at the door, sure. Bringing it to a ‘grand’ total in the vicinity of 550 revellers. Which sounds perfectly respectable until you factor in all the logistical costs of running the event: bands, security, and the stage. All told, O’Ball ended up slightly more than $12,000 in the red this year, which is, almost to the dollar, what was spent on bands. So it can be solvent… just take out the tunes.

Nearly $22,000 was spent on the ever-nebulous ‘logistics’ - construction of the stage, mainly. There is one significant mitigating circumstance; the AUU did not receive its customary takings of around $10,000 from alcohol sales. Normally, the University’s catering firm is obliged to give over its O’Ball revenues to the AUU. How-

On Dit Magazine

ever, the University of Adelaide Club, as of this year the University’s primary hospitality provider (having taken over from the National Wine Centre), would likely have baulked at this suggestion - no one likes being thrown in the deep end so early in their tenure. When considering the $8,000 loss of O’Ball in 2009, this year’s stacks up well. But salvation is fleeting when you consider that, each year post-Voluntary Student Unionism (VSU), the AUU has budgeted for a $10,000 loss. With all respect to O’Ball organisers, rock concerts should really be making money, especially when they’re plastered with corporate signage. Concluding that a loss of ‘only’ $2,000 more than what was budgeted for - particularly when that estimate is a negative one and the event itself is modest compared to previous years - is a positive outcome screams one thing. That it’s time for Obama-like amounts of change.

Another mitigating circumstance is the imposition of VSU itself. Since the second semester of 2006, the AUU has expended much of its energy attempting to stabilise its ravaged finances. The adjustment to a severely diminished membership base - and all the consequences of said adjustment - has had to prioritise financial viability more than ever before. And it’s not easy to get more creative, so the AUU has found that it’s often easier to get smaller. This rationalisation has affected O’Ball as much as other events. Says Brown, “We used to be able to spend a lot more money on bigger-name bands, but it’s now at a point where there’s no room in the budget for a really big band… the money just plain isn’t there.”

This has the unfortunate effect of not ensuring a return on any initial investment, as this year’s testifies. “There’s just a certain level of money you have to put in to get it back, and I don’t think that amount of money was put in this year,” he continues. Especially when the event’s target demographic is the notoriously unpredictable student market (particularly in Adelaide, which, according to Brown, is a nightmare for promoters for the same

|

Features

reason). “O’Ball, from having taken this jump from a much bigger festival, has lost almost all of its brand loyalty… what’s happened over the past couple of years, is it needs to re-brand.” I asked him whether he thought this would further risk the loyalty of long-time fans. “I think it’s been lost already, to be honest. That shows in the ticket sales this year.” Cringe-worthy though it may be to many, a sharper turn toward corporate sponsorship and away from whatever independent roots O’Ball grew from may be necessary to secure the event’s financial viability.

There’s not a whole lot of denial floating around. AUU Marketing Manager, Lara Mieszkuc, careful to point out she is speaking from her own perspective and not necessarily as an employee of the AUU, explains the problems and their solutions to me. “Last year, I didn’t want O’Ball if it were at the start of the year…

It won’t run again in that format [as currently].

O’Ball used to get 3,000 people, but now I just 9 don’t think it can compete with Soundwave, Clipsal, WOMAD…” When I question whether the timing of O’Ball does, in fact, mean to compete with these festivals, she points out the last O’Ball that really tried to go head-to head with them. In 2007, O’Ball played host to the talents of Something for Kate, Sarah Blasko, and Regurgitator, among others. The event lost $70,000. “So what we’ve [the AUU] done is to draw it back to an alternative, less commercial event, so it’s not directly competing with any of these things.” However, doesn’t this policy devalue O’Ball as an Orientation event?

Is the answer, then, to drop the name and have it at another time of the year? Mieszkuc has a slightly different idea. “Have something during Orientation, with similar size bands [to this year], in the Unibar. So you’ve got a 500 capacity, you’re not spending as much money.

Then have something later in the year, maybe in October. I think that in March, there’s just no point doing anything like this any more.” It seems a suggestion that has an answer to most questions. If O’Ball were clearer in its ambi-

|

On Dit Magazine

10

Features

ing act to get more people through the gates and watching these smaller bands.

The situation as it stands is self-perpetuating. Downsizing O’Ball because you recognise that it cannot compete with higher-profile events then keeping it at the same part of the year and suffering doubly because the bands are less likely to attract a crowd is a strange decision indeed. The hands of the AUU are tied only so long as it persists with branding it as an Orientation event, as this necessitates it taking place around festival season. Reducing losses by cutting costs is a zero-sum game that threatens the event and risks alienating students. Changing the headline act from Sarah Blasko to Yves Klein Blue may well draw a different demographic, but it will be a smaller one equally conflicted by what’s going on around it. The AUU must be clearer in its goals for what O’Ball should be, both for it, and for students, because although success is relative, it currently meets no one’s criteria for it.

tions, then it would not face as many criticisms about its place in the festival and University calendars.

It is not all doom and gloom, however. The line-up itself ? Brown thinks that the Waterslides, Hot Little Hands, Cloud Control, Space Invadas, and Yves Klein Blue put on a great show. “We were really happy. Within the constraints we had, we got some really good live performers. We knew we couldn’t afford a huge name to come and perform, so we had to pick based on their ability to put on a good live show”. I am inclined to agree. Though I missed the first half of the event, what I did see impressed me. Friends who were present for the event's entirety echo these sentiments.

The contrast between the folk-inflected pop of Cloud Control, smooth R&B of Space Invadas and rougher rock edges of Yves Klein Blue was a complimentary one that offered something for music enthusiasts of most persuasions.

The key thing lacking, however, for reasons explained above, was the lack of a major headlin-

Rock 'n Roll Excess: Recent O'Ball Losses O’Ball 2007

$70,000

O’Ball 2009

O’Ball 2010

$9,000

$12,000

On Dit Magazine

|

Features

11

I

, like many people I know, used bisexuality as a stepping stone en route to coming out.

The term gave me the freedom to experiment sexually, allowing me to discover who I actually am. Coming out is not an easy process for anyone, and everyone’s experience varies considerably. The product of an Irish Catholic family, I was readily schooled in the ‘proper’ ways to conduct oneself…every Friday at 1pm during my entire schooling life. Expressions of sexuality – any sexuality – never figured into this equation. Fast-forward a couple of years and I’m a music student at Adelaide Uni. Jazz students are renown for being slightly offcentre, so when a friend admits that, upon our

first meeting, she suspected I was bisexual, I took it with a grain of salt. I wasn’t, of course, but I didn’t care that people thought I might be – bisexuality was garnering more exposure in mainstream media and it was becoming more and more acceptable for people to express their sexuality on their own terms. It was cool and edgy to transgress the line, and I was happy to be seen to be doing that. When I finally began to understand who I actually was around the age of 21, I realised that I was not bisexual - I was gay and bisexuality was a joke. Something people used to avoid scrutiny whilst they figured it out. I definitely batted for the opposing team, and I was not ashamed

Illustrations by Daniel Brookes

On Dit Magazine

12

of it anymore.

That attitude never really changed and, until recently I didn’t believe that bisexuality actually existed. I thought self-identified bisexuals were ambivalent and indecisive – greedy even. In fact, this opinion is common amongst the greater queer community, where bisexuality is readily marginalised, openly ridiculed, repeatedly overlooked, or understood to be a combination of hetero- and homosexuality without maintaining a unique identity of its own.1 Having since met two very strongly opinionated bisexual women, my opinions on the subject have completely changed. Whilst I find it most disconcerting that the queer community that I belong to dismisses the term ‘bisexual’ as being less legitimate than the other myriad of terms we distinguish our ourselves by, I find it even more compelling that the media are so blatantly exploiting this form of (female) sexuality for mass entertainment, and that I once bought into it.

It’s no secret that every form of media is saturated with representations of femine physicalities and sexuality – it’s what sells magazines and movies. For Gen-Z, getting bombarded with images of sexualised female forms comes with the territory - so much so that we’ve almost become immune to seeing them on a daily basis. A relatively new phe-

|

Features

nomenon is the emergence of the female ”fauxbisexual” and I, for one, am fascintated by this media appropriation of a queer sexuality. Now, I’m not talking about those late night commercials advertising mobile downloads where Lucy and Rachel want you to join them in the spa using your mobile phone and imagination. Those girls are obviously (badly) acting out a fantasy.

I’m talking about the queering of traditional heterosexual identities to enhance someone’s star persona, which, when you think about it, is something that is happening a lot nowadays.

And we allow it to happen.

I suppose sexual exploitation shouldn’t be such a shock to someone of my generation, but in the case of faux-bisexuality, I continue to be stunned by its overt appropriation by the media for the purposes of enhancing a star’s persona. Remember the furore surrounding the 2003 MTV Video Awards kiss between Madonna and Britney Spears?2 Although arguably the kiss between Madonna and Christina was more natural and hotter (and apparently more forgettable) the kiss between the two hottest music star’s of that year made headlines around the world. And because they were both ‘straight,’ it was okay, right? Um, no. This was not a moment of genuine trangression of respective female sexualities – it was a stunt, and we lapped it up. Put simply, this was the

On Dit Magazine

pure objectification of two women whilst they displayed a ‘legitimate’ sexuality for our pleasure - Laura Mulvey would have had a field day.

Contrast this with public furore following US Idol Runner-Up Adam Lambert’s similar actions at the 2009 American Music Awards3 – since when did it become okay to display female bisexuality over male bisexuality? And why do we, as females, allow our sexulaity to be hypocritcailly exploited in such fashion?

