Farrago 2012 Edition 5 by Farrago Magazine

FARRAGO

JULY 2012

Reflections on

Journalism

“It’s Fucked”

Inside Union House

More than just asbestos!

Pollies in the Closet We List Them All

Six Aussie Bands to Watch

Or Even Listen To

Stage Kissing Visual Art Assange Several Ads

FARRAGO.

EDITION FIVE, JULY 2012

COVER ART BY PUYA AFLATOUN

THE FODDER

9-22

“Blue whales are the great nomads of the ocean, appearing as if by portkey wherever there is food. They communicate with each other with a song as loud as a jet, making them unquestionably the loudest thing on Earth apart from dubstep.”

4 EDITORIAL

JAMES WHITMORE, PAGE 11

9-11

FOOD: ICE CREAM, HOT DOGS & KITCHEN ESSENTIALS FOR STUDENTS

NEWS EPSC DIVISION, NEW ARCHITECTURE BUILDING & BLUESTOCKING

12-13

6 OFFICE BEARER REPORTS

18-19

SOUND: REVIEWS & SIX AUSTRALIAN BANDS TO WATCH

MESSY BEDROOM, BEDROOM SCHOLAR & LIVING WITHOUT INTERNET

20-21

BOOKS: BEAT AUTHORS & AN INTERVIEW WITH JOSEPHINE ROWE

BEC JONES TALKS TO SINGER MIMI VELEVSKA.

STAGE: QUEEN LEAR & A GUIDE TO STAGE KISSING 22

15-17

SCREEN: GAME OF THRONES, MIFF & RPGs

FEATURES

23-=36

FICTION

37-43

OPINION

45=-51

FREE EDUCATION MOVEMENT 23

CANBERRA’S CLOSED CLOSETS

THE FUTURE OF JOURNALISM?

27 INTERNING AT THE HUN

WHEN FALLING ASLEEP

THE STAFF OF UNION HOUSE

MORE CHEMICAL THAN CREAM

AN ASIAN MANIFESTO 31

BURNING OUT, FADING AWAY

VERMIN

POLITICAL INDISCRETIONS: SOME OF THE BEST 48-49

SYMPATHY FOR ASSANGE? NO WAY! 50-51

NO REFUGE FROM HYPOCRISY

THE BACK 53

LIFE S’PORT WITH KEVIN HAWKINS

LIVE EXPORT: CRUELTY COMMODIFIED? 36

FEELING A LITTLE QUEER WITH HOMO ERECTUS & MISANTHROPOLOGY

WHY ARE WE REALLY AT UNI? Art by David Brun 40 farragomagazine.com

EDITORIAL EDITORS Max Denton, Ella Dyson, Vicky Smith and Scott Whinfield.

CONTRIBUTORS Thomas Abildgaard, Eeva Armand, Scott Arthurson, Bernd Bartl, Caitlin Beech, Owen Bennett, Ryan Buhagiar, Hande Cerkez, Tom Clift, Natalie Diney, Lauren Draper, Ayla Erdogan, Homo Erectus, Christopher Fieldus, Mhairi Gador-Whyte, Nathan Gardner, Lucas Gaudissart, Paul Gruba, Richard Haridy, Kevin Hawkins, Amy Jenkins, Bec Jones, Bianca Kerr, Zoe Kingsley, Emma Koehn, Derrick Krusche, Danielle Kutchell, James Madden, Julia Matthews, Clancy Moore, Sarina Murray, Jess O’Callaghan, Geir O’Rourke, Binny Park, Anupama Pilbrow, Stephen Polesel, Michelle See-Tho, Faith Sim, Vern Skags, Dave Threlfall, Christine Todd, Samantha Toh, Meg Watson, James Whitmore, Sally Whyte, Tracie Winch, Dan Wood, Grace Yew and James Zarucky.

Welcome to the Banana Republic of Australia. We hope you enjoy your stay in this fine and prosperous nation. If you are visiting for a ‘temporary working holiday’, please report to Customs immediately for the largely painless insertion of our fun and handy tracking device. Otherwise, please read our national guide to understand this great economic zone of ours: •

SUB-EDITORS Josh Arandt, Tom Clift, Kate Crowhurst, Will Druce, Christopher Fieldus, Mhairi Gador-Whyte, Richard Gwatkin, Kevin Hawkins, Amy Haywood, Zoe Hough, Bec Jones, Zoe Kingsley, Emma Koehn, Christina Lee, Damir Ljuhar, Briar Lloyd, James Madden, Clancy Moore, Sarina Murray, Alex O’Brien, Jess O’Callaghan, Luke Patterson, Matt Pierri, Christina Spizzica, Chris Shorten, Michelle See-Tho, David Threlfall, Christine Todd, Meg Watson, James Whitmore and Sally Whyte.

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GRAPHICS CONTRIBUTORS Puya Aflatoun, Cameron Burke, Zoe Efron, Lena Ly, Mercedes Marsh, Matt McCarthy, Sarah McColl, Nicole Moraleda, Rachelle Moulic, Jessica Parra Nowajewski, Anupama Pilbrow, Tahnee Saunders, Jenny Shen and Rupert Weaver.

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OUR THANKS AND SEXUAL FAVOURS GO TO MANY Thanks, as always, to our friends and families—you guys are pretty great. Extra special thanks to our wonderful team of subeds and contributors, who stirred themselves out of hibernation to help us put this edition together. Thanks also to Nigel and the team at Printgraphics for a lovely tour of the factory and for printing our annoying magazine each month. And to our graphics team for being so consistently wonderful. Last, but not least, thanks to everyone who helped put our journalism spread together—sorry for the late notice, guys! Farrago encourages all students to become involved. Contact the editors if you wish to contribute or be placed on our mailing list. Email: farrago2012@gmail.com Phone: 8344 6957 Visit our website: www.farragomagazine.com Like ‘Mag Farrago’ on Facebook... please? Follow our inane tweets: @farragomagazine DISCLAIMER: Farrago is the student magazine of the University of Melbourne Student Union (UMSU). Farrago is published by the Secretary of the Union, Samuel Vero. The views expressed herein are not necessarily those of the Student Union, printers or editors. All writing and artwork remains the property of the creators. The collection is © Farrago and Farrago reserves the right to republish in any format. © 2012 University of Melbourne Student Union. All Rights Reseved.

MEDIA DEPARTMENT 4

FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

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Australia is a happy nation filled with only happy, economically maximised, citizen units. In order to maintain our happiness surplus, our elite Happiness Assurance Officers will conduct random spot-checks to determine your happiness level and any irregularities in thought. If traces of dissent or doubt in Our Dear Gina are detected, swift yet appropriate action will be taken. Australia has many wonderful sights including the Gina Harbour Bridge, the Big Gina, Gina’s Rock, the Gina Gina Ranges, Gina Gina, Gina and our personal favourite, GinaGinaGina. Gina. Enjoy the shopping and smog in our fine cities like Ginadelaide, capital of South Gina, Ginabourne, Upper Gina and Lower Gina, and Greater Gina. There is no Lesser Gina. We recommend avoiding Coalburg entirely, though East Coalburg is home to many of the nation’s best Rock n’ Coal bands. Australia’s media landscape is much like a town gloriously improved by the addition of a strip mine. Please pick up one of our many fine daily pamphlets during your stay for more information about mining or recipes by Donna Hay. Australia is celebrated for its rich media and cultural diversity—please enjoy your choice between Uncle Rupert’s Best and the Gospel According to Gina. A wonderful selection! All Australians share the bountiful surpluses of our glorious resource sector. Not needing sovereign wealth funds or redistributive taxes like other uncivilised and dirty nations, Australians have been freed to bask in the wonderful trickle down of wealth from Our Dear Gina and Eccentric Grandpa Clive. Over the last decade, the mining boom has created billions of dollars of wealth and pulled literally dozens of people out of poverty.

All praise Gina! Your Happiness Assurance Officers, Max Denton, Ella Dyson, Vicky Smith and Scott Whinfield

CORRECTION: In the last edition of Farrago, details included in ‘By-Election Non-Event’ were misreported. All vacant positions at the Burnley Student Association Department were filled uncontested. Four positions were filled at the VCAMSA by-election. The article said that nominations were not received for an Indigenous Student Representative; this should have read Indigenous Committee and Indigenous Office Bearer. Madee Clark currently holds the position of Indigenous Student Representative for 2012.

News.

UNIVERSITY OF MELBOURNE STUDENT UNION — JULY 2012

ILLUSTRATION BY ZOE EFRON

Is This Thing On? Not Yet. MICHELLE SEE-THO

he Student Union is moving to make all lecture recordings compulsory by the end of the year due to the demand expressed by students in a survey. The survey, conducted by UMSU (University of Melbourne Student Union) during June and July 2011, revealed that the vast majority of participants believed that lecture recordings should be compulsory. The survey asked students to rate their level of agreeability to statements such as, “I think that lectures should be recorded and available online” and “I still attend lectures even when they are recorded.” They were also asked how frequently they used Lectopia and their reasons for doing so. 88 percent of participants strongly agreed with lectures being recorded, and 69 percent strongly agreed that they still attended lectures even if they were recorded. Conversely, only 1 percent strongly disagreed with both statements. Reasons for using recordings varied between students, but most

of them stated catching up on lectures they missed, re-listening to parts they didn’t understand and revising for exams as reasons for using Lectopia. 744 students completed the survey. The results of the survey were presented to the Teaching and Learning Development Committee (TALDEC), an organisation designed to help develop educational policies with the University. TALDEC then set up a working group to develop a policy. Under the new policy, all lectures would be automatically recorded and uploaded to Lectopia, according to Education (Academic) Officer and TALDEC student member Kara Hadgraft. If lecturers wish to “opt out” of recording, there will be “a formal process through which a lecturer can apply for that lecture or series to not be recorded and provide a reason to someone such as a head of department as an accountability mechanism”. Professor Robyn Eckersley has always recorded her lectures,

Uni backflips on multimillion dollar Eastern Precinct experiment SALLY WHYTE

intending for students to use them in circumstances out of their control, such as illness. “This can lead to many other students staying away, which can be very demoralising for lecturers,” she said. “However, my sympathies always lie with those who would wish to attend but are unable to do so.” A lecturer who wished to remain anonymous said, “It isn’t particularly clear as to how the university plans on using the recordings of lectures… It’s difficult to give away a recorded copy of my work without knowing what will happen to it. This issue is rarely considered when students and unions call for compulsory recordings”. This lecturer does not record lectures, but conceded that recordings can be a useful resource for some students. “I recognise that with increasing fees and

here are fears that student services will suffer as a result of the division of the Eastern Precinct Student Centre into four separate student centres. In 2009, the student centres for Science, Biomedicine, Engineering and Environments were combined in the Eastern Precinct Student Centre (EPSC), following a model designed in the US by Boston Consulting Group. It was advertised as the first of the University of Melbourne’s ‘student precincts,’ and was to offer “a physical space that you can identify as your own for your learning, social and recreational requirements,” but less than four years in, Melbourne University is axing the EPSC. The move means that the University will have to find funds for four student centre managers, instead farragomagazine.com

responsibilities, it’s difficult for students to make all classes, and recordings can help. Nonetheless, I still think that listening to a lecture recording in no way is a completely adequate solution to actually being there.” Hadgraft said that another reason lecturers were opposed to compulsory lecture recording was that “this university still places great emphasis on being an ‘on-campus’ institution, unlike campuses like Deakin who offer many distance ed courses and that the ‘on-campus experience’ and engaging in person is an important part of a University of Melbourne education”. Professor Eckersley said, “It should be left to each lecturer to decide, provided they provide some means for students to catch up on missed lectures”. The results of the survey can be accessed on the Union website.

of the previous single manager, an added cost on top of the already costly exercise of setting up and then dumping the EPSC. In an email sent to students on 5 July, the University announced that student services would be returning to the previous model of separate centres for different faculties, effective at the start of this semester. A spokesperson from the University said “student feedback indicated some confusion about the exact role of the EPSC and the roles of faculty academic and student support staff”. The University now has 17 student centres and there are concerns that money spent on managers for each of these centres will be moved away from employing enough course advisors to adequately service the student population.

University Believes New Architecture Building Gift from Heaven MICHELLE SEE-THO he University is planning to demolish and reconstruct the Architecture building over the next three years. The Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning recognised that a new building would be a better support facility for the future needs of the faculty and its students. In an assessment of the current buildings, the faculty was advised that the best longterm option would be to demolish the current facilities and replace them with a more sustainable building. According to a University spokesperson, the University is acting now to ensure that the Faculty transitions into appropriate and sustainable facilities, which can accommodate their expanding staff, student and research needs. The building’s design was chosen from a selection of architecture firms, which entered

an international design competition in 2009. John Wardle Architects and NADAAA (previously known as Office dA) were chosen because of their ability to cooperate with the faculty’s needs. “They also bring a global understanding of design education, having designed several schools of architecture between them,” the spokesperson continued. The new building project is currently in the “decanting phase”, which involves the faculty moving in to temporary on-campus accommodation, for the duration of the construction phase. The demolition of the current Architecture building is set to start in December 2012, and construction of the new buildings will begin shortly afterward. John Wardle Architects and NADAAA, along with the University’s Faculty of Architecture, Building and Planning, aim to finish the project by 2015.

COMMENT

BLUESTOCKINGS: Celebrating Women in Higher Ed AMY JENKINS

STUDENT UNION OFFICE BEARER REPORTS

PRESIDENT

MARK KETTLE 2012 has been one of the biggest years in the history of the Student Union. With the introduction of the SSAF we finally have the money to begin delivering the activities and services that will build a campus life for all. This past semester alone has seen UMSU significantly expand our services and deliver results for students. • • • • •

ike all good things on this campus, Bluestocking Week is pretty retro. It started out with a bunch of upper class women in the 18th century whose fathers, brothers and sons were allowed an education, but since Greek and Latin were “unbecoming” for ladies, they got together and educated themselves in “literary circles” and dressed up in blue stockings—the standard garb for academics at universities at the time. “Bluestocking” then became a term of derision for learned women. “Bluestocking Week” started in the 90s in student unions to highlight how far we’ve come but also point out that it’s not really far enough. Following collaboration between the National Union of Students’ Women’s Department and the National Tertiary Education Union, it’s back! So why do we need to celebrate these women? Well, feminists and those who argue against them can see that we’ve come a long way. A really long way, in 2011 the proportion of women in Australia aged 25-29 years who had attained a Bachelor Degree or above (41 percent) was higher than men (30 percent). Women are the majority of the undergrad population, and have been since nursing training was included in the Bachelor’s program. Unfortunately, it then drops off. Women are the minority in post-grad, and even less represented in research as opposed to coursework-based Masters degrees. Of the women who are academics, they are further underrepresented in the higher levels of professorships. This isn’t because women aren’t as good as men, no really, some women might not be as good as some men, but overall it’s a bit bullshit. In addition to the gender divide there is an intersectionality of class, ethno-cultural background and (dis)ability

YOU IS FOR UNION

which further affect women’s access to higher education. Academia is a demanding field, but inequality in household and parenting responsibilities, expectations of gendered leadership styles and a whole lot of structural and social obstacles make it harder for women in get ahead. Of the 39 universities in Australia, 10 have a woman in the role of Vice-Chancellor (VC). In the Group of Eight—which our own esteemed university is a member of—only one member has a woman VC. The Ivy League in the US—which the Group of Eight no doubt wants to be like, just a little—manages to have four of the eight universities have a woman in the role of President (VC-equivalent). Like wow, the USA isn’t great at giving women rights at the moment, so if they can do it, what’s Australia’s excuse? So that was some stats, now let’s get our Arts student on for a second. Universities are bastions of privilege, I mean it’s UNIversity, not DIversity, amirite? Men can find role models everywhere. The Western canon is inherently patriarchal. What we study- in history, in social sciences, in philosophy- is almost wholly written by men, expressing the world views of men, except for that obligatory week about women, or that one slide about sexual assault which touches on some radical feminist quote out of context about all penetrative sex being rape at the end of a criminology lecture—I’m looking at you, Assoc. Prof. Steve James. How are we meant to have role models for the present and future when we don’t even see ourselves in history? So in week three, let’s dress up, let’s celebrate, let’s engage, let’s thank our foremothers who got us here and look to a future where it’s even better... Equal even.

FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

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• • • • •

Free legal service Larger advocacy service Working group on implementing the compulsory recording of all lectures by 2013 Lobbied for maximum tutorial sizes Improved safety at the university with more lighting on campus Action on housing—worked with the University on student accommodation options. Lobbied Member for Melbourne, Adam Bandt and State Shadow Housing Minister for housing, Richard Wynne Ran National Student Survey on Quality in Higher Education with one of the largest responses in the country Worked with the University on a student mental health strategy Improved Student Union communications to expand reach to all students Built strong relationships across the University Expanded the number of students on University Committees advocating for student interests

Enough of what has happened so far, this year is all about building a student community at Melbourne. As a university we have lacked the campus experience of some other universities. Some of that is our location in Melbourne, an underfunded Student Union in the past, and a mismatch of student service and activity. The remainder of 2012 is about developing an integrated and expanded student activity program combining clubs, events, orientation, mentoring and peer support, theatre and volunteering. Some of these programs are already in place and will be expanded, others are new and in the process of development. Student run activities are crucial to a vibrant campus in forming friendships across degrees and interests, reducing isolation at university and developing people and skills that last a lifetime. Why? Because University is a lot more than study.

ENVIRONMENT

EDUCATION (ACADEMIC)

RUTHIE HAMBLING & RACHEL DEANS

ANNA MORRISON & KARA HADGRAFT

Hey troops! Wow, have we had such a stellar semester! Thanks to everyone who helped out, we couldn’t have done it without you. Here’s a little list of some things we’ve achieved so we can all feel a bit proud: • • • • • •

• • • • •

The free vegan dinner ‘Play with your Food’ every Monday night, bigger than ever with new blankets and mulled wine! Collective workshops each week with guest speakers Weekly ride-to-uni breakfasts and bike maintenance workshops A new official Melb Uni Bike Co-op (with member discounts and regular activities) The Union House sleep in and the beginnings of a student housing action group The bottle-free campus campaign, including our Easter themed drinking fountain hunt Pushing the Uni to invest in more renewable energy, and collaborating with AYCC and Ed Pub with the Repower Union House campaign Finalising the progress of our Community Garden, we’ll be planting in Spring! Sending students to great conferences, such as the iDEA conference and S.o.S Involvement in Rad Sex and Consent week Collaboration with the Food and Book co-ops And some great events... An O-week party, a dusk picnic with music for Earth Hour and an end-of-semester luncheon!

We will be keeping all this up in semester two, and doing more! Rach is organising fortnightly enviro related movies and pizza on Tuesdays in Union Lounge. Here is the schedule: Week 2 (31 July) No impact man Week 4 (14 August) Thirst* Week 6 (28 August) Garbage Warrior Week 8 (11 September) Countdown to zero Week 10 (9 October) Food inc Ruthi is collaborating with the Arts department to start doing creative workshops in the Arts Lab. If you have a special crafty skill that you’d like to share, please email us! We are also organising an ‘Enviro Week’ for next semester. We are looking for workshop submissions. Please email us if you have any ideas for workshops or if you can give a workshop yourself. Here is what we have so far: Understanding biodynamics; What’s going on with coal seam gas?; The carbon tax, good or bad; Create your own small space garden; DIY reflective bike vests; Vegan cooking school; Dumpstering 101; Upcycle your way to success and many more! *Screening will be held in Training Room 2

Over the Winter break the Ed Ac office has been busy with a number of activities. We spent a couple of days staffing the UMSU exam support stall, providing information and last minute supplies of water, stationery, sweets and calculators to students. A lot of time has also been spent organizing and sitting on academic misconduct committees. These committees are an important part of our role; having students on misconduct panels ensures that a students’ perspective is always represented and that we can provide a degree of accountability that may not otherwise exist if panels are sourced solely within faculties. Over the coming Semester the Ed Ac office will be working on a number of projects. Bluestocking Week will occur in Week 3, in conjunction with the National Union of Srudents’ celebration of women in higher education. The week will be organised by the UMSU Education and Wom*n’s departments and involve a number of events and forums designed to highlight the achievements and struggles still faced by women in higher education. For more information or to get involved please check out the Union website or shoot us an email. The issue of recording lectures is progressing and we are currently working with people within the University to develop a policy to be put to Academic Board by December of this year.

WOM*N’S AMY JENKINS & BELINDA O’CONNOR Agh! It’s semester two and there’s still a patriarchy! Better get back to feministing already! Just as well a whole bunch of us went to the Network Of Women Students Australia (NOWSA) Conference in Canberra over the break to learn heaps of great activist skills. We liked it so much we bid—and won—to host NOWSA 2013 here at the Uni, how freaking exciting! We’re also preparing for Bluestocking Week in week 3, 6-9 August, to celebrate women in higher education. This year’s Bluestocking Week will focus on the original bluestocking themes: celebrating women’s intellectualism; advancing feminism through education; and rebelling against social constructs that prescribe roles for women, including those of class, race, sexuality and culture, that restrict women’s freedom of expression and thought—and we will add a modern (or

postmodern) twist. Bluestocking Week is coordinated by the National Tertiary Education Union (NTEU) and the National Union of Students Women’s Department. Events will be on campus, as well as the national launch is happening at LaTrobe’s Eagle Bar (Bundoora Campus) on Monday 6 August at 6:00pm. Coinciding with this week is Diversity Week: from Monday 6-10 August the University of Melbourne will celebrate Diversity Week with a lively program of events organised by staff and students. This important event celebrates the rich diversity within the University community and promotes the inclusivity of all staff and students at Melbourne. The Wom*n’s Department will be getting involved and we hope you will too! Otherwise we’re back into all our regular activities, FFFILMs, Girlzone, Feminist Discussion Group, Stich n Bitch and Wom*n’s Action Collective. Check out www.umsuwomyns.com for details and a whole lot of fun feminist readings to rage and smile at. If you’d like to get involved with any of these projects we’d love to hear from you! Just email womyns@union.unimelb.edu.au. Thanks everyone for a great semester one!

