Vote 'whatever'

source

So. Australia, the time has finally come. It is time to talk about gay marriage.

Over 760 million people now live in countries where same-sex marriage is not entirely frowned upon. Now, a number of Australian citizens think it is time for Australia to be one of those countries. Some people, however, do not agree. And that is okay.

Yes. Hello, I am a woman who voted 'yes' on the piece of paper I recently received that offered me two options to the question: 'should the law be changed to allow same-sex couples to marry?', the latter being 'no'. And some people may too have voted 'yes', most not part of the gay community, most a part of it. Some people may have voted 'no', again, most not a part of the gay community, yet some a part of it.

source

Why am I stating the obvious? Well, the obvious does not seem that obvious to some people.

Recently, too, I have noticed that there has been a clash, a battle, a war-cry from the side that screams "HOW DARE YOU VOTE NO?" and a return, from the side that asks "HOW CAN YOU VOTE YES?"

Naturally, said battle would occur, given that some people are for, and some against. That is the way each argument goes. that is the way each debate is structured. That is the way in which you can label people, based on who you personally think are tolerable, and non-tolerable. And that, let me finish with a cliche, is the way the cookie crumbles.

source

But the reason as to why I am writing this today is because people are forgetting about the crumbs in this cookie. People are forgetting to see the obvious, the thing as clear as day, and that is that each person, person A who voted 'yes', and person B who voted 'no', is right.

Both persons are right in that they have expressed their own opinions. Both persons are right in that they have exercised their sense of autonomy, the one thing granted to us in our society, and chosen for themselves, based on their circumstances and personal beliefs, what they think is the right decision for Australia as a whole.

This, however, does not sit well with some persons. Some persons wish for one box to be ticked: YES. How, then, can these people be angry at those who too wish for one box to be ticked: NO, when really, they are expressing the same multitude of hate towards the other?

There has been one Latin phrase which has been ringing strong through my entirety the minute I had chanced upon it. No, it is not 'carpe diem'. That has unfortunately been overly used. The phrase I have in mind, however, unfortunately has not. COGITO ERGO SUM - or, in English, for all you hip people to understand, 'I think, therefore I am'.

I have René Descartes to thank. We all have him to thank, and I hope that you will too, shortly after reading this piece. It is important to consider this Latin phrase as it is, I think, the most humane phrase there exists for every thinking, rational human being sharing this planet with other beings. It posits that because I am alive and I am well in thought, I am alive. I exist because so too does my mind, and my mind exists because I do. I think, therefore I exist. I think, therefore I am. Cogito ergo sum.

I digress from English momentarily to tell you that Descartes' little phrase is pertinent to all of us. To all those who have been, all those who are, and all those who will be. You think, therefore you are. Take a second to take it in. Breathe it in. Read these words and accept them: you matter, because you think, and therefore you are important because of your thoughts. You have autonomy over what you believe in.

Okay. Now that we have got that out of the way, let me reel you back in to why I am writing this today: I am rather upset at the fact that some people are opposed to those with opposing views to theirs. 

Listen, person opposed to opposing views. Just because you hold a particular belief, it does not mean that it is the only belief that should exist. Take me, for example. I am a human who falls in love with other humans, based on their intellectual merit and the ways in which they too view me as a human being, as opposed to the status quo notion of dubbing falling in love as a pursuit of completion and opposite-gender-based-attraction. And yes, I voted 'YES'. I wish to marry who I please, in the event that I ever do wish to be married in the future. I also wish to divorce who I please, in the event that after I am married, I wish to exit that marriage - thankfully, the sanctity of marriage is not as valued and I can partake in said divorce without waiting for a vote.

I digress, again. But yes, I voted 'YES'. I wish to live in an ideal society where my views are valued. And hey, I am a rational, thinking human being who understands that people who voted 'NO' also wish to live in an ideal society where their views are also valued. To them, that is a utopia. To me, a dystopia. But our views will differ, because our opinions differ. The only difference is, that between me and the person opposed to those whose views oppose theirs, is that I accept that there are different views, and they do not.

I am aware, that inherently, there are two choices in this matter, and though some people are not in agreement with others, that every opinion matters because different people have different belief systems, and different modes of thought based on circumstances and experiences.