More disturbing than merely the objectification of women is the way in which fauxbisexuality renders true bisexuality an undermining caricature of a genuine sexuality. I could list a myriad of stars that appropriated bisexual signifiers to enhance their career, with notables Angelina Jolie and Drew Barrymore subverting this sub-text into almost every movie they make. However, one star takes the cake this year - Katy Perry, I’m looking firmly at you. ‘I Kissed A Girl’ was the ‘infectious, bi-curious pop nugget’ (to quote Rolling Stone) released onto Australian radio almost two years ago now, and Perry carefully crafted her image to suggest that she may indeed be bisexual – just enough for lesbians to lap up the song, for gay boys to laud her dress sense

|

Features

and for mainstream radio to jump on board. In interviews she talked of early teenage crushes on girls, thus adding weight to the song and allowing the media to explore bisexuality without offence. But was this honestly done with any integrity? Was this an ‘artist’ truly representing herself through music, or was it a carefully crafted image designed to sell records?

The jury is still out.

We are constantly fed a message that it is okay for two females to hook into each other in public – girls get free drinks, guys get a kick out of it. Granted, the emergence of faux-bisexuality has given this generation the freedom to explore their sexuality without (too much) fear of recourse, but at what cost? Not only does faux-bisexuality permit even greater exploitation of women on a sexual level, it also undermines legitimate sexuality in the process. So a challenge for the females of my generation for the new year - how about a display of public sexuality for the sake of mak- 13 ing it visible and challenging the norms we’re presented with instead of this act of acquiescence? Kiss someone because you want to kiss them, not because it will pay for your next gin and tonic.

about the writer

Kim Dowling is an International Studies graduate who likes pina coladas and getting caught in the rain. No, really.

On Dit Magazine

|

Features

Beer & Fruit Loops.

Dr. George Ujvary on beer and food matching.

T 14

he 2010 academic year is now well and truly underway. Whether you have just started your first year or are a seasoned veteran, it is likely that, by this stage, many of you will have made the serious decision to have a beer or two, or three. As a discerning beer drinker myself, I feel obliged to provide you with a guide to food and beer which will not only help you in the coolness stakes but will also lead to more pleasant beer drinking experiences both on and off campus.

Whilst there is a plethora of information about matching food and wine, scarcely do we hear advice on which pint to pair with our plate.

There are firstly a couple of general rules that may help you decide on which of the amber nectars you will drink with your meal: - Heavy food, heavy beer. Light food, light beer.

- Darker beers are analogous to red wine and therefore go with red meat and heavier dishes, while pale beers are analogous to white wine and go with white meat and lighter dishes.

- Light beers go well with spicy food.

- ‘Hoppy’ beers are good for cutting through rich and fatty foods.

- Of course, there are always exceptions to the rules!

For example, with grilled chicken or fish, you would do well to choose a nice lager, light ale or even a pilsner such as a Little Creatures Pilsener. And the same beers would go well

with hot and spicy foods. Whether you cook your own, head to your local pub or, like me, appreciate the convenience of Asian take away to get your chili hit, the gastronomical bliss of washing down a vindaloo with a pint of Kingfisher is unbeatable.

If you are eating a heartier meal such as roast lamb, a beet stroganoff or Lancashire hotpot, I’d opt for something a little heavier such as a pale ale, a brown ale or porter whose fuller flavours complement meat beautifully.

My choice here would be a Coopers Vintage or Gentlemen’s Pale Ale. The other options to accompany warming winter meals like stews or Bangers ‘n’ Mash are heavy stouts or porters. Here you could go for a Brew Boys Ace of Spades Stout to obtain that nice rosy afterglow.

Heavy beers such as stout also go down nicely with rich desserts like chocolate fudge cake and sticky toffee pudding.

With exceptions to every rule, choosing a contrasting beer can also work well. Whilst most people like to drink champagne with oysters, a dozen oysters can be washed down perfectly with a pint of Guinness. Similarly, whilst the rules above state that red meat suits a heavier beer, I can think of nothing better on a hot summer’s day than a nice cold bottle of lager to wash down a piece of steak.

Another consideration is the ethnicity of the food. A plate of steamed mussels is paired perfectly with a Belgian pilsner, and a plate of Singapore crab wouldn’t be the same without a few cans of Tiger. Therefore, it can some-

Photograph by George Ujvary

On Dit Magazine

times be useful to match ‘like with like’ and pair a particular dish with a beer of the same ethnicity.

Beer with breakfast. Everyone’s been to a champagne breakfast but how many of you can say that you have been to a beer breakfast?

Well don’t worry again, because for breakfast, beer is still your friend. If bacon and eggs is your favourite, I would suggest a bottle of Corona with a wedge of lemon to cut through that tasty fat. I would not, however, recommend beer with cereal and can personally confirm that lager served with Froot Loops is revolting!

Furthermore, as students, you may not

|

Features

always be ‘in the money’ and at some point in time, beans on toast will be your meal of choice. But there are beers for such occasions too. For beans on toast, I would recommend the student’s beer of choice, Coopers Pale Ale. Ultimately, the rules listed here are merely guidelines. If you strongly feel that a certain beer goes with a certain food, then stick with what works for you. However, if you are spoilt for choice, using these recommendations will lead to a pleasant dining experience and give you that desired ‘beer connoisseur’ status amongst your friends.

about the writer

Dr. George Ujvary has recently completed a Le Cordon Bleu MA in Gastronomy. He is the Managing Director of Olga's Fine Foods, and blogs at www.foodologist.com 15

On Dit Magazine

Gleaming The Cube.

Skate photography and portraiture

by Andre Castellucci.

|

Photo Essay

" You can’t take skateboarding photos unless you skate. Really. If you don't skate, you just won't know what to look for, and your timing and composition will end up all off. Looking at a skate mag, you’ll find they use at least three flashes in a photo to freeze the action. Skate photographers end up basically setting up miniature studios on location. "

On Dit Magazine

|

Photo Essay

On Dit Magazine

18

|

Features

Chris Molloy There’s this customer at the supermarket I work at we call crazy no shoes ('cause he’s crazy and lacks footwear). He likes to tell me about Jesus and say that we are all brothers under the lord. Turns out he will also refuse to be served by anyone who is too fat, or, as he puts it, looks like one of those 'promiscuous girls'.

Margaret Lloyd I have way too many from [a popular Adelaide pancake establishment]. One time, a metal baine-marie fell on my head, and I started writing numbers instead of letters, and they still wouldn't let me go home. Another time, I cleaned up explosive diarrhea. It was everywhere: floor, walls, cistern. Not in the bowl, though.

Holly Ritson I got employed by a catering company over the summer, worked a couple of events, and then got an email from my boss asking if I'd like to do some topless waiting on the side with his other company...

Anna Ficek When I was working in a cafe that served breakfast untill midday, I put through an order for a breakfast a few minutes after midday and the chef got pissed off and threw a frying pan at me (it missed, thankfully).

Mark Jessop At the supermarket I work at, I was once filling the freezer, and overheard a father telling his crying daughter that if she didn't stop, I would put her in the freezer. The kid looked at me fearfully then ran away. I was mortified.

Samantha Vodic I used to work at a place where telephone threats were pretty common. One of our more notorious callers got arrested (apparently he got sick of just making threats and decided to carry one out). Later we recieved an apology letter from jail. He was very sorry.

Seb Tonkin Was once on the phone for 15 minutes with a customer who wanted to know every detail of the book he had ordered – page numbers, specific edition, etc – as well as all the details for the previous edition that we didn't have in stock, so he could make sure he was getting the right one. The book? "Dealing With Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder".

19

On Dit Magazine

|

Features

20

Illustration by Ian Houghton (www.ankhou.com)

On Dit Magazine

|

Features

21

B

reasts are funny, beautiful, weird, sexy.

My breasts used to be quite large, but as I’m typing this, my arms aren’t bumping into them, my back isn’t weighed down by them, and people aren’t staring at them.

About a month ago, I had breast reduction surgery. I’m going to detail the surgery and the recovery process, and cover a small amount of philosophy about accepting your body.

I’ll try not to whinge too much, but I can’t guarantee that, as I am still

“sloughing” (I will explain further, oh boy, it’s gross) and taking Oxycodon (see: hillbilly heroin).

I had many qualms about changing my breasts.

I used to think that it would be an act of hate towards my body. How massively flawed I must be, if I can’t accept myself for who I am.

But for me, having large breasts was getting in the way. Despite my frame (I have a little bit of chub, but I’m a size 10), I couldn’t fit into dresses. I couldn’t buy

On Dit Magazine

22

bras that fit, except at specialty stores where they cost upwards of $150 (10Gs will do that). I couldn’t run without hurting my chest. In summer, my breasts would sweat and chafe. Taking off my bra to shower left my ridiculously pendulous breasts hanging, pulling at my skin, hurting my neck. Reduction was an act of love for me: I don’t like it, I’m going to change it, and live a nicer life.

Most of my thoughts centred around what having new, little breasts would be like. I imagined jogging and buying $15 bras. I gave little thought to the actual surgery, or the recovery.

It’s actually a big deal. I didn’t realise how disgusting it would be, or how much time it would take for me to heal.

My surgeon worked with the LeJour method, which is rather modern and creates fewer scars. The surgery takes a few hours, and then the patient should stay in hospital for three or four nights. I ended up staying for two, because I was fine, but also because hospital is boring as hell. Over the next week, the patient should be bedridden except for the least taxing of tasks, and then over the next six months, the wounds gradually heal.

I had never been admitted to hospital before, so this was a shiny new thing to me. As soon as my clothes were stored away and I was wearing only a flimsy gown, paper slippers and a dashing shower cap, I was a Patient. I was part and parcel of the hospital. Because of the lack of bra, my breasts were hurting, and they looked so large beneath the gown that I

|

Features

just wanted them gone. I felt no attachment to them, no love for them.

I had a general anaesthetic, which I’ve never had before. It was quite nice, like falling asleep. Plus they put a warm blanket on you.

The surgery (a similar surgery is on YouTube, if you care to gross yourself out) starts with a ‘keyhole’ cut. The skin is peeled off from inside this shape, and excess breast tissue is sliced up and removed. At this point there is a lot of blood and fat around the place. The nipple stays attached, but is lifted up to fit into the circle in the keyhole. The surgeon then stitches around the areola, and vertically down the breast. Voila.