EDUCATION (PUBLIC)

LOUIS GREGORY Welcome back to University for another wonderful semester. I’m sure you have all made resolutions to improve study habits and to get more involved with the clubs you joined last semester. No doubt these resolutions will soon be delayed for 2013. It’s been a busy time in the Education Public Office. Since the end of classes last semester, I have been volunteering at the Exam Support Stall and representing students on academic misconduct hearings. I also attended the National Union of Students Education Conference and linked up with other Ed Pub officers from student unions across Australia. During semester two, I will be hosting a forum on basic rights in the workplace. The forum will include a guest speaker from Work Safe as well as the Youth Officer from the Victorian Trades Hall Council. The forum will also be a great opportunity for anyone who is concerned that they are underpaid or being ordered to work in an unsafe workplace a chance to get some advice about what can be done to stop it. I strongly encourage anyone feeling exploited in the workplace to attend. My other main focus during the semester will be launching a public education campaign to raise awareness about the issue of mental health within the student community. There is a growing link between depression and academic stress which can be exacerbated by the added pressures of part time work. In an effort to help bolster activism within the Education Public Department, I will be seeking to relaunch the Education Collective next semester. In addition, I will be also assisting the Education Academic officers with the continuing campaign to record all lectures as well as helping out with other coming events such as Bluestocking Week.

farragomagazine.com

theFODDER. FOOD * SOUND * SCREEN * STAGE * BOOKS

Photos of Tasmania by Jessica Parra Nowajewski

FOOD

Dreaming of Icecream in Istanbul By Ayla Erdogan

ISTANBUL, 8:00PM, AUGUST 25, 1999

he night around me is lit up by orange and neon pink, and I watch my feet move past one another as I trudge along, head down. I follow my shadow, cast long against the uneven cobbled lane, my tiny hand gripped by my father’s. Sounds of people and music whirr past as I stumble, half asleep, goaded on by my father. Brief snatches of windows filled with glossy sweets, bricks of halva and trays laden with powdered Turkish delight in ruby, emerald, and amethyst. My eyelids fall closed. I can smell the salt water of the nearby Bosporus, intermingled with the humid summer night air and the nutty spice emanating from the sweet shops and food

carts spinning past. I’m jolted awake by my sudden lack of movement and find myself at the foot of a glass cabinet, beneath an umbrella. A pallet of countless pale hues—pinks, greens, yellows, creams, browns— rouses me from my exhaustion. I watch as icy condensation billows around the arms of a moustachioed man churning one of the barrels with a long-handled paddle. He pulls and stretches the thrillingly coloured matter like dough, oddly viscous for something frozen. He spins it and plies it with his hands, grinning at my wide eyes. My father asks if I want dondurma. Ice cream. But this is like no ice cream I’ve seen before. I nod. The vendor moves fast, dipping his paddle in to the strawberry dondurma,

spinning and flicking the pliant mixture until he separates a daub from the creamy mass and places a cone on top. He spins the paddle over and over again, and the cone, like magic, remains stuck. Lifting the stick over the counter, he offers me the ice cream. I move to peel it from the paddle, but the vendor swiftly twirls the cone away from my hand and I grab at air. The vendor taunts me again, so I try to snatch it once more. The second time, I grasp the cone, only for it to be lifted out of my hand, still attached to the paddle. I can feel my eyes begin to well up, and so the ice cream is promptly handed over. I nibble at the top of the rosy scoop, followed by a decisive lick. Then a slurp as a sticky string of milky sweetness extends farragomagazine.com

from my mouth to the top of the cone. Gaining more conviction, I take a bite from the top of the scoop, pulling the cone away from my face so the gummy sweet strands don’t land on my arms. Cold on my tongue, and chewy in texture, the flavour of the dondurma is like nothing I’ve had before. The sweetness smells and tastes like flavoured strawberry milk, but the mastic, which is added to make the ice cream stretchy, imparts an almost savoury aniseed, cedar flavour. I smack my lips. The flavour is new, but familiar as well. The dondurma coats my throat in a cooling sweetness—I can’t help but go back for more. To try authentic Turkish ice cream (dondurma), visit Mado Café, Shop 157/ 1099 Pascoe Vale Rd, Broadmeadows, ph. 9309 2545

FOOD

Eating Out, Drinking In

Essential Utensils BY JULIA MATTHEWS

MICHELLE SEE-THO

ccasionally, I find myself at a restaurant where I want a drink that isn’t on the menu. It’s probably something fussy wine drinkers or cocktail connoisseurs can relate to, but it would be great if places allowed you to bring your own stuff—have your cake and drink it too, so to speak. Unfortunately, few restaurants are hospitable enough to allow patrons to bring outside food and drink in (let’s face it—cinemas won’t even allow it). Well, at least not without imposing a tax for not carrying a corkscrew around. So I’ve compiled a little guide for those of you who like to BYO—morning, noon, night, and later at night.

Pure Italian 249b Belmore Road, Balwyn North.

If you see brunch as an excuse to start drinking before midday, then Pure Italian is for you. It’s a great breakfast restaurant that allows you to bring your own champagne and order orange juice to make mimosas at the table. You can also bring beer and wine. It’s a little out of the way if you don’t live in the north/north-east, but if you can make the commute, it is well worth it—this may potentially be the only BYO breakfast place in Melbourne. The menu is quite impressive, too. Try the baked eggs—they’re amazing, and washing them down with a swig of champagne that you brought yourself makes a breakfast of champions.

Shanghai Dumplings 23 Tattersalls Lane, Melbourne.

Eydies 86 Lygon Street, Brunswick East.

We all know this alleyway dumpling house for its cheap food, its questionable sanitary standards, and the intermittent bars of “Happy Birthday” being sung out of its loudspeakers. But it is also a little-known hotspot for bringing a bottle of your favourite red to accompany one or two of the many dumpling options as they swim in a bowl of vinegar. The good thing about this place is that it is so far from classy that you can get rowdy (without the repeated experience of being on the wrong end of a greasy). And with corkage at $3 per bottle, it’s a financially efficient way of pre-drinking. The few downsides include long wait times and the manager running up and down shouting at his staff in Cantonese.

At its most simplistic level, Eydies is a bar built on simplicity. Their drinks menu has a decent selection, and the atmosphere of the place has a ‘60s vibe to it, with vinyl records for music and posters advertising Angela Lansbury films adorning the layered brick walls. But in my view, Eydies has the upper hand on other bars, because it allows you to bring your own food in from the restaurants next door. That’s right, it’s a BYO in reverse. They’ll even supply you with the utensils to eat with and on! With a number of local take-away choices, including pizza and Thai, that go very well with booze, it is extremely hard for one not to end a long, hard day of BYO-ing at Eydies.

FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

ILLUSTRATION BY SARAH McCOLL

t the beginning of the year a friend of mine moved out of home and into an apartment. I was invited to stay over, and I offered to cook him dinner for the week in return for hot showers and a bed. I created an elaborate dinner plan involving roasts, cakes, casseroles, and other delicious goodies that would fill the house with the comforting smells of good home cooking: by far the best housewarming gift! My plans were thwarted, however, when I arrived at his apartment and discovered that he didn’t have an oven. He was also missing several appliances and utensils. I could barely make a sandwich. We lived for a week on soup and Nandos, and it killed me. Many of you who have just moved out of home might find yourselves in this situation. Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret: you don’t need fifty thousand appliances to cook good food. If you’re looking to upgrade your student kitchen, look no further than these: Microwave: Back in the 1970s, microwave ovens became super popular in the home appliance market and microwave cooking was all the rage. These days we mostly use them to heat up last night’s leftovers, but the potential is still there. You can still purchase microwave cookbooks from op-shops, and I’ll bet your parents have a couple hiding in their bookshelves. I’ve heard you can even cook a roast dinner in them, if you hit the right buttons. I can steam vegetables in less than 2 minutes, leaving me time to do other things, like finish those last minute assignments. To make it even easier for you, they’ve developed microwaves that double as mini-ovens, so you can bake your cake and eat it too. Slow Cooker: Though a bit of an investment, the slow cooker is really a busy student’s best friend. The idea is that you put the slow cooker on in the morning before you head to class, chuck your ingredients in, and shut the lid. Leave it alone, and it will cook your meal and keep it warm while you’re busy not worrying about dinner. In a slow cooker you can make anything from Italian lamb shanks to mushroom risotto to whatever-was-in-the-bottomof-my-fridge soup, and it will always be ready for you when you get home. You can also get ones that double as rice and pasta cookers, so you can cook whatever your heart desires with minimal prep and maximum efficiency. Pressure cooker: Looks similar to a slow cooker, but its cooking methods

are slightly different. It allows pressure to build inside the pot, with raises the boiling point water inside and fills it with steam, which is released through a valve at the top of the pot. It uses less water and less energy than other cooking methods, which means food is prepared in about a quarter of the time. Good for soups, steaming lots of vegetables at once, and sterilizing jars for the jam-makers out there. However, they are a lot more expensive than a conventional saucepan and if you get caught in a stream of escaping steam, you’re going to have to know how to access Lectopia from your local hospital. Wok: When you say wok, most people think of stir-fry. But that is just one thing a wok can do. The wok is the kitchen equivalent of Superman: it does everything. Fill a wok with oil and it becomes a deep fryer. Put some water in the bottom and a bamboo basket on top and it becomes a steamer. Fill it with water and use it to boil potatoes, rice or pasta. Fill it with flavoured stock, chuck in some vegetables, meat and ramen and you have Chinese noodle soup. Omit the stock, add seasonings and you have homemade mi-goreng. Swap noodles for rice and you have fried rice. Your possibilities are only limited by your creativity. You can get them in a variety of materials and each has its own advantages: I find cast iron heats quicker and lasts longer, but it is harder to clean and you have to keep it oiled to avoid rusting. Sandwich maker: Who doesn’t enjoy sitting on the couch after a hard day’s studying to a comforting ham ‘n’ cheese toastie? Chuck just about any sandwich in there and you have a warm, crunchy dinner in minutes. You can get them in a variety of shapes and sizes, including a version that cuts them in half for you. Aww. A must-have for students. Have these in your kitchen, and you will be on the road to good cooking, not to Macca’s.

Get Your Haute Dog! BY BINNY PARK ith the Massive Wieners stand in Prahran, Le Sausage food truck and Snag Stand at the heart of the CBD, It’s hard not to miss Melbourne’s current love affair with hot dogs. The newest joint, only a few months old, is Phat Brats on Brunswick Street. According to Matt John, who co-owns the place with friend Damian Thompson, the name refers to the fact that bratwursts are “phat”— meaning “cool” or “pretty hot and tempting.”They do, however, offer many other types of sausages. Cheesy smoked kransky, chorizo, wagyu beef, lamb and rosemary, pork and sage, chicken and thyme, and veggie dogs make up the diverse range of “honest” sausages on the menu at Phat Brats. According to the menu, these sausages are organic and sourced from a local supplier just “a few seconds down the road”. Bread choices include classic, seeded and for a couple of extra bucks, gluten-free. The pork and sage dog is a winner. It has a tasty balance of sweet and sour provided by the pickled shredded red cabbage, and the herby sausage is salty and aromatic. But stay away if you’re not a fan of fennel seeds as there are many embedded within. Overall, these organic and locallysourced sausages are meaty, not fatty, and are not overpowered by sauces or toppings. With prices ranging from $7.5 to $8.9, they’re great value too. John and Thompson, who have been working in the food and beverage industry for years, were inspired to open Phat Brats after visiting the US last year. They saw the influx of hot dog joints there and thought how easy it would be for them to make hot dogs into “a fresh, gourmet, quality product”. “American ‘dude food’ is very much in right now,” he says. “Hot dogs are also an item that can be spun in many different ways. It’s affordable, nostalgic, quick and exciting.” Other relatively new hot dog joints include Massive Wieners which offers ordinary pork or

vegan-friendly soy hot dogs in different sizes. There is the 12inch ‘Massive Wiener’, six-inch ‘Average Joe’ and the three-inch ‘Little Pecker’. You can load them up with toppings like cheese, onions, chilli or sauerkraut if you find the dogs too pedestrian. Another place worth visiting is Snag Stand, situated in the bustling centre of the city. Like Phat Brats, it offers a variety of different fancy “haute dogs”. The prices are slightly more expensive though, ranging from $6.90 for the most basic dog, up to $9.90. Their vegetarian dog (made of potato, smoked apple and sage) is superbly flavoursome in a very French-sautéed-mushroom-withtruffle-aioli way. All snags come on a posh toasted brioche roll. It’s funny how, over the past year, we Melbournians couldn’t get enough of cupcakes and macarons, Mexican food and food trucks. Do we just have short attention spans? Or could we be faddists hooked on everchanging trends? If so, what will be the next trend in Melbourne’s food world? According to Cindy Hauser, who has been posting about restaurants and recipes on Where’s the Beef since 2006, “more Americana”. “We’ve seen Tex Mex, burgers and hot dogs and we might start encountering more Texas BBQ and soul food,” she says. “As a sweet tooth, I’m hoping that cupcakes and macarons might be usurped by ice cream sandwiches.” Whether the next trend does end up being ice cream sandwiches or not, as per Hauser’s desires, there’s no doubt it will be just as exciting and accessible to us as hot dogs are now. Phat Brats 320 Brunswick St, Fitzroy; open seven days, midday until late. Massive Weiners 113 Greville St, Prahran; open Tues-Sat, midday until late. Snag Stand Corner La Trobe & Swanston St, CBD; open Mon-Thur 10am to 10pm, Fri-Sat 10am to 12am and Sun 11am to 9pm.

James Whitmore Other Animals

JAMES WHITMORE THE. BLUE. WHALE.

hat is how natural historians should introduce the greatest creature to live or ever have lived on Earth, three simple words in reverential tones, as this ghost of an animal swims out of the deep into focus, and then disappears again in an oceanic haze. They’re not kidding when they say the greatest creature to ever have lived on Earth. It is difficult to comprehend just how humongous a blue whale is. Inevitably comparisons are required to place the creature in perspective. At up to 160 tonnes, the blue whale far outweighs any dinosaur. Only certain types of tree exceed the blue whale, making them in fact the greatest living things to ever have lived—a mere technicality. Females can grow up to 33 metres long, the size of a whale. Males are a bit shorter at 30 metres, the size of a smaller whale, but they have two metre 40 centimetre penis, the size of a largish dolphin, which pretty much makes up for it. Admittedly there are certain kinds of jellyfish with tentacles up to 37 metres and a particularly stretched bootlace worm can be over 50 metres, but both are spineless, which is cheating. There are other records everyone is by now surely familiar with: a blue whale’s heart is the size of a small car and its arteries are presumably large enough to drive a train down. Its tongue weighs as much as an elephant or a rock of a particular size, but its eyes are only about the size of a human head. Blue whales aren’t blue—more a mottled grey—but underwater they glow an eerie aqua unlike any other whale, which comes in handy for aerial surveys. Such surveys revealed a population of blue whales off the coast of Victoria. Off the coast of Portland is an area known as the Bonney Upwelling. Cold water from the sub-Antarctic hits the continental shelf and is forced to the surface, bringing with it detritus, otherwise known as fish poo and dead stuff. This lovely soup is what tiny aquatic plants like to farragomagazine.com

~MD

bathe in, which in turn become food for the blue whale’s délicatesse, krill. Everything in the Bonney Upwelling exists together in a delicate balance. It’s the circle, the circle of life. Krill are small crustaceans. In another assault on the blue whale’s status as king of the sea, krill by total biomass—the combined mass of every individual in species—are one of the greatest animals on Earth. The above really summarises what is known of the greatest animal on Earth. No-one knows where they go to breed—it might be somewhere off islands in the south-west Pacific. Like other whales it is likely that mating involves much chasing of the females and splashing about. When the calves are born they are already giving record book a run for its money at six metres long. They appear in Victoria in November, with the latest sightings in May. Blue whales are the great nomads of the ocean, appearing as if by portkey wherever there is food. They communicate with each other with a song as loud as a jet, making them unquestionably the loudest thing on Earth apart from dubstep. Blue whales have also shown one of the steepest declines of any animal. Before whaling it is estimated there were over two hundred thousand blue whales. By the time of the whaling ban in 1973 there were only 360. In the Antarctic there are now over a thousand, 50 of which visit Victoria every year. Threats to blue whales now include usual suspect climate change and over-harvesting of krill. Krill—as if they didn’t have it hard enough being swallowed by the greatest creature that has ever lived—are now captured for fish food and latestmiracle-cure-super-food krill oil. In the finale of any natural history documentary worthy of the title, as the music swells like a feeding whale, the blue whale inevitably becomes a symbol for the grandeur and mystery of nature, dwarfed by the ocean it lives in. A metaphor for the fragility of life and the problems it faces. As Mufasa said, the key is to respect all the creatures, from the crawling krill, to the leaping whale.

My Messy Bedroom

Real Life Syndrome

NATALIE DINEY

emember that feeling you used to get as a kid after your parents had just bought you a new gadget from Toyworld? That frenzied focus on getting your hands on your new toy as soon as possible to start playing? Yeah, now imagine how I felt after Mega Babe and I drove to good ol’ Sexyland and picked up our very first strap-on. I’ve had penetrative sex with cis men before, so the idea of introducing a plastic genital friend into my relationship with Mega Babe seemed uncomplicated. My lady lover was equally unconcerned at the thought of inviting a phallus into a female-bodied bedroom, although she had only had sexual encounters with other vagina bearing bodies in the past. There is often some speculation about ‘lesbian’ relationships and phallic objects—don’t you hate the dick? Why don’t you just fuck a guy? To which the politically correct reply is ‘why don’t you just fuck off?’ All sexual encounters are unique. People get their rocks off in hundreds of different ways. The only consistently essential tools needed in the bedroom are communication, and consent—not the objects and techniques you use. We had the first, we had the second; we were ready to introduce a third into my messy bed. After leaving Sexyland we quickly drove back to my house to dote over our new toy. The harness was red, the dildo black, the clitoris bullet a shiny silver. I would have preferred a sparkly or purple phallus, but students can’t be choosers, so we went for the most hip pocket happy toy. After a few weeks of experimenting with our new mate I found myself randy before dinner. Rather than participate in

a saucy solo spoon I decided to strap on our new toy under a roomy tulip skirt and make my way to the other-side of Fitzroy to see if Mega Babe was down for a forking. I strode down Brunswick Street; my hips jutted forward, a phony boner pressed against my stomach, and a salacious smile on my face. Some part of my brain indulged in visions of how hilarious it would be if I were hit by a car and carted away in an ambulance, but the majority of my mind was intent on slamming Mega Babe up against a wall somewhere. We arrived sweaty and late to dinner that night. The rest of our housemates were already gossiping over beers as one of the adults in the group stood up to make a speech. I shoved my bag off my lap and onto the floor when I heard my phone begin to vibrate – violently. Mega Babe raised an eyebrow in my direction as the rest of the room fell silent except for the host and my bag buzzing under my chair. I reached into the offending purse; convinced that my phone was throwing a hissy fit, and wrapped my fingers around the silver clitoris bullet I had forgotten about. Our new toy has managed to be both helpful and hilarious. It’s the ultimate penetrative partner and clit teaser all at once. Just last week Mega Babe and I were having a nice screaming session when the dildo decided to be a dick. Just as I was helping my coming companion to a crescendo of ‘YES! YES! YES!’ the phallus slipped out of the cock ring. Mega Babe let out a guttural scream, ‘NOO!’ her eyes wide and blazing. It took me a full thirty seconds to stop laughing— touché toy, touché. FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

BY DAN WOOD

everal months ago, a passing truck ripped out the low-hanging telecommunications cables connecting my house to the so-called grid. My initial reaction was disinterest—I’m still in my twenties and so have no use for a home phone. Then my housemates told me that the internet doesn’t work like a radio, and that we also needed those cables to check Instagram. I went ape (shit). Today, one must constantly consume online media to ingest sufficient creative and conversational fodder…but it has to come from the right media. Without internet access, this becomes a very real concern. Consider my typical day, pre-internet deprivation: in the morning I listened to RRR online. Whenever I was in transit I listened to This American Life podcasts. And when I arrived home I browsed the most recent posts on The Onion and Jezebel. Suffice to say, throughout such a day I would interject many a conversation with relevant and witty comments. My ostensible, and very deliberate, patterns of media consumption placed me squarely in what the marketing-savvy would label the “self-consciously trendy fuckhead” demographic. Nowadays, dissembling my true passion for the musical stylings of 101.9 Fox FM and the “Lost in Love” section of the mX is becoming increasingly difficult. Because without social networking, how am I supposed to know what the trendsetters have e-stamped™ “ACCREDITED

