Notes from the edge

Things I like: Bayly and Moore

2011-12-12T23:08:00.000+13:00

Bayly & Moore make me want to be a better promo director....like, infinity much. Even if they mostly do weddings. Their corporate stuff is great too. So's their photography.

The ultimate red tiki-tour

2011-11-26T21:28:00.027+13:00

For your possible reading pleasure a quick note from various Labour gatherings this evening...

11.24pm Goff does a stand-up interview outside the war memorial door...applause breaks out in ragged patches. And the departure - security following in a matched sedan. The circus is getting ready to leave town and this time so am I.

11.08pm political reporter from one of the networks arrives, lprent is agitating to leave, but hooked into more chat about running thestandard.org.nz with more party insiders.

11.03pm lprent is discussing how to get better mobilisation of voters with a party insider...David Cunliffe has left the building, and now so have I. The crush eventually forced the issue. More chat about mobilisation on the veranda. Now I can see the giant sports reporting truck and lights in the carpark...

11.00pm various pundits agree it's not a great result, but more people are still trickling in from outside anyhow and wine in plastic cups awaits. I've been noticing tv1's female camera operator - go girl. Camera department chicks are not as common as you might imagine.

10.59pm David Cunliffe in the supporter scrum..

10.56pm - the circus is starting to leave town - camera operators cluster but some of the lights are off. Someone shouts out that Christchurch Central is a tie...

10.54pm - three cheers....more drums...

10.52pm Phil - Bloodied but holding true to our values...hoping for a future where we keep our assets. Where National have no mandate for change, such as to sell assets, we will fight and fight.

10.49pm Phil congratulates new MPs coming through - great to see new blood. Sadness for MPs who lost their seats.

10.48pm Michael's congratulations to Phil, to the electorate support and the gutsy-est campaign Labour campaign ever.

10.46pm - media scrambling - an orgy of hugs and Goff's finally on the stage...

10.43pm - lights, camera - Phil Goff in the house...Michael Wood on stage and drums to welcome him in.

10.40pm - David Shearer is doing the rounds, showing the team colours...People are trickling in from the surrounding electorates.

10.32pm Standing room only at Mt Roskill...at least one organiser commented that they didn't expect so much media in the room - even China TV is here, plus live cameras from the networks and all the rest.

10.15pm - off to Mt Roskill and the media scrum...

10.08pm - resignation over John Banks taking Epsom for Act. Someone comments that the margin between National and Act makes it a massive loss for Act, in relative terms of course.

10.05pm The crowd is thinning slightly - probably people decamping to Mt Roskill. Those left are watching a triumphal Russell Norman on the projector - a third party gets over 10% for the first time in New Zealand's history.

9.59pm cheer for Phil Twyford pulling well ahead in Te Atatu.

9.57pm cheer as Paula Bennett falls behind Carmel Sepuloni in Waitakere.

9.55pm Mt Albert - bunting styles and red balloons, a New Zealand flag on the wall and tv3 on the main projector. The crowd is classic 70s liberals, the core of Helen's old electorate still in evidence and the debate is sharp. The pundit position on Auckland Central now saying Nikki will take it with a current margin of 600 and 75% of votes in.

9.29pm Auckland Central - small section of the room have roused to the idea that NZ first could be going in. "Let John Key's nightmare begin" is the rallying cry.

9.26pm First stop - Auckland Central, the home seat of Jacinta Arden...the mood is chill, hopeful. Well-heeled hipster liberals plus a slightly older set, red wine drinkers and a wood fire on Ponsonby Road. Certain pundits are predicting a win to Labour for Central given Jacinta and Nikki are neck and neck. There is close attention to the tv1 polls and the Elections website - live updates. A cheer for David Shearer pushing ahead in Mt Albert.

Things I like: Chronic Bitchface and smart talkin

2011-11-22T23:37:00.002+13:00

'Things I like' is my proposed new series of posts on - yes! - things I like. Gratifyingly, there are more of them than I initially anticipated, even excluding Vanity Fair which has already had one hell of a plug on this blog (ditto iPads).

Tonight I'm going to shout out to pol sci lecturer Therese Arseneau who did a creditable commentary on last night's leaders debate (Campbell Live, TV3), giving a highly informed opinion on the content presented and contextualising the audience feedback 'worm' results through sharing her own extensive knowledge of the New Zealand political landscape in a concise and accessible way. I know it shouldn't matter but when a woman says brainy stuff on telly it makes me feel like someone is flying the flag for all of us. And it seems to happen surprisingly seldom. Arseneau's commentary contrasts sharply with the lacklustre efforts of Clare Robinson on the panel for the first leaders's debate on TVNZ. She seemed out of her depth and a little defensive with it, which had the unfortunately effect of making me feel like she was a token choice. As in - "we can't find an informed woman to balance out the leaders' debate panel but that's ok - woman don't care about this stuff anyway and they all like John Key, so anyone will do". I hope to god I'm wrong, and I hasten to add, I doubt I could do better. But I also hope that if Ms Robinson is back on the panel later this week, she takes a deep breath, collects her thoughts and does us all proud.

I also have to take a moment to call attention to the colour-coding of each of the major party debates and the arrangement of the studio. Did anyone else find the blue background behind Guyon Espiner a bit too right for comfort? TV3 by contrast did well on being non-partisan, with John Campbell sporting a handsome lilac tie and a pale greenish backdrop. I also really liked the fact that the leaders were facing each other on TV3 rather than facing the facilitator as at TVNZ, and that they got longer to talk about a particular issue. This meant we got presented with less topics, but meant the responses had greater depth as the leaders were able to properly formulate their points, largely without being interrupted or redirected. It was refreshing how polite JC was as well. Quite old school. Love it.

And on a lighter and completely unrelated note - after a childhood and adolescence plagued by strange men coming up to me and shouting "smile - it can't be that bad" in airports and places of worship etc, I finally found this:

Chronic Bitchface

I somehow feel less alone....