What I am saying is, that I voted 'YES', and I think it is okay if you did not.

What I am saying is, be humble. Kendrick Lamar says this too:

source

People parading that whole, "I AM GAY, FEEL SORRY FOR ME, I AM GAY AND THEREFORE NOT FEELING GAY BECAUSE I CANNOT MARRY WHO I AM GAY WITH" - please, be seated. I mean, if you are sincerely upset about this, I am with you, but if you are sincerely upset and opposing those who oppose your view, then I am sorry, but I do not ascribe to your way of approaching matters that are sensitive to most.

You voted 'yes'? Great. Cool. Your choice. You voted 'no'? Great. Cool. Your choice.

That is how the response to either vote should be.

It is OKAY to vote whatever you wish, so long as you are abiding by your personal belief system. So long as you are aware that you, and others, are autonomous beings. Your government is offering you a CHOICE. That is something that most governments do not offer.

Cough. North Korea. Cough.

Our government has been so kind as to offer us a voting sheet that allows two choices, that caters for two modes of thought, two kinds of lifestyles. Our government accepts that there will exist two sides in an argument. Our government, surprisingly, is acting more rational than most people involved in this voting catastrophe. It is even more rational than the lady who fired an employee who voted 'no'.

My favorite theorist, Martin Heidegger, was a nazi. I won't capitalise that word, it is already enough that I had to mention it, and I already regret doing this, but I need to make my point. My supervisor advised me not to include his art theory in my thesis, but I decided to regardless. My thesis made a significant splash in academia for me. I was able to speak about it in a literary conference, I was offered a PhD position at Monash University, and I have received admittance to the Golden Key Honours society. 

I do not ascribe to nazism. I am against it, by choice, but though Heidegger was not, I still appreciate his mode of thought, and some of his theories. Do my opinions match his? No. Do I think that his existence mattered? Yes. He thought, therefore he was. I think, therefore I indeed am. 

My grandfather told me an interesting story, once. There was a priest on his way home from mass. In a nearby field, he heard someone screaming for help. He approached this figure, and noticed this figure was satan.

"Why would I want to help you?" asked the priest.

"Well," satan responded. "Think about it this way: if you don't, people won't have a reason to come to church anymore."

The priest promptly helped satan to his feet, took him home, and nursed him back to health.

Good and evil will always exist. There will always be what you think is good, and what you think is evil, as well as what someone else thinks is good, and what someone else thinks is evil; what matters is the path YOU take, and the person you craft yourself out to be, as well as the path you leave vacant for someone else to walk along. Be humble, and accept that there will always be two. Be humble, and accept that your opinion is not always right. Be humble, and be yourself, while letting others be themselves too.

Whoever you are, whatever your journey, whatever your circumstance, know that I respect you. I respect your struggle, your belief, your opinion, and I will respect you equally whether you vote 'yes' or 'no'. I just hope that you return the same sentiment.

So vote whatever. Choose your own path, and let others choose theirs. Your opinion is not the only opinion that counts, otherwise we would have all received voting papers with the choice 'YES' alone on it, which defeats the purpose of a vote, really. 

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':

source

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:

source

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.

source

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!

source

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.

source

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.

source

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!

The Voice of English

Ever since I have taken the path towards being an educator, the oath of writing an essay a day and the willingness to teach English, I have been criticised. People question my motives. People wonder why I sacrifice so much time. Some people wonder why I even bother, especially considering that it is English that I adore.

Today, I have answered all of those questions in one simple gesture: the act of kindness and understanding. Today, I have liberated myself from self-labelling as a 'future educator'. Today, despite needing one more year of essay writing and group work, I have granted myself the label 'educator'. 

Today, I witnessed yet another student who has fallen into the cracks of our education system, and that student is one of a Chinese descent. Chan* has been in Australia for around two months now. She is not at all fluent in English, and she had always been sitting around doing nothing when I taught her class. Two lessons ago, I found out about her origins and took her onto my wing. Ever since I found out, I have been describing instructions to her in a simplistic manner so as to ensure her understanding.