The Bedroom Scholar EEVA ARMAND

ILLUSTRATION BY MATT McCARTHY

COOL”? And which would-be memes have been lost to the virtual ether, or designated leftovers to be thrown to the cultural mongrels? Where is my internet? My soothsayer of chic? Sure, I can still passively absorb multiple media simultaneously without the internet, but how do I know which media to absorb?! As for sexual self-gratification vis-à-vis pornography, it turns out my other housemates have amassed a vast collection of hardcopy erotica. Of course, frequent viewing soon renders the content stale. No big deal, really—I am now at an age where I have experienced enough sexual encounters that my brain’s cache of “Fuck Cookies” is approaching max capacity. And not a single flaccid memory in the bank… thanks, Lynx Africa. Unfortunately, this provides little consolation as my reservoir of topical comedy gobbets steadily dwindles. I am a has-been social alchemist. I no longer possess the requisite material to transmute fellow Gen Y’ers into ROFLing LOLcanos. People are starting to laugh at me. The same kind of laughter aimed at the otherwise non-descript fat kid in the “incidental-self-harm” YouTube clip. Yeah, that one. The internet mediates cool. Without it, I am a sagging cultural plebiscite, eking out meager snippets of now passé digital trash. I idle, half-blind, amidst a sea of raging internet aficionados, throbbing with the tumescence of up-to-the-minute RSS feeds… yes, in this metaphor, people are penises.

exology: the refined and clinical study of sex. This is science and fact, not playtime—or so many a scientist has striven to establish. Indeed, sexology has revolutionised life in and outside the bedroom. It has given us myriad contraceptives, a greater understanding of socalled ‘deviant’ sexual practices, cures for sexual dysfunction, sex counselling, and a rather intimate knowledge of the hitherto mysterious female genitalia. This is all very easy to take for granted in our current age of knowledge, but early sexologists faced considerable difficulties in their quest to discover the secrets of human reproduction. The study of sex can easily be viewed as an ‘icky’ business. First-hand documentation of sexual acts can be awkward, for participants and researchers alike. However, relying merely upon the reports of participants is a troublesome and unreliable method. So, science has to go in and get its hands ‘dirty’—so to speak. In the process, researchers are often written off as perverse rather than dedicated. Consider the scorn, from public and professionals alike, that a scientist would face for wanting to study the average distance that semen is spurted from the penis—in order to study fertility, of course. Today, many sex writers feel the need to use pseudonyms, and many a sex researcher tends to be vague and full of jargon when asked what they do for a living. But this kind of prejudice did not stop the brave pioneers of scientific sex research. In 1950, Klumbies and Kleinsorge studied a woman who could have multiple orgasms merely though farragomagazine.com

fantasising. Sadly, the scientists didn’t study that particular incredible ability—rather, they valued her because she was more acceptable to study. In the time, it was far less questionable if there was no physical contact in sexual research. Even today, in order to bypass stringent ethics committees and forgo the trouble of finding willing participants, researchers will often simply experiment on themselves. Alfred Kinsey is one of the most famous of sexologists, and originally he secretly conducted sexual experiments in his attic at home on himself, his friends and his colleagues. The information he gained from these sessions later surfaced in his books. But Kinsey’s inspiration actually came from the work of Robert Latou Dickinson, who conducted research in 1890 in his own gynaecological practice. He took detailed sexual histories of all his patients and compiled a boatload of information. Far from being perversely interested in the secrets of these women, Dickinson simply believed that the information could help married couples have better sex lives. He wrote that masturbation was a normal sexual practice for women. Dickinson also broadcast the concept that clitoral stimulation is important, and recommended the ‘woman on top’ position for her pleasure. If anything, Dickinson was a feminist, not a pervert. Today, science persists in researching this most essential aspect of human existence. But however much the taboo against sex has slowed the progress of research, it is thanks to the daring researchers of yesterday that we have knowledge of such things today.

& ANSWERS

Questions

WITH BEC JONES

confident woman struts down the footpath, her red hair ablaze and bouncing on her shoulders. “You’d think that I would see the warning signs,” she sings, her voice both husky and soulful. It’s reminiscent of the jazz era that bought us Aretha Franklin, but with all the energy of an electric rock outfit. Her name is Mimi Velevska, and she has recently released her debut single ‘Damn’. The jazz-trained vocalist graduated from the VCA in 2009 with a Bachelor of Music Performance, and since then has been rediscovering herself as a musician. From an interest in RnB and relaxed, soulful tunes, Mimi delved into the world of rock where she discovered that it “really married the idea of singing soulfully and passionately whilst having a loud energetic stage show”. Much of this influenced the way Mimi went about recording her first EP, due to launch later this year. Aptly titled Bona Fide Electric, the collection of songs reflects Mimi’s passion for distinct vocals and a killer bass line. “I really am immersed by... those bona fide electric performers that sweat it out on stage, not [thinking] about hitting every note perfectly, or a

co-ordinated dance routine. Just a raw energy that makes you think ‘I wish I could do that’,” she says. It’s something that has been many years in the making. “I recently found my first ever piano, which was like a 48-centimetre Yamaha keyboard, and the keys are the size of my pinky,” Mimi reminisces. “It’s nice to go back where it started.” When Mimi was a young girl she would walk past the VCA every Sunday, hoping that one day she would be studying there. “It was just always in my mind from a young age that there was nowhere else that I wanted to study,” she confesses. “I didn’t even apply for any other music universities— definitely a lack of ‘backup plan’ there!” However, a backup plan was not required. In fact, if it was not for time spent in the rehearsal room at the college, her first single ‘Damn’ might not have developed into the catchy tune it is today. “‘Damn’ was written in my third year at the VCA,” Mimi explains, “It was the tune we played in an ensemble class. I never thought it’d be a tune I would release!” Her inspirations for the song come far and wide; from Dr. Dre’s ‘Guilty Conscious’, to a house song called ‘Cream’. “It’s reflective of my years spent

clubbing on Saturday nights. Which is funny, that I’d be studying jazz during the week and clubbing to house and hip hop on the weekends,” Mimi jokes. She is now working on a second film clip for her single ‘I’m Yours’. “It’s a song I’m really proud of,” Mimi gleams, and one where her warm mezzo-alto vocals truly shine. “I want lots of body paint and psychedelic influences in [the clip],” Mimi says, excited about the idea of experimenting with colour. “I’ve done photo shoots with body paint about three times now. I absolutely love the idea of the body as a canvas.” Whether it’s a photo shoot or live show, it’s all about expression for Mimi. “I coloured my hair because I loved the idea, and I really felt comfortable being the best version of myself.” This experimentation has given Mimi a much desired freedom

to develop into a strong vocalist. Yet, she is more than just a voice. “It made more sense to me to become an amazing live performer, than just a singer,” Mimi admits. “I’m excited about the whole performance. The things I’d say in between songs, the stage performance, the dancing, the energy... I respect that performance element.” With Mimi already writing her second EP before the launch of her first, you get the sense that this soulful lady has no plans to stop. “It’s shaping into a new direction for my music,” she says. And we can’t wait to see where it takes her. You can see Mimi’s live set @ The Prague, August 9th. Visit www.mimivelevska.com for details. If you, or someone you know, is a young artist who’d like to be interviewed, e-mail us at farrago2012@gmail.com and you could be the focus of Bec’s next column.

~ RUPERT WEAVER

FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

MICRO-REVIEWS IN THE MIFF OF IT RICHARD HARIDY goes over the MIFF program.

he Melbourne International Film Festival (MIFF) is my favourite time of year. 17 days of sleep deprivation, alcohol, fast food, irresponsible use of cold & flu tablets and wonderful films—what more could one ask for? Several titles this year are simply unmissable. Holy Motors, a masterpiece of absurdist insanity from French auteur Leos Carax starring Kylie Minogue; Michael Haneke’s Amour, a devastatingly stark look at death and aging. The winner of this year’s Palme d’Or, Beasts Of The Southern Wild, arriving fresh from rapturous Sundance and Sydney screenings, plays like a fairytale cross between Michel Gondry and Terrence Malick; and then there’s The Imposter, a documentary chronicling the bizarre story of parents who discover their son isn’t who they think he is. One of the joys in a film festival is the opportunity to experience films in a cinema that you would never otherwise have the chance to see. A singular highlight of MIFF this year is the five and a half hour Bollywood gangster epic, Gangs Of Wasseypur. Playing like a bizarro, super-violent Indian cross between The Godfather and Scarface, this is a truly unique film that I highly recommend. Other once in a lifetime opportunities include: Room 237, a conspiracy theory documentary about the films of Stanley Kubrick; the genuinely psychedelic Faust from legendary Russian filmmaker Alexander Sukurov; The Legend Of Kaspar Hauser, an abstract, hipster art film featuring a soundtrack by Vitalic; and Headshot, a self-proclaimed ‘Buddhist noir’ that plays like a Thai David Fincher movie. MIFF always hit the genre buttons better than any other festival in Australia and there’s plenty of

obscene and confrontational stuff in the program this year. Killer Joe, from Exorcist director Matthew Friendkin, is a must-see blast of redneck, exploitation nastiness starring Matthew McConaughey in a gamechanging performance as a cop who moonlights as a hitman. Sightseers is the latest, highly anticipated black comedy from Ben Wheatley who smashed us all in the face last year with his brutal Kill List; Maniac is a super-violent, gonzo-horror film shot entirely from the first-person perspective of a serial killer played by Elijah Wood; and God Bless America, the latest black comedy from Bobcat Goldthwaite, who will also be in attendance at the fest. Naturally there are some duds in the program, and the biggest has to be On The Road, the long awaited adaptation of the classic Jack Kerouac novel. Overlong, repetitive and frustratingly miscast, the sight of Kristen Stewart naked and masturbating two men in a car speeding down a highway is not enough to make the 137 minute running time worthwhile. Rampart, a monotonous, one-note, bad-cop film starring Woody Harrelson is also one to avoid while Safety Not Guaranteed, starring new quirk queen Aubrey Plaza is so slight that it barely even exists. Thankfully, it’s definitely more hit than miss. Other super-cool highlights include: skateboard doco This Ain’t California; hip-hop doco Something From Nothing – The Art Of Rap; the intense exorcism drama Beyond The Hills; practical joke The Ambassador; Swedish comedy Flicker; horror anthology V/H/S; and French thriller Sleepless Night. MIFF runs 2–19 August. Full program and tickets at www.miff. com.au

TED (5 July) If you like Family Guy, then Seth MacFarlane’s directorial debut about a foulmouthed teddy will have you in stiches. If you hate Family Guy, then you’ll find it utterly unbearable. THE KING IS DEAD (12 July) A mild mannered couple takes matters into their own hands after rowdy, drug-dealing neighbours make their lives a living hell. An engaging if occasionally repetitive Australian film from Ten Canoes director Rolf de Heer ABRAHAM LINCOLN: VAMPIRE HUNTER (2 August) American political history is reinvented as Honest Abe Lincoln (Benjamin Walker) faces off against some bloodthirsty opponents. A fun piece of horror cinema until the tired third act. - Tom Clift & James Madden

DVD OF THE MONTH: HAYWIRE

The genre-hopping Steven Soderbergh (Ocean’s Eleven, Traffic, Ché) adds another notch to his directorial belt with Haywire, a lean, mean espionage picture starring MMA fighter Gina Carano, co-starring Ewan McGregor, Michael Fassbender, Channing Tatum, Antonio Banderas and Michael Douglas. The story, about a government agent betrayed and left for dead, is pretty silly…but you don’t go into this movie for the plot. Close quarters fight scenes are shot with minimal editing and sound effects for maximum brutality; add to that stylish cinematography and an excellent, sixties-ish horn score, and there’s little doubt that Haywire is one of the coolest slices of cinema of the year. ~ Tom Clift

farragomagazine.com

Sex Dungeons & Dragons

BEAUTY REVIEW BY JAMES ZARUCKY

GRACE YEW welcomes a new type of television.

t’s been described as The Sopranos in Middle-earth. It’s HBO’s third most-watched series in history. It’s behind all those “Winter is Coming” jokes. Game of Thrones is so lucrative and widely-acclaimed that it’s branching into merchandise—you can now buy the Iron Throne online. (You too can dominate the Seven Kingdoms from the discomfort of your overpriced metal chair! Battle power-starved politicians and bloodthirsty zombies for the right to keep your spiky seat!) For the uninitiated, Game of Thrones is an adaptation of George R. R. Martin’s fantasy novel series A Song of Ice and Fire. The series is set in the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, where dynasties vie for national rule. Despite warnings from more observant characters, the royal court ignores zombie threats from the icy northern region, as well as the up-and-coming dictator in the continent across the sea. Fans laud the show as revolutionary television, and it is. It’s the once-unfilmable medieval fantasy epic, alive on the small screen. It combines cinematic genre play and production values with TV’s capacity for sophisticated ensemble drama. Hollywood loves page-to-screen adaptations, like the Harry Potter series and Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, because they profit from new audiences and existing fan cultures. Thrones’ success can be partially attributed to the popularity of these precedents. Indeed, showrunners Benioff and Weiss were originally approached to create a PG13 film, but opted for television so they could flesh out the stories and go nuts with the guts and corsets. This decision proved essential to the series’ success: the novels are sprawling, character-driven behemoths. The show has no real protagonist: everyone gets screen time, even if some arcs are shorter than others (see season one, episode nine.) The show favours politics and Brazilian-waxed prostitutes over swords and sorcery. There are more dungeons than dragons. Its only dwarf is beardless, witty, and arguably a species unto himself. Fantasy staples like witches, zombies and dragons are fairly low-key compared to the emphatically realistic medieval tropes,

including angry mobs and harrowing, bloody battle. In fairness, the latter was jazzed up with fiery emerald explosions. The show’s unparalleled ambition is reflected by its US $60 million seasonal budget. Never before has a TV show been produced on this scale. Thrones boasts a huge cast, comprised largely of British and Irish actors. All episodes are shot on location in Northern Ireland, Malta, Croatia, and Iceland, where filming has been impeded by ecological damage and freak hurricanes. Props and costumes are all aged and processed. At one point, Emilia Clarke chows down on a giant horse heart (candy) covered in blood (sugar), attracting actual flies for authenticity. A valid criticism from new viewers is that the show jumps between a myriad of storylines and characters. This is a big, complicated world, and viewers are expected to keep up. Although some things have been lost in translation from book to screen, the producers have for the most part done a remarkable job of balancing the novels’ multitude of subplots. Some of their changes have even improved on the books; Martin is a brilliant storyteller but not always a brilliant writer. Game of Thrones’ successful combination of high court intrigue and visceral shock has attracted and repelled viewers simultaneously. It isn’t so much a new form of TV as it is a chaotic amalgam of the best aspects of TV, film, and literature. It may be difficult for first-time viewers, but if you like nuanced acting, excellent production values and complex plots, then this show is for you. Give it a miss if you’re strongly averse to gratuitous sex and nudity. Then again, it’s HBO, so what did you expect?

FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

n intense and challenging drama set in present day South Africa, Oliver Hermanus’ Beauty centres on a middle-aged family man struggling to resolve his contradictory desires. Francois, played by Deon Lotz, is an unrepentant racist and outwardly homophobic Afrikaner who secretly participates in homosexual orgies and develops an unhealthy obsession with the adult son of a family friend. This preoccupation quickly develops into full-blown stalking, as Francois’ barely maintained facade starts slipping away, with devastating consequence for both him and the object of his fixation. As much an in-depth character study as an examination of post-apartheid resentment and repression, Beauty fearlessly follows its central character’s downward spiral in all its gruesome detail. The assortment of hypocritical and unlikeable characters that populate the film–combined with Hermanus’ detached style–will likely be a turn off for many. But those who stick it out will find the films true strengths lie in its insightful, sensitive approach to contentious subject matter, achieved without ever stooping to cheap sensationalism. Anchored by a strong central performance, Beauty is unrelenting in its haunting depiction of the darker aspects of human nature. Beauty is in cinemas from 2 August.

ELLA DYSON

NICOLE MORALEDA

WHY I WILL NEVER TIRE OF ROLE PLAYING GAMES CAITLIN BEECH on an unfairly treated genre.

t’s not uncommon in recent years to be struck with a certain sense of deja vu when loading up the latest fantasy role playing game (RPG). The opening cut scene begins and gamers are introduced, yet again, to a formerly peaceful land that has been overrun with some dark scourge or another, and you, yes only you, (because you are very, very special) may rid the realm of this apocalyptic threat. An awkward segue introduces the character design section where you choose your race (human or elf ), your class (mage, warrior or rogue), and your characters’ name (something either suitably medieval or hilariously inappropriate, depending on your personal inclination). A series of sliders allow you to customise every detail of your avatar’s appearance, and just when you’re satisfied with the exact curvature of their brow, a helmet gets plonked on their carefully designed head and away we go again. You might assume from this rather flippant analysis that I am not such a fan of the genre. This is not the case. I love fantasy RPGs. There is nothing I enjoy more than spending hours exploring every single customisation option and agonising over the benefits afforded to wood elves as opposed to dark elves. In my opinion there is no such thing as too many hair, eye colour or facial tattoo options. By the time the game actually starts I am already heavily invested in my character; in a medium that so often fails to provide relatable characters for women, this is a very special feeling indeed. I love that moment after the initial cut scene finishes and your character is first let loose in the game with nothing but the promise of adventure and an expansive world stretching out into the horizon. However, not everyone shares my special affection for the genre. Critics often cannot overcome the formulaic aspects of a Western fantasy RPG in order to give it a fair and serious critique. Part of the problem lies in the terminology used to describe the attributes of such a game. The term ‘fantasy’ has always been problematic in both games

I love that moment after the initial cut scene finishes and your character is first let loose in the game with nothing but the promise of adventure and an expansive world stretching out into the horizon. and literature. Fantasy seems to imply endless possibilities and limitless scope for different characters and environments. But the truth is, fantasy as a genre has come to mean something very specific, and games that aim to fall within it need to include certain elements and follow certain trends. Like zombie games or first person shooters, the fantasy RPG is a genre that builds upon existing traditions and lore, and adds something new with each addition. Criticising a fantasy game for including dragons and elves is like criticising a zombie game for including zombies; they are an integral part of the genre. As I handed my last assignment in at the end of this semester, I couldn’t wait to get home and finally start Dragon’s Dogma. I knew what a time sink it was going to be, so I had resisted playing it until I had finished my assessments and had the luxuriant amount of free time that such a game demanded. I loaded the disk and watched the opening scene. A swarm of harpies and grotesque monsters spew from a darkened sky to besiege the formerly peaceful kingdom of Gransys. The screen darkens and cuts to the character edit screen where I create a redheaded avatar named Luna who sports a scar over one white eye. When Luna awakes in a fishing village swearing revenge on an evil dragon that has eaten her heart, I feel the familiar tug of adventure that only a fantasy game can stir. I take up my bow, gather my party and enter into the unknown.

NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN REVIEW BY JAMES MADDEN

aving awkwardly discovered a lump on his testicle during a sexual act, Jonah (Ryan Kwanten) is quickly thrust into the doctor’s office to hear some difficult news. I know what you’re thinking. And no, this is not an Australian attempt at Jonathan Levine’s 50/50. While cancer comedies are in vogue, Peter Templeton’s directorial debut (with a screenplay from Michael Lucas) steers away from the predictable and heads into the romantic comedy genre. Given only a short time before treatment that will most likely leave him sterile, Jonah searches for a suitable mother to spawn his offspring. Haphazardly negotiating his way through embarrassing encounters, Jonah is helped by his housemate Stevie (Sarah Snook). Though she’s not interested in motherhood, the cinematic cupid-like gods serendipitously change that and send the two friends into new territory. Not Suitable for Children works as a grown-up comedy for twenty-somethings. Excess initially surrounds their partygoing lifestyle, but logically changes with the diagnosis. Both serious and playful in tone, the film admirably throws in a decent amount of sex scenes. Kwanten is fine as Jonah, but relative newcomer Sarah Snook steals the show with warmth, wit and vulnerability.

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Not Suitable for Children is in cinemas now.

Six Australian Acts to Make Time For. THOMAS ABILDGAARD DETAILS SIX NEW ACTS YOU SHOULD CATCH BEFORE THEY’RE HUGE Smashing Pumpkins

Oceania REVIEW BY NATHAN GARDNER

Oliver Tank

Francolin Francolin sound like a version of Neutral Milk Hotel on some real mellow anti-depressants and honey to soothe the vocal chords. There is really no excuse not to get down to some awful bar in Fitzroy to drink expensive watery beer and see them play, as they are from right here in sunny olde Melbourne town. Unless you have no legs, in which case I completely understand—those places are not renowned for having great accessibility. Francolin have just released their debut full length Won’t Let You Down, which is available for download from bandcamp and in physical copies.

Coming out of that hellhole people keep calling Sydney, Oliver Tank keeps getting compared to Bon Iver. This comparison is unfair, as Oliver Tank doesn’t have a beard, and hasn’t sold his soul to Phil Collins. His aptly, while incredibly unoriginally, titled Dreams EP possesses a trance-like haze devoid of the bombast that plagues Bon Iver’s latest releases. Oliver Tank is quieter and gentler, like a Marmoset on percodan. Dreams is available for purchase through Yes Please Records in both digital and vinyl formats. Look out for shows nationwide.