Feeling the love

2011-11-21T22:44:00.000+13:00

Vanity got the better of me once again (see my last post title) but only literally this time. I was checking my blog stats to see if any readers had swung my way and was surprised to see referrals from several political blogs I used to frequent back around the time of the last New Zealand general election in 2008.

So I'd like to give a special little shout-out to the hand-mirror, jillingoff and the hive for forwarding a handful of readers on to me. I'm particularly cheering the hand-mirror for championing the writing of women online and not forgetting the now re-named 'Greylynnsinglesclub' (ie this blog) although I haven't written a damn thing for or against the prime minister this entire election campaign. It's also the only one of the three regularly being updated.

I fondly remember my first referral (from the now defunct kiwiblogblog) and how happy I was to be included in the great unwashed carnival that is the internet. I'm reliving the joy tonight...

Thank you Vanity

2011-11-20T12:42:00.001+13:00

It's so seldom that I have the brain-space to fuel an inclination to write these days. The reason I'm doing so today is all thanks to Vanity Fair via my iPad. Which is not to make this rarest of posts into some kind of product endorsement, but is a simple statement of truth. The iPad makes it easier to get stuff, and I just (finally) updated to iOS5 which has gifted or cursed me with the native app Newsstand, featuring none other than Vanity Fair. So I can get the air-freight version at less than half price via the app-store and several as-yet unread back-issues. (I was hoping for FREE but frankly if content is of value then giving value in return is only logical. No one hopes that's true more than an independent documentary producer. Trust me.)

The general flavour of Vanity Fair is the same on the screen as it is on the page, and it's really this which has inspired me to put finger to key. The political gossip and alcohol-soaked gonzo celebrity stories give the magazine its name but the quality of the writing makes it impossible to ignore how brainy and well-researched the finished products generally are. I feel smarter after reading. Those exquisitely balanced sentences and paragraphs also smack of a quantity and quality of sub-editing seldom seen anywhere any more and certainly not in New Zealand's crumbly MSM. Some paucity of market-size or imagination, but I don't have the time to research which.

So - apropros of my second sentence above - good writing makes me remember the power of prose and the importance of having a good hard think about things and committing that to paper or screen whenever possible. It's broadly what got me started here and probably what will keep me going....

Toes in the water

2011-08-07T18:56:00.000+12:00

There have been two crap things about coming back into this blog since the great hiatus began three years ago.

The first is realising that the situation which drove me to stop writing is still extant; namely, making a feature documentary while working full-time, and the second is that I was the person who wrote all you see below. Yee. It all feels a bit dorky. But in the interests of trying to make some kind of singular narrative of my thoughts and their incarnation on screen I'll stay camped on the same internet real-estate and let nature take its course.

This is the third significant incarnation of the blogging thread I began in 2007. The first moment was about dating while living with a bunch of single people in Grey Lynn, the second was about living in a relationship and thinking about politics and gender. This third one is a tabula rasa right now, but I anticipate that it will end up being about filmmaking, gender and representation. Bear with me, any readers that fortune has thrown this way - and we shall see.

Babies, I'm back!

2011-07-30T23:57:00.000+12:00

Yo. I'm back. I think.

Stay posted and I'll try to as well....

Sporadic and cheaty

2009-07-04T18:52:00.004+12:00

Well, it's only been a million years since my last post, and it's thanks to the Handmirror that it's happening at all. Here, for the record, are my Political Spectrum Quiz Results:

My Political Views
I am a left moderate social libertarian
Left: 7.38, Libertarian: 3.44

Political Spectrum Quiz

I've used the comparison tool on the site and discovered that I'm more left and more socially liberal than most people, apparently, and specifically other people in my demographic, at least in New Zealand, women of similar age and ethnicity in America, women like my mum and women of a similar ethnicity who are 10 years younger than me. Julie is lefter than me but I'm apparently more socially permissive (oo-er)....

Drinking Liberally - again

2009-04-27T23:05:00.002+12:00

It's getting to be that time again. Drinking Liberally Auckland kicked off to a grand start this year with an address from Rod Oram last month - after a round of the solid (but flexible) planning that brought you such luminaries as David Slack and Laila Harre last year. So - Wednesday this week, trip along to London Bar at 7pm to hear Len Brown on the supercity. I'll be the stressed one with the camera.....

I like to iPhone it in

2009-02-22T13:42:00.001+13:00

This is my first iPhone post. Not quite a twitter moment but a small step for womankind (well me) nevertheless. Thanks to my lovely family & partner for funding the best gift toy ever.

The spambots have arrived

2009-02-11T21:50:00.002+13:00

Yo - people - anyone who's out there,... yeah - I'm back, back from PNG, armed with a smart phone and pressured to write by smart women who are more politically active than I. But mostly I'm just back because the blog is getting spammed and that simply won't do.

What's new in Lyn-land? God knows. Nothing, everything, I don't know. But what I do know is that it's time to hoe my own little row once more (and no I don't mean that in a sexy way), and I believe I may have some time available - who needs sleep?

Is it just me....

2008-08-28T13:42:00.005+12:00

Dammit - I reckon this election is shaping up to be one of the most dirrrty in ages. This is unsubstantiated and, since I've been out of the political loop for the last wee while, certainly contestable, but consider a cursory glance at the evidence:

1) Secret recordings at a National Party Cocktail party by person or persons unknown from the left. Being on the sqeamish side I'm hoping it was done right before the person concerned exited the country for an extended OE.

2) The recording and subsequent reporting of a casual suggestion from the floor at the Labour Party congress earlier this year. Instant scandal. Note the way this, coupled with the first in a string of donation scandals linked to Owen Glenn, resulted in the ill-advised offer of party president Mike Williams to resign.

3) The debacle that calls itself Winston Peters coupled with Owen Glenn's continuing embroilment in matters to do with political funding. Political philanthropy has hit the mat and looks like it won't be getting up in a hurry.

