And still I am haunted...

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.

- Matthew 5:9

I once threw the keys into the neighbour's yard.

In my defence, I was a child. Not that that absolves me. I've made a scene on more than one occasion. I'm usually the first to scream. But if I didn't scream, someone else would have.

It's easy to seem like the better person if you avoid confrontation. It's kind of like a game of emotional chicken. If you both stay quiet too long, the problem will consume both of you and destroy the relationship you had. And the person who opens their mouth first will get the blame for screaming.

It's really dependent on who will lay aside their pride, and fight for the relationship (be it a friendship, a family relationship, or a sexual one). I have always been quick to scream. Not because I have any real moral virtue, but because I cannot stay silent. I am terrible at the game, I was simply born wholly passionate and impulsive.

And so, I'll never be a child of God. I am destined only to scream others into heaven.

So yeah anyway, insomnia strikes again.

Tashblogs and Appearances

First off, this is very much inspired by the lovely tashblog.
Credit where credit is due.

I know that I put guards up around virtually everyone. I aim to be kooky, full of smiles, and just a little bit outrageous.

I guess it's easier, because I call on genuine facets of my personality to hide others. And I see everyone do this. A person can seem to be one person with their friends, and another with their family; but neither is necessarily dishonest.

This is a skill I call on in my fiction writing, taking some characteristics, amplifying them, and hiding others. And there you have a character.

"Is the story... real?"

It is, and it isn't. Sometimes I take things somewhere else, sometimes I mesh things together that were previously separate, sometimes I introduce something entirely foreign. It's a mix between my real world experiences, and the crazed imaginings that I weave in.

I remember, in writing my novella last semester, adding in jealousy where I felt none. I also had elements of supernatural horror. I made caricatures of my worst attributes, extending them until the characters ultimately regressed due to the bonds of their own shortcomings. I know, it wasn't the most uplifting novella.

Wait, where was I?

Oh right, I was talking about how we portray ourselves. I think it would be boring just to be the one person all the time. I play with it a little. Sometimes I put on my creepy Tim Minchin shirt, and a pair of black skinny jeans - with copious eyeliner to boot - and go all moody on the train, listening to my iPod. I like creating a persona for my trips on public transport, which drops the instant I see someone I actually know.

I don't think this is lying, or dishonest. It's just a way to lose yourself for a moment, and concern yourself with someone else's problems. A breather, if you will.

I think I've contradicted myself a few times. Deal with it. I am.

blah blah blah love blah

I get the feeling that people in not-so-good relationships look at good ones, and imagine it's unattainable.

"Oh, they're just perfect together."

Well, that's not quite how it works.

"Bottom line: it's couples who are truly right for each other wade through the same crap as everybody else, but the big difference is they don't let it take them down. One of those two people will stand up and fight for that relationship every time. If it's right, and they're real lucky, one of them will say something."
- Dr. Cox, Scrubs

Yes, I'm using popular culture for a citation, but that's just because I'm cool. The point is that in good relationships there are misunderstandings, there are differences of opinion, and there are fights.
The difference is that everything gets worked through. The two people talk about it with respect and honesty, and work out a solution. Sometimes it's hard to broach the subject, but it gets done anyway.

Sure, maybe I'm presumptuous to say I'm in a "good relationship", but it is coming up to the three year mark. And when we started, the average relationship length was about three weeks. Sixteen-year-olds are a fickle breed.

I don't know. Sometimes it wont work out, regardless.

Edible Rainbows!

I'm trying this thing... where I eat healthier.

I mean, it's not like my waistline is ballooning or anything. I just want to see colours in my food. For the record, I'm one of those girls that doesn't seem to gain weight.

So, after I write this blog, I will trot into the kitchen and create a salad (for uni tomorrow) from the contents of my fridge: ham, philadelphia cheese, iceberg lettuce, carrot and strawberries. Now you can create edible rainbows too!

I think I'll make up some iced tea, also. Rooibos tea with honey is very, very good iced.

This endeavour is also riding on the guilt trip my dear boyfriend has laid upon me, since he found out I had a ritual of buying 3 chupa chups, 2 chocolate bars and a 600mL coke every time I go to university. His concerns were monetary, though.

So anyway, going for colours in my food. Because colours are pretty. =)

Election commentary

I've been listening to the radio, and reading comments on forums and news websites. I can't be sure that Labor supporters wouldn't be just as retarded in the same position, but it doesn't really matter anyway. I'm pretty openly supportive of the Greens.

On the radio, Coalition-lamenters were crying "communist" (especially in relation to the Greens, but a few times it was directed towards Labor) and a few mentioned the "death of democracy". Oddly enough, this is true democracy. Sure, it looks like a few have the power to be 'kingmakers', but each of the independents have no more real power than a Coalition MP. Or a Labor MP for that matter.