Gold Bloom

Remi Australian hip hop that doesn’t make you want to curl up in a disgusting ball of shame and cultural cringe is a rare and beautiful thing. Here is the antidote to all that Hilltop bullshit. Remi’s brand of hip hop owes a lot to greats like Raekwon and J Dilla and, unlike his contemporaries, expresses an understanding of what makes for engaging hip hop. A feat he manages without squirming and gushing all over the altar of US hip hop like some embarrassing 11 year old decked out in polyester Wu-tang lies. Remi has an album out entitled Regular People Shit which is available through bandcamp in both digital downloads and physical copies. Check out some of his shows around Melbourne.

Gold Bloom are an all girl four-piece out of Adelaide pedalling garage-pop that outshines much of their competition. I was going to compare them to Vivian Girls and the Dum Dum Girls, who operate in much the same arena, but I realised that was a copout, so let’s just say they’re fantastic. Their vocal harmonies on their single Stalactites—available for purchase on bandcamp—are really strange, and I don’t mean Pee-wee Herman-esque sex offender strange, good strange like watching a cat watch possums having sex. Sadly, Gold Bloom reside in Adelaide, the murder capital of the nation, so perhaps we will never get to see them play another show in Melbourne.

Manor Le Fox Le Fox are three young sheepherders from the Mornington Peninsula sticks, and they make loud music for young men to dance aggressively to while angrily repressing something. You know, like all post-hardcore. But this, this is really great. It would be worth going to a Le Fox gig just to see lead guitarist Neil Cabatingan noodle around on his tiny mustang by himself for an hour or two, the guys is a freak—are you allowed to use the word freak these days? I can’t keep up. Le Fox have a single available for download through bandcamp called Secretariat and, although they are on a break, watch out for gigs around Melbourne coming up soon.

The core two-piece of Manor are Nathaniel Morse and Caitlin Duff both of Fire! Santa Rosa, Fire!, and in contrast to their main band Manor make music with considerable space for their instruments to breathe and for the vocals to come to the foreground. They draw on influences ranging from those Beach Boys melodies that make you cry to more contemporary animal-themed acts such as Grizzly Bear and Animal Collective. Thankfully there are no animals to be found here, just really great pop tunes. Manor and their parent band have recently— and wisely—relocated from Adelaide to Melbourne, so watch out for shows in all the typical dives where you can make out with sloppy girls in ugly grandma knits who are thinking about Jason Schwartzman.

FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

he Smashing Pumpkins’ new ‘album within an album’, Oceania, heralds a return to form in some ways, but still strays from expectations. Conceding that the ongoing 44-track concept album, Teargarden by Kaleidyscope, was not delivering a “penetration into everybody that I would have hoped”, the seminal (and sole surviving original) member of the band, Billy Corgan, has worked with his latest line-up to create a comparatively conventional and collaborative offering. The brash guitars and rugged drumming of the album’s opening tracks demonstrate the potential of this latest incarnation to uphold the Smashing Pumpkins’ mantle, yet still fall somewhat short. The subsequent tracks are also underwhelming. Individually the songs offer nothing bad, but are nonetheless unmemorable. Consequently, and especially due to Oceania consciously avoiding pushing forward any one track as a single, the overall feel of the finished product is mundane. Admittedly the production values are flawless, and the overt synth-pop conventions of the album (such as the track ‘One Diamond, One Heart’) show they have a finger on the pulse of modern music. But then again, would you expect any less from such a well-to-do and long-established musician as Corgan? Despite the album’s nuances emerging with repeated listens, my gripes remain the same. Namely, the lyrics come off as insincere and contrived, and the melodies and hooks that are indeed catchy become lost amongst lolling, grandiose motifs or self-serving musicianship. In the end, Oceania is not great, but not altogether shit. Much more than a ‘middle-of-the-road experience’ is expected from the Smashing Pumpkins.

NEW RELEASES WITH THOMAS ABILDGAARD

Opossom

Electric Hawaii REVIEW BY HANDE CERKEZ

Hot Chip

In Our Heads Hot Chip stand as the best live band I’ve seen to date, a feat managed despite the horrible scum hole of cheap Mexican beer and very young looking trollops known as Billboard. Coming only two years after One Life Stand, In Our Heads tops it in song writing and I’m sure it probably will in album sales too, but only people who should be introduced to Boy George’s hooker dungeon care about that nonsense. What I’m trying to say is, this is great, just real great. People usually associate Hot Chip with electro but thankfully, electro is long dead, along with all those horrible garish sneakers someone made us all wear, and Hot Chip were always a little too good for that whole embarrassing business anyway. Hot Chip have made pop music informed by dance music something to give two fucks about.

Patti Smith

Banga I’ll be honest, I haven’t listened to a whole lot of Patti Smith, but I was expecting something a little more substantial... not soft rock for middle aged women to read erotic literature to. I feel like someone is about to light some incense and tell me about my chakras, before going off to stress about their middle class problems. Sheesh, “where are you going”, “Come be my April fool”, “wake up”, if that is Patti Smith getting ‘real’ with us, I don’t think I can take anymore of the damn cliches. Apparently it’s all inspired by people like the Italian explorer Amerigo Vespucci and birthday songs for Johnny Depp, but it sounds a hell of a lot like bad poetry on top of guitars with stupid ethereal reverbs and wind chimes. If I listen to too much more of this I think I’m gonna feel like watching that awful movie about witches with Sandra Bullock.

New Zealand’s Opossom seem to have us all in a bit of a delightful conundrum when it comes to the their debut album, Electric Hawaii. Is it soft rock, postpunk, experimental indie or heavy soul psych? Well fans, it is none. Opossom have managed to blend these elements and produce their very own genre to accompany this sweet first album. The vocals are somewhat reminiscent of a ‘50s boy band, but with a hint of electric synth beats that bring us back to the present—back to a modern and catchy album. With just a sip of this psychedelic pop/rock infused concoction of reverbed vocals

and electric grooves, you’re put into a trippy mind-altering trance. That being the case, you should avoid driving whilst listening to ‘Inhaler Song’. A 40 second interlude of scattershot calamity will have you questioning the functionality of your music device, until of course you realize it was Opossom all along. Despite the awkward lull, the lo-fi sonic vocals and synth pop beats are cohesively arranged to sooth your ears and just upbeat enough to make your body want to dance awkwardly. Opossom’s non-stop grooves and infectious pop hooks make it a powercharged winner.

John Mayer

Born and Raised REVIEW BY NATHAN GARDNER

Neil Young & Crazy Horse

Metric

Americana

Synthetica

Neil Young still hasn’t learnt how to play a guitar like a human being, which is a very good thing. For the most part, this album is awesome, I was expecting middle of the road, partial-country music for old men to nod to in their SUVs whilst driving to mediocre jobs. Fortunately, this album is anything but. Young and Crazy Horse have done an American Songbook thing—but not like your Grandmother’s masturbation fodder Mr. Rod Stewart does—this is an Americana Songbook, with old folk songs made good and dark. I have it on good authority that the leading track is great to dance to naked in your friend’s kitchen. That said, since this is something of a covers album, it very predictably doesn’t gel in some places. A glaring example of this is in the closer, God Save the Queen, which just makes me feel real awkward. Right then, you remember that this guy making an Americana folk album, yeah, he’s Canadian.

This album has Lou Reed on it, and even after the Killers that is more than enough for me to care. According to Metric’s lead singer Emily Haines the album is about the dialectic between “what is real versus what is artificial”, and frankly I’m getting really sick of having this conversation over and over again in my philosophy classes as it is. No-one needs some Canadian synth-pop lady reiterating this nonsense. Computers are great. I mean, sure they might be altering our thought structures and behaviour patterns, with the result that we might not know our neighbours and are all borderline agoraphobic narcissists with a penchant for tentacle sex, but who is anyone to say that that is a bad thing? Other than the awful theme, this sounds quite a lot like last year’s Class Actress album, and a lot like a whole lot of other electro-pop acts I’ve come across in the past. It’s okay... I just won’t be listening to it ever again.

John Mayer’s last album, Battle Studies, was a singular mishap. He pushed his usually delightful guitar-pop to a new level of cheesiness. Conversely, his fifth studio album, Born and Raised, is his most interesting work to date. Where his first three albums were hallmarks of quality electric guitar-based pop, Mayer has opted for an acoustic-folk aesthetic this time round. Indeed, he now dons long hair beneath a cowboy hat and sings Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young harmonies—so long to the preppy Mayer of old. Though he has redefined his image with each new record, there is substance and integrity to this change. Born and Raised is by no means his greatest record, and might even infuriate some fans, but it is his most important, as it certifies his song-writing talent and stylistic diversity. Previously, Mayer had always relied on his technical talent, jazzifying blues and pop tunes attractively with farragomagazine.com

ornate guitar acrobatics. Here, the ‘bones’ of his song-craft are showcased. A musical rule of thumb is: if it works acoustically it will work electrically. Mayer follows this meticulously, and both electric and acoustic tracks work. Songs such as the “The Age of Worry”, “Speak For Me”, “Born and Raised” and “Love is a Verb” are stand-out examples of his tight song-writing and quality production. Mayer’s finest albums—Heavier Things and Continuum—might never be matched again, hence the importance of musical development and maturity. There is nothing deep or profound on this record—the lyrics are often trite and the melodies mundane—but it does signify a whole new direction for this immensely talented singer-songwriter. This album will surely divide Mayer fans, but for now, it is an easy, effortless listen for the broader music community.

NICOLE MORALEDA

CHRISTOPHER FIELDUS runs through the upcoming theatre of semester two.

UPCOMING PRODUCTIONS

ith another semester and another season of innovative student theatre, it can be tough to pick the shows you really need to see—I spoke with a number of student directors about their upcoming productions and top picks for the semester ahead. Director of FLW’s The History Boys, Angus Cameron, aims to combine naturalistic performances with an unrealistic design. Typical of the company, the set promises to be a real treat: he’s hoping for a “patchwork of blackboards” hung around the Guild Theatre to create a timeless, placeless space, with the Boys shifting boxes around a floor covered in chalk as they build their own world. Casey Bradley and Georgina Barley shall co-direct Melbourne University Shakespeare Company’s Macbeth. “We plan to reinvigorate Shakespeare’s famous tragedy of murder, corruption and unchecked ambition...Macbeth as you know it, but with more bite, more blood and more brutality and are excited to be given the chance to realise some of our speculative imaginings, both from a visual and a metaphysical point of view.” Prolific director, Tabby Catchpole, continues her emergence into semi-professional theatre with Four Letter Word Theatre’s Speak English or Die at La Mama. Catchpole will bring to life the story of Ali, a Lebanese Muslim raised in Australia, and Mouché, an Australian woman and ardent Atheist. “An incredible script stabilised on real-life pure attraction and the glimmering moments of love which dissipate as quickly as they are founded.” For Trinity College, Catchpole will also direct And Then There Were None. Described as “not your average Agatha Christie murder mystery”, it features an ensemble of women representing the Ten Little Indians from the poem—the title’s source—and styled after the Weeping Angels of Doctor Who. Apart from their own, which productions are they most excited to see on campus? Each director mentioned Ormond College’s Spring Awakening. Always a favourite, Bradley is looking forward to experiencing its “killer rock-infused score and wonderfully complex characters” on stage. For Cameron, an attempt to stage the musical last year whetted his appetite and now he can’t wait to see how Ormond

College tackle the ambitious production. In addition to this popular musical, there are two original musicals being staged in Union Theatre: UHT’s 1938: An Opera from Fregmonto Stokes, the writer of 2008’s Melbourne Model: The Musical; and tROC’s Zombie! Of 1938, Cameron says that he expects that the multiculturalism of the show will mean a powerful collaboration of student theatre companies. Another anticipated production is Queen’s College’s Fawlty Towers, directed by Ben Sheen (director of Chatroom and assistant director of A Clockwork Orange). The show will incorporate a number of classic moments from the TV series, reworked as a play. Other events to watch out for include the Melbourne University Theatre Gala—a free event celebrating the past 75 years of student theatre at the University of Melbourne—and the 2012 Law Revue, marking the 30th anniversary of Working Dog’s first law revue: “a perfect excuse to make this year’s revue the biggest and best yet.” Many off-campus productions are also generating excitement. MTC’s Queen Lear has been eagerly awaited. Barley is intrigued to see what Robyn Nevin brings to the title character, as it is a challenging role for either gender, and all four directors agree Nevin will deliver a must-see performance. Cameron is looking forward to seeing Catchpole’s Speak English or Die, starring the University’s own Danny Ball (director of The Apartment) and Georgia Kelly. The pair is reunited on stage after performing together in last year’s Closer and the 2010 ThInc production of The Pitchfork Disney. Award winning playwright Declan Greene (Rageboy and Moth), a University alumnus, will open his new play Pompeii, L.A at the Malthouse Theatre in November. Having been in the audience for the reading at fortyfivedownstairs, Cameron says he is excited to see how the script, with its strange stage directions, is translated onto the stage. Greene is UHT’s Writer-inResidence this semester and will conduct a range of workshops and activities, including a regular writing group and a DIY Theatre workshop at the Courthouse, La Mama on 8 September. With so much to see, there’s no excuse not to immerse yourself in theatre this semester.

FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

Queen Lear Melbourne Theatre Comany 7 July—18 August at The Sumner Theatre The Melbourne University Theatre Gala July 26 from 2.00—10.00pm The History Boys FWL 1—11 August at The Guild Theatre Zombie! tROC’ 1—4 August at Union Theatre Speak English or Die Four Letter Word Theatre 9—19 August at La Mama Theatre Spring Awakening Ormond College 15—18 August at Union House Theatre And Then There Were None Trinity College 12—15 September at The Guild Theatre 1938: An Opera Union House Theatre 4—6 and 10—13 October at Union Theatre Macbeth Melbourne University Shakespeare Company 7—13 October at The Guild Theatre Pompeii, L.A. 16 November—9 December at The Malthouse.

Stage Kissing 101

REVIEWS

Clancy Moore

ny budding young actor is inevitably going to have to master one particular skill. You can have inspirational presence, poignant characterisation, or as magnificent physicalisation as you like, but sooner or later there is one thing you’ll be required to do: Give a damn good kiss. It can be a daunting task for some, but if approached the right way, can create a highly believable and impressive performance. Here are a few handy tips to go about it:

PRODUCTION:

Queen Lear REVIEW BY:

Bernd Bartl

n 1875, Karl Marx wrote a critique of a proposed worker’s party platform. In it, he asserted that it is only when the final stage of a freely and fully co-operative communist society had been achieved, that the operating principle of labour and mutual care would be: “To each according to their ability, from each according to their needs.” Compare this with the words of Gloucester to his wrongfully disowned and hunted son in Queen Lear (first performed as King Lear in 1606): Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens’ plagues Have humbled to all strokes. That I am wretched Makes thee the happier. Heavens, deal so still. Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man, That slaves your ordinance, that will not see Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly. So distribution should undo excess, And each man have enough. (Act IV, scene i) The language of this speech is difficult and, fortunately, much of Shakespeare is easier to follow. The ‘slaving of the heavens’ ordinance’ is suggesting that the superfluous (greedy and excessive) and lust-dieted (lustful) human, makes heavens’ intended order a slave to human desires. Arguably, the person who “will not see/ Because he doth not feel”, or at least does not feel properly and deeply, is the nerve of Shakespeare’s concern in this play. A pivotal concern is feeling properly and thus perceiving rightly, with the interplay of love, desire and the natural providing the weave which holds together the fabric of the play. From an aristocratic character in King Lear to Karl Marx: Shakespeare can speak across temporal and cultural gaps and addresses perennial human concerns. It seems that bridging the gap in language and setting can only be attempted with rigorous, stark, exposition of the intense emotionality and raw corporeality which informs Shakespeare’s writing. Unfortunately this production of Queen Lear fails to achieve this.

JEFF BUSBY

There has been considerable publicity around the change in sex of the central protagonist. In this production, direction and dramaturgy are by Rachel MacDonald, Lear is played by leading Australian actress Robyn Nevin. The change in sex, in my view, is irrelevant. Nevin plays Lear with conviction, at times with real, fluid authority, but the setting and the interplay with others prevents the performance from soaring. For example, toward the conclusion of the play she brings the loyal Cordelia’s body on stage on what appears to be a hospital-style trolley, covered by a blanket. The effect is to diminish the laceration of the heart that this scene can evoke; despite the cry of anguish clearly sounding into the theatre’s space prior to the trolley coming into sight. Instead, a ramshackle, small, beggar’s cart, with no covering of the body, may well have been better transport for the beloved daughter’s body. A change from Shakespeare’s original that is considerably more significant than that of Lear’s sex is the decision to turn the court fool into a kind of ghostly waif. The production note explains: “Our production further explores psychological disunity through the character of the Fool, who is a voice living inside Lear, a projection of some unreconciled part of her own psyche, sent from the underworld.” A voice from a whiteclad girl, with reverberating echo, is neither evocative of blunt truth. Much of the acting displays good theatre craft, with Gloucester (Richard Piper) and Edmund (David Paterson) standing out for embodying their characters, in addition to Nevin. The set has an intrusive series of chains hanging from the ceiling on either side of the stage, which end in a small coil on the floor. Two or three of the chains serve a kind of purpose at some time; but the remaining chains, the op-shop kitsch large picture which descends as background, and several other aspects of the set convey no clear meaning. Queen Lear is playing at the Sumner Theatre until 18 August.

Get into character. It may seem obvious but the more you’re aware of your character and the motivation behind the kiss, the more believable it will be. I mean if you think about it, the characters themselves probably want to kiss, so even if you don’t (you prude), just let the character shine through and you’ll be in the clear. Don’t overuse your hands. Not in a ‘don’t grope the other actor’ way, but in a ‘you’re not monkeys in a zoo’ kind of way. Don’t get too into it, unless that’s what the scene demands, of course. Make your face the center of the action! No tongue. I know, I know, call me a killjoy and throw me to the sharks, but it’s more trouble than it’s worth. Eating the other actor’s face just makes the audience uncomfortable and ruins the make up that some poor stagehand has spent ages putting on. Plus, if you get it just right (and with a decent amount of practice of course), you can make any kiss look passionate and romantic. Start slow. To overcome nervousness and to try and make it look confident and steamy, actors will often dive into a kiss at speed. This is not the right way to go. It’s not a race. If you come at it too quick it rarely looks believable, and always looks uncomfortable. Instead, savour the build up and move in slowly. The actual point of contact is by far the most powerful point of any kiss, so make sure the audience notices it! Don’t get sick. Bit of a side note this one, but your acting partner will never forgive you if you give them some kind of debilitating head cold. A very good way to start a fight… trust me. Don’t be nervous. I know it sounds obvious, almost stupidly so, but it really is the most important thing. Odds are you enjoy acting if you find yourself in this situation, and odds are you enjoy kissing because we’re all human, so why be nervous about an opportunity to do both! Make it a performance, and showcase your kissing brilliance!

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Books. CAN’T STOP THE BEAT BY ZOE KINGSLEY

n 1971, Beat poet Lew Welch disappeared into the Sierra Nevada mountains, shotgun in hand. 42 years on, the celebrated San Franciscan City Lights Booksellers has published a revised version of his Ring of Bone poetry collection, much to the anticipation of poetry readers across the globe. A lost poet amongst an iconic generation of American writers, Welch’s continued acclaim affirms the resurgence of nostalgia for Beat authors and their works. The consistent appeal of Beat literature is partially indebted to the autobiographical content of the writings, which has continued to fascinate successive generations of readers. The paradoxical spiritual hedonism of the group of writers, who experimented with amphetamines for faster typing, and LSD for truer poetic visions, outraged conservatives of the ’50s and contributed to the progressive counter-culture movement of the ’60s. Jack Kerouac’s On the Road continues to ingrain some metaphorical seed of yearning—a yearning to hit the road, bottle in hand, with only the clothes on your back and a romanticized minimalist outlook. The novel has become a university student cliché, not that there is actually anything wrong with that. The lack of distance between the writer and their work, a revolutionary notion formulated between the poets of that generation, has resulted in a perverse phenomenon decades later, where documentation of the writers has been eclipsed by detached adaptations of their works. This is shown in the upcoming biopic Kill Your Darlings, starring Daniel Radcliffe as a young Allen Ginsberg, which is based upon the killing of David Kammerer—an event that

embroiled the emerging group of Beat writers in the mid-forties. Despite the Beat writers’ appeal as cultural revolutionaries of their time, their relevance to an all-consuming Gen Y audience remains elusive. One argument is the search for essentialism in a technology-dependent society— the idea of taking off your suit and ‘returning to the wild’ despite its clichéd earnestness. What cannot be ignored is a cyclical tendency to romaticise previous generations of writers. The current generation of readers is at a stage of history where a divine potential for nostalgia can be harnessed—the purity of the Beat Generation is familiar, but distant enough to be mythologised. Many Beat writers underwent the same process—Ginsberg reveled in the prophecies of a nineteenth century Walt Whitman; just as Kerouac imitated, before realizing his own voice, the style of Thomas Wolfe. In addition to the 2010 semianimated adaption of Howl and Kill Your Darlings, film adaptations of Kerouac’s On the Road and Big Sur are awaiting release. Whether these adaptations are a result of a fixation upon the fashion and social mores of the mid-twentieth century, as further reflected by the likes of influential period drama Mad Men, is a another question. What remains reassuring in light of any cynicism is the republication and recognition of Lew Welch’s Ring of Bone, and the knowledge that there are those who still revel in and demand that particular jazz beat in prose. Ring of Bone, with its splatter of doodles and ditties, mantras and music manuscripts, reveals the intimate, not just the grandiose. It is art imitating life in pure syncopated form. FARRAGO FARRAGO——EDITION EDITIONFOUR FIVE 2012 2012

Interview: Josephine Rowe VICKY SMITH talks corn with Melbourne writer and poet Josephine Rowe Farrago: How did you begin writing? Josephine Rowe: The first thing that I had published was a poem, and I never actually submitted that. I definitely wouldn’t have had the guts to submit anything back then—it was my brother-in-law. He’s a short story writer as well, Neil Boyack, so I was nervous because I had respect for his writing. Without me knowing, he submitted it to Overland, and called me to say that they’d accepted it. I said great, what’s Overland? At that stage I was completely oblivious to what kind of opportunities were out there. F: Yet your first collection East of Here, Close to Water was self-published, which would have taken a lot of guts. R: [laughs] A lot of chutzpah. I’d actually had interest in my work, but what I really wanted to do was this really tiny collection of tiny stories, and I had a very fixed idea of how I wanted it to look. More than anything else it was really about creative control. F: While you were working on your latest collection Tarcutta Wake you took part in the International Writers Program in Iowa… R: Iowa is famous for two things really, it’s famous for corn and it’s famous for writers. Also soybeans! I think they produce a lot of those as well. But particularly writers and corn. F: Maybe that’s what you do if you’re surrounded by corn and soybeans. So how did the program work? R: There were around thirtyseven writers from thirty-five different countries. We all had our own projects to squirrel ourselves away with, and we would come downstairs at happy hour and it would be this incredible table full of great thinkers sharing YouTube clips … then you would have dinner with a Nobel laureate or you’d be flown off to another part of the country to speak to a university. It would just be ridiculous opportunity after ridiculous opportunity. F: Do you think being on the program influenced Tarcutta Wake? R: I’d been writing stories that were placeless, I guess as a

means of accessibility. If it wasn’t grounded anywhere and my characters didn’t have names or genders or ages anybody could step in and inhabit that space. While I was in Iowa, looking out the window at the Iowa River and the squirrels, I found myself writing a lot about Australia, and very specific parts of Australia. F: Are you a full time writer at the moment? R: I have been, but the moment I work in a bookshop. It’s been called the perfect writer job. You’re around people that love literature and it’s work that you can leave at work, it doesn’t take up too much creative energy. F: Is it a matter of saving up to be a full time writer sometimes? R: Actually, Meg Mundell put it in beautiful words—the thing about a writer is if they get a little windfall… most people think ok what can I buy with this, whereas a writer will say how much time can I buy with this. I pretty much just take things as they come. I’m a short story writer. Can never think beyond the end of the next story. F: God, imagine being a novelist! R: Six years on one subject. Six years on one subject and then a bunch of people say why did this take you six years? A longer version of this interview can be found on our website. Tarcutta Wake is available from 30 July from UQP.