4) The revelation the National uses the odious Crosby-Textor. Nasty - just nasty. Democracy in New Zealand takes a round-house right in the eye.

5) In keeping with the CT approach, National's annoucement that it will put breast cancer treatment Herceptin on the list at Pharmac - a clear tug at our sympathies towards breasts and the women attached to them and devoid of a well-developed health policy context. Remember - a vote for National is a vote for your mum's boobs but exactly what else is still debatable.

6) Robinsod, Whaleoil (whaleoil.co.nz) - no further comment required.

7) National's apparent attempts to control editorial content at a number of APN newspapers after the Bay Report quoted John Key saying he "would love to see wages drop".

8) The Standard's continuing campaign against John Key. Solid, oh so solid and featuring such notable moments (in addition to the CT and Bay Report threads) as the "Clocks" copyright fiasco, and the observation that Bill English was the one who dobbed in Key for visiting his "batch" in Hawaii. Fran O'Sullivan's sudden arrival on the comments threads on at least two separate occasions had reasonable comedy value also.

I'm sure there's more - feel free to weigh in....

Busy...

2008-08-11T00:32:00.003+12:00

I now have so much on, I can't decide if it's more stressful to be in continual motion or to take some time out knowing that I'm inevitably falling behind.

The projects and missed deadlines are piling up. But last night, instead of sleeping or exercising or doing laundry, or actually addressing some of the things I have to do, I went out to my flatmate's birthday karaoke, got drunker than I have in years (thanks Lynn, for the killer third 600ml of sake) and wound up with a hangover for most of today. This only served to exacerbate menstrual symptoms measuring an astounding 7.2 on my personal richter scale.

Suxville. Really.

Some of you have managed to provide much appreciated responses to my insomnia (solved for the most part by sleeping separately from the BF), so if any of you have any tips for keeping on top of myriad projects and a job while holding onto one's sanity and personal relationships, now is the time to divulge.

And yeah - avoiding blind-drunk karaoke is already on the list.

Karmic justice

2008-07-24T10:25:00.004+12:00

I was flicking through the blogosphere this morning instead of attending to the stated reason for my absence from work (going to the bank), and I decided to take a quiz "which operating system are you". This was the result:

"You are Windows 98. You're a bit flaky, but well-liked. You don't have a great memory, but everyone seems to know you. A great person to hang out with and play some games."

Fuck me. Serves me right. A link to the original quiz:

BBspot "which operating system are you" quiz

What dreams may come?

2008-07-19T04:52:00.007+12:00

Why, why is it that every time I get involved with someone I end up neglecting my blog?

In the bad old days when greylynnsinglesclub was a record of the sordid activity that calls itself dating, it made sense to stop blogging when I was in a relationship because I had no desire to share the private and personal details of a genuinely intimate thing with random readers. These days the blog is a much broader rant about gender politics with snippets of what's happening leading up to the election, and there's a lot to say, a lot I don't mind saying, and yet I seem not to be.

Part of the problem is time. However I have an idea that there are some alternative explanations which bear some scrutiny.

I am the woman that sleep forgot. I'm a stupidly light sleeper and at the moment, while I become accustomed to doing this next to a large, wriggling, occasional snore-fest, everything is just slightly fally-aparty. As I type, my boyfriend (ancient but decidedly new to me) is currently comatose, having woken up, programmed his ass off for an hour, cured his own insomnia and returned to the land of nod. I, on the other hand, gave up the idea of dormancy about an hour ago when he switched on the light, having already been awake for a good 60+ minutes. I feel churlish in writing this - this is the same boyfriend who's exhausted because he graciously spent the last three nights on the sofa (his sofa) so I could get a reasonable sleep (THREE NIGHTS dear reader). But tomorrow - filled with a selection of work - is already here, and I know the rest of it is going to be crappy.

Unsurprisingly under the circumstances, weeknights typically see me arrive home after nine-plus hours of paid work in a zombified state, stare stupidly at the TV for a while, worry about all the other work that isn't getting done, lament my dropping blog stats, eat and then fall into a fitful slumber, only to repeat the cycle the next day. I hardly have the brain to read a blog let alone write one. Granted- it's not always quite this bad - but honestly! I've tried going back to my place alone, and this is definitely the sensible option, one I should make more use of, but where's the fun in that? His place means wriggling, snoring, traffic noise, and street lights, but is free of flatmates, close to work and has a fantastic shower. Plus it has him.

Light sleepers of the blogosphere - lend me your thoughts. What work-arounds to my conundrum have you discovered?

In other news, my mother had a very successful surgery and is well into the recovery phase. Just prior to going under the knife she bought herself a three-litre Skyline which is possibly more likely to shorten her life than the cancer she had removed.

And I'm now blogging occasionally at aucklandista.com after a kind invitation from Joanna. Pop over and have a look should you so desire.

Slack - I'll say!!!!

2008-07-07T18:28:00.004+12:00

After much umming and a very long upload, you should now be able to watch, uninterrupted, the lovely David Slack talking to Drinking Liberally Auckland at London Bar last week.

Click here and let me know via email if you experience any technical difficulties.

What's a girl to do?

2008-07-06T21:54:00.007+12:00

God forgive me, it's been at least a week since my last post. And my presence in the blogosphere has been superceded by the watching of movies with my boyfriend and the attending of Drinking Liberally at the London Bar. And working - that thing I do for money, and the confronting news that a film I'm still attached to has been awarded an undisclosed but quite substantial sum in American dollars, while a writing project I'm working on received an offer it may or may not refuse from a highly respected publication. Score!!! Tomorrow morning sometime I hope to get a video of David Slack's turn at Drinking Liberally up on google video, and if I do you shall be the second to know about it, after the rest of the lovely organising committee.

In other news, that travesty of the democratic process that is National Party campaign strategy continues to give me a creepy feeling, and my mother is having surgery on Tuesday.

