Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Wine? More like Whine

Sometimes, I feel like letting my toenails grow out. Excessively, to the point where ants mistake them for great mountain ranges; where I can no longer wear shoes three sizes up, nor shoes six sizes up; where the cheapest sandals make me look quite over-dressed; where they hang so far over my toes that they overshadow the skin, allowing moisture to grow, and in turn, tinea to frolic. I, then, quite content with the state of my disheveled feet, will attempt to dress my feet in three pairs of socks, obviously eight times my foot size, so as to somewhat suffocate my pores, leaving my toes to soften with their own fluids, and then I will proceed to walk for two consecutive weeks in hot. humid weather, and roll the rest of the way if my feet decide to cave in. At this rate, my feet will be in such a putrid state, a state rancid enough for me to satisfy myself in my removing of these socks, and my placing of my feet in a huge barrel of sour grapes that are on the verge of rotting, and my stomping of these grapes so as to make my own wine brand and market it towards people who use the drinking of wine to attribute a solution to their first-world problems.

Why? Because they annoy me. That's why.



That 'class' level you self-righteously and forcefully attempt to ascend to is not much of an ascent. It is nothing to boast about. Not many people uptalk themselves with bad habits and succeed, particularly people who attempt to glorify the consumption of certain substances. So, wine-drinker, you aren't that special. The creation of memes about your obsession with this grape liquid may put you under the false impression that people indeed consider you classy, but I hate to shoo away your aura of pride; that's all it is. A false impression.



I am sick of seeing posts by privileged people living in an urban utopia creating and/or sharing ridiculous memes about the excessive drinking of wine in order to deal with problems that are not at all problematic. These people shelter themselves behind a fermented drink, and confer its importance by increasing the volume of wine they wish to consume. And chances are, that these are the very people who frown upon alcoholism. Wake up, wine-lover, you are an alcoholic. Don't agree? What about those ridiculously over-sized nags that have room to stash your goon-bags in? Don't talk to me about class, when all that promotes is self-indulgence and intemperance.


There are two distinct things that annoy me about the glorification of wine. The first is the wine itself. It is nothing special. It can be overly priced or very under-priced. It is literally grape juice and other stuff. Who cares. Let's move on.


The second is how fashionable it has become, aspect of fashion it holds, which is the trendy application to the consumption of wine to deal with personal ailments. What is so bad in your life that a little perspective does not solve? In fact, that is precisely what the 'classy white wine-drinking citizen' is missing from their life: perspective.


Their life is so unbearable that they must drown it out with the biggest cup of wine they can find (or bottle, pictured below). Your meeting went on for thirty extra minutes? Well, you have a fucking job. You have children? Congratu-fucking-lations, you are fertile and/or can financially support yourself as well as a miniature human (or maybe you kidnapped someone else's human, in which case the over-consumption of grape-juice can be excused for the sheer fact that you suck and you made someone else's life suck). You have household chores that you need to do to benefit yourself such as cooking or cleaning so as to maintain your hygiene? Well done, you have a fucking roof above your head and some food to nibble on. You cannot convince me that the bottle below is worth all of the hype. Go on, try. I bet perspective will shut you down on each attempt.


If I ever subject my feet to the torture I wrote about in the first paragraph of this post, I will be sure to create the best-fitting label to affix to my wine bottles, which will lather ever so perfectly the following fancily typed product name: WHINE. Because that's all the people who consume this drink do. 

Stop whining about petty things and listen to people who have real things to complain about. Maybe then you'll turn whine to care, and wine to water, and offer your vacant slots of sympathy to those who truly need it. 