They're the "swinging voters" of the House of Representatives.

The Coalition is also crying that they won much more of the 'primary vote'. I've been hearing this since election night, and Sarah Hanson-Young's retort (to a Liberal Senator) was that if the system worked like that, the Greens should hold seventeen seats. It's not as if the Coalition won >50% of the primary vote anyway (ABC says they got 43.7%). Essentially, for me, that is a moot point.

And so, I will leave you with a quote from a lovely 4BCradio caller:
"I'm glad Julia got in, because she's the second born, so she's the better choice."

I'm just glad that I never have to listen to Oakeshott explain his decision about something ever again.

Splitting Headache

Something that's becoming increasingly frustrating is finding out that a console game has online co-op, and no local co-op. Basically, I can play through Dynasty Warriors: Strikeforce with someone on the other side of the world; but playing with the person sitting next to me is off-limits.

I choose to name Dynasty Warriors simply because the entire point of buying that game (and all preceding versions) was to play local co-op. The story is pretty crap, the graphics are pretty average; but it's fun beating up armies with my boyfriend. So it was much to my dismay that while the gameplay has improved significantly in Strikeforce, local co-op was left out. And there are other culprits, too.


So my question is: What is scaring developers about split-screen?

It's not that it isn't visually viable - I remember playing 4-way split-screen on a TV half the size of my current one. And it's an old CRT, so it's probably on the crappier side of things.

It just feels like if you want a real gaming console - I say "real" because the Wii is not really designed for the average gamer, and is in a different class (in my opinion) - you forfeit the chance to play anything co-op in person.

Yeah, yeah I know. Dead or Alive, Soul Calibur and Tekken (etc.) remain. They aren't actually co-op - you play against each other.

Think twice about your ballot paper.

I'm thoroughly sick of this election. I think it makes me ashamed to be Australian.

The entire campaign goes against those "traditional Aussie values" both parties love to carp on about.

People complain about how it's so horrible that there is bullying in schools. They explain that the increase in digital communication has taken it to new and sinister places. And yet, these same people will vote in one of the two major parties every election. They will vote in one of two parties that have been bombarding every media outlet with smear campaigns. There's no dignity in this. Just because it's reciprocal doesn't mean it's not bullying.

Don't reward this abysmal behaviour. Make a stand. If you really care about the kids, show them that it doesn't pay off to act this way. And if you don't care about the kids, then make a stand anyway. For yourself. Show that you want an Australia which has dignity and class.

People shouldn't be judged by how they treat their friends, but by how they treat their enemies. Anyone can be nice to someone who agrees with them.

And since I haven't seen one policy out of Gillard this entire campaign, and I think Tony Abbott has a total of four (including STOPPING THE BOATS - entirely misguided), you have so very little to lose on actual political matters.

What I have learnt from videogames:

The RPG hero can scale high walls, jump superhuman heights and is generally deadly. However, they give up when faced with a step that wouldn't faze a regular toddler.

Everybody needs good neighbours

I'm pretty sure our neighbour is trying to spy on us.

I have good reason. He tells our landlord that our house is 'lit up like a Christmas tree at all hours of the night', and has suggested "jokingly" that if we clear a little more of the shrubbery that separates our houses, he can 'keep an eye on the place'.

Furthermore, he's clearing everything on his side of the fence. It's creeping me out.

There is a gap between the shed and the courtyard lattice, which is about a metre from the edge of our property. It is now virtually clear. This is in view of my bathroom and my back door.

My bathroom windows are visually impenetrable from the outside, so it's okay, but it's the principle. (Hurrumph!)


In other news regarding my neighbourhood; Someone likes hanging up chip packets on our gate, and there are expletives in yellow chalk on the pavement. Fun.

I hope there's a more interesting story behind that: Something disembodied wrote on the pavement in yellow chalk, haunting the child as he ate his salt and vinegar chips. Really, the chips were not his, but he had claimed them from the trembling hands of the girl with the hook to her nose. The girl had a guardian spirit, and this was it. Its methods were not like those you would think. Poetic justice has no place here - only hard words in soft chalk.

If only.

Microfiction

I own my teacup. I was able to take this rickety old teacup and renovate it. Others rent theirs. Mostly with cannabis. Though I've heard tell that the currency used to be opium.

Regardless, this one's mine, and I'm not giving it up.

Occasionally my teacup breaks. That's when I talk to Jo, mostly. She tends to forget about me.

This place was razed to the ground after the zoo incident. The walls are trembling just thinking about it. The old tasmanian devil died before her eyes. No violence, just life leaving the body. Jo cried.