More in a bit....

Drinking Liberally arrives in Auckland!

2008-06-25T08:05:00.004+12:00

Drinking Liberally is having its first Auckland event next Wednesday evening (July 2nd) at 7.30 at London Bar, just off Queen St. The speaker is well known blogger/author/radio commentator/all-round-nice-guy David Slack, who will address the topic of ‘New Zealand the way you want it???’

DL events are based around a talk and discussion session and pre-supposes a left-leaning, green or progressive audience but I would imagine anyone who is sympathetic to or tolerant of these positions would also be welcome. The Auckland version is planned to recur on the fourth Wednesday of every month.

In case you missed it, New Zealand’s first Drinking Liberally events took place in Wellington with Green MP Nandor Tanczos followed up by Minister of Finance Dr Michael Cullen. Both events were liberally attended and from photos on the facebook page I'd say a good time was had by all. See the video of Michael Cullen's talk (posted at the standard) here.

I shall be heading along on Wednesday, and encourage any lefty progressive or open-minded person who likes politics, booze and drunken arguments to do likewise and see what happens.

Absence does not make the heart grow fonder

2008-06-22T01:14:00.009+12:00

Well - I had good intentions to write a post on the abortion debate and then dithered over putting it up (but see below). The Handmirror has been busily inspecting this issue from every angle, and their blogger Julie also wrote a guest-post on the subject for The Standard which has received a remarkable number of hits. Thanks to stiff moderation the comments have been of a surprisingly high level and make for some interesting reading. It's always heartening to read progressive comments from (probably) men on the subject.

Abortion is an issue which will remain contentious and it's something that everyone who is sexually active and fertile should consider. For argument's sake I've included my own thinking on the matter below. This is not intended as an analysis of the current political situation, and certainly not as a response to the large quantity of quality writing at In a Strange Land, Ex-expat or The Handmirror, but as an example of the fact that no matter how much the issue is legislated, people are going to think, feel and act in relation to it as individuals. This is why I'm personally pro-choice, even though the idea of having an abortion myself makes me feel a bit funny.

In the meantime the rest of the blogosphere has also chugged merrily onward - Robinsod "possibly the most reviled leftwing blog commenter in New Zealand" has started up his own blog - as if contributing to Newzblog and commenting on the standard weren't enough. Robinsod's writing is one of my guilty pleasures. It's often vile but, in my view, always very smart. The new blog includes theory-heavy material that couldn't get an airing in any other forum and also the writing talents of the standard commenter Billy who is thus now able to get his own back and moderate any standardistas who venture a remark.

The Hairy Armpit, now possibly known as guttergangbang.blogspot.com, has birthed itself sometime in the last few weeks and what an amazing burst of NSFW it is. I hear that it's been taken down twice. The gender politics are hard to pin down but the sentiment seems unforced. Gak. I also notice that the Sprout has made a re-appearance round the traps - here's hoping that he (she?) starts actually blogging again.

Deborah over at In a Strange Land has rejoiced in the variety of online friendships and political contact that blogging has afforded her. I can only echo that sentiment, and add that offline I've had the pleasure of meeting six other bloggers in recent times and am always amused by the divergence between the virtual and the real, as well as how goddamn small this country is. But I'm very glad to have made their acquaintance, one and all. What a welcome return to the booze fueled arguments, those halcyon days of undergraduate mayhem - if only metaphorically.

And now - as promised - the abortion issue - a personal response:

I’ve never been particularly interested in getting into a debate on abortion. It’s something that’s philosophically almost impossible to take a defensible position on, gets used as a political football and draws investiture from groups of people I’d rather avoid. However there’s not really any getting away from the fact that abortion and its provision or lack thereof has a profound pragmatic effect both socially and for individual people. And one can’t really be a thinking or sexually active adult without having reason to consider what a personal encounter with abortion might be like.

My own position on this most contentious of issues is all about my identity as a woman and a feminist. In talking about it I’m aware that I may draw irate responses from people who think it’s morally, ethically, or philosophically untenable. And maybe it is. But it’s my position. Like many other women I’ve navigated the multifarious realities and narratives associated with abortion and have come to my own views. Like it or not, this process of making sense is happening all over the place all the time in a way that defies control by any central meta-narrative or moral paradigm. However flawed my thinking, at the end of the day the fact that I’m doing it is illustrative of the impossibility of ultimately controlling the way a woman – any woman - thinks and correspondingly chooses to act. We must each make our own way through the forest. And this is an important thing to remember.

In advance of forming any position on abortion, and without having experienced an unwanted pregnancy, I’m already pre-wired to resist the idea of decision-making in regard to my body by outside agencies. The idea that another person might decide that that most private and inviolate of body-parts, my uterus, is something I am not allowed control over is unacceptable. Yes – this means I reserve the right to interfere with my reproductive organs and to decide if they will be interfered with by an outside agency. I do that anyway through use of contraception, agreeing to pelvic exams, smears and ultra-sounds, by selecting specific sexual partners and by moderating my sexual habits.

In making this statement about bodily dominon I concede that I’m setting aside the rights of any blastocyst, embryo and foetus that would possibly become a child if any potential pregnancy of mine was left to continue uninterrupted. A lot of philosophy about what’s right to do under the circumstance of an unwanted pregnancy surrounds the rights of the “unborn child” vs the rights of the mother. I’m no philosopher, but something that I bear in mind when considering these rights is that many pregnancies terminate themselves. Not every conception becomes a baby. This cuts across the argument that we should consider anything in utero to be essentially the same as a child because nature certainly doesn’t. I also note that if the mother’s body is taken out of the equation the blastocyst/embryo/foetus is not a viable human being. A woman can’t offer it to someone else to raise, and thus, it’s none of their business what she does with it.