There was something special about today, though. Having set homework tasks based on Romeo and Juliet in the last class, I had not expected Fiona to even comprehend any of the task choices. I was proven wrong. Upon asking the students as a whole in today's class if anyone had completed their homework, not one person had responded. They all either looked down, looked up or looked sideways. "Well," I said, "that's very interesting because Chan, who knows hardly any words in English, managed to write an alternate ending for Romeo and Juliet with the help of a translator." the entire class was dumbfounded.

Having volunteered to help Chan fix up her internet account in the IT department, whilst waiting for the IT people to return to their workstations, I stood with Chan in the hallway and spoke to her about her life in China compared to life in Australia. "I have so many options here," she told me. "In China we have boring subjects. We don't have cooking classes even." It occurred to me that we take our education system for granted here. We indeed do have many options. After that brief discussion, Chan said, "homework?" and proceeded to open up her English folder. She pulled out a tidy sheet with handwriting on it, which was the alternate ending to Romeo and Juliet. 

I asked if she could read it to me just so that I could check whether or not she had written it, at least f she could read it out she would have some sort of understanding of it. And she did. She even laughed at all of the funny parts, marvelling at how humorous her writing was. She was glowing. I asked her if she wanted to read it to the rest of the class when before we finished from the IT department. She looked down, and said "maybe they laugh. Maybe they make me embarrassed." I told her "if anything, they should feel embarrassed that you can write something in another language!" 

She did not end up reading it. But I did guilt trip the rest of the students by mentioning her completion of a task. And in the entire delivery of my lesson, she was smiling. She was fully attentive, trying everything that I asked of the class. All it takes is consideration. I imagined myself in another country, that speaks a language foreign to me and I cringed. Chan is so brave. It is not fair for those who are not familiar with English to be left behind. English is an important means of communication, and students born here that are fluent in it should grant themselves lucky, because out there, there are students who have no idea about what is going on, and they are looking for somebody, anybody, to assist them in learning.

It just takes that extra effort. Not at all strenuous, and all the while extremely rewarding. For the rest of my stay at my placement school, I will continue to ensure that Chan is receiving every bit of help that I can offer because she is one of the students who has a care for what I have to say - why would I not want to hear what she has to say as well?



*name changed to protect privacy of the student

Power to the People

source

Sometimes I think that if I were in some sort of danger in public, there would be a lack of care because of the obsession society has with what constitutes as a 'good look'. In that case, I certainly do not have it. And I am glad.

I am glad because in yet another way I do not conform. But deep down, I know that apart from the distance I create between myself and others, that I protrude even more because of my lac of conformity. Sometimes it is beneficial for me to stay away from most of society, yet when it comes to things like careers or fitting within a group for the purpose of teamwork, it brings me down. As well as all of that, I am surrounded by people who would rather save true damsels in distress, the petite figured blonde girls who speak in a tone of voice three-hundred notches too high and one-hundred IQ points too low.

But today I read about a man from Perth who had his leg stuck between the train and the platform. Fellow transport travellers soon ran to his aid and assisted him in removing his leg without having his leg removed. He had slipped, and fallen through the gap during peak hour in the morning.

source

It is breath-taking to see a large horde of absolute strangers gather together and assist this one man. This group of strangers, whose caffeine had not yet kicked in had used instead their adrenaline and leapt closer to the platform so as to push away as much as they can a heavy body of a train carriage. I wonder how much positive energy exists in the conglomeration of several good deeds at once in one area? However much does exist, I know for a fact that I wish I was in that energetic field this morning.

A while ago I was going to enter a writing competition based on compassion. I sat there for months, totally stumped on how to approach this huge theme that I had not witnessed a lot on. I had no experience in such a thing, it seems so surreal in a world focussed on fast living, capitalism and material objects. It has taken me until now to see that this is the form that compassion embodies. 

I hope that there are more humans out there that are like this. Not the ones standing there taking photographs of this occurrence, but the ones bending over the others in order to reach the carriage to assist that one man and his one leg. 

Four Cougars and Twenty Problems

As an overweight young adult in contemporary society, I constantly feel victimised by the media and its multi-faceted prowess. Today, though, they took it a tad too far, which is nothing our of the ordinary.

Fat-shaming has been circulating around on television and in magazines for years, and just when one thinks that nothing worse could be introduced by a form of technology that has agency over our every notions of thinking, the media has surprised me once again. Just when I thought nothing could be worse, that there can be nothing to potentially further offend me on a personal basis, I see this advertisement on television and I dread the day that I age even more.