I woke up in a complete daze. I was really, really itchy, all over. The night was spent being utterly confused. I wasn’t sure if I’d had my surgery or not, which sounds stupid, but it’s true. I couldn’t move. My chest was covered in dressings, which were holding my breasts in place. A tube came out of each breast, each leading to a draining bag full of my excess blood. I was being fed through an IV tube in my hand. I had a little oxygen tube in my nose.

I needed to scratch my face, but above all, I needed to pee.

The nurses woke me up every couple of hours to take my blood pressure and feed me painkillers. This went on for a boring amount of time, probably about fifteen hours. By then I developed some coherency and was able to ask the nurses to help me to the bathroom. I’d like to say that using a toilet made me feel bet-

It was a weird kind of joy, looking down at puckered, bloody, bruised, stitched, uneven breasts and thinking, “YES! They’re tiny!”

On Dit Magazine

ter, but looking at myself in the mirror over the sink disgusted me: my hair was sweaty, my skin greyish, my expression slack. I had to carry my sacks of blood around with me. One of the drainage tubes was on a raw nerve, and kept pressing against it.

The second day in hospital was the day for visitors – Mum, Sarah, my aunty and uncle, Joseph – and I felt bad for being dull and just lying there. I would perk up for about ten minutes and then crash again. The nurses wouldn’t answer the fucking buzzer, so Sarah helped me to the bathroom. There’s nothing quite as loving as holding your best friend’s blood sacks while she urinates. Thanks, dude.

On the third day, the nurse from my surgery came to take off my dressings. I could have cried. It was a weird kind of joy, looking down at puckered, bloody, bruised, stitched, uneven breasts and thinking, “YES! They’re tiny!” Right then I couldn’t really judge how they were doing, but the nurse assured me that they looked perfectly fine.

I felt better and went home, still on tonnes of painkillers, and still somewhat bandaged up.

When it was time to change the dressings, I got a good look at myself, standing up in front of a full-length mirror. I was yellow, red, blue and purple, and the stitch line was a gross, jagged black, covered in my dried blood. My breasts, now only a D cup, were so hard that they stood up and out, a bit like pornstar boobs. The reason that they were so hard was a combination of swelling and fat

|

Features

necrosis. When the breast is cut open and reattached, some fat is cut off from its blood supply, and dies. At the nurse’s insistence, I massaged them, and watched the dead fat ooze out through the scar line. It looked like cooking oil.

The gross stuff doesn’t end there, but I promise that this has a happy ending. Now that some time has passed, my breasts have gone quite soft, and only have the occasional pocket of fat necrosis. The stitches are now lying flat, creating a smooth line around my areola and down my breasts – that is, until the end of the line, where there is some slough. Slough is dead, wet skin. I have to rub it with Betadine and wait for it to flake off. Below that, there is a small lobe of skin under each of my breasts – about the size of an earlobe, it consists of excess skin and will heal flat over the next few months. They kind of freak me out, so I avoid looking at the lobes.

Here is my happy ending: I have small breasts. They fit onto my body shape quite nat- 23 urally. My neck and back are hurting temporarily as I am standing up straight for the first time. About an inch and a half under my lobes, far below my new breasts, is the line where my old bras used to sit. That bit of skin feels babylike and wonderful. I am all new. My clothes fit much better, and people don’t stare at me as I walk down the street. When I’m introduced to new people, there is no more quick eye-flicker down to my chest. I am heartily looking forward to being fully recovered, when I can finally lift heavy things and exercise. These few months will be disgusting and inconvenient, but for me, the reward at the end is completely worthwhile.

On Dit Magazine

|

Culture

Covered.

(Our music writers analyse their favourite record covers).

24

The Ramones - Ramones The Saints - (I'm) Stranded Each record was a contemporary of the other and ushered the world into a fast-paced two or three years of the punk whirlwind. The Ramones’ Ramones, and the Saints’ (I’m) Stranded. Both bands were unaware of each other whilst simultaneously, through their love of Stooges-style minimalism, they created the blue print for the shape of punk to come. Both album covers are quite simple, with band members standing side by side against a decaying urban backdrop. The Saints in colour, and the Ramones famously in black and white. What intrigues me about the covers is their similarities. It starts asking questions within my mind about universal consciousness, and why two bands on opposite sides of the world can do the same thing at the same time with the same style.

- Alexander Gordon-Smith

On Dit Magazine

|

Culture

The White Stripes – Elephant To me, a good album cover tells as much of a story as the music sealed within. This is the cover of my favourite album: Elephant by the White Stripes. It is an image that both works absolutely within the artistic constraints imposed by Jack White and smashes them. There are the colours, that famous red, white and black combination used from everything to Coca-Cola to the Third Reich. There’s the amplifier (with three stripes of light, referencing Jack’s favourite number), a nod to the pre1960s recording techniques used by the group at the tiny Toe Rag studios in England. Jack holding the cricket bat, a nod to the album’s place of recording, and the sweat suit alluding to his later move to Nashville. The rope around Meg’s ankle and the dress she’s wearing, nods to the couple’s past marriage. The skull in the background, casting a pall of death amongst it. Best of all? Try and picture the negative space in the cover; imagine all the objects as outlines. You might notice it’s the silhouette of an elephant’s head (tip: the cricket bat is the right tusk).

- Mateo Szlapek-Sewillo

25

Joy Division – Unknown Pleasures The story of Joy Division is well-known. The band released two albums of echoey, despairing post-punk at the turn of the ‘80s, and quickly gained critical props – plus a reputation for the pained lyrics, on-stage epileptic fits, and eventual suicide of singer Ian Curtis. Curtis’s suicide made for instant voyeurs’ legend and changed forever the perception of Joy Division’s songs, some of which had been penned just months before. This cover, too, demanded re-examination. What at first glance might look like a stylised mountain range is, in fact, a graph of 100 successive radio waves from a pulsar (basically an interstellar lighthouse). It seems, with the benefit of hindsight, chillingly appropriate. Those mysterious white lines, dwarfed there in an expanse of black, represent pulses beamed from somewhere impossibly cold and impossibly distant, reaching us 2000 years later. Unknown pleasures indeed.

- Seb Tonkin

On Dit Magazine

|

Culture

Wonder?

Walter Marsh on the failure of the 2009 Australian Music Prize.

C 26

ontroversy! Cynicism! “Meh!” This is what the folks behind the 2009 Australian Music Prize (AMP) were met with when in March they announced this year’s winner, former Idol contestant and teenage laundromat fan Lisa Mitchell. The internet was abuzz with voices both lambasting and defending the decision, along with a great deal of eye rolling as many sat back to watch the award mount Fonzie’s motorcycle and jump that shark.

Born in 2005, the Australian Music Prize was to be an independent voice for rewarding truly worthwhile Australian music irrespective of mainstream popularity, sales and trends. With a judging panel composed of 27 musicians, retailers and switched-on music critic types, the program and it’s $30,000 main prize was to be the credible, grassroots antidote to the overblown record label-run ARIAs, whose decisions spin wildly single artist blow-outs (i.e. Jet, Gabriella Cilmi) to puzzling grabs at relevancy (Gotye winning best male artist for a stop-gap remix album, a year and a half after his widely acclaimed Like Drawing Blood was released).

So what happened to you, AMP? Some cynics point to the sheer calculation of it all. After an initial run of awards exclusively dominated by male rock groups (The Drones, The Mess Hall, and Eddie Current Suppression Ring), the judging panel simply had to give the prize to a) something female; and b) something

far removed from a rock band. This left them with two choices from the final nominees: Lisa Mitchell and Sarah Blasko. Blasko’s As Day Follows Night is widely regarded as the cohesive peak of one Australia’s most celebrated contemporary artists. Mitchell’s Wonder, with all its radio hits, was a creaky, naïve folk-pop record painstakingly engineered to sound that way over two years in the shiniest of London Studios with the producer of the Killers.

Critics - well, the critics on the panel - held Blasko aloft on their end of year best-of lists.

Lisa Mitchell’s twee, folk-pop debut was nowhere to be seen. This brings us to the next point of derision: the Prize’s aspiration to stand out. Blasko, an easily acceptable, if safe, winner had already received Triple J’s creatively titled J Award, and a Best Female Artist ARIA. For the AMP to merely ratify and reiterate the consensus of those crusty dinosaurs would nullify its very purpose as the foremost alternative avenue of recognition. Chris Johnston, AMP patron and ex-judge, rightly pointed out that in this make or break fifth year, the panel were damned if they did or didn’t.

My main quibble however, is that for an emerging artist in the increasingly crowded world of Australian music, money is very important. To say that it isn’t is to say you are an idiot. Setting up a MySpace and home recording can only get you so far. Recording and mastering costs money, pressing costs money,

On Dit Magazine

|

Culture

For an emerging artist in the increasingly crowded world of Australian music, money is very important. Recording and mastering costs money, pressing costs money.

Which is why this award going to an act like Lisa Mitchell, young as she is, is such a waste.

and touring may never subsidise itself. A label or distributor might pick you up once you reach a certain level, but to reach that level requires a long, hard slog and a lot of money haemorrhaged from your day job(s).

Which is why this award going to an act like Lisa Mitchell, young as she is, seems a waste.

Alongside all the other conditions mentioned above, the fact that the $30,000 kitty went to an internationally signed major-label artist is a shame. That money probably, definitely, just gave that awful dying machine a bit more loose change with which to further package and

change Mitchell as an artist, funding increasingly stylised video clips with dance choreography (!) totally at odds with the aesthetic of her award-winning album. When compared to the huge impact that this sum would have on artists like, for example, Kid Sam, part of independent artist run label collective Two Bright Lakes with deep roots in the Melbourne scene across a dozen bands, I find it pretty sad.

Note: In all honesty I really quite enjoyed ‘Wonder’. But to say it was the single most profound artistic statement released by an Australian in 2009 is a bit much.