ILLUSTRATION BY MAX DENTON

FEATURES

reflections on FARRAGO PRESENTS

THE STATE OF JOURNALISM with

TRACIE WINCH JESS O’CALLAGHAN GEIR O’ROURKE DR. PAUL GRUBA

ith staffing cuts, downsizing and reorganisation at both News Limited and Fairfax, print media seems to be choking to death on its own vomit. Alongside the resignations of editors at The Sydney Morning Herald, The Age and The Herald Sun and Gina Rinehart’s grab for power on the Fairfax board, fears are raised that quality journalism and editorial independence may be suffocated. We are currently witnessing the most significant changes to our media landscape in a generation. A journalist, media student, editor and academic reflect on the state of the press. Art and cover by Puya Aflatoun, with illustrations by Max Denton

FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

With increasingly concentrated media ownership, will our national conversation be dominated a few self-serving rich people? TRACIE WINCH

Freelance writer, former ABC journalist and producer, and journalism lecturer.

rab a piece of paper and scribble down the names of those who you think dominate our national conversation. Not necessarily our big thinkers or intellectuals, because many of these wouldn’t get a look in and wouldn’t want to anyway, but those who make a significant contribution in deciding what we think about, talk about, debate or consider important. Ok, let’s compare. I came up with Andrew Bolt; Robert Manne; perhaps a clutch of ABC personalities such as Tony Jones, Fran Kelly and due to her omnipresence, Annabel Crabb; for the older demographic maybe News Ltd’s Paul Kelly and Fairfax’s Michelle Grattan. David Marr warrants inclusion. ABC boss Mark Scott would desperately like to be in the mix and certainly loves giving The Big Speech. Ditto our Glyn. George Megalogenis should probably be ordained as one of the smartest guys in the room but he occupies a strange piece of ‘good guy territory’ inside the evil Australian newspaper that effectively neuters him. All middle class, middle aged with a take on the world almost meaningless for anyone under 30. I wonder, then, how many of these names you had on your list? So the diversity and plurality of voices being prematurely mourned in the face of Gina’s grab for Fairfax or Rupert’s longterm monopoly of the Australian print media is misguided from the outset; particularly considering that unimaginative risk-averse editorsturned-managers have given many of these commentators voices across multiple platforms. They may not all be rich, or maybe they are compared to you and me, but some of them, just like the owners of their outlets, are self-serving. Yet, we tolerate their dominance in the public space because they are not the heads of large corporations and so somehow their power is more benign. Yes, I am playing devil’s advocate here, but I’m trying to find some perspective in this complex debate over ownership and what’s at stake. So let’s imagine Gina gets her way and takes hold of Fairfax. That will result in two conservative proprietors running Melbourne’s two daily newspapers, for example.

Will our national conversation then be dominated by the rich and powerful; by the media mates, the miners and climate change deniers? Well, no, because nobody is going to read the bloody things if that happens and given only a handful are now that would not be a particularly smart business decision even if Gina’s plan is to trash the Fairfax brand. In the new media landscape there are now other sources to go to, even if by default, and even if at this stage they lack the gravitas of the traditional media institutions they are replacing. This is not an insignificant point, because power plays in and of themselves are not necessarily a threat to democracy, but that’s assuming there are other reliable, unbiased sources of information as genuine alternatives. In Australia, I believe, that’s still a work in progress. Many do show their colours (and that includes Crikey) but at least alternatives do exist. We just desperately need more of them. Perhaps more frightening though is the subtle power a proprietor can wield—if you want overt examples then Google Murdoch + Leveson Inquiry. Most editorial interventions are subtle by nature, maybe not even at a conscious level, where subordinates learn to respond to or conform to owners’ ideas. The ultimate result is a distorted reality, particularly when it comes to opinion masquerading as fact in a news story. Or weight being given to a particular point of view at the expense of another; or omission of an important fact. “A newspaper should have no friends,” said Joseph Pulitzer. But almost all news media do have friends in powerful places, and on past performance I am not sure many of our current news editors have the bottle to stand up to a proprietor and say no. No prizes for guessing who dominates that particular conversation, signed charter or not. But, in the end, a debate about plurality and diversity and who holds the megaphones does not begin and end with who owns what. That’s far too simplistic. An equally large part hinges on creative, fearless editorial leadership, but perhaps that specimen is as relevant to modern media as the Gutenburg printing press.

Can journalism schools adequately prepare graduates for the realities of a rapidly changing journalism industry?

With mass media in crisis what role does the alternative press have in the new media landscape?

JESS O’CALLAGHAN A third year Media and Communications student.

he week before Fairfax and News Ltd announced that they would be dramatically scaling back the number of editorial staff they employ, I saw the ABC’s Managing Director Mark Scott speak at a Centre for Advanced Journalism event. He reminded the audience that journalism has never been an easy profession to get into. “The number of applicants to traineeships was always about 100 to 1—much the same as today. Of course, until recently, it was such a closed industry to get into—a handful of papers, a couple of TV and radio licences. Miss the opportunities to work in those places, you had nowhere else to go.” He admitted that it must be daunting, to be a journalism student watching all the changes to the industry and wondering whether there is any place for them. Daunting is a pretty apt word for it. As a third year Media and Communications student, I can vouch for the fact that we have spent much more time talking about how the industry is changing, and how hard we will find it to find employment, than we have grappling with practical ways to cope with these changes. If I’m lucky enough to get a job when I graduate next year, I want to feel as though I’ve learnt enough to do it really well. Five days after I saw Mark Scott speak—and left a little less daunted—Fairfax and News Ltd announced the scaling back of journalism jobs, the closing of printing presses, ‘compact’ editions and a reshuffle which would see a greater focus on online news. Gaining (understandably) less attention were the changes happening elsewhere, affecting the paths journalism students take into professional journalism. 2ser, Sydney’s community radio station, demonstrated the pitfalls of university funding for journalism, with the redundancy of their Talks Co-ordinator. Rave Magazine, a Brisbane street press publication, closed after 21 years. In 2010, there were 4,750 journalism students enrolled in Australian universities, and before the shake-ups at Fairfax and News Ltd, The Australian estimated

there were about 200 journalism jobs available. In the whole country. In a year. No doubt that number became even smaller on 18 June and the competition became even fiercer. Why are universities taking in so many journalism students if we’re unlikely to become journalists at the end of study? Well, we used to be quite cheap to educate. Writing doesn’t cost much, right? All we need is a pen and a notebook, maybe one of those fedoras with a card that says ‘News’ on it, and we’re good to go. For the amount of time I’ve spent sitting in a lecture theatre hearing about the seismic changes journalism is facing because of changing technologies, and about how we have to learn to adapt, the high costs of teaching future journalists about adapting to technology means we have gained very little practical advice about how to deal with the changes. It’s not for lack of trying by those designing the course. In the third year practical ‘Writing Journalism’ subject, for instance, there was a token ‘podcast’ assignment, which ambitiously required over 200 students to make their own audio package. But for all the talk about how we need all bases covered to get a job, how technology means we have to become great multi-taskers if we want to be a good journalist, teaching us these skills poorly is about as much help as not teaching them at all. We were told to download free applications if we had iPhones, try to cut things together on free software, and if we couldn’t record on a phone interview, we were able to have a friend read a transcript into our phones. For a course that cost $706, access to a computer lab with audio editing software would have been enough to make the whole exercise worthwhile, let alone a peek into the studio used to record University of Melbourne podcasts. Teaching us about the changes to journalism isn’t the same as preparing us for the changes to journalism. If there are going to be less journalists and we want to be one of them, we should at least be trained to be good at what we do.

GEIR O’ROURKE

2011 Farrago co-editor, philanthropist and editor of independent newspaper The Nose.

t the beginning of the year, a couple of friends and I started a little newspaper called The Nose. You should check it out. Our greatest motivation in starting the bastard was that we were sick of constantly whinging to one another about the state of the world, and especially journalism. Our main gripes were these: firstly, that the mainstream media was going broke and that we couldn’t get jobs (which everyone knows) and collapsing into the sort of pit where The Age was running stories about Masterchef on its front page. More importantly, despite all the talk about how great the internet (with Twitter and blogging) was for journalism, the alternative press is even worse. With a few notable exceptions, alternative media (both online and print) is increasingly just a low quality reflection of the big papers. Presumably because it’s (primarily) created by people who would much prefer to be writing for the mainstream media anyway. “Who are these wankers” we’d moan, “who are so interested in writing about food or artisanal trinkets?” Yet, the only surviving alternative media options were focused on promoting crap: either smug politics for morons or the aforementioned food and artisanal trinkets for morons. Take Melbourne Broadsheet, for example. According to their website, its founders “endeavour to keep you up to date with what’s going on around town and to cover, analyse and comment on it with intelligent and insightful writing, sharp photography and clear, clean, crisp design.” Fair enough—there are plenty of people out there who have failed so hard at life that they’d want to go somewhere recommended by the sort of breathing dungheaps who talk about crisp design or want to interview baristas, but Broadsheet isn’t an aberration. Put it alongside the Saturday Age and the only difference you’ll find is that it’s slightly smaller. The people who aren’t copying The Age are even worse. A couple of weeks ago, in a Fitzroy bookshop, I saw a magazine devoted entirely farragomagazine.com

to arty photos of people pissing. Crikey and other alternative news media publish some great stories, but how anyone can tolerate their smarmy self-righteousness and moralising is beyond me. We just couldn’t understand why these people found value in making the effort to create a new publication, only to fill it with content that can be found in the mainstream press. Except maybe they really were as head-on-table boring as they looked. We were wrong, though, and your parents were right. It comes down to money. As we quickly discovered, money-grubbing destroys your soul and your journalism. When my friends and I got together to plan what would be in The Nose, we thought that the best thing would be to fill it with things we wanted to read—that we weren’t able to find anywhere else—and in a format in that we found cool. This primarily revolved around nasty, spiteful jokes about people and things we didn’t like, vicious journalism, and book reviews. Yes, the paper is extremely negative, but the whole thing was actually a lot more idealistic than a paper completely given over to advertorial—like foodie streetpress Gram. (Gram are actually real dickheads who steal all their content from people’s blogs, often without asking beforehand.) The heart of the issue is that journalism is actually really fucking expensive. At The Nose, we’d hoped to create a paper where the journalism took centre stage, but I spend far more time trying to sell ads, or washing dishes for cash. For this reason, Gina Rinehart buying out Fairfax might not end up as such a bad thing after all. News Ltd. subsidises The Australian with cash from its tabloids. When you look at it, The Age can’t actually get any worse. Who knows? With Gina paying the bills, they might even be able to afford to publish journalism again. In short, you’re all screwed unless you start buying The Nose and make us rich enough to do what we want. I’d rather work in the mines than recommend tea cosies to librarians or write a sex column with my mum, so you can trust me.

In a decade, what will our news look like and how reliable can it be? DR. PAUL GRUBA Senior lecturer in linguistics and applied linguists at the University of Melbourne.

hen I was in high school, we used to play a game: Instant Nostalgia. You can imagine what the joke was, and the game went something like this—two minutes after an event, we would wax lyrical to make things seem particularly remarkable. “Remember that great lunch …”, my friend would say, “You know, that time we could just sit around with our stale sandwiches and talk about the friends we had?” And the punch line, always, was: Why wait to be sentimental? These days, so much news seems like Instant Nostalgia. Somewhere, something happens and it’s often presented with a feeling of sentimentality about it. “Remember…”, the reporters say, “when those boats went down and the politicians struggled to form policy?” Now, as the lumbering mainstream media tells us of events that we already know, the act of reading and watching newspapers and televisions reminds us that the joke is on us: Why, indeed, do we wait to be sentimental? In a decade, when all of those three twos and one zero show up in a single date—2022—the game of Instant Nostalgia will be well and truly finished. No more waiting to be sentimental. ‘Everything, all the time’, we will collectively cry out, ‘and the news must be new!’ The techno-dream is a vision of being wired and mobile, of being social and involved, of being Up.To.The.Minute. Better aware and informed, technologies will be transformative to our conversations and understandings of the complex worlds and societies and events. Ah, but Marshall McLuhan reminds us: “We drive into the future using only our rear view mirror.” Remember when we sat

around the television in groups and talked? Remember having to share the broadcast spectrum at set times, and to see channels and programs we didn’t like? Remember flipping through newspapers and finding opinions that challenged us? Increasingly, our news consumption is individual, narrow and designed to meet our views. That is, we read only what we want to read, we access only what we want to access, we take only what we want to take at times that suit our individual schedules. Our friends, spread across social networks, recommend sources that they think we will like. We do the same: You will like this, we seem to signal to each other, as it re-enforces our identities. People like us consume stuff like this; people like us have opinions like this; people like us spend our time like this. People like us like people like us. You know where I’m going with this, don’t you? In the future—in two minutes, in a month, in a decade—we increasingly run the risk of Never Being Challenged. I mean, not really. Less and less, I avoid the possibility that I might post or write or create things that Are Not Liked. If those Facebook thumbs don’t go up in quantity, and I don’t get responses in the two or three figures from an Instagram, or my Tweets fail to be Retweeted, I go a bit more quiet. Controversial? Provocative? Not me—I remember the risk: Be Liked, Be Friends or Be Gone. So the 2022 media, for those with unlimited access to the Techno-Dream, will be Everything All The Time. Customized. Individual. Friend filtered. Preliked. And reliable as the taste of a stale sandwich at a high school lunch meeting. Remember when you used to read Farrago? FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

The Hun Mole:

Notes From A Tabloid Newsroom BY ANONYMOUS

Like many journalism students at Melbourne universities, I participated in an internship as a part of my degree. Like a few journalism students at Melbourne universities, I had a pretty horrific time. The corporation I visited for two weeks was a widely read newspaper that shall be henceforth referred to as The Hun. The internship was supposed to reveal the inner workings of my chosen profession and to inspire me in my future career path. If this is the case, I may as well kiss my journalism career goodbye.

On the first day of my placement, senior journalists and the editor of The Hun reviewed a piece about an overweight man who was endeavoring to lose 200kg through hypnosis. Comments in the news conference included “Of course he’s fat, look at what he eats” and “How does someone let that happen?” On the second day, I overheard a conversation with a senior journalist mocking the grief of the friend of a wellknown footballer who had recently passed away. Similarly, a photographer at the press conference dismissed my concerns that he was taking photos of underage people, saying, “they should be older.” These photos, however, were not published in the final edit. On the fifth day, at The Sunday Hun news conference, a female journalist bizarrely insisted that an article debating the benefits of chocolate should be written by a female: “A woman needs to say chocolate is good.” She then went on to say that a science piece should be cut, commenting, “Women will glaze over—space and history—you’ll lose half your readership.” The editor did not disagree. On the sixth day, a senior journalist sitting across from me repeatedly made transphobic comments to a peer who was discussing a potential story on a trans person with him. His remarks included, “He? She? It?” “There has to be a photo of it” and “You should put the heading—‘My Life As A She-Man!’ or ‘G-Boy.’” No one in the newsroom reacted. On the seventh day, I was asked to write a story about pigs being used to test breast augmentation in a “humorous” tone. I found the proposition absurd and informed my superior that I felt the story was essentially government funded animal cruelty. His response: “You don’t mind if I buxom bacon it up? It’s worth is just so we can use the phrase ‘perky porkers.’” The story did not end up going to print. The senior journalist opposite me moved from transphobia to homophobia on the eighth day, commenting on a recent piece on gay marriage. “Why are they [the gay community] making such a fuss? It’s been

this way for millennia, why change now?” Although he had a right to state an opinion, the blatant sense of entitlement and privilege in the room was palpable. A few minutes later, he joked to the chief-of-staff about a recent article on Catholic priests opposed to gay marriage: “It’s good to have the Catholics in the news with no pedophilia; although I guess there’s still sex and gays.” Throughout the week, I was consistently subjected to patronising attitudes, being referred to as ‘Little Bud’, ‘Champ’ and ‘Kidlet.’ Men were also continuously and unnecessarily sexist, waiting for me to walk through doors and leave the elevator before them. If I had had any energy left in my body after those two weeks, I would have run from the

A few minutes later he joked to the chief-of-staff about a recent article on Catholic priests opposed to gay marriage: “It’s good to have the Catholics in the news with no pedophilia; although I guess there’s still sex and gays.” building when the clock hit 5pm on my last day. My internship doesn’t leave me wanting to be a journalist. At the end of every day I left The Hun’s immense grey building feeling as if all the life, love and passion in me had been sucked out, and replaced with mud. Many of my peers and friends were unimpressed when I spoke to them of my experiences throughout the week, ‘What did you expect?’ they asked, rolling their eyes. Well, I had fairly low expectations of the publication going in to the experience, but a lot lower of the whole industry coming out. Newspapers aren’t just stories. They’re not scraps of paper with people’s opinions scrawled on them. They are a key component in democracy, in reflecting and sustaining social commentary and values. They affect politics, sports, crime,

campaigns—hell, they can even sway you on what to eat for dinner. The Hun’s approach is both deluded and wrong. Basic fact checking would have refuted many of the heteronormative, white, elitist opinions expressed in that building regarding gender and trans people. Basic commonsense and respect would have eliminated many of the other scenarios. These encounters all happened in a period of two short weeks—I shudder to think of the other wrongdoings that must take place throughout an entire year. Scenarios like this shouldn’t exist. They shouldn’t be ‘the norm’ or ‘expected’— especially not for those within the media industry. They should be fought against, yelled at, spat on, and changed. Our journalism lecturers teach us that one of the most important rules in an internship is to not question your superiors. Don’t rock the boat, don’t tell the editors how to do their job, don’t make a mess, and don’t cause a fuss. Because of this, it may not be one my greatest ideas to write an article critical of the popular institution I interned for. But as an aspiring student journalist it would be wrong of me to not bring light to scenarios I believe demean us all. I’ll never be employed by The Hun, but that’s not something I mourn. I usually feel sad when poring over decreasing readerships and closed mastheads. But any force— declining revenue, ethical maelstroms, online competition—that can injure this publication, should be met with party poppers, streamers and a piñata of a certain “climate skeptic’s” head. If Australia’s big mastheads all function like this then I say bring on their decline. Rip down the banners that have led to media exclusivity and elitism. Huzzah to the future of online, diverse reporting. Even if it fucks up, at least it’s not as bad as The Hun. All opinions expressed in this article are those of the author. They do not reflect those of Farrago or The University of Melbourne.

farragomagazine.com

Inside Union House BY DAVE THRELFALL

Union House is a hive of activity at all hours. Arriving to work a shift in the loading bay at 6am in the morning, the floor all around me is covered with deliveries for the food outlets. A tray of muffins has had its bag ripped open and the icing is carefully eaten off five of them, scratches and the marks of a possum’s nibbling little teeth quite visible. The disaster is relayed to the supplier and a new delivery system—possum proof boxes—will be in place from tomorrow. The retail owners start to arrive, the Coke delivery truck guy unloads pallet after pallet of sugary fare, the goods go where they need to and the sun starts to peek out. The students slowly follow, and another normal day starts at Union House. The building is a central part of campus life—filling students’ stomachs, providing a place to relax, and full of opportunities for extra-curricular pursuits. Behind the scenes of this sophisticated operation are countless committed people working to make your uni experience more enjoyable, ensuring the possum doesn’t get a sweet breakfast tomorrow, and making sure that the actor in the play you’re seeing next Thursday is trained in how to use an iron. Here’s your chance to meet a few of them.