This new Four'N Twenty advertisement showcases two Australian 'blokes' purchasing each a meat pie from a very nice woman, who later turned out to have slipped her number onto the napkin of the more Australian looking man, if one were to stereotypically analyse the actor selection of this short clip. The Australian looking man then continues to react in a manner displaying the opposite feeling of contentment.

Ever since when has our society become so fearful of age? Judging by all of the late-night 'cougar' dating site commercials, CougarDating, CougaRed, CougarLife and CougarRoot to name a few, and all of the disgusting requests I receive online from younger men, I fail to see how the people behind this advertisement ever saw any potential for it. 

Even though what I am about to say includes myself, I cannot wait for the next batch of young adults to grow even older than they currently are. I want to see the look on the faces of all those who fear and deny age,  for when they look in the mirror that is all that they will see. When they walk by a lake and ponder upon it, the reflection will resemble that of a fish not built for water that has been left to wrinkle in water for centuries. 

That simile aside, though,  age is a beautiful thing. First of all, it highlights that one has lived for a long time, long enough to hopefully feel fulfilled in one way or another. Second of all, it brings forth the next phases of our evolution. We too are like Pok'emon, and we too level up and learn more skills with age. Not all of us get any wiser, but that is irrelevant. 

I am certain that any Denise out there would get a call back immediately. If not immediately, then certainly some time later that night. After all, she did heat up that pie for him. What kind of man would deny himself the presentation of a fresh pie, and two packets of tomato sauce? Two?!

Melbourne Meteor Spotted on July 10, 2014

Tonight, we, as in my sister, three cousins and I, decided to go play a round or two of billiards at our local fun centre. It is a thing we normally partake in in the duration of the holidays, and it is now so common to us that it has lost its touch of excitement.

But tonight was a spectacular night, reason not being the fact that we bought pizza after our return to our cousins' home. It was rather something that we spontaneously spotted whilst driving to get pizza. Looking ahead, listening to the strange tunes of Die Antwoord, my older cousin took me by surprise when she exclaimed, "shooting star! Meteor! What is that?! Look!" Immediately we all turned our heads to see this blazing bright white object with a flare-looking trail lit up behind it, shooting down into the valley we were passing by. 

It tail slightly curved, it fell down for about fifteen to twenty seconds. Just before it disappeared from our sight, it split into two and then had a green glow to it. We spent the next hour both mesmerised by the sight, and frightened from it. Mesmerised because neither of us had witnessed a meteor falling, and frightened because we suspected it either to be a plane falling because of the closeness of the airport, or an alien's spaceship. Yes, for a number of minutes we thought that intelligent life was going to come from the space and interrogate us on our intelligence. Though, I must admit, they might not have found what they were looking for. Naturally, we spent all time after that playing the 'what-if' game and applying it to an alien invasion scenario.

I am glad to have not missed the sight of this meteor, though. For once, something out-of-this-world, literally, happens in my city and I do not miss it. Earthquakes have happened and I have not felt them, giant balls of hail have fallen and I have not seen them, but now I can proudly say that I witnessed this meteor/UFO/space junk/plane falling. What made the night better was that we hung around the last area that we spotted it and ate vegetarian pizza as we hypothesised between what we just saw and what we thought we saw.

If you missed it, imagine the photograph above, which I took on my iPhone, with an elongated tail that was cloudy and red towards the meteor, and imagine the meteor being bright white - the brightness of if was what led us to believe that it could have been a plane falling because it resembled the same brightness of plane headlights. The tail was far longer, but this picture is obviously pixelated. As horribly unprofessional as this photo is and the video at the beginning of this post is, I am glad I was able to witness this occurrence. The photo and video below are more accurate, taken by someone else:

source

Space is interesting. This just goes to show that leaving the warmth of your house in the coldness of a winter night can prove beneficial, not only through the acquiring of a fresh warm pizza, but also because of the random sighting of a meteor. 

Beached: the Breaking News that Sparked Cultural Differentiation

source

Ever since I was squeezed through my mother's menstrual passage, ever since my umbilical cord was sliced into and I breathed my first breath and cried my first tears, I have been torn between two cultures.