Historically, the criminalisation of drinking, prostitution or drug-taking has never stopped them happening, it has merely driven them underground. Likewise, although abortion has been illegal for a very long time, this indicates its prevalence rather more than the reverse. Prior to the 1977 Contraception, Sterilisation and Abortion Act, it was a criminal offence to have an abortion or cause a pregnancy to end (this was only partially mitigated by the '77 law change). The fact that the procedure was a crime didn’t stop pregnant women running the risk of prosecution and death and it didn’t stop the people who helped them abort from performing abortions. This particular option has been with us for a really long time. Women have used coat-hangers, gin, knitting needles and various personal injuries to effect it, and consequently many have died under dreadful circumstances. These women took the risk because they considered the social and pragmatic realities of having a child would be worse than the possibility of injury and death. It seems a no brainer that adequate support for women to raise children under difficult circumstances is going to have a greater effect on abortion rates than any prohibition, but the most vociferous opponents of the procedure are also usually the ones who want to reduce benefits and social welfare.

In my cruder and more sustainably informed moments I sometimes wonder what we would do if the 18,000 foetuses terminated annually in New Zealand were born here (and god knows how many extras in other places). Humanity is already the greatest pestilence this planet has ever seen. From a population perspective, abortion is acting as one of several checks, however small, on our utterly unbridled expansion.

And, when looking at row upon row of neatly packed meat in the supermarket I’m easily able to question the argument that we should avoid the termination of a pregnancy in order to avoid causing pain to an embryo or foetus. Fully-grown and sentient animals are killed as a matter of course under the most stressful and aware circumstances. For a herbivore, the smell of blood can only mean one thing – extreme danger and the presence of a predator. I’m not convinced that most pro-lifers are vegan. I’m not myself. But then, I’m not sure that the death of a sentient being in an industrial complex is more acceptable than the death of a being without memory or fear.

Before you dismiss me as a heartless cow-eater (which I am) – I tell you now that I’d be extremely reluctant to undergo an abortion myself. Dodgy ovaries and a long history of singledom mean I’m most likely to take my chances with a pregnancy and hope for the best, whether or not the circumstances are ideal. That said, if I was carrying a foetus with a terminal condition like triploidy, for example, I’m not sure I’d still take the pregnancy to term. But I can’t say for sure because (thank fucking god) I haven’t ever had to make that choice.

I can’t believe that it’s my place to say what any other woman should do if faced with an unwanted pregnancy. This is not a choice that can or really should be made for a woman by an outside party since they don’t have to bear either the baby or the consequences of having it. No one does to the same extent as the woman involved. To make abortion a philosophical or party-political issue at the expense of lived experience is farcical and unsupportable. And a grand narrative can never make one single decision the right one for all circumstances. As ex-expat pointed out recently – once an unwanted pregnancy arrives, there’s no good option. A medico-legal complex that makes it possible for any known options to be expended to get the best outcome for the people concerned is the only one that I find reasonable – because no matter whether abortion is legal, it’s going to be considered as an option anyway.

Excuse me while I lose my mind

2008-06-11T19:05:00.003+12:00

There was a time when I would happily blog about all kinds of dating-related issues. You can read all about it by clicking on the "dating" category link (side-bar to the right). But now, despite the fact that dating inherently ends up being gender political, I've decided it's best left to one side. There are too many other issues that are deserving of our attention and care, particularly this year. That said - if you were wondering why I haven't been blogging with as much frequency as usual, it has something to do with the fact that I'm now dating someone. Apparently. I may or may not divulge more. In the meantime, wait up for my take on the abortion debate currently raging over the blogosphere and the MSM.

Hillary has yet to concede

2008-06-04T22:27:00.004+12:00

Barack Obama is the democrats' choice to run against McCain in the American election, but as yet Hillary Rodham Clinton has yet to concede. Some debate in the States continues around whether the sexism of the media coverage of Clinton's campaign has significantly impacted her chances of selection, but the discussion is fairly anodyne (except in the blogosphere), with most MSM commentators pointing towards bad advice, her failed rhetoric of being an old hand in politics, and the times she was caught out, particularly in relation to her claims about being under sniper-fire during a visit to Bosnia.

I remain of the opinion that the very fact of Clinton running has probably caused many people in a bunch of places to change their thinking on who can participate in national politics and in what capacity. However I was sent this link to a feminist law professor blog in the States that points out that Clinton has become a lightening rod for a sustained round of misogyny, and speculates that this will now find targets in other women in the political system like Michelle Obama, Barack's wife.

Do I think this is a possible outcome? Hell yes. Do I think that Clinton shouldn't have run or that she's made the situation somehow worse? Hell no. Do I think we need to look at the issues of sexism (and racism) that raised their heads in this campaign? Abso-bloody-lutely. If I had a vote, I wouldn't give it to Clinton, but she put her head over the parapet for this and that's something we should all salute.

Flipping it around

2008-05-31T13:06:00.013+12:00

There has been much discussion and debate about the "Lisa" ALAC ad in a variety of blogs and other fora. Sexism in the MSM continues pretty much unabated, but something which addresses rape in the way this ad does takes it beyond the usual run of boring misogynist tropes usually used for marketing. Anna McM at the hand-mirror has bravely shared her story of the night something "Lisa"-like happened to her and it's important reading for anyone with an ambivalence about what the ad is trying to say. Victim-blaming in relation to rape is pervasive - and sadly, judging from Anna's story and the comments thread at Charlotte's Crazy, it would appear that a group of people very likely to do this are the victims themselves, because this is what they imagine everyone else is doing anyway, and, looking at the content of the Lisa ad, they are perfectly justified in doing so. How brave you have to be to run the gauntlet of public opinion in claiming you've been sexually assaulted and in confronting the person responsible. It's a very rare woman who does, an even rarer one who would be 100% supported in doing so and a still rarer one who ever gets justice through the legal system.