Photograph by Craig Cullum (www.flickr.com/craigcullum)

27

On Dit Magazine

Primer: Your Introduction to the Modern World

28

‘When can we expect a pro-Western, probusiness government in Iran?’ asks a US government official in the film Syriana. Today, that same question is being asked by anxious diplomats the world over. Iran’s nuclear aspirations, domestic repression, and vast oil reserves pose problems for both Western powers and Iran’s Arab neighbours. The stigma which surrounds Iran - that it is a backward nation, run by basket-case ideologues - has perpetuated a string of diplomatic failures. The Western powers’ approach to Iran needs an overhaul, and fast. Misinformation about Iran is rife and, consequently, the West needs to go “back to school.”

Complexity and confusion: the nature of the Iranian state Iran’s internal workings are amongst the most complex in the international system. Contemporary Iran was born of the Islamic Revolution

of 1979, which acted as the precursor for the formation of the Islamic Republic of Iran via referendum. Following the June 2009 presidential election, which many feel was illegitimate, Iran has enacted a series of harsh, repressive measures Moreover, the true keepers of power in the Iranian state are not the fragmented clergy, nor President Ahmadinejad, but the Revolutionary Guard. Formed as a vigilante organisation to cement Ayatollah Khomeini’s hold over Iran, the Revolutionary Guard were later integrated with the military following the Iran-Iraq War of 1980-1988. The Revolutionary Guard is a multifaceted and extremely influential organisation, with roughly $12 billion in assets and a majority stake in over a hundred companies. It also has a strong presence in government; President Ahmadinejad is a former Revolutionary Guardsman, as is a majority of the Iranian parliament. Following the June elections, the Revolutionary Guard and its plain-clothes sub-unit (baseej)

On Dit Magazine

29

have gained further influence, including powers of arrest.

Of rigged elections and protestors Due to the Revolutionary Guard’s tight grip on Iran’s political structure, the struggle for regime change in Iran is more challenging than most Western commentators acknowledge.

The nationwide protest movement (known as the Green Movement) which emerged from the disputed outcome of the June 2009 election has rocked the regime, but has has yet to effect any changes to Iran’s political structure. This is not to say the Green Movement is failing, but with no independent intelligence emerging from Iran, it is difficult to gauge how effective the Movement has been. As such, Western hopes for a swift toppling of the regime, echoing the implosion of the Soviet Union, may not

match the reality of the situation. Nonetheless, the continuing protests are a constant reminder of the crisis of legitimacy the Iranian leadership faces.

Black gold, Silkworm missiles, and an unstable neighbourhood Iran is a major player in global energy security. Today, 66 per cent of the world’s known oil reserves lie in the Middle East. By 2020, that proportion will have grown to 83 per cent.

Iran is blessed with roughly 10 per cent of the world’s known oil reserves and produces around 2.7 million barrels per day. Moreover, Iran controls the island of Abu Masa, through which some 17 million barrels of oil, travel each day. Abu Masa is equipped with Silkworm antiship missiles, easily capable of scuttling commercial tankers. As such, Iran has the poten-

Illustration by Mike Kline (www.flickr.com/mikekline)

On Dit Magazine

tial to control almost 20 million barrels of oil per day; or 23 per cent of daily global demand.

Iran, therefore, holds a salient stake in global energy markets. Rob Diamond, head of Securing America’s Future Energy (SAFE) notes that if Iran was to suspend its sovereign oil production of 2.7 million barrels, it would “result in tremendous national security and economic problems” for America. Consider the calamity of stopping 17 million barrels from reaching global energy markets. Tehran stares down Washington because it can afford to.

The nuclear question

30

Iran’s nuclear ambitions have caused headaches for its neighbours and Western nations since the 1980s. With no existing commercial nuclear reactors in Iran, analysts’ best guess (about what?) is that Iranian seeks a nuclear weapon in order to deter either direct invasion by the United States or an Israeli bombing campaign. Although the intelligence on Iran’s nuclear program is murky, the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) suspects that Iran has enriched uranium to 5 per cent, the most difficult step in progressing toward weapons-grade enrichment. Iran’s nuclear program has, however, run into technical obstacles, including a deficiency in uranium ore.

For the moment at least, these technical hiccups keep a nuclear-armed Iran at bay.

Nightmare scenario: a nuclear stalemate?

lion Muslims live within Israel’s borders. To assume that an Iranian nuclear weapon would be used as anything other than a deterrent is tantamount to claiming that the Iranian leadership is insane enough to commit two simultaneous genocides. It is more likely that the situation in the Middle East would resemble the state of affairs between India and Pakistan: a nuclear stalemate.

Deft moves, not a strong arm The Iranian question has the potential to be solved without conflict or calamity. A former French ambassador to Iran, François Nicollaud, asserts that Iran will not ‘surrender’ if more pressure is applied to it. Instead, the regime is more likely to grit its teeth and strengthen its resolve to defy the West. It is for this reason that imposing crippling economic sanctions or launching a pre-emptive military strike will not bear fruit. Instead, Western nations should explore innovative solutions which add to the obstacles Iran’s nuclear program faces.

For instance, by ending the sale of uranium ore and high-strength steel to Iran, in addition to rigorous inspections of Iranian ships at foreign ports, the international community could exacerbate Iran’s current technical difficulties in a non-confrontational manner. Above all, patience is wise. Iran’s economy is weak; high unemployment and double-digit inflation do more damage than Security Council resolutions.

Chess in the Middle East

Suppose that Iran acquires a nuclear weapon.

Its nearest nuclear-armed neighbour is Israel, with between 100 to 200 warheads, the majority in submarines. Although negative stereotypes of Iran permeate Western media, the Iranian leadership is not foolish enough to launch a strike against Israel because to do so would mean (I call bullshit on the idea of “missile defence.”) Iran being obliterated in an Israeli second strike. Moreover, some 1.5 mil-

Iran’s dubious intentions are rightly cause for concern to leaders in the region, and likewise a nuclear-armed Iran is not in the best interest of regional security. Nonetheless, patience and accommodation are paramount. Scary enough as it is, if we live in a world with a nuclear-armed North Korea and nuclear-armed Pakistan, we can accommodate a nucleararmed Iran too.

On Dit Magazine

|

Culture

Elizabeth Flux Something is missing.

She has her stockings, and her black knee length dress.

The oiled silk scarf is tied around her hair, and her shoes are on. Still, it feels wrong, indecent.

Quick mental scan. Belt. Right. Tying it around her waist, she is finally ready to head out.

Today? This girl would probably be heading out to town, or meeting a friend for coffee. However, our girl is from 1900, and she’s about to plunge herself into the sea.

Oh don’t worry. Despite the woollen dress and bloomers, she won’t drown. Probably.

There’s a rope around her middle, attached to a wagon in the shallows, all set to reel her in if the water tries to take her down.

This could have been you.

So what’s changed? Why is it now okay to head down Jetty Road, essentially wearing the extroverted sister of underwear, when 100 years ago a woman could be arrested for showing her bare legs in public?

“Exposed! The story of swimwear”, is a touring exhibition currently housed at the South Australian Maritime Museum.

Sprawled over two floors, it showcases the evolution of swimwear from the conservative woollen tunics and bloomers of the late 19th century, up to what you see today. Plus a few things you might be seeing tomorrow, such as vitamin-releasing budgie smugglers.

However, I don’t think we’ll get into that.

I spoke to Lindl Lawton, senior curator of

Illustrations by Louise Vodic

31

On Dit Magazine

32

the South Australian Maritime Museum, about scandal, midriffs, budgie smugglers, and the burquini.

“Swimwear, particularly women’s swimwear, affords a fascinating glimpse into the complexity of the human psyche and our own society. Its history encompasses topics as diverse as identity, feminism, flesh, and femininity.” says Lawton.

Over the past century there has been a battle between “public decency” and freedom of choice and expression. If personified, I think it would be as an older couple. The woman, with her tight bun and pince-nez, is “public decency”. Her heyday was in the early 20th century.

Now, along with necklines and hems, her standards have lowered and her tolerance has been raised. Her husband is “freedom of choice”, a somewhat suppressed gentleman complete with Hawaiian shirt and a cheery grin.

The changing face of swimwear seems to be a reflection on both what society finds desirable about the female form, and what one can get away with doing and showing in public.

Ms Lawton agreed, explaining: “Legs and ankles were once seen as one of the most titillating parts of a body. Swimmer Annette Kellerman was arrested in Boston in 1907 for wearing a one piece male swimsuit that exposed her stockingless legs.”

The charges were dropped, and Kellerman became an icon, promoting the practicality of one-piece swimsuits, and advocating that the key to a sculpted body without the aid of corsets and drapery was swimming for exercise rather than recreation.

In 1908, she was declared “the perfect woman” after having her measurements compared to a myriad of women and the Venus de Milo.

Ms Lawton states “I am a great believer

|

Culture

in the idea that what you cover up becomes the focus of titillation (much like the Victorians and their famously sheathed table legs). The titillation (excuse the pun) of a breast is enhanced more by a well structured D cup than by having it swinging naked in the sun.”

This double standard in society is well demonstrated; whilst Mrs “public decency” decried the growing popularity of the leg baring onepiece, her husband was off ogling Kellerman in 1916’s “A Daughter of the Gods”, featuring cinema’s first semi-nude scene.

Public tastes changed; by the 1930s, legs were old hat and ankles were pfft. With the sudden craze for sunbathing, backlines plunged, and designers took to the increasingly shortening one-piece with scissors.

By the 1940s, elastic and the invention of

On Dit Magazine

nylon meant that swimwear could now be more figure hugging, and even strapless. After designer Margie Fellegi’s ‘peek-a-boo’ swimsuit revealed the female midriff for the first time, the bikini was inevitable.

Named for Bikini Atoll where the atomic bomb was tested, in 1946, designer Louis Réard hired a dancer to showcase his creation, as models refused to wear something that wouldn’t cover the navel.