Today that tearing was emphasised by the viewing of one 'BREAKING NEWS!' segment, which I did not witness by sight by involuntarily witnessed by hearing the deafening roars of my father which mixed between thundering laughs to ground-breaking complaints. This sequence of roaring and complaining did not seem to stop, so much so that they pulled me out of the mild serenity that my study offers in order to see what all of the commotion was about. 

I walked into the lounge room and instantly wished that I had not. "Look!" screamed my father, "it's the millionth time they play this stupid sh*t!" I shook my head when he turned to face the television again, his rear end hanging off the edge of the sofa. He held the remote with both hands between his parted legs and had his head stretched out further than his body as though tht would assist him to hear the television a little better. 

My father likes to do this sort of thing whenever my sister and I watch anything on Australian television. He likes to mock the apparent 'stupidity' of what Australians hold dear to them in comparison to all the action and gore that comes on Lebanese news. "They should get the Japanese to help get rid of that whale!" he remarked, making my insides boil with rage. Yes, my father represents my other culture, the culture that has killed and eaten so many birds in Lebanon that spotting a wild bird or hearing one sing in the morning has become a rarity; a culture that demeans anybody that thinks or acts differently; a culture that I wish I was not a part of. My father, the other day, stood in the doorway eavesdropping on our watching of     and caught one of the young makes saying, "what's up?" repeatedly in a threatening manner. My father immediately took that as an invitation to mock what we choose to view, in turn mocking the culture we were born into. 

Cultural differentiation is a terrible thing when you are experiencing the clashing of two both within and around yourself. Outside of my home is freedom, the ability to think and do as one pleases, the ability to say as one pleases and exist as one pleases, and then inside my home is chaos between what I need and want and what my culture expects of me. To be frank, I could not give a rat's rear end for what my culture demands. I acknowledge it, I try to put up with its presence but I am not allowing myself to be enslaved by it. Though I am not letting it control me, it does get to me, and it makes my living in the Australian culture rather difficult especially when my parents try to further enforce that culture onto me. For years in my adolescence I made up excuses for the lack of participation. How was I to explain that I was being culturally restrained?

And that is not all in the past. My parents only allow me to be as free as I currently am due to revolting against their system my entire life. Even now I am not entirely free. I am not entirely free to the point where when animal activists on television try to make a difference by updating the nation on the progress of a young whale in potential danger, my family decides to mock it, thus mocking something I stand for. If only I had a singular culture. 

At times I feel like that beached whale. Beached on the shore of Lebanon, trying to get a push back into the freedom of Australian waters.

Sound Rage

source

I giggled to myself earlier, eavesdropping on the television whilst working on some university things. Yes, I placed myself prone to a risk wherein my already ruined reputation in front of my family would be ruined even more had I been caught giggling to myself in a menacing manner at early hours in the morning. 

She's lost it! they would think. Although I bet they probably already know that, but that is besides the point. The point is that there was something that initiated this wild little giggle, and that is what was said in an advertisement for tomorrow night's show about a segment titled 'Sound Rage', wherein it is alleged that a heap of Australians feel enraged by the constant repetition of certain sounds.

The reason behind my giggling is that if Australians are enraged by repeated sounds, how do they think Lebanese people feel? Having grown up in a strictly Lebanese household, I will gladly represent the entire population of Lebanese people alike in telling everyone how it feels to be surrounded by annoying noises and how I manage not to lose my sanity to the point where Duke Nukem enters my body and massacres my family. I will tell you all how my life has not turned into a first-person shooter game like Doom - but first, I will expose you to some of the annoying noises I face on a daily basis.

The telephone
When the telephone rings, we all run and hide. Chances are that on the other side of the line, my grandpa awaits to deteriorate our hearing abilities and repeatedly ask the same questions that he asked twenty minutes ago. I tolerate this because yes, he is old and though he is old he still is more intelligent than most old men I have come to meet.

Dinnertime
My father likes to make it clear to everyone, non-verbally, that his dinner is hot and that he is extremely hungry. Not only does the noise of blowing annoy me, but I have to deal with having 3.4% of his dinner crawling on my face and the smell burning up my nose. In fact I still feel that my left eye is drier than the right because of the episodal food-blowing that occurred seven hours ago.