Thursday, March 9, 2017

Female Light Signals in Victoria: Equal Lights

I think that while it's quite easy to sit there and criticize a new implementation that has been introduced in Melbourne, it's worthwhile to have a think about it overnight, and wake up the next morning and say, hey, Melbourne, good on you for introducing that new implementation: an additional gendered silhouette:



For those of you who do not know Melbourne, those internationally residing or nationally residing and who have no geographical inclination whatsoever, Melbourne is the New York of Australia, nestled neatly at the bottom of the Land Down-Under, overrun with easygoing cafes and lovely bearded men. And now this lovely urban cesspool of hipsters and blue-collar workers who despise greenies (for those of you who don't know who the 'greenies' are, they are a government party who care for... a lot. They just care so much that others have chosen not to care about them) have another reason to despise greenies, because of this so-called 'embarrassing' attempt at gender equality. The greenie in particular being Misha Coleman, pictured below, the white lady who fell for the 'Green Lady':

The irony. A greenie lady fighting for a green lady. She justified her support of the green lady by saying that, “from when kids are young enough to walk they are given an instruction by a man and it has never occurred to any of us that that is inherently so bias. [...] I’m a mother of two young children and we always talk about waiting for the ‘green man’." So perhaps it is time for kids to wait for 'green woman' too?

One would think that people would be impartial to the adding of a different light. However, much like the whole pushing-forth-gender-equality movement, adding a dress to an otherwise undressed crossing figure has sparked outrage. I have heard the most preposterous reactions to this light, particularly from one fellow who claimed that you have to be dressed like Mary Poppins to cross the road. Well, prior to the installation that light, did you have to be a buff, nude and bald man to cross the road? And if this fellow wishes to further argue, I can argue that he cannot cross regardless, lest he had no toes nor fingers nor a nose because hose are the features that the lit up green and red man lacks. And this 'Mary Poppins' light is not representing Mary Poppins at all, though I do appreciate the fellow's sense of humour: it is a silhouette of Mary indeed, but Mary Rogers, the first female elected to local government. But that is beside the point - that light was added to a suburb in Melbourne, Richmond, in May 2016. It was to commemorate her contributions to council including Victoria's first maternal and child health service - that is to say that this fellow's argument is a year old, redundant, and highly inconsiderate:


And all that fuss over one light - ONE light. Look how happy the fellows above are, why can't this fellow be, too? I mean, really, if that light is so difficult for you to accept, perhaps you should have your social equality epilepsy diagnosed before it grows out of control.


I digress. Back to the topic at hand: Misha Coleman has pushed the idea that gender equality may be accessed through the adding of more female figures in the little boxes that help colour-identifying humans cross the roads as safe and civilized pedestrians. Thankfully for Cr Coleman, the Committee for Melbourne has answered her social prayers, however, much to the dismay of the community of Melbourne.

And, to think, that all the fuss is about an adding to a triangular shape to a male-figure shape in order to entice one's mind to believe in the difference in genders. Behold; from this:


... to this!


If anything, I am outraged that society still expects to represent through semiotics, the presumption that if one were to wear a dress, one is considered a 'female' as opposed to a male who would not, presumably, wear such attire. THAT is something to be outraged over. And one cannot be outraged over that through the adding of these 'female lights' because it would be unwise, as our toilet signs also use the same silhouette to express gender differences when it comes to the public relieving of bowels. So, really, all of the outrage coming from people who think this act does not encourage gender equality is decades too late.

These lights, albeit with their constraining representations of both men and women, bring forth some positive change: "well," said the 'female' light to the 'male' light, "if they expect you to look like that, then I'll sit here because they expect me to look like this, so let's sit here together in harmony and direct these directionless citizens with two colours and hope they don't fuck up the simple task of crossing the road as much as they have fucked up gender equality already. And if they want to call this gender equality, then so be it!"

In that sense, gender equality has certainly been achieved. Both males and females are now suppressed in that they are represented by inadequately dressed (or in the case of the male light, undressed) lit up silhouettes. Now, we should try to help our children listen to both men and women in terms of road-crossing safety, as well as subliminally condition them to believe that a female should look like so, and a male should look like so. 



We are, like the gentleman below, affixing the conditioning of our society to our society. We are restricting ourselves from the freedom of self and expression. While it may have looked as though assigning both female and male lights is a solution to gender equality, we have, paradoxically, added a new negative ingredient to the concoction, instead ensnaring ourselves in a realm which wishes to control.

So, my fellow Melbournians, before you light the fire of outrage, think of what it is that outrages you. Is it the fact that you don't want a female light because adding a female light doesn't really add to gender equality? Or is is the fact that you are distinguishing between a 'female' and 'male' light in the first place?