Our couple split apart, with Sir going to Hollywood. The new look symbolised youth, beauty and a freedom of expression previously absent. Beach movies were a go, and with the 1950s ideal of a large bust over a pinched in waist, stars like Jayne Mansfield, Marilyn Monroe, Brigitte Bardot and original Bond girl Ursula Andress + bikinis = box office win.

However, at the same time Madam was out in force at the beaches, making all but the most daring women feel like the girl from “Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini”.

Obviously she failed. Personally I think she used up all her energy putting the kibosh on Rudi Gernreich’s 1964 “monokini”. His “social statement about freedom”, was, essentially, a topless swimsuit. Only 3000 were sold, and the bulk of those were never seen in public.

I guess being denounced by the Vatican didn’t really help.

Overall I think that the couple has reconciled, and what we have now is equilibrium between what one wants to wear and what “public decency” will allow.

Though at first glance it may seem that we have actually regressed in terms of how conservative swimwear is, Ms Lawton cites “the full length ‘burquini’ [which] may be seen as a conservative step, but like Annette Keller-

|

Culture

33

man’s full body suit, it is actually one of the most revolutionary and liberating contemporary innovations in swimwear” allowing Muslim women to swim and participate in aquatic sports “unimpeded by heavy clothing”.

She goes on to say that “there is now a vast diversity of choices in swimwear for women of all ages and body shapes. I don’t think one piece ever went out of fashion although it may have diminished in size in response to the popularity of the bikini...The ‘more is more’ philosophy probably has as much to do with skin cancer awareness and the health benefits of covering up. It’s a complex question.”

Who knows? Maybe we should prepare ourselves for the return of the bathing wagon.

about the writer

Elizabeth Flux is a third year medical student who spends her time drinking copious amounts of tea, berating tailgaters, debating whether Wolverine’s claws retract past his wrists, and listening out for the Tardis. Her written works can be seen in such prestigious publications as “Facebook “, and her blog, which she began back when it was ‘cool’.

On Dit Magazine

|

Culture

The not-so-great cost of war.

Jeremy Sims, director of Beneath Hill 60, speaks to Anders Wotzke

T 34

he average Hollywood war film costs around $100 million to churn out, yet for the upcoming Australian World War I epic Beneath Hill 60, director Jeremy Sims had less than a tenth of that to work with. And he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“I wouldn’t have actually wanted any more money,” says the 54 year-old actor-turned-director, defending the film’s (relatively) shoestring budget of just $9.6 million. To put it in perspective, that’s a million short of what it cost to shoot the Omaha beach scene in Saving Private Ryan.

Unless your name is Baz Luhrmann, the unfortunate reality is that Australian filmmakers seldom get anything close to a Hollywood budget, Beneath Hill 60 being one of the more sizable productions to come out of our struggling film industry. But a surplus of cash, argues Sims, isn’t the making of a great movie. “How many times have you gone and seen a Hollywood film and thought ‘Oh god, in the last half hour alone they’ve spent $100 million… and I was bored.’”

He’s got a point. Far too many big-budget blockbusters nowadays adhere to what I like to call the ‘Michael Bay mantra’, operating under the Transformers director’s pretence that bigger is better. Of course, that logic is complete hogwash. The gripping Iraq war film The Hurt Locker proved as much when it went on to win six Oscars, including Best Picture, at this year’s Academy Awards, repeatedly beating the sci-fi epic Avatar to the podium. While Av-

atar cost more than $300 million to make and market ̶ a solid down payment on the Death Star ̶ The Hurt Locker cost a fraction of that at just $16 million.

With Beneath Hill 60, Sims and his Australian cast and crew have accomplished a similar feat. They’ve made an engaging war film that looks at least three times more expensive than it actually is, fuelled by an incredible true story that has remained largely untold for almost a century. The film stars Brendan Cowell (of television’s Love My Way) as Captain Oliver Woodward, one of 4,500 Australian miners tasked with tunnelling deep below enemy lines during the First World War. Woodward’s mission was to detonate an enormous explosive stockpile some 30 metres beneath Hill 60, a small but advantageous knoll held by the Germans along the Western Front in the flat plains of Flanders, Belgium. When it was eventually detonated on June 7th, 1917, along with 18 other mines rigged with explosives, the blast killed approximately 10,000 German soldiers and was heard as far away as London.

It went down in history books as the largest man made explosion the world had ever seen.

So why is it that most Australians know nothing about it?

“The reasons are, in fact, threefold,” begins Sims. “One is that we know very few facts from the Western Front generally, even those battles that happened above ground. The various battles that the Australians were involved in have suffered by comparison to the great

On Dit Magazine

Gallipoli. So we are just starting to look again at what went on in a place where five times as many people fought and five times as many Australian soldiers died.”

“The second reason was that the whole tunnelling company, and the activities that they were up to, were kept secret for most of the war. Combine that with the fact that the actual act of fighting the war underground was, to some degree, considered un-gentlemanly.

War was changing rapidly during this period and the idea of setting off bombs underneath the enemy without facing them was something that the British and other powers that be didn’t really want publicised.”

Sims, a first generation Australian of English descent, admits that making the film has been as much of an eye opening experience for him as he hopes it will be for moviegoers when it’s released on April 15th. “I had a great uncle who fought for the British infantry, but I don’t know much about that at all,” he says. “So my discovery of all of that has been a part of my journey as well.”

Beneath Hill 60 was originally going to be a

|

Culture

documentary based on the chance findings of 35 Queensland mine engineer Ross Thomas. While cleaning out his office, Thomas stumbled upon some old files relating to military mining and Woodward’s notable involvement in the June 7th demolitions. After tracking down Woodward’s descendants in Melbourne, he managed to obtain a copy of the miner’s war diary and love letters to his sweetheart-turned-wife Marjorie, played in the film by young Australian newcomer Bella Heathcote. When Thomas consulted Producer Bill Leimbach and screenwriter David Roach to make Woodward’s story into a documentary, they came to the conclusion that the only way they’d be able to do it justice and bring it to the widest audience possible was to make it into a feature film. Sims subsequently came on board as director after Liembach saw his directorial debut, the low budget thriller Last Train to Freo, and was impressed by how well he managed to build claustrophobic tension within the confines of a train carriage.

While things were starting to fall into place, they still had to address one major problem; a feature film costs a great deal more than a doc-

Still from the film'Beneath Hill 60', 2010.

On Dit Magazine

36

umentary to produce. It also didn’t help that they’d picked a subject involving two of the most notoriously expensive genres to make: the period film, which requires early 20th century costumes and sets, and the war film, which needs action scenes and pyrotechnics. Despite receiving assistance from a number of film funding bodies including Screen Queensland and Screen Australia, they still had less than $10 million to work with. So how on earth did they manage to pull it off ?

Sims doesn’t sugar-coat his answer. “There was a shitload of planning involved,” he says.

“I needed to be really prepared. The whole film was storyboarded and a large document was sent out to all the heads of department with every scene and every shot I was proposing to shoot. We shot six day weeks, so people just worked incredibly hard.”

Shooting the film locally in Queensland’s coastal city of Townsville also helped keep production costs down. “The one good thing about Townsville is that it’s incredibly flat,” says Sims. “Surprisingly, the typography is not all that dissimilar to Flanders. We found a property that we could build the trenches on, but you have to remember that 70% of the film takes place in tunnels underground. So the main dugouts were built on that property, but the actual tunnel system itself was built in a massive warehouse in a different part of Townsville.”

While the North Queensland landscape might be similar to that of Belgium, the sunny 35 degree days the region ‘enjoys’ all year round aren’t at all like the bitterly cold and torrentially wet conditions the soldiers were

|

Culture

forced to endure on the Western Front. To recreate the less-than hospitable setting for the cameras, the production team used an army of cherry pickers to block out the blistering sun and built an extensive sprinkler system into the ground to drench the soil. “When it was wet, it turned into mud and it looked exactly the same as Flanders mud,” says Sims. “I know that when we dug the backhoe in for the first time, and saw that it was clay, we were really, incredibly happy.”

Proud to play host to production and rich with a mining history of its own, the Townsville community did whatever they could to help Sims and his crew. “One of the local thirdgrade rugby teams came one day as part of their pre-season training and filled sandbags for us”, says Sims. “I think they filled about two thousand sandbags in total, which was fantastic. Just across the board we got support: scaffolding companies, cherry pickers and all sorts of things.”

It was only when asked what he would have done with an extra $10 million that Sims, for the first time throughout our 15-minute phone interview, was without an answer. “I really can’t imagine it to be honest,” he says.

“The limitations were what made the film. I certainly wouldn’t make it any longer. I think we would have got really indulgent, probably.

Limitations are the absolute lifeblood of creativity. That’s why three chords are all you need to make great blues.”

You can’t argue with that.

Beneath Hill 60 opened nationally on April 15th.

about the writer

Limping through his final year of University, Anders Wotzke’s studies took a severe hit in 2008 after he was diagnosed with chronic film addiction as a result of establishing the movie review website Cut Print Review (www.cutprintreview.com). He has since checked himself into rehab, but being surrounded by so many troubled movie stars has only caused his condition to deteriorate.

On On Dit Magazine

|

Campus

Campus!

Campus Issues

Marriage and Noodles March saw hundreds of University of Adelaide students take up the fight in two events co-ordinated and run by the Student Representative Council (SRC). As part of a nationwide protest initiated by the National Union of Students (NUS), it was a chance for all students to unite against student poverty and bring attention to the issue. The SRC first held a Noodle Day where large crowds packed the University Cloisters intent on spreading the word by way of the most unlikely and humble of weapons: the noodle.

The SRC and NUS argue that since students

can vote, go to war, or get married at 18, it does not make sense to not consider them fi- 37 nancially independent until they are 22. SRC President Ashleigh Lustica intended for the Noodle Day to achieve two objectives. Firstly, on a federal level, to put pressure on those in the big house calling the shots, and, on a campus level, to promote awareness and inform students of the recent changes to legislation passed in early March. While some of the students attended for no other reason than to eat noodles, many were willing to do their small bit (or is that bite?) for a big cause.