Peter Ellis

hen I interviewed Peter, the building attendant, he was into his fourth day of a three-week holiday, and had been in to work for three of those four days to chat with everyone and make sure all was proceeding smoothly! I ask about Peter’s old jobs before he started work here in 1990. He explains that he grins so much while pushing his green trolley bin because the work here is easy, “It’s like a holiday!” he exclaims, “When I got here, I asked myself, ‘Why didn’t I get here earlier?’” Peter previously worked at the Altona anodising works, where twenty or more workers were cramped into shoebox-sized rooms to change into and out of chemical covered protective gear. Pervasive and noxious smells of the chemicals followed them throughout the factory. The smell in the tanning factory where he worked in Brooklyn was even worse. Workers would grab the enormous hides, freshly cut from carcasses in the abattoir, cover them in salt and pile them on top of each other to dry out before moving to the next stage of the process. Nothing foundational has changed in Peter’s time at Union House. He still works with many interesting people—as we talked, Parun, another cleaner, came past singing beautifully in Hindi. Peter does lament that there is less interaction between union staff and office bearers today, but he still loves the work. To him, everybody in Union House, “including the walls, are good friends.” After 22 years, he won’t tell me when will be his time to stop. “I’m not a magician, but I spent a lot of time [here] and I know a few tricks.”

FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

Roshan Silva

oshan has been working at Union House for almost seven years. He’s the ‘leading hand’ of the cleaning. He grew up in Sri Lanka, near Colombo (where he had been working in administration for the government.) and came out to Australia at 26 to look for work. He and his brother emigrated at almost the same time, but their parents remain in Sri Lanka. Roshan has gone back a couple of times—the last time was three years ago—and his parents visited last December. He misses his friends and gets homesick from time to time, but has his brother and cricket to remind him of home.

Josie Byrt

s a security officer within the Union building, Steve’s role is much more varied than your average security position. He needs to be up to date with political intrigue in the representative arm of the union, and recalls breaking up fights between the right and left political factions over the years—things have been more accountable and not quite as physical since the liquidation of the Union at the start of 2004, he says (laments?). Steve also has a beautiful red trike with colourful spoke beads, saved for special occasions (check it out, it’s locked on the stairs next to the Food Co-op and UHT). He also remembers late shifts when InU Bar spewed students out into the night (or just onto the stairs). And we can all only guess at other more sordid things I’m sure have gone on in the corridors and back rooms. Our conversation makes its way to Steve’s colourful family history. A few stories point to various accolades, including: a Victoria Cross and extensive political involvement in Australia and abroad, imprisonment in Jamaica in connection with the anti-slavery movement, a mention in Charles Dickens’ will, an Oscar, a couple of Golden Globes and some classic Russian pianists for good measure—and the whole family is descended from a bastard line of English King William the Fourth.

While the university is a transient place, the longevity of the staff of the union is a testament to the sense of community in the building, and the enjoyment everyone gets out of being involved in a place so full of life and energy. If you get a minute, return their love and stop to have a chat as they go about their work around you. I’m sure there are many more stories to tell.

PHOTO: ELLA DYSON

s the Union’s Cultural Services Manager and Theatre Administrator, Josie oversees Union House Theatre, the George Paton Gallery, and the Rowden White Library. She arrived in 1997 on the back of various roles as an actress and theatre manager. For those of you who grew up visiting the Collingwood Children’s Farm, you might remember seeing Charlotte’s Web—Josie played Mother Goose for a period, and also starred as Charlotte for a couple of years. “I met my partner there, and he was the production manager and the fly man, who is the person who holds the rope… It was on a counter balance, and the big joke was if we had a fight he’d drop me!” She also worked at The Sun, before it became the Herald Sun, in the evenings, in what sounds like a fascinating, bygone era of alcoholism and sexism, before occupational health and safety was invented. “I was the first copy girl there, which was interesting, working at night with drunken subeditors and editors… they’d have to proof, physically proof, the papers. They might put the paper to bed at 10 and stay til 1 or 3 in the morning—so what they did was they drank. They drank and drank and drank.” Work at Union House hasn’t been without its challenges. In the past, Josie has had to to court controversy with such issues as footage of someone being killed—yet her aim is not to censor avant-garde student art. One of the most memorable pieces was a commissioned play about student politics, which led to the loss of Arts Victoria funding, the subsequent scrambling to cover the shortfall and eventually a string of full houses. Josie has also experienced the institution of standard operating procedures for use of an iron after an actor managed to burn his chest. Future UHT actors and actresses should be relieved to hear that the iron will stay locked away until you know how to use it safely.

Steve McRae

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An Asian Manifesto BY SAMANTHA TOH

Disclaimer: All is said in good humour. Please take everything with a bag of salt.

Part 1: Prologue The afternoon was sunny and I was munching away on my lunch, when a couple of girls from my class began making strange gestures in my direction. At first I thought they had been overcome by some peculiar hay fever around their eyes. Then it hit me. They were laughing at me. They were stretching their eyes out into that slanted shape associated with Asian people. They were mocking me. I was desperate to blend with the crowd, so having my otherwise decent classmates tease me about my physical appearance forced me to rethink who I was. I wasn’t someone who should be laughed at, looked at as if I was different. I was just like every other Australian kid. And so sparked my years-long attempt at transforming into an archetypal Aussie.

Part 2: The Assimilation Attempt Granted, I didn’t have the blonde tresses of some of my friends. I was, nonetheless, determined to fit in. I devoted my energy and time into becoming more Australian than Australian. I started incorporating the Australian flag into my wardrobe, donning an Aussie bandana on days I felt particularly patriotic. I forced my family to brave the sun in the name of a golden tan and a good ol’ barbie out on the lawn (with nothing less than “Waltzing Matilda” in stereo sound around us). I spent countless nights watching Julia Gillard speeches so as to perfect my crisp ocker accent. I had to show the world I was the epitome of what it meant to be Australian, and so I proudly trotted my tasteful ugg boots into the city. Where I got a Southern Cross tattoo on my back. I was deadly serious about this, and so not even the permanency of my beloved constellation contented me. I became the rugged explorer of the harsh interior— embarking on long weekend bush walks, talking seriously about drop bears, tackling a crocodile… Well, I couldn’t find a crocodile so I squished a gecko instead. Same difference. I was an outrageous patriot, damn it. But then the carpet was swept from beneath my feet. The following story happened to a friend of a friend of mine. Really. I’m not even joking.

While I was out one weekend, I was jeered at by a couple of drunks in the street. A flashback of the two girls teasing me raced through my mind, except this time I was called an “Auschwitz victim.” The drunks may not have had the magnetism of Hitler, but the same superior race tripe pulsed through their tiny minds. If there is such thing as a pure race, I can’t see how it would involve drunken bogans, spitting saucy sausage roll through their vitriol in the weekend’s small hours. Full of bitterness and regret over all the Chinese hot pot gatherings I had foregone in favour of my thousandth meat pie, I decided that my life was to take a 180 in a darker, more sinister direction. And so began my advocacy of Asian domination or, more simply put, Dominasian.

Part 3: Vengeance of the Snubbed Asian Every ‘typically’ Asian trait I had buried over the years surfaced so fast that I shocked myself. Within a matter of days I was scouring the bottoms of ticket machines for coins. I took the term ‘bad Asian driver’ to new heights, plowing into countless bumpers, tailgating into oblivion and narrowly missing many a pedestrian. Of course, when I did hit someone I pumped my fist into the air, happy to have contributed to the Asian cause by increasing our relative presence. You see, our bad driving is actually just an elaborate ploy to knock down innocent white man. You’ll have noticed we’ve successfully captured Melbourne city, and if all goes according to plan we’ll be walking the streets of the suburbs soon. Oh yes— replacing your bibles with the little red book, practicing tai chi on your pristine front lawns, spraying opium scented glade air freshener into your windows. We’re even taking your sports away from you—Tiger Woods is half Thai—Thaiger Woods! Mandarin might be a bit of stretch for small Caucasian minds, but we’ll advocate for Chinglish to be introduced into school curriculums—your children will be the ultimate hybrids! True multiculturalism. We’ll even bring the conical Asian straw hat into fashion, make it a summer must-have. You won’t know what hit you. You better start getting used to us slantyeyed folk ’cause we’re here to stay. No, we’re here to dominate. ILLUSTRATION BY ANUPAMA PILBROW

FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

Burning out, fading away BY LAUREN DRAPER

ora sits across from me, wringing her hands. Her discomfort is palpable, yet she appears determined. She orders a green tea, speaking so quietly the waitress leans closer to hear her. Kora smiles, a thin, wan smile that stretches her skin and shows the outline of her jaw. Razorsharp cheekbones frame her face, the hollows of her eyes clearly visible. Kora suffers from anorexia nervosa. Though she is in recovery, she explains that it is a disease that will likely plague her entire adult life. “I want to be better … I want to be normal and healthy. I can’t just, like my friends, go out and eat whatever. I want that, but I can’t right now…” she says, trailing off. She tends to avoids the word “anorexia”, and instead refers to it as “my illness”, or “when I got sick”. Frequently, Kora ducks her head while speaking, stealing glances over her shoulder. “I’m kinda used to people staring, it’s something I got used to a while ago”, she says almost apologetically, tugging a cardigan over her bony shoulders. People do stare. Most are sympathetic, guilty about their inability to look away. A few look disgusted, hurrying from the store. It’s peculiar, to be stared at so openly, though Kora seems genuinely accustomed to the unwanted attention. She makes eye contact with a passing businessman, who suddenly fumbles with his phone. “I was sick, I am still sick”, Kora says, her voice strengthening. “I’m sick in the same way someone who gets a virus is sick. I didn’t choose this. I didn’t want to make this happen, but it did… and I can’t force my body to be better, either.” She recounts her parents’ divorce, declaring “it’s not an excuse, it’s just an explanation, I think.” Like many eating disorder sufferers, she felt an inability to control her life. “School was getting crazy towards exams, my parents were… home wasn’t great then, it was hard.” She stresses that it wasn’t a conscious decision. Anorexia gripped her mind like quicksand, becoming stronger the harder she struggled. “I thought, ok, I can deal with this, I’m just

being stupid. I’m not fat, shut up, but I kept thinking it and thinking it and it got worse and worse.” Rather than controlling her anorexia, it controlled her. Suddenly, Kora was struck with dread and nausea at meal times. She felt self-conscious eating in front of people, and “pathetic”, eating alone. “I don’t even know how, but I eventually just… stopped. Stopped eating, sorry. I can’t even describe it, I can’t even—to myself—explain how I justified that” she says, frowning. In the space of three months, Kora lost approximately 20 percent of her body weight. She plummeted from a healthy 58 kilos to 39. She lost weight from her fingers and hands— even her feet became painfully skeletal. People began to comment on her appearance. “It didn’t help, it was just sort of an affirmation that whatever I was doing to myself was working”, she recalls. Her periods stopped. She didn’t sweat. She shivered constantly. Finally, her hair began falling out. “Strangely, that’s what devastated me the most. It came out in clumps in my hands, just strands of it… I cried at night, seeing it everywhere.” Initially, family and friends were unconcerned about her weight loss. “I started running a few days a week, eating more vegetables, less crap. Normal teenage stuff, but that was all at first”, she says. Slowly, however, it became an obsession. Kora would scream at her parents and refuse to eat fried or fatty cuts of meat. She stopped eating carbohydrates and starchy vegetables, and began meticulously counting calories. Kora is quick to dismiss the idea that she perceived herself as overweight. “No, I could see I was sick. I looked awful”, she says. But she didn’t often look at herself. She dressed blindly, hurrying into clothes to avoid looking at her emaciated body. She avoided mirrors and reflective surfaces. She brushed off concerns with excuses of stress and a fast metabolism. “And then I passed out”, she says bluntly. Her head hit a near-by pylon. The fall served as a long-overdue realisation. “I woke up. There were all these strangers looking at me. They all knew, I saw the pity and I saw how horrified they were … I couldn’t pretend

anymore. I was tired, God I was so, so tired”, she says. “I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I’m sick, I thought. I thought, I’m sick and there’s something wrong with me. I got up, I got stiches and I asked the doctor about other people like me, other girls that are sick … I cried in front of this nurse. I was inconsolable. I was letting go of this huge part of my life. I’d said it out loud, that I have anorexia.” Ultimately, naming her illness saved Kora. She attended a Butterfly Foundation recovery group, and met twelve other girls in various stages of recovery. It is not, as many people may think, a simple case of deciding to eat again. Many girls suffer like Kora did, unable to control the torrent of mental abuse directed at their bodies. They lack the attention and care they desperately need. According to the Butterfly Foundation, eating disorders have the have the highest mortality rate of all psychiatric sufferers, and are 32 percent more likely to commit suicide than an average person in society. For girls like Kora who develop chronic anorexia, the mortality rate is 15 to 20 percent. Recovery is a slow process. Chronic suffers continue to exhibit systems for up to ten years, often relapsing in times of stress. “It scares me, definitely”, says Kora, “I want so badly to just be better. When [my counsellor] said it could takes years I was shocked. I suppose I hadn’t thought of the repercussions while I was sick. Now, they’re unavoidable.” Kora can’t have children. Her bone density is incredibly poor, and her teeth are irreparably damaged and weakened. “It’s so stupid. I destroyed my body forever because I thought I’d feel better if I was skinny. I see my sister reading magazines and I want to scream that those girls, looking like that… it’s just not worth it. She made me want to be better. Girls like her—young, impressionable—make me want to be better.” The Butterfly Foundation Support Line 1800 33 4673 Monday - Friday - 9am to 5pm support@thebutterflyfoundation.org.au

PHOTO BY GRAEME POW farragomagazine.com

Live Export:

Cruelty of Convenience BY BIANCA KERR

In June last year the nation rallied, sickened by the treatment of Australian cattle inside Indonesian slaughterhouses; distraught the federal government had claimed ignorance while our animals were tortured and killed. Protestors cried out and screamed on the footsteps of Parliament House in Victoria. Many sobbed and held each other, distraught and overwhelmed with despair.

Screenshots from the 2011 Four Corners exposĂŠ that showed the shocking treatment of exported Australian cattle

FARRAGO â&#x20AC;&#x201D; EDITION FIVE 2012

A year has passed since the ABC program Four Corners broadcast shocking images of brutality inflicted on Australian cattle exported to abattoirs in Indonesia in an exposé that galvanised the nation. Today, the live export trade has lost the attention of many Australians, leaving animal activists wondering whether animal welfare remains on the political and public agenda, or whether for many, animal cruelty is a definition used when convenient. Animals Australia, RSPCA Australia, Animal Liberation Victoria, and many other animal welfare groups have existed for decades. All have consistently circulated shocking images of cruel farming practices, puppy factories, animal testing practices and mistreatment of animals in the entertainment industry. While there is no denying the footage shown by Four Corners was deeply unsettling, national broadcasters have depicted animal suffering in various television programs in the past. But while this information has been readily available and distributed to the public, Australians haven’t called for change. In contrast, the huge public support for a suspension to the live export trade signified a shift in the public’s tolerance towards poor standards of animal welfare. It marked a shift not only in awareness, but the choice to be aware. The public’s demand for action was radically different to other animal welfare issues, to the point that the government’s haphazard response of suspending the trade defied many of their own foreign policies. Ron Prasad, an animal activist who volunteers for Animals Australia, speculates the shocking footage was not the single motivator behind the public’s support. “We’ve seen this time and time again in any aspect of life. When something goes wrong somewhere, not many people will want to take responsibility for it… In this case, people were pointing the finger at the federal government.” The suggestion that other factors were involved in public support for the issue may not be too far from the mark. Strategic Action for Animals, a handbook used by leading animal activist organisations, notes one of the

key aspects of running a strategic campaign is to frame the issue in a way that speaks to the people it is trying to attract. The campaign has to ‘sell’ its values to the majority by presenting them in a way those outside the movement can relate to.The handbook explains: “the way to win over the public is to continually highlight the gap between powerholders’ policies and practices, and the social values they claim to represent.” The discussion surrounding the live trade export issue was never centred on animal liberation or the support of a consumption philosophy such as vegetarianism or veganism. While animal liberation is the objective of many animal groups, the focus was not directed at the meat consumption practices

techniques to gain public support for animal issues. “Live export has been a big issue politically in Australia before, it’s just the public have never gotten behind it in this way,” she said. “I think the times have changed. It’s not the issues, it’s the public who have become a lot more sensitive to animal issues.” Self-described ‘infotainment’ program The Project also features animal issues including stories about vegan parenting, jumps racing and puppy farms. Interestingly, the program caters to a Network Ten audience and aims for mass appeal. “Since the live export issue exploded in May 2011, the media coverage of animal issues has been a lot more sympathetic. There have been a lot more things on The 7.30

“Since the live export issue exploded in May 2011, the media coverage of animal issues has been a lot more sympathetic.” of the majority of the public and their implication in the trade. The active politicisation of the live export trade, as directed in Strategic Action for Animals, was a central component to the campaign’s effectiveness. The dwindling public support for the Labor government created the perfect environment for the public to accuse our ‘powerholders’ of negligence. Anastasia Smietanka, Victorian Coordinator of the Barristers Animal Welfare Panel, believes the campaign also drew on feelings of nationalism. “It helped that the footage was filmed in Indonesia. Members of the public find it quite easy to condemn people in another country, especially people in a poorer country, one that has different religious and cultural beliefs,” she said. Smietanka disagrees that animal welfare organisations are employing strategic marketing

Report on the ABC, in The Herald Sun, in The Age, across a spectrum of newspapers and a spectrum of media outlets,” Smietanka explained. “They’ve shown animal welfare issues quite widely and I think that reflects that the public is interested in it.” While there is no doubt Australians were truly outraged at the footage of cattle being savagely treated, it frustrates animal activists that the public cannot make connections between animal cruelty in Indonesia and their consumption habits at home. Smietanka warns Australians will soon have to face some daunting realities. “Probably one of the biggest issues that the Australian public is going to face in terms of animal welfare in the next decade is the fact that all these animal abuses are happening right on our soil and we’re responsible because we buy and eat those products.”

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Why are we even here? BY EMMA KOEHN

ILLUSTRATIONS BY ELLA DYSON

ave you ever wondered why you’re even here? Yes, you. You, reading this while reclining at Castro’s instead of doing your Week One readings. You’re not alone. Universities, you may have noticed, have been suffering an existential crisis for centuries, and you are one of the few thousand lucky people to be taken along for the ride. If the stats from papers like the Suncorp Wages Bank Report are anything to go by, we’re wasting our time getting degrees while our savvier TAFE student counterparts are making the big bucks brick by brick. At the end of the day, though, you’re still here, or at least on campus long enough to pick up an edition of Farrago. So what unique privileges can you get from uni education that are worth it, even if your inspiration is lacking?

1. A group of fellow complainers What’s kryptonite to tute group discussion? Why an awful tutor, of course. Or a poorly worded assessment task that managed to screw over the first 25 percent of your subject grade. You may be fresh faced from holidays now, but in a few weeks’ time you’ll experience once more the camaraderie that accompanies complete academic sadomasochism. If we’re being sentimental, perhaps the best part of this is getting to complain about workloads with people from a broad range of backgrounds, all united in mild terror over a Spanish vocabulary test. Come exam time, your life plays out like an episode of Community—a group of misfits sitting around talking about convergent media forms with a fierce determination not to enjoy it. Sure, you can make friends like these working in the mines or at Woolies, but universities give you sandstone architecture under which

to bemoan a fail grade signalling the end of your existence. It’s dramatic, it’s overexaggerated, and it’s a bonding experience you may never get back.

2. A very mild super power Say what you will about that semester you spent learning ancient Wiccan rituals; a university major will give you a more-thanbasic knowledge of a subject even if you’re not always paying attention. Why does this matter? Think of it, if you will, as mildly superhuman strength in a field that not too many other people know about. Who knows when such a thing will come in handy: maybe you’ll win an episode of Hot Seat based solely on facts about dinosaur-sized emus from Australian History. Maybe your major will form the backbone of that ‘career’ everyone keeps talking about in your future. Either way, having a wealth of knowledge in one field is not only kind of a luxury; it’s a reflection that you’ve hung in there.

3. Experience in selling It’s a task in translation, one that only the most seasoned uni students can complete perfectly: explaining what you are studying to other people. In giving muttered explanations of your degree to family members, friends, customers, acquaintances, video shop guys and food delivery men, you’ll find that this whole uni thing forces you to be positive about why you’re there, or at the very least explain why. It’s going to go badly: great aunts will ask Arts students what paintbrushes they recommend, not realising that their young charges have been spending semester upon semester applying gender studies to Katy Perry lyrics.

FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

There will probably come a time when, as an Environments grad, a family friend who thinks you are personally to blame for climate change policy corners you in a grocery store. But through it all, you have to grin, bear it and invent art supply brands for recommendation. You’ve got to learn how to explain yourself just to pacify everyone else and while that may not be glamorous, it’s a skill that will come in handy later.

4. Access to beverages Cider enthusiasts no doubt jumped to this one, but it’s a real privilege of campus life that extends beyond the alcoholic. Unless you wind up at Facebook headquarters or working at a Westfield, you’re unlikely to have such broad access to snack food and beverages, both hard and not so. Chances are there won’t be a Kere Kere to catch your fall and reinstate concentration skills when you’re working in the real world. Sure, there’ll be the corporate coffee set-ups that could offer some minor solace, but to be surrounded by coffee shops of the loyalty card genre—well, you should probably enjoy it while it lasts.

5. The knowledge that it isn’t forever So, you’re a little bit unsold on why you’re bothering with the whole uni thing. It isn’t purgatory, though, and it ends eventually. It might not be the best deal out there for the big bucks, or even the small ones, in every case. But you’re allowed to think. You’re allowed to frolic. You can walk but ten paces and encounter another cheap chai latte. Given that it will be over soon, maybe you should just take the good and embrace the possibility that money won’t rain down on you the moment graduation hits.

FICTION & ART

“Sign Systems” by David Brun

CREATIVE 37

POETRY BY LUCAS GAUDISSART

When falling asleep cortex pumps dripping matter against tightly welded skull plates hair floats about surface, resonates excavated music from within.

There is a man E.L.M Baillieu

There is a man who prays on airplanes every time

Opening door hazard. Do not open. Do not obstruct.

he flies

Back pressed against the metal shelves, she overhears I used to be a fortified wino. from a voice, a gooey snigger from another.

His incantations flow with solid rhythm emboldened by faith.

She would whirl up and around, ask them, the speaker and his mirror, if they could take her home. The words are jammed in her throat, angular fur ball, impossible to spit out or swallow. And while she chokes, they havenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t noticed her sputters, and the tall one with sandy curls a baseball cap bloodshot eyes turns to his dissolving friend You out tomorrow, mate?

ART BY JENNY SHEN

FARRAGO â&#x20AC;&#x201D; EDITION FIVE 2012

carving silent words with the shivers of his mouth in a feverish mazurka of lips, tongue and spittle.

What macabre catastrophe does he know of? Maybe this ghastly wavering man is cursing us. Perhaps he will subsist when we are blown out in a swift breath like tiny candle lights. For now, let us put this aside, I must place my seatback in upright position, fasten my seat belt.

Her naked body bruised and her big busted grin BY VERN SKAGS

Her naked body bruised and her big busted grin Steam billowing around her skin scrubbed raw She caught his eye wandering over her slowly Said, ‘Have you always been so lonely?’ Outside the frosted slat-windows jasmine Flowers cascaded down the bluestone Walls a spear of sunshine pierced Through boot black cloud silhouetting pigeons The mist condensing on the bathroom Ceiling and fogging the mirror above

Spare time BY LUCAS GAUDISSART

The vanity his old whiskers in the basin His dull razor sitting atop the waste bin Now all last night’s clever one-liners Tasted sour on his tongue the wheeze In his lungs like waking on old carpet

in the roundness of a ball in the glass eyes of a doll in the fabric of the sail you made

The milk in his gut curdling with vodka While she soaped the hollow of her pits, ‘So what are you so caught on,’ she said As water rilled through her fine hair Then she turned under the rose humming

in the felt tip of a pen in the plastic of a tent in that wooden little bark you sailed.

A somber fourth of some sonata and his mind In a torpor from the oxycodone murmured Lines like that, lady, lines like that.

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ART BY DAVID BRUN

“The Swan’s Pantomime”

“The Fallen Ratio”

More Chemical than Cream BY MEG WATSON My neighbour was a surgeon she cut people up for money. But at home, she would wear white dresses and swan about to Alanis Morissette. We didn’t really know her— only the small postmarks. Her bookshelves littered with Gabriel García Márquez. Her cat sentenced to death by liver disease. Her fly-screen that creaked as she crept onto the verandah, to spend the evenings rolling small and ornate joints. Dad said doctors shouldn’t smoke. “Surgeons, SURGEONS—no less.” But I didn’t mind. Because each night, after dessert, I’d watch her through the window, as she wound rich smoke into the air and her white dress fell back into her chest as we shared a warm and intimate silence. She would gather her lips up, cupping each puff like a newborn. And her fingers would grip the fine textures of woven paper with the same precision used for a hard and heavy scalpel. And my lungs would start to ache as I thought about her eyes and how they seemed younger than the surrounding skin; how her face would look starker in the O.R. and those round breaths would be sterilised by the white light, breathing in and out. I thought of how those eyes might fix themselves on a body, on the table. Maybe a small girl, naked—eyes closed. Perennial, silent and clean. ART BY JENNY SHEN

FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

Vermin BY ANUPAMA PILBROW

- Come close Matty. I’ll let you know a secret. Hazel calls me from the pavement. - Hazel! The flowers! You know you’ll upset Mother. Her knees are crushing the pansies but she won’t move. I walk towards her. Something is cupped in her hands. She opens them wide when I’m beside her and I see a tiny rabbit nestled in the soft pink flesh. Mother says that Hazel would look like Jesus if she didn’t cut her hair. Even short round her ears, it’s still thick and ragged. Her face, too, is broad and haunted but I can’t quite picture her with a beard. People stare, Mother says let them, but she really is quite beautiful. Her skin is so nearly see-through in sunlight and she looks unearthly blue. When she opens her mouth her smile is crooked and her voice is liquid. I wait next to her kneeling form. Finally she looks towards me and her eyes drift down to my mouth. But I don’t say anything and she turns back to the rabbit. It’s broken. I see that now. - Where’d you find it? - In the flowers. There’s a roughed up patch by the path. - Come on Hazel. We’ll bring him in. Wash him. Come on! Mother will at least have a rag to lay him on. She’ll know what to do. The words, my voice, have become urgent. But she’s still frozen, even her fingers haven’t moved. - No, Matty. Look. And she lifts one hand to show me the hole where its insides are about to spill out, the foot that is twisted backwards, the base of its head where the brown fur has turned crimson. - Oh Hazel. What are you going to do? You can’t just let it die! Oh don’t! It’s cruel. She doesn’t even blink and when I look at her face it’s empty as in sleep. A screen door slams somewhere down the street and I have to follow the sound with my head. When I turn back around her thumb and finger have stifled the little rabbit. Her lips have drifted apart, and softened. She lifts her hand from the creature’s face and I see it’s gone for sure. Hazel puts the body back on the earth, in among the jonquils. She gets up, wipes blood and dirt on the fabric of her dress and walks into the house.

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ABOVE WATER

The UMSU Arts and Media Departments will be launching their creative writing anthology Above Water at 5.30pm on Friday 24 August at the Yarra Building, Federatuin Square, as part of the Melbourne Writers’ Festival. There will be nibbles and drinks, readings, and the presentation of first, second and third prizes as awarded by our esteemed judges Kat Muscat of Voiceworks, Sam Cooney of The Lifted Brow and Nam Le, author of The Boat. Head to our facebook page for event details: “Mag Farrago” www.facebook.com/farragomag.

Rants ETC. Canberra’s Closed Closets By Ryan Buhagiar

As we farewell Senator Bob Brown from politics this year, we’ll be greeting Penny Wong and Louise Pratt as the only openly gay elected members out of the 226 in Australian federal politics. Despite efforts from Senator Brown’s Greens, Rainbow Labor and many in the community, it seems that in Australia the closet door remains firmly closed. “Politics should never be about a person’s sexuality,” says Rainer, a young politician rising through the Labor ranks and closely associated with western metropolitan MP offices and youth think-tanks. However, in a political climate where heterosexual politicians flaunt their families for political brownie points and homosexuality is still associated with scandal, young people with political aspirations such as Rainer are compelled against taking risks and keep their sexual orientations private. “Living in a society where the personal lives of people are so important”, he said, “the public want to know the sexuality of the person, and votes are unfortunately decided upon this premise, even though their vision for a better nation may be far better than that of the others”. Rainer admits that although not a fan of his political vision, “I admire Bob Brown for being open about his sexuality from the get go”. For former Greens leader and Senator, Bob Brown, homosexuality is, and has been, a significant part of his political identity. He came out to his peers and the nation in his first speech in parliament in 1996, and has spent his political career as leader

of the Greens advocating for the rights and equality of members in Australia’s lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) community. For those in the two major political parties, though, the case is different. Senator Penny Wong often brushes aside her talk of her sexuality, and maintains that her private life will remain private. David, a Perth Young Liberal, has first-hand knowledge of the pressures on his political future, and faces the additional challenges of a right-wing Catholic as party leader and the conservative values of the Liberal Party. “It’s particularly disappointing that as an apparently progressive nation, there have only ever been three out and proud politicians elected into Canberra and none at all in the House of Representatives, none in my home state and none in the Party that haven’t been appointed into roles without an election”, he says. “On the other hand, though, there has been no shortage of political events that have depicted homosexuality, and homosexuality in politics in particular, in negative ways that only serve to further

alienate gay and lesbian political aspirants like myself ”. David cites recent examples, including that of Bob Katter’s homophobic television ad and the Slipper sexual harassment case as poignant examples that “paint queer people as unfit to represent others in the community, which is completely unfair because we’re no different to anyone else in politics or in the wider community apart from who we’re sexually attracted to”. These personal, professional and political issues have become more problematic with increased pressure on parliament and MPs on the topic of marriage equality, in Australia and abroad. France’s new president-elect François Hollande is expected to push for same-sex marriage, allowing France to join the ranks of several other European countries that have legalised it. Barack Obama, too, recently declared his support of equal marriage in the United States, affirming his stance that “gay and lesbian Americans should be treated fairly and equally”. Prime Minister Julia Gillard, however, has stated that her position on the issue has not “evolved”, as Obama described his change of opinion. Talking to ABC radio station farragomagazine.com

774, Gillard explained that when a Private Member’s bill in favour of same-sex marriage is introduced into Parliament, she “won’t vote for it”. “When support doesn’t come from the top, from our leaders, where does that leave us as people involved in politics and as people in general?” David asks. “It’s inhibiting and it’s really disappointing.” Brendan O’Connor and other ALP figures have taken the same stand as the Prime Minister, despite lobbying by Rainbow Labor and consistent polls showing a vast majority support same-sex marriage. It’s a situation that doesn’t give our young, gay Liberal much hope. “When you compare Australia to other countries, and you see how their governments are supporting sexual minorities, you realise just how far behind we really are here and how far we’ve got to go. I just wish that one day I can be comfortable enough to come out, for it to be no issue when I do, and for me and everyone else to be treated equally.” Names have been changed for the privacy of the individuals involved.

Government shifts costs to students. By Owen Bennett

ver since Melbourne University placed their full support behind the new demand-driven system of tertiary education, one fact has become increasingly clear— Melbourne University wants students to pay more. Under the new system introduced at the beginning of this year, universities across Australia are now responsible for deciding the number of undergraduate places they will offer and in what disciplines. Put more simply, the new demand-driven system will create a free market in tertiary education—student demand, rather than government regulations, will now determine not only the size of the university, but also what courses are offered. So how will this change lead to increased fees at Melbourne University? As the new system pits Australian universities against each other in a fierce battle to attract highachieving students, the quality of education offered will essentially determine where students want to go. The importance of attracting high achieving students for universities cannot be underestimated—in 2010 alone international students earned Australian universities around $16 billion. Melbourne University will clearly be desperate to ensure the enrolment of the maximum possible number of international students to ensure the future of this income. This new era of competitive education will essentially force universities to scramble for any extra resources that will give them the edge on their competition. However, universities that had hoped these extra resources would come from increased government funding will be sorely disappointed—no added funding per student has been allocated. There is only one place left for universities to get the money necessary for improved facilities and education – from students themselves. The burden of quality of education has essentially shifted away from the government, and toward the student body. Sound familiar? That’s because this is the exact system employed in America. Harvard University is a perfect example of the American tertiary education system that the Australian government seeks to emulate. Currently ranked second in the world in the prestigious QS World University Rankings, the quality of education at Harvard is legendary and demand for its courses is high. However, students who want to enjoy this quality of education will be obliged to pay at least US$ 37,490 upfront for the first two

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years of study. This does not include the costs of dormitory housing, books and other necessities, which cost a further US$ 18,420 per ten-month stay. As Melbourne University is currently ranked in 31st place in these rankings, there is clearly a lot more work to be done. For most students at the University of Melbourne, the new demand driven system of education has not changed anything. This is because most students are enrolled in Commonwealth supported courses, which are still funded and controlled by the government through the HECS-HELP system. The new laws have left the whole tertiary climate very unstable. Universities, together with the federal government, are currently considering the possibilities of enacting fundamental changes not only in the general structure of the HECSHELP system, but also in the expansion of full fee paying positions. Universities Australia, the peak body representing the majority of Australian universities, has made public its concerns about the new system. CEO Glenn Whithers is highly critical of the failure of government funding to meet university course costs—which in some cases is 33% below full cost for domestic undergraduates. “The public contribution of universities to national productivity will suffer if below-cost growth extends so far”, says Withers. As the federal government has pledged to wipe the national debt by 2019, it is unlikely government funding will increase to meet the needs of universities. In this new competitive marketplace, universities will not only have to make up for this shortfall of funding, but also be forced to compete against each other in the mad rush for increased quality. If these extra

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funds do not come from the government, there is only one other place: that’s right, students. Whether if it’s in the form of an increased quota of full fee paying students, or an increase in the HECS-HELP course costs, price hikes will inevitable occur. Melbourne University Vice Chancellor Glyn Davis is clearly aware of this possibility. In a recent speech Davis asked, “And how do we avoid slow decline when governments will not provide sufficient funding for universities, yet fear the political backlash of raising undergraduate fees?” Here’s an idea Glyn, oppose the new system and don’t raise fees. This news should have been received by a collective gasp by all students at Melbourne University. But due to the deliberate ‘hush-hush’ atmosphere surrounding these new laws, no one really knows about it. On the other hand Glyn Davis is salivating at the idea. According to Davis, by setting the funding system “free” universities will now be allowed to escape “decades of government regulation (that) have promoted a predictable and proletarian norm”. For Davis, these reforms will inevitably lead to a “nirvana of higher education”, completely ignoring the student costs associated with this ‘nirvana’. It is clear that the amount fees increase at Melbourne University completely depends on the level of student opposition to the price hikes. The Free Education Movement is an unaffiliated group created purely to oppose fee increases and fight for free tertiary education. Get involved at freeeducationmovement.webs. com or email at freeeducationmovement@ hotmail.com.

Slip ups, Piss ups, Punch ups Derrick Krusche examines Australian politics.

hile Craig Thomson and Peter Slipper’s alleged aberrations have dominated this year’s headlines, there is a long and proud history of embarrassing indiscretions by Australian politicians. Don’t be outraged that these people are supposed to be our democratic representatives. All you can do is appreciate the humorous aspects and suppress the worrying thought that they run our country. A suitable starting point would be Malcolm Fraser misplacing his trousers in an obscure American motel, but let’s fast-forward to Australia’s first mobile phone scandal. It involved not Shane Warne, but the Australian Liberal Party. The year was 1987. A call was recorded between Victorian state opposition leader Jeff Kennett, and his friend, federal frontbencher Andrew Peacock. Both cooed over their mutually held view that the federal leader of the opposition, John Howard, was an utter tool. Kennett reiterated triumphantly to Peacock a conversation he had with Howard earlier: “I said to him, I said, Howard. You’re a cunt. You haven’t got my support, you never will have, and I’m not going to rubbish you or the party tomorrow but I feel a lot better having told you you’re a cunt”. Chortling away, Kennett added, “Thought I’d tell you where I ended up with your little mate”. Peacock aptly concluded, “Shit… well, fuck him”. When this dialogue was published on the front pages of newspapers nationwide, the top tiers of the Liberal party were exposed as deeply divided. No wonder Labor PM Bob Hawke was reelected later that year, and we all know he was hardly adverse to colourful language. Another politician disliked Howard enough to dismiss him as an “arse-licker”. But it was not just his sharp tongue that flagged Labor leader Mark Latham as a troublemaker; Latham was alleged to have broken Sydney taxi driver

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Bachir Mustafa’s arm in 2001 over a fare dispute. As one often does after a night on the turps, Latham had fallen asleep in the backseat. Upon awakening, he thought that Mustafa was driving long distances to raise the dial on the taximeter. Refusing to pay, Latham left the cab. However, Mustafa quickly got out of the cab and snatched Latham’s suitcase to gain some leverage for negotiation. In the name of retrieving stolen property, Latham executed a rugby-tackle on Mustafa, causing the cabbie’s arm to snap. Latham retrieved his case and left the scene. Surprisingly, when Latham’s fisticuffs came to light his political career was hardly tarnished. It even may have even helped in cementing an image of him as a tough workingclass Labor man, one who was not willing to be pushed around. Latham thuggishly reflected that “Now the taxi drivers call me sir”. So running away from cabs to avoid paying is not just a pastime of Melbourne youth, but also that of potential Prime Ministers. Like Latham, former leader of the Democrats Andrew Bartlett possessed a short fuse when primed by alcohol. In 2004 Bartlett was forced to take a break from his leadership after gatecrashing a Liberal

party Christmas function. Clearly unsatisfied with the ‘do’, Bartlett attempted to sneak out five bottles of wine for better purposes. Liberal Senator Jeannie Ferris intercepted him, and the cache of wine was rescued. Bartlett, distressed at the prospect of finding no more alcohol in Canberra, gripped Ferris by the arm and allegedly called her a “fucking bitch”. After working off his hangover, Bartlett’s public apology to Ferris was accompanied by none other than a bottle of wine. Ferris viewed this peace offering as “quite inappropriate”. Was it given out of sarcasm, restitution or just plain foolishness? Who knows? Chugalug, Andrew. Moving to the 2007 election campaign and we have an old gem on Kevin Rudd. Unlike Bartlett though, Rudd had ample supply of drink. It was 2003 and he was in New York to represent Australia at the United Nations. After getting plastered at dinner, Rudd and Labor MP Warren Snowdon, crowned with his Katter-like hat, thought it a grand idea to visit the strip club Scores. A blessing in disguise for Therese (and the dancers), Rudd was supposedly warned by management against touching the dancers. He later farragomagazine.com

said he could not recall any of the night after dinner because he had drunk too much. Please. We all know that when a mate does something imprudent and blames it on an alcohol blackout, he’s guilty. And of course there’s the repeated exposure of the Australian people to Tony Abbott’s budgie smuggler-clad physique. Not to mention Ted Baillieu, decked out in similar risqué attire. Maybe this isn’t indiscreet; maybe it’s just tasteless. Or is a Liberal Party Calender in the works? Unquestionably, the behaviour of politicians talked about here make for a good yarn. The events themselves are common social situations and mostly forgivable, if not for their magnification by the lens of an ever-watchful media. However, when an indiscretion breaks the law the perpetrator should be dealt with accordingly and, of course, no politician is immune from criminal or civil prosecution. If it is just a slip of character that does not impact on the efficacy of the politician’s work (they are employed by us to do a job, after all) then normal social tolerance should apply. Let he or she who has not sinned cast the first stone.

Innocent Until Extradited CHRISTINE TODD explains why she has no sympathy for Julian Assange

ometimes the law frustrates me. Not because it can be dry and unnecessarily convoluted. And I certainly hold no resentment towards those legal concepts that take a whole semester to comprehend, only to be overturned later that week in the High Court. No, my beef/tofu (this article 100% vegan-friendly) is with the law’s potential for misuse. The law, with good intent, is oft designed in such ambiguous terms as to enable flexibility for all circumstance. If the law is designed to be as pliable as PlayDoh, well then Julian Assange is moulding it into the shape of a penis, my friends. Late last month, Mr Assange sought refuge in the London Embassy of Ecuador under a pending application of political asylum. His application came about following proceedings by the Swedish government for his extradition in response to charges of sexual assault and rape in Sweden. Fearing that the Swedish government would hand him over to the US to face additional charges of espionage, Assange has so far resisted his European warrant of arrest. His failed appeal against extradition in the British Supreme Court demonstrates a staunch refusal to submit to the due process of the law. Much like a child clinging to the doorframe in a dentist waiting room, Assange don’t wanna. No one disputes that the United States government seeks vindication against Assange for the alleged leaking of thousands

of classified diplomatic and military documents on his publishing platform, Wikileaks. His situation is unfortunate because, for what it’s worth, Wikileaks has always had good intentions. As per the very bedrock principles of modern journalism, the business of Wikileaks was to shine a light where no one wanted it shone, and it’s ruffled a few feathers on the way. So much so that the United States claims to have collated enough causal evidence to establish that Assange has breached its federal Espionage Act. Specifically, the Act elaborates that anyone with “unauthorised possession” of documents “relating to the national defense” who then publishes those documents in the knowledge that they “could be used to the injury FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

ILLUSTRATION BY LENA LY

of the United States, or to the advantage of any foreign nation” could be found guilty of a federal felony. The Espionage Act, enacted by the US Congress during World War I, has been a staple of national security prosecutions in the United States. Not only is it well-established, it’s been upheld as constitutional by every court case that has examined its compliance with the First Amendment guarantee of freedom of speech. The legislation is solid. That is to say, there is an outstanding allegation that Assange has broken a well-established US law, in addition to sexual assault and rape charges in Sweden. Despite its frustrating ambiguity, the law needs to be consistent in order for us to have confidence in it. For that reason, all crimes have consequences.