Maybe, to put both of the above problems at ease, we should instead have LED stick-figures representing us.

Or better yet, a big green and red silhouette of Uncle Sam, to remind us how Orwell predicted the degrading of our society through technology. Not to mention the continued suppression by our government. 1984, people.


Or better yet, a big green and red silhouette of Uncle Sam, to remind us how Orwell predicted the degrading of our society through technology. Not to mention the continued suppression by our government. 1984, people.

But do not hate the initiative. Initiative can bring change. Hate the initiator, because the initiator initiated the wrong initiative. A greater initiative which would have pushed forth gender equality would be equal marriage rights. But we can't do that, because gendered lights at pedestrian crossings are more important to Melbourne and their greenies. Stop caring so much, greenies! Look at what your caring has caused! Social equality epilepsy!



Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Nicki Minaj's Paris Fashion Week Outfit

A woman has exposed her breast to a camera. I repeat: a woman has exposed her breast to a camera.

This exposed breast, albeit with a covered nipple, has enraged fellow humans, owners and non-owners of breasts alike. Onlookers near and far have stared at the freed breast in shock as it hung there in all its bare voluptuousness, hugged by Thierry Mugler; a mound of femininity begging to be regarded. Implied to be an inane display, the person attached to the breast is Onika Tanya Maraj, recognized popularly as Nicki Minaj.

Minaj claimed that, considering she were in Paris, and considering her actions echo that of post-modern art, she would base her outfit on Pablo Picasso's 'La Femme à l'éventail' (1907), translated in English to 'Lady with a Fan'. This piece, coincidentally, was created by Picasso during his 'African Period', which spanned from 1906 to 1909.

source                                                                                             source  

During this period, Picasso's Cubism-rich paintings displayed his temporary obsession with African culture, in particular traditional African masks and African sculptures. The paintings he had completed within this time mainly consisted of women with bare breasts, his crux being 'Les Demoiselles D'Avignon' (1907):


Other works are as follows:

'Nu aux bras levés' (1907)

'Dryad' (1908)

'Trois femmes' (1908)

'Seated Woman (Meditation)' (1908)

'Tête de femme' (1909)

'Buste de femme' (1909)

His exposure of the female breast during this period sparked some people to believe that Picasso was a madman, 'drinking turpentine and spitting fire'. Surely, though, Picasso cannot be seen as a scapegoat. Nor can the many other artists who too sought to display the wonder that is the female figure in the nude in their works:

'Two Girls in the Grass', Otto Mueller, 1919

'Naked Maja', Francisco de Goya, 1800

'Nude (Black and Gold)', Henri Matisse, 1908

'Reclining Nude', Amadeo Modigliani, 1915

'Vanus of Urbino', Titian, 1538

The human body is a delight to regard. It is not obscene, nor is it smutty. It should not be considered a scandal to expose certain parts if one's consent is behind their motive. And what better time to regard the human body than at the Paris Fashion Week?

And have you people forgotten about the 'Free the Nipple!' movement? A movement encouraging equality, empowerment and freedom? Nicki has, in displaying her breast, also displayed that she has equal rights, and that she is empowered because she is free to express herself as she pleases. This is not to incite negative attention, rather to flaunt human expression and freedom. 

Thank you, Nicki, for freeing your breast. Thank you for not listening to societal expectations, and for not allowing yourself to be constrained. Thank you for embodying art, and for embodying change. Thank for your bold move, and for reminding us that it is okay to do as one pleases, without having to think of pleasing others, particularly mainstream media. And thank you for bringing Picasso's visual glory back into the spotlight, as well as art. Art is our savior. Without it, we would be plain, stretched canvases, hung nowhere and exclaiming nothing; making no statements, making no progress.

Ladies, gentlemen, stand in front of your mirrors in the nude and appreciate what you see. Then dress as you please, and attend an art gallery, and appreciate what you see. Jeff Koons would be a great start.

She may have dressed as 'Lady with a Fan', and if I am able to stand next to her, she will definitely too be deemed 'Lady with a Fan'.

FREE THE NIPPLE, AND FREE THE FREER OF THE NIPPLE!