“What the fuck, Jo,” Barney had scolded, “they're horrible creatures anyway.” Jo looked up, then averted her eyes. The girl walked to the nearest bench.

“C'mon 'tard, I didn't mean it,” he called out, “I just don't see why you care about it. It's not cute or anything.”

Jo has a mild behavioural disorder. Knowing this, Barney had begun to refer to Jo as his 'social retard'.

A sharp realisation met Jo on the bench. Barney was a prick.

Her head made the decision. Emotionally she was shattered, much like my dear old teacup. Jo and I picked up the pieces together.

I eventually helped her heart catch up with her head. I suppose I had an agenda. My teacup residence depends on her happiness.

Patriotism - oh hey there.

Overseas, Australians have become known chiefly as racists in the last few years. The old defense, "I'm not racist, but..." just isn't cutting it anymore. And I mean, I know a lot of you really aren't racist, but you're xenophobic. And the only defense for xenophobia is ignorance.

And that is why I get wholly confused when people start asking everyone to "assimilate" or leave. There will always be a problem while we still use words like assimilate and tolerate, rather than integrate and accept.

It's not fair or adult to ask someone to shrug off their culture just because yours has become the norm. Sure, you might want to be able to interact with them, and you might be a bit tentative because they have customs you're not familiar with. But the problem is, the people spouting these xenophobic lines - in my experience - live in almost wholly white neighbourhoods. Who are these people they want to assimilate into their culture?

I have to presume it's a media thing. And I guess the lack of diversity in their own neighbourhood fuels their disinterest in educating themselves about these other parties.

"Boat people" are generally people whose original country is in such disarray and so dangerous that they cannot reach an Australian embassy. They aren't "jumping the cue", and we aren't taking all of them. Britain, that tiny little densely populated country that we spilled off from, takes in more asylum seekers. In Australia, it's 1 for 1583 people (population of 22 million). In Britain, it's 530 (population of 62 million). And roughly 90% of those arrive by plane.

Asylum seekers are people who are seeking shelter from their country which is often categorised by cases of torture, starvation, war and death.

Moving on from asylum seekers, which aren't actually a big deal; if you still oppose them you obviously have a false sense of entitlement, which is my next issue.

Some Australians have this crazy mix of mindless patriotism and a sense of entitlement which borders on fanaticism. They're the people saying things are "Un-Australian", saying it's the best country in the world (without having left it - I mean, surely you need to do the appropriate legwork?), and telling people to "go home" if they want to change things.

Even if it was "the best", surely we could aim to make it better. If we forget everything about culture and diversity; we still have problems with our schooling, problems with our hospitals, and currently we are in a government deficit. So obviously, we still aren't perfect.

And this entitlement. Where does it come from? You managed to be born within the Australian borders. Cool. What have you actually done to be more worthy of being Australian than someone who comes here on a plane or a boat?

Okay, I'm done.

Les plaisirs de l'hiver

You know how your mother always told you to wear socks in winter? Or ugg boots? Well, mine did.

But once my feet are cold, they don't warm up with just socks. So I would have this phenomenon every time I took my socks off - they were as cold as a packet of frozen peas. This is after an entire day of wearing freaking thermal socks.

Yeah, so I might have bad circulation. But um, I have shortbread, so nerrrrh. Anyway, the only way I have ever been able to remedy what I call pea-feet (yeah, I don't actually say that) is to expose them to things which give off heat. You know: heaters, baths, showers, or (if you're particularly lucky) human skin.

Ah yes, we all know the "Is my hand cold?" line. It's schadenfreude at it's best. Now try it with feet. Sure, it's a little harder to do. But don't you enjoy a challenge? Creep your foot up someone's pant-leg. Casually lie with your feet near someone's abdomen (on the couch or something) and slip them under a jumper. Or, if you want the fifty-pointer, go for the neck (no hints here).

I mean, you don't want to get frostbite.

#First World Problems

My boyfriend hates raisin toast. He hates anything to do with sultanas or raisins or genetically modified super sultana-raisin hybrids (or whatever).

So, imagine me pulling a cafe style loaf of raisin toast from the shelf - spicy, and very thick. He pulled his 'Gah Face' at me, like I had agreed to house the Anti-Christ in our spare room.

"No! I want it!" Yeah, I reverted back to a five-year-old. You see, that's how far back my nostalgia for this humble loaf goes. Me and Mumma (and my siblings), waking up early for school, her making me a cup of tea and some raisin toast - before coaxing up the embers in the fireplace.