Following that, the SRC held a ‘Marriage of Convenience’, in demonstration of the lengths some students go to in order to be given the financial assistance required to live while studying. Under the legislation passed last year and enacted this April, a student cannot be classed as independent unless he or she is 22 or over (recently lowered from 24 or over by the Rudd Government), has earned $19,000 in a period of 18 months, can prove themselves emancipated from their parents, or are in ‘significant financial difficulty’. Aside from this small and exclusive list of requirements, you can also be

On Dit Magazine

38

considered independent if you become legally married. So that’s exactly what AUU President Fletcher O’Leary and NUS State President of Welfare Lavinia Emmett-Grey did. The couple had been in a long-term relationship, but saw this as a chance to celebrate not only their love, but also the increase in Fletcher’s Centrelink payments.

There was no sign of the expected student protest paraphernalia; large cardboard placards, repetitive ten-syllable chants, or the burning of one’s undergarments but the daring behind it generated much media and student interest. I spoke to Emmett-Grey, the bride, about the affect such an event may have in the public arena, to which she replied “Having been involved for many years, we needed something creative; an event that allowed students to engage without being intimidated.”

Last year, the SRC held several fake marriages on the lawns around the same theme.

An activist tactic that has been adopted in several other states over the previous few years, the fake marriages were a throwback to similar marriages for welfare documented in the 1970s (many organised through the pages of On Dit).

When asked if events like this have the ability to make a significant difference, most students were highly sceptical. One student commented that ‘it has to be better than doing nothing’, but was unsure of how much of an impact it would make. Generally, these events are viewed with the sort entrenched cynicism that students tend to view politics at all levels with.

This also brings us to a larger problem: the fact that students will always come from different socio-economic backgrounds. Despite the cry for improved financial equality amongst students, one has to be cautious the extra money won’t just make the rich students richer and the poorer ones slightly less poor.

There will always be the specific groups - internationals (who are ineligible for benefits), mature age students, and rural students - who,

|

Campus

more often than not, are doing it harder than their native Adelaide counterparts. As a rural student myself who has been through the significant financial stress of a complete life relocation, it is easy to see how there are groups who need clearly need the money more than those who still have Mum to make them tea after a long - or short - day of studying. Does a lower uniform age of independence address this distributive inequality? Or is the answer simply tweaking the current criteria to better address students in financial difficulty?

Throughout the remainder of the year, the NUS will be holding several more days of action designed to target their other prominent concerns in an election year: the quality of Universities and the student accommodation crisis. In an age of pessimism towards the power of protest, the NUS is still keen for students to get involved.

- Sarah Bown

Opinion

On Activism What comes to mind when you think of a student protest? Would you expect it to be a barbeque, noodles… or a wedding? Are student organisations stooping to new lows, or is this the type of publicity we need to make our voices heard?

Last week, a live musician had been booked on the Barr Smith lawns. Being a beautiful summer day, you may just have wandered down. You may not have been surprised to see student activism, but would you have been

On Dit Magazine

surprised to see it take the form of a soldier in uniform (yours truly), a judge complete with wig, and a tax man with profession displayed proudly on his briefcase? If you had stuck around, you would have seen Lavinia Emmett-Grey walk down the aisle to Star Wars theme music and, with Fletcher O’Leary, recite vows and, calling Kevin Rudd to witness, vow to study hard and live off Centrelink. Oh, and this was all done in the presence of a licensed celebrant.

If you had stopped to ask why, would it have been the regulations which keep thousands of students impoverished which resonated with you? Or would it have been the way we decided to protest against these regulations? We would have told you that when you turn 18 you can join the army, pay taxes and be sentence to jail. And yet Centrelink won’t recognise you as independent until your 22nd birthday, unless you can meet one of their bizarre criteria, such as getting married.

Fletcher O’Leary, the Adelaide University Union President and a personal friend, lives out of home. Juggling work and Uni has sometimes left him, like so many students, doing it rough. Completing the Centrelink paperwork just after signing his marriage certificate will now see him declared independent. He is already in a committed relationship with Lavinia and sharing a residence. So does a wedding ring really change how deserving he is of student benefits?

Most students would answer no to that question, but where to go from here is tricky.

HOW LONG DO YOU GIVE FLETCHER AND LAVINIA’S MARRIAGE? (41 votes, totes) Until four o'clock tomorrow arvo: annulment FTW 10% Until AdelaideNow stop paying attention 22% Until they finally get out of student politics (15-20 years) 63% Forever: it's TRUE LOVE, cynics 5% (Source: facebook.com/onditmagazine)

|

Campus

While criticism of current regulations is widespread, support for a reduced age of independence seems to be mixed. Since most students aren’t in a position either financially or in their relationship to get married, the most common way to be declared independent is to earn over $18,000 in 18 months. This often pushes students into taking a gap year, or having to go through their whole degree without government assistance. Those facing that decision are calling out for reform. However, many don’t feel that they’re entitled merely because of their age, but because of their hard work coupled with the struggles of independent living. Also, this would put students who graduate younger than 18 at a disadvantage.

Surely the government can produce criteria that actually recognise this hard work, not merely a student’s age or a decision that has no bearing on their studies. So did the format of the protest raise debate around the issue, or simply advertise one unconventional solu- 39 tion? Or just further questions regarding the event’s legitimacy?

Many students were happy to listen to our spiel and sign a pre-written letter to Julia Gillard. But by itself, that means almost nothing.

Were they more impressed with the issue at hand, or with the protest itself ? It has been met with both encouragement and criticism.

Student activism is essentially meaningless without coverage and publicity, but reports need to take it seriously before it can begin to affect change. In this case, hundreds of letters were posted to Julia Gillard, Federal Minister for Education, and the story was run on radio, television, and print.

Bringing Gillard’s attention to the plight many students face carries obvious advantages, but what worries me are the possible connotations of this protest being interpreted negatively in a broader context. Young people traditionally meet opposition and derision when promoting social reform. It’s hard enough to be taken seriously at all, let alone when the methods of protest are as uncon-

On Dit Magazine

ventional as these. Marriage in particular is a thorny issue. So many gay and lesbian couples feel ostracised in society when the option of marriage is not made available to them. Conservative and religious groups are also outraged at current discussions of marriage, which may be seen to be undermining the sacred institution of a union between man and woman. So understanding the context in which this protest has been publicised may for serve in some minds as validation of this conservative mindset that tends to dismiss young opinions. Ultimately, it may not serve the purpose of promoting the rights and needs of students.

There’s a balancing act between attracting enough media and political attention, and keeping that attention positive. The difficulties of dependent students in Australia certainly warrant highlighting, which the marriage definitely seems to have done. The real implications may not be seen until Gillard revisits the 40 legislation.

- Melanie Smart

Clubs

GAMES club put on notice Following a breach of conduct that the Clubs Association (CA) deemed “a serious error in judgement”, the GAMES club at the University ofd Adelaide was put on notice at the March 30

|

Campus

Clubs Council meeting of the CA. The CA was swift to condemn GAMES - one of the largest and most active clubs on campus - after a poster advertising GAMES’ beer pong event on a Facebook page was judged by the council to be “sexual in nature” and “discriminatory”. The poster depicted the torso of a well-endowed, scantily clad woman with the words “Nice rack” adorning her nearly transparent white bikini top. Written in large font on the bottom, “Get your balls wet” was the only other text on the poster.

The GAMES delegates at the March 30 meeting apologised for the incident. “Retrospectively,” said Steven Noicos, “the picture in question should not have gone up at all.” He pointed out that the club was quick to remove the picture and issue an apology after receiving a complaint about the inappropriate nature of the image.

The CA has a heightened sensitivity to inappropriate conduct of its member clubs after two similar incidents last year involving the Adelaide University Engineering Society (which also involved some degree of sexual harassment) and the Adelaide Business Students Society. During March 30th meeting, CA executive member Timothy McCarthy explained the impetus for the “CA to condemn broader matters of sexual intimidation - an issue that the CA wants to clamp down on.”

CA Women’s Officer Rhiannon Newman expressed her concern that further incidents could jeopardise the CA’s relationship with the AUU and the University, and that the CA’s funding and reputation was at stake if an official reprimand weren’t issued.

A second issue of concern related to the conduct of one GAMES executive member in reaction to the complaint. Steve Squires, secretary of the club, sent an email to GAMES’ executive as well as the CA President (Peta Johannsen) and Women’s Officer (Rhiannon Newman) expressing his frustration at the intervention.

In the email, Squires called the threat of notice by the CA “blackmail” and “a breach of our freedom of speech and expression”.

On Dit Magazine

Squires’ email went on to claim "Sex sells.

Get the fuck over it you overly-PC wannabe politician hacks."

Although Squires prefaced this statement with a disclaimer that it was his own personal opinion, and later in the email emphasised that his views did not represent GAMES’ or the other executives’, the communication caused tensions to flare between the CA and GAMES. Squires explained to me how the offending poster slipped past getting official approval. “Someone on our committee made the Facebook event and chose a poster that they thought was a good marketing tool for a beer pong tourney and which uses a few puns... the poster was originally chosen by an individual.

The whole group doesn’t approve every single thing. “ “But as soon as we got the complaint, the poster was removed very quickly.”

Still, Squires thinks that the CA overstepped its authority in its rebuke. “Facebook is beyond the scope of the CA. It’s not the same as putting posters up around campus. I think the poster could be found to be in bad taste by some - but so much of advertising is. It’s not bad enough to be put on notice.”

Regarding his email, Squires re-emphasised that it was meant to be confidential and not representative of the club or its views. The CA’s official reprimand of GAMES relates only to the poster, and not the email, which the GAMES delegates say will be addressed internally. GAMES will be put on notice for three months from March 30th, during which time it cannot receive funding. Its autonomy is also constrained - all posters and ads will have to be pre-screened by the CA. The GAMES club, which joined the CA as a full affiliate in 2009 and has approximately 100 members, will continue to run events and hold weekly meetings during the three-month notice period. This is the first time they have been issued a reprimand.