In Australia and abroad, one can almost be certain that if they commit a certain crime, and are caught doing so, then a certain level of retribution will be leveled back at them. This reflects well in the statement of seventeenth century British historian, Thomas Fuller, whose commentary “Be ye ever so high, the law is above you” seems particularly apt when applied to Assange. Even the high and mighty must bow to the majesty of the law. Assange cannot defy the law, run away from the law, trick the law into thinking he is innocent. The only immutable way of doing so is to face the charges, prove them wrong, and come out claiming costs. Assange, like any other citizen of this world, is entitled to the international legal rights that allow him to resist extradition in answering sexual

assault allegations, if he feels such extradition is unjust. But all this logistical and legal weaving seems to ignore the very reality of those allegations made against him, and how easily one can swoop their way out of their legal consequence. Whether or not the sexual assault and rape allegations prove to be true, the claimant(s) deserve to have their cases heard before a court, as is the natural, due process of the law. Every delay, every legal loophole utilised, is another circumvention of that due process, and a blatant denial of legal redress for the claimants. An additional concern is that Assange’s claims for political asylum are based on some rather basic speculation that Sweden will forego legal independence and submit Assange to the perils of the United States government. Can we not leave it to the independence and sovereignty of the Swedish court system to determine a) whether the sexual assault allegations against Assange are true, and b) the merit in allowing for his extradition to the United States? Any extradition between Sweden and the United States would need to comply with the existing extradition treaty between Sweden and the United States. This treaty prohibits extradition of the basis of “a political offense” or “an offense connected with a political offense”. Further, the extradition would also need to comply with the requirement for dual criminality. Under Swedish law, the extradition of an individual to a non-European Union country can only occur if the alleged crime is punishable in both countries by a jail term of one year or more. Mr Assange couldn’t be extradited for drunkenly punching a claim in the face, but he could be extradited for firstdegree murder, large-scale theft. Or, in this case, espionage. While Sweden has an equivalent to US espionage legislation, the case is clouded by assertions from the Swedish Department of Justice that espionage is listed as a political offense under Swedish jurisprudence. Thus, if the Swedes were to comply with the rule of law, it would not extradite Assange, because it clearly prohibits extradition on the basis of political offenses. Charging Assange under the Espionage Act will likely prove fruitless for the United States in this regard. Their energy would be better utilised engaging in more creative charges. Under the ever-watchful eye of the international community, the United States will need to be careful not to openly cross boundaries of due legal process when placing the high profile Assange on trial, whatever the charge. While Mr Assange continues to form his case against extradition, he will need to learn to respect the fact that laws and legal processes exist for a reason. They are designed to protect, to define boundaries of behaviour, and to ensure the smooth mechanics of social justice. If Assange truly believes in his own innocence, he will face those mechanisms. If Sweden and the United States hold any faith in their own laws, then they too will follow due process, with the end result a just outcome for all.

Issues Cheat Sheet: The Carbon Crisis WITH DANIELLE KUTCHEL

It’s here! The monster that has dominated headlines for over a year has finally arrived. The Carbon Tax. Implemented on 1 July, it has been a non-stop source of embarrassed justification for Labor, and fuel for Abbott’s anti-Gillard campaign. That famous slogan, ‘There Will Be No Carbon Tax Under a Government I Lead’, now even has a catchy acronym (TWBNCTUAGIL). The government has tried hard to persuade us that there is actually a policy beneath all the slogans and slander, while the Opposition has been busily refuting this. So, cutting through all the propaganda and cat-calls, here are the basics of the carbon tax. Carbon Quibbles The Carbon Tax was born of the Gillard Government’s Clean Energy Future policy. On July 10 2011 Gillard declared that Australia would have what Labor termed a ‘carbon price’— that is, the 500 biggest polluters in Australia would pay a set price ($23) per tonne of carbon released into the atmosphere. The price would not apply to households and individuals, although some businesses may pass on the charge through price rises on products and services. To counteract this, Gillard announced tax cuts and increases in some payments and pensions to households funded by the proceeds of the scheme, although she stressed that individuals do not pay the carbon price. The word ‘tax’ went carefully unmentioned. Except by Abbott who immediately seized upon TWBNCTUAGIL—enter ‘Juliar’ as Gillard was accused of lying to the electorate and conning votes by promising no carbon tax before the election and delivering the opposite afterwards. The price was immediately declared to be a tax in disguise (although even the Clean Energy Plan released by the government concedes the price is “like a tax”, before it transitions to an emissions trading scheme in 2015, when the price of carbon will be dictated by the market). The Liberals on their website refer to the price as the “toxic tax”, claiming it will “drive up prices, threaten jobs and do nothing for the environment”.

Carbon Woes So what is the point of the tax/ price? We have all heard how climate change is caused by gases such as

carbon dioxide trapping heat in our atmosphere, and that these gases are produced by burning fossil-fuels (among other activities). The Labor government asserts that paying to pollute will provide businesses with an incentive to pollute less—that is, to invest in cleaner energy that won’t cost them so much, thereby reducing carbon emissions and Australia’s contribution to global warming. Liberals say that businesses will merely increase prices of services and goods to compensate without reducing emissions, or move overseas where it is cheaper to conduct business as usual with no carbon price.

Carbon Alternatives? The Liberals, on their website, vow to “oppose [the tax] in opposition and rescind it in government”. Their alternative is the ‘Direct Action Plan’, which includes an Emissions Reduction Fund to provide grants to projects designed to meet the Liberals’ target of reducing carbon emissions by five percent by 2020. Details surrounding the origins of the fund are sketchy, but the Liberals have promised no new or increased taxes on businesses, households or individuals. In light of the facts, Gillard did lie to the public before the election; while this sounds inexcusable, many politicians do the same and climate change is a real issue that needs to be dealt with promptly. The carbon tax is a more transparent and immediate option than the Coalition’s Direct Action Plan, but many corporations may simply push up prices and adapt to the tax—and then, where is the incentive to challenge climate change? Perhaps a carbon price is not the answer.

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Stop the Boats:

No Refuge From Hypocrisy BY SCOTT ARTHURSON

Major parties and the mass media alike have been abuzz with the question: “how do we stop the boats?” But when it comes to addressing Australia’s immigration intakes, this question is irrelevant, as people arriving by boat account for a minuscule percentage of our incoming population.

Scenes like the Christmas Island boat disaster, which saw 48 asylum seekers lose their lives in December 2010, seem to be becoming more and more common. Meanwhile, our politicians do little to help those seeking refuge.

FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

“Contrary to popular rhetoric, there is little (if any) causal relationship between immigration policy in developed countries and the number of people seeking asylum.” Generally, public anxiety surrounding nautical arrivals has been easy to dismiss as a hysterical beat-up, driven mostly by misinformation and thinly veiled racism. More recently, the boat panic has centred on a seemingly philanthropic justification. Far from an expression of xenophobia, the strong desire to repel leaky vessels from Australian shores has been framed as a humanitarian concern: we must deter refugees from seeking asylum via boat to save them from drowning and to stop their exploitation by people smugglers. The mass media condemns politicians for failing to agree on an offshore-processing solution, whether in Malaysia, Nauru or elsewhere. The choice is portrayed in stark terms: implement offshore processing or take responsibility for the deaths of the people who drown at sea. But are these really the only options we have? And is a newfound sympathy for those seeking refuge the real motivation for such policy? The human loss in the recent tragedies at sea is appalling—of that, there is no doubt. But this does not make offshore processing the solution. The rationale of humane deterrence simply doesn’t stand up. Its supporters reason that a “tougher policy” will prevent asylum seekers from making the dangerous boat journey, thus saving them from drowning. Aside from the lack of evidence for such a position, it also fails to account for something essential: just what is it that made these people desperate enough to make this journey in the first place? A common misconception is that socalled ‘boat people’ are not genuine refugees and are attempting to cheat the system. On the contrary, over 90 percent of asylum seekers arriving by boat are found to be refugees. Refugees typically flee their homelands because they are persecuted for reasons including their politics, ethnicity or religion. Generally, the risk of the journey

is less than the perils they face at home. They have no option but to leave their lives behind, fleeing danger by any means and as quickly as possible, often not knowing where they will end up. Likewise, some flee refugee camps in transit countries because the processing can take years and conditions are often deplorable. In many such camps, supply shortages, violence, and various forms of abuse are commonplace. In short, that which they are fleeing tends to be even worse than the terrible boat journey they must make. Logically, the only way a “tougher policy” could deter refugees from dangerous voyages is by making the prospect of the journey worse again than staying at home. Theoretically, the most effective way of “stopping the boats” would be to treat refugees more atrociously than their oppressors, or to deny them any hope of asylum and of escaping persecution in their present location. Yet removing the option of travelling by boat will not save refugees from danger, nor ensure that they join an orderly queue; such queues do not exist. Instead, it will increase the likelihood of people being trapped, oppressed, incarcerated, and in many cases murdered. Moreover, a tougher policy is unlikely to prevent people from seeking asylum in any case. Contrary to popular rhetoric, there is little if any causal relationship between immigration policy in developed countries and the number of people seeking asylum. The Coalition has blamed rising numbers of boat arrivals on softer Labor policy compared to the golden era of draconian laws under Howard. Yet such a view reflects either cynical political posturing or wilful insularity verging on solipsism: according to the UNHCR, asylum seekers numbers decreased under the Howard government because they also decreased around the world. In this case, the evidence confirms common sense: the primary factors driving people to seek asylum lie in the conditions they

face in their own countries and regions. All this being the case, it seems possible that the humanitarian rhetoric for offshore processing veils less philanthropic motives, such as media hype, political opportunism and populist exploitation of public fears and prejudice. Apparent humanitarian concern commonly keeps discursive company with outright prejudice. One need only make the mistake of trawling through comments on news sites to find racist sentiments and insensitive labels such as “queue jumpers”. Given politicians’ propensity to draw on such bile, the humane rhetoric surrounding offshore processing may simply be a mask, allowing major parties to feed on public prejudice while holding moral criticism at bay. If this is so, their hypocrisy must be condemned. Yet, it may also be a strange sign of hope: the fact that these draconian positions are now framed in humanitarian terms shows a shift in the discussion. It may even be a sign that it is no longer considered acceptable to justify policy purely in terms of cold and ruthless national interest. This provides an opportunity. By defending their policy on the ethical grounds of saving refugee lives, policymakers open the door to arguments as to what would better serve the interests of refugees. The hypocrite in this sense is a monster in retreat, giving fresh credence to the maxim that “hypocrisy is a tribute that vice pays to virtue”. The chance now exists to shift the question from “How do we keep these people out?” to “How can we help prevent further tragedy?” As such, it becomes possible to trap more cynical politicians between doing what is right and having the emptiness of their hypocritical words exposed. Moreover, many adopting such rhetoric and policy may have genuinely good intentions that are merely misdirected. Either way, this could be a key moment to push for a more humane policy on refugees.

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FARRAGO WORKSHOP SERIES Week 1 — Friday 27 July 1pm-2:30pm: “How to break into the media” with Tracie Winch, freelance writer, former ABC journalist and producer and lecturer in journalism at RMIT and UoM talks tactics. Week 2 - Wednesday 1 August 10am-11:30am: “News writing for print and broadcast” — Gus Goswell, discusses his experiences working as a journalist across various platforms at the ABC, and provides practical advice for aspiring news writers. RSVP to our event listing through Mag Farrago’s facebook www.facebook.com/farragomag Stay tuned for details of workshops later during semester —including interview techniques, feature writing and MORE MORE MORE!

Life S’port: “Tennis, a self-serving sport” (optional title if you need one) By Kevin Hawkins

(A)POLITICAL GAMES WITH KEVIN HAWKINS

n South Africa, you can learn a lot about racial dynamics by watching sport. At least that’s what I did when I visited the country three years ago; I tended to skip the monotonous museums and head straight for the crowded stadiums. My first experience at a South African rugby match will almost definitely be my last. There was something unnerving about sitting among a homogenous collective of giant Anglo-Saxons with thick Afrikaans accents. There was so much testosterone flying around that afternoon that I returned to my hostel with a hairy chest. My trip to the football—the European kind, that is—was just as intimidating. Not only was I the whitest member of the audience, but as the only person without a vuvuzela I was also the quietest. Scared for my safety, I spent the duration of the match with one eye on my hip pocket and the other on the clock, impatiently waiting for the 90th minute to strike. The most diverse crowd I came across was at the cricket. While the audience predominantly consisted of Indians and Aussie expats, the game still managed to draw significant groups of both black and white fans. They were united by a common cause: cheering against Australia. There were no surreal scenes of black and white hands grasping one another in harmony. But for a country whose name became synonymous with its nationwide policy of discrimination based on skin colour, this was progress. Such progress not only speaks volumes about the magic of cricket, but reveals the potential power of sport in general. As much as sport can divide populations and incite savage tribalism, it can also mend wounds or, at the least, shrug parties free of political tension.

Sport can be a force for both good and evil. And there’s no better testament to that than the Olympics. When the ancient Greeks created the competition 3,000 years ago, it was branded as an apolitical event. To ensure the safety of athletes, competing nations called a lunch break on their wars, legal disputes and death penalties. The Olympics thus gave rise to civilised behaviour, if we overlook the fact that show pony athletes competed naked, fans participated in drunken orgies and a sport known as pankration was considered normal. Google it. These days the Olympics have a bit of everything. Every four years, 200 nations come together, each determined to get their hands on the valuable natural resources of gold, silver and bronze. What could possibly go wrong? A summary of contemporary Olympiad history reads like a 20th century textbook. All the classic narratives of the era—from civil rights movements to global wars to technological innovations (read performanceenhancing drugs)—are reflected in the carnival’s unintentional political narratives. Most notably, the United States and the Soviet Union—both concerned about a lack of international attention—temporarily turned the athletics field into a battlefield. Their mutual hatred for one another brought boycotts back into vogue, making the Olympics about as apolitical as Gina Rinehart. Yet, for all the unfortunate conflicts the Olympics have inherited from the world at large, the international competition occasionally feeds us with inspirational highlights. I think of North and South Korea marching under a Unification Flag at the

2000 and 2004 Games. Cynics might have considered it an artificial gesture, but it was a step in the right direction, even if it was only to educate the Northerners that not everyone marches with dead-set precision. Moreover, there’s something wonderful about watching athletes from hostile nations shake hands before an Olympic event. Sure, they may be kicking each other in the face or wrestling one another to the ground seconds later, but their fighting is all conducted in the name of peace. Then there’s the intrinsic joy for impoverished underdogs. Who doesn’t get excited when nations like Togo pick up bronze medals in kayak slalom? On the overall medal tally, such a result is negligible, but the collective ecstasy the award brings to nations more synonymous with corruption than competition is immeasurable. These tear-jerking moments are perhaps nothing more than misleading teasers, but they momentarily offer us the prospect of utopia. They let us live fleetingly as naïve Miss World contestants, affirming the possibility of world peace. It’s impossible to predict what kind of Olympic spirit London will bring. Already the ostensible similarities between the 2012 logo and the word Zion have got Iran a bit hot and bothered, but as of yet there have been no boycotts staged or bans implemented. I’d consider that a relatively good start. With the likes of Syria, Iraq, Saudi Arabia and Israel/USA competing in this year’s event, there will be more than a few match-ups worth watching. But for the sake of humanity, let’s hope sport is the real winner in 2012.

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FEELING A LITTLE QUEER WITH HOMO ERECTUS Re: Exoticisation of Race— Harmless Sexual Preference or Degrading Fetish?

they want to suck him and be fucked by him because of the stereotype of monster black cock, etc. He said he does get guys who objectify him by race or who are just interested in Wassup y’all??? The last few black cock, but that he doesn’t mind weeks have been a whirlwind – so much because it is all part of a beatnickin’ and roadtrippin’ around sexual fantasy – as long as the sex is the US of A and Quebec. Thus hot and the guy is nice, go nuts (pun far my (s)exploits have included intended). In his words, being an an unbelievably hot German in a ‘exotic sex symbol’ is something he’s suburban park in LA, doubling up happy to play up to, except when with a lunchtime BJ with a bearded hipster followed by a dinner date and that becomes just about monster cock the full works with a scientist in San stereotypes and nothing else. Over the years I’ve copped quite Fran (Slutty McSlut), Death Valley (No sex. Camping with lesbians. Also a bit of flack for voicing the opinion that I find black men sexy. And it 47 degrees) and Celine Dion (better always confuses the buggery out of than sex) in Vegas. My latest tryst was today, with a very sexy chocolate me. I didn’t have sexytime with Black Russian because he is black, I had queer in Montreal. Let’s call him the Black Russian. The latter is what sexy time with him because he is a respectful, intelligent and thoughtful we’re concerned with today. dude who happens to be black and During our initial Grindr conversations, we had a little chatsky attractive and has beautifully smooth skin and amazing abs. Noticing about racial exoticisation in gay communities. I brought it up because the colour of someone’s skin and appreciating their beauty, part of recently I had had a conversation which may be created because of their with a gorgeous and good friend racial background, isn’t racist. Nor is of mine, the resplendent Esti, with it racial objectification or fetishisation, whom I have had the absolute especially when you find two-a-penny pleasure of travelling to the States, Grindr fuckwits stating ‘no curry/no about my plan for lots of sexytime rice’ in their profiles. with many a black dude while on I get that colonial history has vacay. I said it partly in jest, partly been extremely unkind to many in truth. Esther chided me ever so races, often at the hand of my slightly, and we ended up having forebears, but that shouldn’t mean an informing discussion about how Stevie Wonder can sing about ‘Jungle fucking someone because of their Fever’ and Janet Jackson can sing race is tantamount to racism. I had about her ‘light skin, dark skin’ and never really thought about this and I ‘her Asian persuasion’ but I can’t agree—to an extent. voice my attraction to non-white However, I think that the guys I find sexy because I happen to question of racism through racial be white. fetishisation versus sexual preference Anyway, that is all for now. or attraction is one that is too often Next update will be Iceland/Europe/ hijacked and misrepresented in Israel, where I plan for filthy Aryan our over-educated, let’s-assuageescapades (is that fetishising race?), Western-guilt-by-being-overly-PC some Portuguese muscle and a dash bubble. I’m not saying that we of Middle Eastern meat; kosher and shouldn’t be mindful of racism halal of course. and we shouldn’t work against it. However, my attraction to “less Lovingly as always, white” men is not racism. Homo Black Russian and I had a very satisfying session. But it was our PS. Once again, please check out discussion on exoticisation that really my blog. This time I’ll actually give fired me up. I asked him what he you the correct web address: http:// feels when guys make it clear that thehomoerectus.wordpress.com.

FARRAGO — EDITION FIVE 2012

Misanthropology

SARINA MURRAY

don’t have a gaydar. I am one. I think the last heterosexual thing to happen to me was emerging from my heterosexual mother’s heterosexual uterus. And even that involved being inside a woman. It’s damn lucky I’m a queer. I can see myself attracting men, but only in the post-war, pre-sex-lib epoch. Even then, this would not be for my domestic prowess, but rather for my ability to act as doting beard to a series of suitors who share my Judy Garland devotion*. If I like you, you have an 80 percent chance of being queer. But if I don’t like you, you still have a decent likelihood of sexual deviance. I discriminate, and please know, it has nothing to do with where you stick your fist. As with any grouping of persons, there are gays incapable of making conversation. I once found myself in a talk about microoppression with some private school-educated radiqueers. As they discovered a way to fit ‘privilege’ into a sentence six times, I discovered my mind drifting to the relative merits of chips versus potato cakes. If you ask what I’m reading, and I mumble something about battering, double check before presuming I know anything about death in police custody. There are queers with poor hygiene and inflated self opinions who make bad choices, have bad taste and do cruel things. Much like everyone else. We can’t all be role models and when I do face a room full of straighties, I worry that they’ll use their experience with my scowling visage as an excuse to write off all lesliebeans. But outside super-rad circles, it’s hard to find a

queer ‘community’ that isn’t one of two things. The first is a monolithic group banding together for marriage rights. These types attempt to seem as straight as possible, and write off any criticism of asshole traits as gay-hate. If it weren’t for the perceived threat to the perceived rugged masculinity posed by the perceived butt-fuckery, I could call a gay a dickward without being ousted for treason from the republic of Homotopia. Without the yelling crazies of the Australian Christian Lobby, I’d be able to bitch about you as much as I damn well fancy. On the other side, there’s the pressure of sexy sex. Because the dominant ‘LGB’ part of ‘LGBTQIA’ is united by groin-matching shenanigans, many people will only use queer spaces as some sort of face-to-face Grindr or MeaningfulRom anticRelationshipFoundat ionr. This means it’s super superficial. As though a failure to meet the hetero world’s demands of what I should look like weren’t enough, they’re accompanied by derision from the more bent bits of my life. My flannel is the wrong kind of ugly, my coloured jeans are the wrong colour and my skirts aren’t quite radical enough to reconstitute femininity. Whoops. If I interrogate someone’s queerness, it’s not a waterboarding. I just ask myself whether I’d be willing to get them a glass of water. But when I say “fuck off, faggot,” the “faggot” is neutral—the “fuck off” is not. *I still imagine the foundation of Glee’s Rachel/ Finn partnership is her realisation she’ll never attract another straight man.