Alright?
My father also likes to make it clear to everyone that he in some way or another cares about their existence. This is done by repeatedly asking, "alright?" Whatever the case, the question is always, "alright?" I walk out of the toilet and walk past him, "alright?" I wake up and go to have breakfast, "alright?" I walk past him with coffee, "alright?" I walk back past him without coffee, "alright?" It never ends.

Yawning through the removal of curses
Yes, my parents believe that if you chant some prayer that can only be passed on from boy to girl whilst stroking the victim of the 'evil eye', that each time you yawn parts of the curse is removed. Note that I said part - this means that my mother has to yawn in my face on an interval of every fifteen seconds, wide, breath-drawing yawns that suck the insomnia out of me. There are three other members in my family. Multiply these yawns by three and you have my life.

Computer generated images
If we are watching a really well edited movie with awesome computer generated images, my mother and father will sit there saying, "oh my gahd! Oh my gahhhhhd!" This does not end until after the movie and thirty minutes or less after that depending on how great its ending was.

There are plenty more instances of utter annoyance that I have not documented, but the point is that there are more elements of rage than just sound. People who feel victimised by the sounds of others should come spend a day with me. Or try to spend Mondays four years ago with me where my lactose intolerant sister, who did not identify her problem with milk until recently, used to sit in front of me in the car after a breakfast full of hearty goodness, and get repeated blows to your face with both sound and smell. Then try to convince me how little noises annoy you.

The Universality of America and its States

source

I have been working non stop all day on my artworks that are due in next week for a subject at uni. I have been working on these all over my house and my father's shop and finally I have landed in the warmth of my kitchen.

Eavesdropping on the television, naturally and inevitably seeing as it is always loud, I came across a television show that was on prior to the FIFA soccer match, Portugal versus Germany. It consisted of some Australian comedian interviewing rather patriotic and drunk Americans who apparently fit the stereotypes that he heard about them before being exposed to them. And the point that was brought up was quite interesting, and very accurate - upon asking these Americans where they were from, each one of them named a state within America - Boston, Chicago, New York, and so on. 

The comedian made a point - "do you expect everyone to know all of the states in America?" And the fact is that we do. Whenever somebody foreign, usually spotted with an accent when they walk into my father's shop when I am serving and usually brought around to ask me of my personal origins, asks me where I am from originally, I say Australia. Then I go on to explain how my parents are from Lebanon. And only if the person is Lebanese will they ask me, "from which area in Lebanon?" But I have never said anything other than Australia for my place of origin. Quite frankly I do not think that foreigners would know where Melbourne was. They might know Sydney, Tasmania and New Zealand but certainly not Melbourne.

It is very interesting. I know most of America's states without having traveled to either one of them. I know about their famous landmarks and of the tweaking of accents in each one and the stereotypical portrayals, whereas Australia has one stereotypical portrayal: bogans. I know more about them than about the states in my own country. It may have something to do partly with the fact that I am obsessed with everything American, and partly because America in its entirety is a universal place.

America is so universal that I have lost interest in anything Australian. Australian movies have become absolutely intolerant. Australian accents have become ridiculous. Australian culture has become shameful. America has such a profound effect on me that I am willing to leave behind half of my cultural roots in order to be consumed by this nation of greatness. It seems like the social norm to drink alcohol from red plastic cups at parties and to chant "U S A" at big stadium games.

And that strange American man in the show surely was right about America achieving "world domination". Well, it has at least dominated my world.

The Critical Unpacking and Rewriting of the Australian Anthem

source

Australians all let us rejoice,

For we are young and free;

We've golden soil and wealth for toil,

Our home is girt by sea;

Our land abounds in Nature's gifts

Of beauty rich and rare;

In history's page, let every stage

Advance Australia fair!

In joyful strains then let us sing,

"Advance Australia fair!" 

When gallant Cook from Albion sail'd,

To trace wide oceans o'er,

True British courage bore him on,

Till he landed on our shore.

Then here he raised Old England's flag,

The standard of the brave;

With all her faults we love her still,

"Brittannia rules the wave!"

In joyful strains then let us sing

"Advance Australia fair!" 