In a striking example of administrative incompetence, Julie and Joanna's complaints to the ASA about the "Lisa" ad were dismissed even before they arrived, on the grounds that they made the same point as an earlier submission. Both posts about this situation fully illustrate that the earlier complaint was made on a different basis, which makes the ASA look truly incompetent. Anyone interested in making an additional formal submission about the ad can find a full list of posts on this issue at the handmirror which has tips and Julie's new letter of complaint which could be used as a jumping-off point.

As per suggestions made in the comments threads at the handmirror and Charlotte's Crazy (links above) it's quite illustrative to address the issue of drinking in sexual assault from a different perspective. Imagine that, like the other two ads in the ALAC series, the "Lisa" ad looks at the implications of drunkenness in relation to MALE behaviour. Men are usually the ones who perform sexual assault whether on women or on each other. An American study (I couldn't find relevant NZ studies but if you know of any please let me know) has shown that alcohol is involved in sexual assaults at least one half of the time, and that these crimes usually occur between people who don't know each other well, but who have met in a bar or similar. The most common scenario is not that of a predatory, sober, male dragging a drunk woman off into an alley as in the "Lisa" ad, but a drunk man subjecting a drunk woman to unwanted intercourse.

If I was writing an ad that actually addressed this issue head-on, I'd start with a pub situation - a group of guys getting shit-faced, a few misogynist comments bandied about in relation to the women in the bar, a focus on one guy who drunkenly hits on several different women and groups of women and gets laughed at or repelled, some piss-taking by his mates over his lack of success in scoring, and his growing aggression. A group of woman come over to the table where his mates are and start talking. Our main character is pushed into a conversation with a shy woman. Suddenly we're outside in a dark street and our character and the woman get into a taxi together as our character's mates make approving hooting noises. Inside the taxi the woman smiles uncertainly and drunkenly at our character. Suddenly we're inside a bedroom and the light is flickering - the woman is partially undressed on the bed, coughing, crying and pushing at our character, saying "please, just get off me, get off me", and our character, on top of her, is confusedly going "what?". Final shot - the ALAC banner - "It's not the drinking - it's how we're drinking".

I can't imagine a broadcaster who would screen this even though it's not even a worst-case scenario and all of the most horrible bits have been missed out. But it attempts to place responsibility for rape squarely on the shoulders of the perpetrator and address the role that binge drinking plays in sexual assault by men. It's crucial to remember in this scenario that a drunk woman behaving like a dick does not result in sexual assault. That part requires the addition of the perpetrator - almost always a man, probably drunk, and the permission/encouragement of his mates and all the people in the situation that the two people are located in. I'm not sure why ALAC decided that emphasising female vulnerability would be the most effective way of addressing this issue. Considering the way that alcohol aids and abets sexual assault through male drunkenness it seems beyond ridiculous.

This still pisses me off

2008-05-27T21:50:00.004+12:00

I was subjected to C4 this evening since my flatmate was channel surfing while watching (gak) America's Most Smartest Model. After a few bilious minutes of various network travesties, the new song from Maroon 5 and Rihanna (If I never see your face again) came on like a bad trip. It's a bland and oven-ready kind of a deal, no surprises, but the video really made me twitch. There's something uniquely annoying about the configuration of white guy with stubble staring into the camera as "ethic"/black girl writhes in femme-fatale garb in front of him on a sofa, on a couch, on a bed, while standing and while seated at one end of a long table, alternately making eye-contact and then looking away. Even better - the song appears to be an explicit paen to casual sex. Thematically tight. What could I possibly have to complain about?

I had such a reaction I went to youtube for a second look. On further consideration, all the usual culprits raised their heads.

Adam Levine (Mr Stubble) tends not to look at Rihanna much and instead eyeballs the camera directly. For me the general effect of this is to convey that Rihanna is somehow something he's imagining - he is "real" because he engages the watching audience - performing for us- while Rihanna is more contained in the mis-en-scene. She only once looks directly into the camera so her performance is almost exclusively for Mr Stubble - he is all she's aware of. Stubble remains master of the domain.

Rihanna does gets to look at Stubble actively, constructing him as an object of sexual desire, a place usually occupied by a woman, and also gets to be the looker - a place usually occupied by a man. However when she addresses her look to Stubble she constantly looks away again, as if inviting his return gaze - it's only when she gets it that she looks at him continuously. Her outfits and behaviour strongly connote the femme fatale - women who get to look and be actively seductive also but are, at least in Hollywood, usually ultimately punished for this destablisation of the gender order. And in fact at the end of the song Mr Stubble grabs the back of her neck and bends her head backwards with more than a suggestion of impending violence.

The MSM can sometimes feels like an ever tightening noose of gender construction from which there is no escape - and tonight is one of those occasions. The tropes described above are old-school Hollywood. Heterosexual gender relations and identities are constantly iterating, evolving memes that never become any less constrictive. It's business as usual, except that femininity is getting younger, tauter, and less lined and it's now uncontraversial for a white guy to openly acknowledge that he wants to fuck a black girl 10 years his junior.

Sigh.

Slight travelogue II

2008-05-26T22:42:00.012+12:00

I've got to the computer too late to make much of a go of this, but as a quick and possibly to-be-expanded update: the rest of my week in the deepest South was spent in chilly but contented congress with two old friends from primary and secondary school, an old flame and my darling olds. Mum's biopsy result wasn't flash but it wasn't the end of the world either - with luck and a fair breeze (and some fairly invasive surgery) it should be readily survivable. Go preventative medicine. This is her third lucky save, which is great on one hand, but seems simply unfair on the other..

Dunedin brought the delights of the aforementioned Regent 24-hour Booksale which could easily have gone for 36 or even 48 and still have been sporting masses of rabid bargain hunters - the theatre only started clearing out after closing time and even then it seemed to be a case of a Southern sense of politeness - more than one of the staff appeared to have been on for the entire sale and looked a bit crazed.