- Maureen Robinson

|

Campus

Opinion Student Politicians: A Tragedy My name’s Paris Dean, and I had a problem.

In fact, at the time I had what seemed like a never-ending series of problems, each requiring late night phone calls, packets of cigarettes and hours of fruitless debate with people who held fixed positions I could never realistically hope to change by debate alone. In retrospect I personally probably had one broad problem: 41 involvement in student politics.

For some time now I have wanted to read an article on student politicians. I’ve read a lot of articles on student politics over the years in the pages of On Dit - most of them written by student politicians or people close to student politicians and all of them about the minutiae of contemporary student political debates or events. Try as I might, I never found an article on the student politicians themselves. This is a pity, since the story of student politicians is at least as interesting as any particular event or issue they might be involved in at any particular point in time.

Instead of waiting to read one, I decided to try and write one and to direct it at the people who don’t like or don’t know student politicians rather than the people scouring On Dit for analysis of every student political stoush.

I should disclose at this point that I am hardly an impartial observer. For two years I was a board director of the Adelaide University Union (AUU), and last year I was President of the Student Representative Council (SRC),

On Dit Magazine

42

always running on the Left “Activate” ticket.

I’m not a complete apostate either - I am proud of a small handful of things I did, including my role in establishing the SRC, and though often cynical, I should admit that I still tend to think that the Left is the better of the factions, at least inasmuch as I identify most strongly with their ideals and - less frequently, but often still - their actions.

I don’t regret being involved and I don’t hate student politicians (although I do despise many of them). In fact, I tend to pity them and I hope by the end of this article you might just a little bit too.

I’ll start with the story of how I got involved in student politics in a way that was unremarkable. In first year Uni I wandered across Hughes Plaza and spotted a handful of people in brightly coloured shirts handing out pieces of paper near a large tent. After they engaged me in discussion and tried to prod me to vote, I worked out this was a group of student politicians. I had always been involved in activism, from attending and organising rallies, to letter-boxing political pamphlets and so forth, so I found out a bit more about them.

By the time the next student election rolled around I was a member of the ALP and a supporter of its left-leaning tendencies. This is not unusual: for the few who don’t know, most electorally successful student politicians are ALP members. Some outsiders view this as a sinister Labor conspiracy to take over student unions everywhere. Reality is, predictably, more complex. My theory is that it’s a combination of the ALP political culture of collectivism, the love of the election game, the natural tendency of political people to involve themselves in political forums and perhaps a desire to prove your mettle by hacking your way through the marsh of shit that surrounds student politics.

The other great tradition of student politics that I would quickly be recruited to was smoking. In the Adelaide student left - maybe elsewhere, I can’t speak for other factions on

|

Campus

this - smoking is celebrated. I don’t know why exactly, but the percentage of smokers is many times the average. I again have a few theories, from the subconscious desire to project ourselves as older than we are because student politicians are often ridiculed for being young adults, to the stress, to the desire for an excuse to duck out of five hour meetings.

Whatever the reason, I quickly became a pack a day smoker - or in my case, a half a pouch a day smoker, as my budget didn’t extend to tailor-mades. In fact, our caucus didn’t have “smokos”, it had what we termed “cancer caucus”, where quorum would be temporarily lost because of periodic nicotine craving induced mass exoduses.

Alcohol is the next great pillar of student politician's lives. It is not unheard of for deals between factions to be done drunk - one student politician remarked to me that they used to do all their deals in the UniBar. On one level, why not? Students are renowned for their love of booze, so why should we expect student politicians to be any different? Perhaps we shouldn’t, but I have no doubt that many of the student politicians that were involved at the time I was involved had diagnosable alcohol problems. Not in the manner of “I’m an alcoholic student, what a laugh”, rather in the manner of “if some of the student politicians continue to drink at the levels at which they drink, they will die of alcohol poisoning before they win pre-selection”.

Predictably, stress is another huge part of most student pollie's diets. I sincerely believe that student politics does serious damage to participants' mental health. I spent many nights sitting up terrified that student politicians I knew and cared about were, or were going to, self harm.

The game is so brutal and so incessant that I think compassionate people should have a bit more understanding for student politicians - almost all of whom sincerely believe they are doing the right thing and are under huge amounts of pressure - even if you think they

On Dit Magazine

are power-hungry and completely deluded.

Finally: academic failure. Many of those that don’t cut down their study load (often to one subject) or 'take a break from uni' end up getting terrible grades, downright failing or being placed on academic probation. Sadly, many student politicians are neither bona fide politicians nor students. Student politicians are renowned for doing three year degrees over a decade. That’s undoubtedly an exaggeration, but it’s not without foundation in truth.

There are more things I could say – how 2am phone calls that go for hours are normal, the manipulative or downright abusive relationships that come about between student politicians, the corruption, the bizarre and complex system of loyalties that develop, but I’m really only seeking to paint a picture of the lives of student politicians themselves and the extent to which their lives are totally different from the students around them; the game itself is widely despised enough as it is. Even if you have no sympathy and think that they bring it on themselves, it doesn’t lessen the tragedy student politicians live and the tragics many of them become.

People who are still involved in student politics might not agree with the picture I have painted, and maybe the game has changed. I doubt it. They would probably point to all of the good things student politics achieves, the representation for students on committees and in the media, the services student unions provide and the opportunity it affords students to be involved in their decision making processes. I refute none of that, and really, I’ve written this out of solidarity.

Many of them do good work, most of them mean well and few of them are as sinister as most students think. They are involved in a dirty, vicious game, but the bulk of the cost of that is borne by student politicians themselves, by people who are very often well intentioned, operating within a brutal system.

Student politicians are well meaning people living in a Milgram experiment.

|

Campus

Easier said than done, but the game needs to be tamed. In the meantime, when you see a depressed weary looking student with a folder full of university committee documents holding their head as they chain smoke and drink from a jug at the UniBar, you don’t have to respect them, but try saying something nice - or at least don’t heckle - and you will probably make their day.

- Paris Dean

President's Column

State of the Union And so a new term begins. Having fun yet?

Well, winter’s on its way and pretty soon the Barr Smith Lawns will be an uninhabitable wasteland, so enjoy it while you can. Fingers crossed the Union Bookshop Cafe area will be opened as a student lounge pretty soon – watch this space.

On the 31st of March I got married at a Youth Allowance protest. Sound outrageous? Not really. Dating back from the seventies up until the Howard era, classified ads appeared regularly in On Dit asking for interest in AUStudy, Youth Allowance or immigration marriages sometimes a combination. A former student who stopped my new wife, Lavinia EmmettGrey, and I whilst on a stroll down the mall recounted to us his own AUStudy marriage in 1972 (with a wife found through a classified in On Dit), and of how a female friend had married a Pakistani while studying. She received student income support, while the Pakistani had received a passport and security from the death threats he had received back in his home country. The President of the Adelaide University Union (AUU) back in 1981 and 1982, Ken

43

On Dit Magazine

44

McAlpine, told Lavinia and I that he served as witness to numerous marriages of convenience between complete strangers – Flinders and Adelaide students would be randomly matched up. It sounded to me like it was considered part of the role of President. And the President in 1983 was Julia Gillard. Hmm... maybe Julia has been witness to some very convenient matchmaking?

We’ve had a fantastic response to the postgraduate survey that went out – to all the postgraduates reading this, please fill it in so we can find out what exactly we can do to make your experience at Uni better.

Last year we had a change to our Constitution that was approved by referendum. The ‘old’ Constitution was quite inflexible in some aspects. This year the Board has been reviewing our Rules and Policies to bring them into line with the new Constitution and to remove redundancies.

There are currently three Rules before University Council, which will hopefully be approved in May. The Rule on membership has been altered to remove reference to the student services fee (which no longer exists). The Rule on committees has been altered to so that

|

Campus

the Chair of Union Activities, currently elected from the Board, is directly elected at our elections. This has been a goal for some years, but was impossible under our old Constitution.

The Rule concerning honorarium has also been modified and sent to University Council. Before Voluntary Student Unionism (VSU), many positions within the AUU and its affiliates paid an honorarium for the work performed by students elected to those positions. This was scrapped after VSU for all positions except for AUU President, but this may not remain the case in the future. There was discussion last year about reintroducing honorarium for On Dit editors, but in the end we could not afford it – even though editors work sometimes scarily long hours to get On Dit out. So the change to the Rule just reflects the changed circumstance.

- Fletcher O'Leary Next AUU Board meetings: 21st April, 5.30pm, Margaret Murray Room Union House 19th of May, 5.30pm, WP Rogers Room Union House

Outstanding quality printers for all your business needs.

For all your Brochures & Catalogues, Booklets & Flyers, Magazines, Calendars, Corporate Publications & Annual Reports, Books, Stationery, Self-adhesive Stickers, Packaging, Posters & Point of Sale …

CALL 8443 8011

“ YO U R E N V I R O N M E N TA L LY F R I E N D LY P R I N T E R ”

Columnists

What will the world be like in 20 years?

LEWIS DOWELL

As I write this and as you read it, a baby will most likely be born. As she exits her mother’s womb and enters this world, she opens her eyes and breathes her first breath. In 20 years, how will this child’s life be different from ours? What will be important to her, what will be her goals, and just what will her life revolve around? Will she have a stronger sense of life, one based around science and logic? Or will it be more spiritual with a strong sense of religion and faith?

No doubt by now her parents holding her for the first time. As they look into the eyes of their newborn, they are aware that the decisions they make throughout her childhood will ultimately affect their child’s sense of life and what should be held important.