Beneath our radiant southern Cross,

We'll toil with hearts and hands;

To make this Commonwealth of ours

Renowned of all the lands;

For those who've come across the seas

We've boundless plains to share;

With courage let us all combine

To advance Australia fair.

In joyful strains then let us sing

"Advance Australia fair!" 

While other nations of the globe

Behold us from afar,

We'll rise to high renown and shine

Like our glorious southern star;

From England, Scotia, Erin's Isle,

Who come our lot to share,

Let all combine with heart and hand

To advance Australia fair!

In joyful strains then let us sing

"Advance Australia fair!" 

Shou'd foreign foe e'er sight our coast,

Or dare a foot to land,

We'll rouse to arms like sires of yore

To guard our native strand;

Brittannia then shall surely know,

Beyond wide ocean's roll,

Her sons in fair Australia's land

Still keep a British soul.

In joyful strains the let us sing

"Advance Australia fair!" 

In yesterday's post, I feel like I touched a little too briefly on the Australian anthem and its many wrongs and hypocritical statements and how it should be changed, so I thought that I would take the time today to unpack it critically, and to rewrite it into something more accurate to Australian culture.

'For we are young and free;'

I did not know that existing in Australia deems one immortal and liberated from the law. I did not know that the Aboriginal people were free to do what they want when the settlement occurred, and I certainly did not know that young Aboriginals were not kidnapped, forced to assimilation and were later known as the 'stolen generation'. 

Our home is girt by sea;

I am one of the lucky people in my family to live well near the coastline, wherein all I ahve to do is drive a maximum of ten minutes and I have full exposure to the wonderful Williamstown Beach. Another five minutes, and I have Saint Kilda Beach. Seven minutes closer is Altona Beach, and thirty minutes further is Brighton Beach - ultimately, I have a lot of beaches closeby. However, the majority of the population begs to differ, so no, 'our' home is not necessarily girt by sea. And it is not 'our' home to begin with. If you argue that it is, then is it okay for me to barge into your luxurious double-storey home and claim it as mine because it is on a part of soil that has no sign, and assimilate you to my Lebanese ways? No? Why not? That is what happened to the Aboriginals, is it not?

When gallant Cook from Albion sail'd

How was Captain Cook in any way 'gallant' if he had feared the Aboriginal people? Was his claiming of the entire east coast of New Holland as his own despite the lack of permission of the original inhabitants 'gallant' too? I think a more accurate word choice is 'thieving'.

True British courage bore him on,

Till he landed on our shore.

What is it, exactly, that defines 'true' British courage? Is it the fact that the Queen would have his head if he dared not claim this new land in her name? And who is 'our' referring to in here? Did, at the time, Aboriginal people see him as a courageous British man who landed on their shore? And if 'we' claim ourselves to be 'Australian', then how come we still associate ourselves with Britain? Are we not 'gallant' enough to liberate ourself from Miss Elizabeth's rule?

The standard of the brave;

With all her faults we love her still,

"Brittannia rules the wave!"

So the 'standard' of being 'brave' is to invade another territory and claim it as your own despite the current inhabitants clearly inhabiting it? Am I 'brave', then, if I walk into K-mart with a flag that I design and place the flag in the middle of the store and shoot all those who attempt to escort me now because I own that part of land? Would that be a sufficient amount of standard for my darling the Queen? And with 'all her faults' they still do not acknowledge the fault of stealing land, because that happened. It only comes naturally that the buffoon who wrote this anthem then includes '"Brittannia

rules the wave!"'; yes, let the 'gallant' Brittannia rule the wave and take not into account its original rulers.

We'll toil with hearts and hands;

I can guarantee that the entire generation of Australians under the age of twenty are living on Centrelink pay with their parents and "can't be f*cked" getting out of bed in order to 'toil with [their] hearts and hands'. In fact, the only thing they will use their hands for is to acquire and prepare the use of illicit substances and alcohol and rolled up cylinders of tobacco.*

Renowned of all the lands;

Yes I suppose we are spoken about by many people, and not for the right reasons either. For one, Americans think that we eat Vegemite by the jar-full, they think that we ride Emus and Kangaroos to school and that we treat Aboriginal people in a similar way to the treatment of African-American people back in the times of segregation and the Apartheid. Well, they certainly are right about the last claim. We should not be proud of that.