The sale is a fund-raiser for the Regent Theatre and means there will continue to be a venue for the New Zealand International Film Festival and many other events that would otherwise have no place in the city. It's always heartening to see it going strong. The strength of numbers at the sale also affirms Dunedin's position as the Athens of the South - nearly every inhabitant appears to love books, literature, learning and the arts. And who knew grannies liked to buy books in the middle of the night? The bands I saw/heard there were great too. It's an utterly immersive experience browsing the rows to live music and getting horribly jostled by one's fellow (hu)man.

On Saturday night I saw the Sami Sisters perform at Refuel - oh so funny, so entertaining, such great music - tight harmonies, and a sound that can only be partially encapsulated by the labels 50s girl-group (not Spectre), country cross-over and alt-pop. Two guitars, a tamborine (and un-PC jokes about Hari Krishnas) and a shaker with three divine voices, one of which was able to cover Kate Bush without wavering, and a casual shtick to die for between songs. It was like a big yummy dessert - no bones, no boring bits, and slipped down incredibly easily. They were on the same flight as me back to Auckland and I had to go and express my appreciation - embarrassing but true.

In between all this I visited my friends and their baby (he was fat and cute), I talked anthropology with another friend, I was a shoulder to cry on for my bestie and I appreciated the talent of his cat which he has taught to climb the curtains. They're already looking decidedly the worse for wear. Rain fell from concrete-coloured skies and it was cold and delicious. I'm looking forward to my next visit.

What Disney villain am I?

2008-05-22T12:47:00.004+12:00

Well - I'm not in total agreement with this, but it's the original quiz's fault since I answered all the questions honestly. Hat tip to Dancer at the standard for a little Thursday diversion.

Which Disney Villain Are You?
	You are part Ursula. You are the biggest and most powerful. Some may liken you to the business type; you drive a tough bargain, trading legs for voices. You single handedly made a whole generation distrust strangers, no matter how nice and caring they are towards "poor unfortunate souls."
	You are part Lady Tremaine. You're the evil stepmother little girls have nightmares about. Hooray for you, who helped kids learn to love their birth parents and do everything possible to avoid stepparents. Next time, though, be careful not to get in between a girl and her dreams.
Find Your Character @ BrainFall.com

Slight travelogue

2008-05-19T08:51:00.008+12:00

As a perfect coincidence my visit to the South so far has been quite literary. Before I knew Mum was having a biopsy last week I had already decided to come to Dunedin's Regent Booksale, an event I'm a huge fan of and which I haven't attended in about five years. However, unbeknownst to me when I booked the trip was the Writers and Readers Alive! Festival on in Invercargill (where my parents are domiciled), scheduled for the weekend just past. Because of this I was able to catch a lift from Dunedin with an old writer friend bound for Invercargill on Saturday, saving plane-fare and getting a free delivery of gossip, and since then I've attended three poetry readings, an open mic session, an interesting panel discussion on Otago/Southland poets and poetry and the book launch of Richard Reeve's Incontinence. (Before you judge me too harshly - Mum and Dad came to one of these events and I've also squeezed in two shopping trips and a visit to a family friend with my mother, with more to follow).

Members of the Otago Poetry Collective in attendance included Richard Reeve, Jeanne Bernhardt, Kay McKenzie Cooke, Emma Neale, David Howard, Michael Harlow, Jenny Powell and Peter Olds, in no particular order. They're all practised poetry readers/performers and for me it was a nice introduction to the work of Peter Olds and Michael Harlow who are both very established but whom I hadn't had a chance to read before. Michael in particular is a lovely reader and his work is mellifluous, simple but never predictable. A highlight was Richard Reeve's reading of a work-in-progress about a relationship between a wilding horse and sheep, possibly a treatise on what it is for two humans to be together. I was also rather enarmoured of Emma Neale's launch speech for Incontinence which was generous and incisive in its appreciation of Richard's incredible skill with form - which is, according to Emma, and in my comparatively uninformed opinion, unequalled in contemporary New Zealand poetry. The panel discussion about Otago/Southland poets concluded that poetic voices in the South are more distinctive than those in the North, possibly because of the influence of the two main writing schools (Vic's International Institute Modern Letters, and the Auckland University Master of Creative Writing) which tend to produce poets with similar flavours.

I read three of my own pieces at an open-mic event for Southland poets (I think I still count - being from Southland is not something one escapes) and received generous and thoughtful feedback from David Howard and Jeanne Bernhardt. All in all it was a great surprise experience. I remain hopeful that the week will continue kindly.

Out of towner

2008-05-17T17:31:00.002+12:00

Apologies for the lapse in time since my last post and the brevity of this one. I've had a busy week preparing for some time off, and am currently in the South Island in the bosom of family and friends. My mum has just had a biopsy and is waiting for the results, and my bestie has just been gently let down and feels like arse - what better reason for heading into the cold than an attempt to bring cheer? I hope to blog on nevertheless....

Presidential campaign illustrates my point

2008-05-11T13:53:00.003+12:00

Recent-ish comments by Steve Pierson at the handmirror about the low level of female participation in the comments threads at the standard prompted me to reflect again on the issue of gendered space on the net. I was also interested to read an op-ed piece in Truthout about how having a female presidential candidate has increased female participation in the American democratic process.

As illustrated by the Truthout article, exemplars are really important to increasing the participation of individuals from groups who are under-represented, whatever the field in question. Ever noticed how you reach a point in your life where everyone you know is getting married? Or having kids? Or how children quite often end up in the same profession as one of their parents? Knowing someone who is doing something - like writing a blog for example, or publishing poetry, or film-making, or studying a tertiary degree, or going overseas (to name but a handful of examples from my own life) takes that something, whatever it is, from the realm of the imaginary into the realm of the possible. A prominent example of women on the vanguard of change - Marie Curie (scientist) was part of a highly educated, very bright family. Exemplars don't have to be the same as you - they just have to be someone you know and trust. But that said - in the arena of the internet, or where your main contact with an activity is through the mass media, being able to identify with someone doing the activity you want to participate in is very important. Mass media and even peer-to-peer communication demand that we identify with the "characters" that we come in contact with as we decode the text or film we're consuming. And it's much easier to do that with someone you can see is similar to you. Women in America are voting with their feet and getting into politics in greater numbers in the wake of Clinton's campaign.