Later, it was just us in the middle of rural Queensland. I would wake up to an electronic alarm clock (yes, this was before children had mobile phones) and the "ERNH ERNH ERNH" would fill me with rage. However, my mother had been preparing classes since three in the morning, so I would hand her the sixth cup of tea and a slice of raisin toast meekly. My rage would be let out by watching cartoons - their violence sated me.

One day, though - and I remember this clearly, because I felt wholly betrayed - there were no cartoons. Every channel had the news. I was not happy.

"Mummy! My cartoons aren't on!"
"What's that?" she looked at the TV, "Oh."

Al Qaeda, I am to understand you killed hundreds (thousands?) of people, but I think you should answer to the trauma you caused millions of children. Because I have talked about this to many people my age, and they agree - you deprived them of their cartoons. You are monsters.

So anyway, I bought some raisin toast, and the decadently thick slices would not allow my toaster to turn on. I am twice traumatised.

Usurp the throne!

Oh historic day. Gillard glides into the role of Prime Minister so swiftly as to draw attention to the knife stuck between the ribs of her ailing predecessor. It's a fine line.

I think it's sad, and somewhat backward, that this is our first 'Female Prime Minister'. She clothes the ascent of a female to the democratic throne in the scent of Claudius.

The question remains: who is our Hamlet? And who exactly is our Fortinbras?

I don't need no babysitter

I, for one, am sick of my civil liberties being eaten away.

This proposed ‘child porn’ filter is a horrible idea. The deviants who are interested in such things are not stupid enough to use websites (http://) to share content. Anyone who knows anything about the internet other than just using Google knows this. So obviously, Conroy and Rudd have people telling them that it wont work. They know this filter isn’t to block child porn.

So why do they want it in place?

I’ll tell you what they’ll block initially: porn in all its forms (X-Rated porn is illegal in Australia), sites discussing euthanasia, games which are designed for those over sixteen, and other controversial material.

So you don’t like porn, you aren’t a fan of euthanasia, and you don’t play video games? That doesn’t mean the government should decide that no one should be able to access that material. And it certainly doesn’t mean they should make it illegal to view the blacklisted sites.

That’s the killer for me. It is in complete opposition of transparency. All citizens have a right to know what the fuck their government is doing with their country.

And today, I read this article. Now we are being fined for wanting privacy regarding our health. At fifteen, a minor can get their own Medicare card; which means they can see a doctor without their parents, retaining their privacy. I’m eighteen, and I don’t feel like being babied by my government.

'Feminine' shouldn't be a sexist slur

I don’t like to champion feminism. It’s a very one-sided view of things.

Regardless, I’m going to rage a little. I’m sick of ‘feminine’ being so static. I’m sick of womens’ femininity being treated in the same way the United Kingdom treated Eastern Asia about one hundred and fifty years ago – back when it was ‘The Orient’.

To be honest, I’m sick of people cementing gender divides (most of which are culturally constructed) in the name of feminism.

I’m supposed to be writing an essay on ‘care ethics’ – an idea which in and of itself is not bad – using an article by a female academic as a case study. She makes mention of this idea that ‘until recently’ the few female voices in moral philosophy conformed to the masculine ideas. Then calls ‘care ethics’ a feminine way of thinking about ethics.

Of course, there was the token ‘I know I’m generalising and this isn’t true for everyone’ line. It’s the academic ‘no offense, but…’

Let me explain ‘care ethics’ in layman’s terms. You know how there’s the cultural idea that if a kid wants something, they can ask the lenient parent – who knows the other parent wont let the child have it – instead of the strict one? The lenient parent is using ‘care ethics’. Lenient Parent knows the rules of the strict parent, and bends them to fit the situation.

This is apparently feminine.

Yeah, the only feminine moral theory acknowledged in the article is directly dependent on masculine moral theories to provide rules for the feminine theory to bend. Thank you Miss Academic, for setting us back fifty years.

This feminine way of thinking should be acknowledged as a cultural construct. It is a by-product of growing up in a society that favours the stay-at-home mother. And it still does, believe me. The Simpsons is arguably the most popular television show of the last two decades, and (surprise!) the main mother figure never went to college and is a stay-at-home mum.

From a very young age, we have been told what is expected of us. Girls like pink. Ladies don’t swear. Girls play with dolls. Mummy wears lipstick. You need to wear a dress and heels to a wedding. You’re my little princess. You can’t go out alone at night, you’re a girl. Girls have long hair. Girls are the gentler sex. And they go on, and on, and on.

If you step outside of these expectations, you’re daring the world to deny you your femininity.

You know, I don’t really give a shit if a guy tries to cement these constructs. It’s not that big a deal, you rise above it. But if an educated woman does it, without even a hint of irony, something is really wrong.

Woo update

About a year after I started this blog, I started another. I am going to revert back to this one.

Bam!