For those who've come across the seas

We've boundless plains to share;

This is probably the most inaccurate statement in the entire anthem. I highly doubt that our Prime Minister Tony Abbott has any plains to share. In fact, I bet that as a toddler he did not share his toys with his playmates. He probably headbutted them into the sandpit and made sure they stayed there until their parents came to pick them up. We do not share, and we do not accept any visitors unless they can benefit our economy. Other than that, off to another island they go.

With courage let us all combine

To advance Australia fair.

Of course, those of us who seek out the ways of social justice truly need courage in case an Australian equivalent of Putin makes sure that nobody protests against the ways of this 'advanced' country - sure, we have advanced past the recognition of our massacring past.

While other nations of the globe

Behold us from afar,

We'll rise to high renown and shine

Like our glorious southern star;

The Southern Star technically belongs to the milky way. Apart from falsely claimed land, I do not think 'we' really own anything here, unless we are speaking of shame, in which case we own a lot of that. Or a Southern Cross tattoo. A European man named João Faras was able to depict the Southern Cross properly and guess what? He is not Australian. Nor British. Nor a convict. And sure nations 'behold us from afar', who wants to associate themselves with a bunch of bogans who think ill of the original land owners of the place they call home?

From England, Scotia, Erin's Isle,

Who come our lot to share,

Oh, yes, by all means, I am sure that in this day and age there are a lot of Australians willing to share 'our lot' of land. Exactly how much land is theirs to begin with?

Let all combine with heart and hand

Yes, I am sure Tony Abbott wants to hold your hand and listen to your third-world problems after you have gotten off the boat, which you gave the last of your life's earnings to be able to sale on. He has prepared you some tea, too, following the customary British tradition.

Shou'd foreign foe e'er sight our coast,

Or dare a foot to land,

We'll rouse to arms like sires of yore

To guard our native strand;

Brittannia then shall surely know,

Beyond wide ocean's roll,

Her sons in fair Australia's land

Still keep a British soul.

So then, I think it fair to agree that Tony Abbot has an ice-cold British soul. Well done, Abbott. Well, it makes sense that he acts in this way since he was born in the United Kingdom. Hey, Australians! You also do not own your own prime minister!

So, without any further ado, here is my revised edition of the Australian anthem:

Australians, all, let us unite

and acknowledge the land's original owners.

We know that Cook was the Queen's slave,

so dare he misbehave?

He claimed the land and nature's gifts,
killed most of the inhabitants too,

let history's page depict this age
of massacres, thievings and kills!

In shameful whispers, let us confess
"Australia is unfair!"

When thieving Cook from God knows where
came to Australia in his great big ship,

he landed on the shore and waved his flag,
and claimed it all as his.

he scared Aboriginals and scared the animals,
he considered them all part of the fauna,

and with the Queen in mind, he ensured mankind
trodded over some more inferiors!

In shameful whispers, let us confess
"Australia is unfair!" 

We don't even own the Southern Cross,
but we won't come to terms with that!

In fact the only thing we only really own
is Vegemite, thanks to Cyril Percy Callister!

For those who've come across the seas

Tony Abbott waits with his navy!

With weapons and deportation notices at the ready,
he ensures you have a quick stay!

In shameful whispers, let us confess
"Australia is unfair!"

While other nations of the globe

shake their heads at us from afar,

We'll drift in our Commodore utes, flip the bird,
with an arm that's tattooed with the southern star;

From England, Scotia, Erin's Isle,

we came as chained convicts!

We never respected the Aborigines
and still treat them like sh*t!

In shameful whispers, let us confess
"Australia is unfair!"

Shou'd foreign foe e'er sight our coast,

Or dare a foot to land,

We'll rouse Tony Abbott from his parliament perch

To guard our native strand;

All the lands shall surely know,

despite our claims that we accept diversity,

Her sons in "fair" Australia's land

are racist Aussie sheilas and blokes!

In shameful whispers, let us confess
"Australia is unfair!"

*note: this does not apply to all young Australians - this is an exaggerated and satirical take on the Australian anthem, please do not ask for me to be shunned from this gallantly claimed island.