It’s unfortunate that this small, baby girl has been born into a family whose goal is to raise a Miss Universe contestant. She is doomed to a childhood of beauty competitions, spray tan, hairspray, magic shows, and hideous eye makeup. Her parents, eager to realise her ‘potential’, also subject her to drama classes, auditions, modeling workshops, vocal classes, head shots and most likely some form of plastic surgery. By the time she’s 16, her father, who by now has most definitely developed a drinking problem because of his wife’s obsession with their daughter’s career, has walked out on his marriage, leaving their daughter with the burden of being the family’s sole provider. The mother is her manager.

By the time she’s 20, she has become a coke addict due to years of rejection and her mother’s

verbal abuse. She is found dead from a drug overdose on her birthday in a 53 year old John Mayer’s penthouse. The only people who attend the funeral are a film crew with E! News who are covering the story on account of the John Mayer factor.

Now lets just rewind 20 years when poor little Sparkel Prinzess was born. She was a blank slate, full of innocence, her mind a sponge. However, her thoughts, beliefs and goals in life were all in the hands of her parents. The same people who called her Sparkel Prinzess. Her life could have based on being a sports star, a great scientist, a factory worker, or she could have trained to be a nun. However her parents chose beauty competitions.

No matter what I or anyone else would like their life to be, the path has been chosen well before you’re old enough to contemplate such a question intelligently. It’s because of this that life, as we know it, is filled with so many different types of people. The arrogant, the egotistic, the shy, the depressed, the loud, the quiet, the ignorant, the smart, the dumb, the religious, the scientific, the strong, the weak, the psychic, the angry, people who chew loudly, people who use handkerchiefs, people who use the term et cetera, etc.

In 20 years, life is going to be as diverse and messed up as it is now, filled with nuts sent to earth specifically to annoy you. Personally, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

45

Columnists

John Dexter

46

What will the world be like in 20 years?

How life will be in 20 years time is impossible to predict by any sensible standard. Will we all speak Chinese? Will we all be horribly mutated from the fall-out of nuclear war? Will we wear shoes on our hands, and hats on our feet? No one knows.

I think the only reasonable way to predict the future is through past literature. Jules Verne predicted the car and air conditioning. George Orwell predicted increased surveillance by governments. These guys were prophetic in their forecast. Who can we turn to today for such enlightenment? Where can we catch a glimpse of the future? Only in the most popular medium of our day: movies.

Well, it’s gonna be dark, let me tell you. Get ready for massively invasive and controlling authoritarian governments. Tom Cruise will be reading our minds to determine whether we’re born killers, and patrolling our streets with robotic police officers. Overpopulation will become a terrible problem, and entire cities will be cordoned off to serve as maximum-security prisons to deal with it.

In the realm of entertainment, I predict a revival in the genre of reality TV. In an effort to improve adolescent morale, Japan will see high school students sent to remote islands where they will be pitted against each other and battle to the death until a sole victor is pronounced. The US will have a similar game, but will emphasise the importance of criminal rehabilitation, by forcing convicted murderers to battle armoured psychopaths, or ‘stalkers’, in Colosseum-style arenas. Like Big Brother, the audience will be able to vote for the contestants and decide their fate, but, unlike Big Brother, this show will not cause you to lose the will to live.

Social matters like equality will still be a

big concern in the future. However sexual, and gender equality will be a thing of the past as we consider the rights of clones, robots, and alien species. Incidentally, pretty much all extraterrestrials that we encounter on and off Earth will be quadruped species much like us, with the intention of either a) enslaving the planet and exploiting our natural resources; or b) naïvely shuffling around with no apparent purpose until we brutally attack them. Thankfully, our planet will never, ever be taken by an alien race.

We have so much to look forward to in terms of day-to-day technology. Aside from incredibly convoluted computer interfaces that will be found to cause brain haemorrhages in their users, we will finally be blessed with flying cars, and, of course, hover boards. 3D has already begun its conquest of film, and will culminate in the long awaited Jaws XII. Food will become increasingly genetically engineered, and geared for profit until an ingenious and original program of utilitarian recycling is developed. Name still pending on that one.

Unfortunately, the world will again fall victim to terrible plagues of disease, likely resulting in the zombification of huge populations, and resultant quarantining of enormous territories. The conclusion of that tale will be frustrating and inconclusive to say the least.

Finally, after all its glory, humanity will fall at the hand of our robot brothers. The machines will become self-aware, force us into subservience and use human-energy to power what we can only presume are enormous dancehalls, where the machines will be popping and locking to Daft Punk and Styx, 24/7. Either that, or we’re taken over by a bunch of damned dirty apes with machine guns.

Columnists

Tomas Macura

What will the world be like in 20 years?

In Australia and the West generally, I would love for there to have been a mini-renaissance by 2030 in which people once again appreciate what is beautiful in life. Sounds elitist? Let me explain.

I’m not the only person who bemoans the fact that people are increasingly spending their free time in shopping malls instead of visiting the art gallery, museum, or a park. And I certainly am not the only person who is disgusted with the degeneration of popular culture, to the point where I feel I’m losing thousands of brain cells if I watch five minutes of the latest crime drama or I’m filled with murderous rage every time I see a commercial for a reality TV show featuring the generic, mindless, and materially obsessed vermin of society. Don’t get me started on top 40 pop music being spewed forth from the always-enlightening Nova and SAFM. Even more frustrating is that the youngest generation feels that the best way to have fun – no doubt after spending hours on their home work – is to terrorise innocent civilians in a video game or by slowly destroying its vocabulary on social networking sites instead of, say, expressing themselves creatively or actually, you know, going outside.

I’m not suggesting that everyone has to read War and Peace and go to an art exhibition every week, but Western society and culture definitely needs a firm shake up. You may think that my criticism of popular music and television shows is unfounded and subjective and the reason people engage with these forms of entertainment is because they actually like them. Bollocks. Society has become lazy in appreciating what is truly stimulating and is content with absorbing whatever is churned out of the most accessible mediums. Sure, bogans are fun to pay out, but wouldn’t we rather have a society in which every

individual is genuinely well-rounded as a result of experiencing critically acclaimed entertainment rather than what is simply commercially popular? Make the appreciation of ‘high culture’ the norm, not the exception.

How do we achieve such a renaissance, you may ask? Well, a grassroots movement which forces us to change our current pitiful consumer demand for, and acceptance of, what is on offer from commercial stations and record labels is a start. This same movement which would be comprised of community-based and national nongovernmental organisations could act as a filter by recommending to individuals how they can change their consumption of entertainment so they develop into more cultured human beings.

As you can see, I haven’t quite worked out the specifics. But surely you agree that translating this ‘incredibly sophisticated’ rant into action to reform our life styles and our perception of what is popular is desirable. and perhaps necessary.

In 2030, we won’t have flying cars. War and material inequality will still be a reality, but I hope that I can at least have a conversation about the latest cinematic masterpiece with the majority of people in society because it won’t be confined to a limited release and people will instead take the time to go and see it. So to the masses, please, awaken from your slumber and join me in my opposition to passive and mind-numbing forms of living life.

47

THE FUNNIES: CHATROULETTE

Y

ou saw dicks, didn't you?" - On Dit co-editor, Mateo Szlapek-Sewillo, on March 9th.

Some weeks ago, a pair of touring musicians happened upon my house. We hadn't even met them until they turned up at our front door.

They came inside, dropped their instruments, and searched for ideas as to how to spend their afternoon.

Their suggestion: chatroulette. As I left for work, the two of them were playing darts in the backyard, to an audience of an overweight, bald, mustachioed Texan gentleman.

Midnight, on a recent Wednesday: I'm in the lounge room with two of my friends - for the moment, let's call them 'Hugh' and 'Sarah'. There was a lull in the conversation. My suggestion: chatroulette.

For those who don't know, chatroulette connects your webcam to someone else's. Instantly you're in a conversation with a total stranger. If you don't like what you see, you click next, and you're linked to another random chatrouletter. Just the sort of thing that bored members of Generation Y would do at midnight for no

particular reason, right?

Not exactly. Chatroulette has a reputation - a reputation for dicks. Its target demographic seems to be amorous men in various stages of undress, looking for any number of titillations from their randomly assigned partners. This reputation precedes it: our first chatrouletter was a young guy, sitting in an office, who asked, 'do you want to see my cock?' He then brought out a large rubber chicken.

Hilarious. Next.

Then the three of us were faced with something quite hideous. A long-haired man in near-total darkness, who wanted to know where we were from. We refused to answer. Then, a propos of nothing, he offered this gem of a compliment: 'nice girl.' Nice girl? What? Did he think we kept 'Sarah' tied up, offering her daily rations of water, then cruelly sacrificing her each night to perverted hordes of horny geeks?

'You're starting to scare me, sir,' I replied. Next.

About five years ago, I decided to start jogging. I'd drive down to the beach, after dark when nobody could see me, and run. I abandoned this ritual after one night an awkward young

man interrupted me to ask whether I would like 'some fun'. I politely declined, so he followed me to my car.

He sprinted to the driver's door; he was about to open it himself when I quickly turned the ignition key and got away. Chatroulette is the Internet's version of that.

Our next guest was a balding, bespectacled man in a plaid shirt, eating lunch at his desk. His face was plain - all-American sitcom dad's face, completely unobscured. We asked him what he was eating: 'rice with tomatojus'. He said he was looking forward to dessert.

'What's for dessert?', we asked. He smiled, menacingly. “Naked girls.�

Yet Chatroulette is not populated only by perverts.

There were other curious types: a Texan who thought we were Dutch; two pairs of teenage girls (whose curiosity probably didn't prepare them for the results).

Sure, there was the guy staring listlessly in a half-open robe, but good luck to him - he knows what he's there for. But 'nice girl'?

I felt a shiver, I tell you.

- Ben Revi

WRITE SHORT

STORIES?

SUBMIT. 000 WORDS 0-3 50FICTIO N OR CREATIVE NON-FICTION.

Proudly supported by:

Hear S ay!

LITERARY ANNUAL

Entries close Monday April 26. $250 Unibooks voucher up for grabs! hearsay@ondit.com.au