And even though it shouldn't be necessary, exemplars can cause wider shifts in thinking about who does what. In the case of Clinton, seeing her taken seriously as a political contender (even despite the sexism of a good chunk of the political commentary surrounding her) suddenly means that the two main political parties in America can now sanction female candidates as likely to capture the vote in a way they were too conservative to do before. Male candidates were safe choices - now they're one of a growing plurality of choices.

Peer support is also hugely significant: New Zealand's first female registered doctor, Margaret Cruickshank was a twin who studied throughout her school life with her sister (a double masters graduate) and best friends with the first female medical graduate Emily Siedeberg. Suffragettes around the world worked together to get the vote. Second-wave feminism was based on shared experience and activity. The filmmakers (* * *) I most admire in New Zealand are women and I've honed most of my skills while working with another woman filmmaker.

These are disparate examples and anecdotal evidence (hey - this is a blog after all) but they do indicate that women doing something makes it possible for other women to imagine doing it. Getting back to my opening point, if the standard wants more women to comment then they should probably have more women writing. At the moment Steve is posting about 60% or more of all the pieces being run, and there are no writers who can be obviously identified as female. I assumed that all the posters were male, which is apparently not the case, but I bet I'm not the only one. Choice of topic might be an issue, and the stoushing style of interaction, coupled with some really brain-dead and/or sexist comments are not usually something that women indulge in when in more female dominated spaces. However - I'd be interested to see what would happen at the standard if there were more writers identifying themselves as women. Given all available evidence I'd be inclined to expect that the number of comments by women would increase and that this would quickly snowball, and that the change to commenting style would make it a space women would be more interested in occupying.

Whether I'm right or not remains to be seen....

Conditions and possibilities

2008-05-10T23:21:00.004+12:00

Last night I went to see On the Conditions and Possibilities of Helen Clark Taking me as her Young Lover, a powerpoint presentation delivered with mouth-frothing intensity by a character called Richard Meros. Given the enthusiastic reviews I'd read it was about what I'd expected - less than hoped for but still quite good. Meros' tweedy pants were cliched but charming, as were his font choices, and AndrewE would have been impressed by his reliance on image and animation over text throughout most of the powerpoint slides. Never have pie graphs been so menacing or Condy Rice so positively portrayed.

Apart from an obvious bias towards Helen Clark, the "lecture" didn't engage much in partisan politics - Rogernomics, female prime ministers and the change in New Zealand's social landscape wrought by both were presented with wit of the funny variety and the Jane Austen kind, which is to say that the presentation was, at least in many parts, an intelligent commentary on New Zealand's current social and political landscape heading into the 2008 election, coupled with sexual innuendo and personal details that made one want to cross one's legs. The delivery was, as previously indicated, delivered in a uniformly fortissimo fashion, but this suited the character and his purported carnal intentions towards Aunty Helen uncannily well. Meros did *not* break stride at any point in the proceedings.

In short - anyone who reads or writes a polly blog, enjoys tweed, makes use of powerpoint, is part of a high-school debating team or parliament, or who is, in fact, Helen Clark, should make a date to see On the Conditions and Possibilities of Helen Clark Taking Me as her Young Lover. It is not devoid of charm and may still be playing at the Classic Basement here in Auckland, although some reports indicate it finished tonight.

Actual reviews and further information here.

A visit from the parking fairies

2008-05-05T21:21:00.003+12:00

My weekend has been interesting. So interesting I can hardly bring myself write to write about it.

The fun and games began on Saturday. I dropped friends, up from Dunedin for the Foofighters concert, to their hotel in the city and parked at the astronomically overpriced carpark next to the building. Next thing you know, some random French guy walks up to me and gives me his parking receipt - free parking till midnight. Sweet. We dropped luggage, got everyone settled and then I went to a family barbecue. So far so good.

Later on that night I came back to the hotel, picked everyone up again and headed to Skycity. The idea was that I would park there and we would all go to dinner in the Observatory up the tower.

What happened was this: I spent 20 minutes trying to find a non-existent spot in the Skycity carpark, dropped everyone off because they were, at this stage, late for their dinner reservations, and headed for the exit - sweating and with a cronking headache. I was pleased that the parking attendant didn't even try to make me pay for the priviledge of spending a fruitless half-hour wasting gas. His unhappy frown indicated that the stream of cars I could see leaving without being able to find a spot is probably a common occurrence.

I circled the adjacent blocks, impeded by pedestrians and other cars (giant SUVs primarily) and finally found a narrow parallel park on the right hand side of a one way. I was just shoe-horning myself in when a valet from the Heritage Hotel came out and volunteered to help. I was doubtful that the car would fit - it's a long-bodied liftback - but I decided to trust him. Five minutes later I was leaving my number having cracked the radiator grill on a GTO, and kicking myself.

And it just got worse. I unhappily relocated to the most expensive parking building known to man, and managed to stagger up to the Observatory - but only after driving into a pillar and damaging my own car. By the time I got to my cold entree I wanted to shoot someone. I managed to make some sort of conversation during the rest of the meal but it wasn't my best effort.

And yet - the next day I parked up at the overpriced park next to the hotel again, so I could head in and play some cards and drink some beers. And no sooner had I stepped outside the car than a woman walked up to me and gave me a parking receipt - free parking till midnight.

The GTO driver hasn't called. Yet.

Eroding freedoms?

2008-05-03T10:32:00.006+12:00

Two things have recently got me thinking about the issue of social freedoms in relation to the current government. Yesterday No Right Turn drew attention to a piece of anti-graffiti legislation that, if passed, will allow people to be convicted for carrying materials that could be used to mark a surface (see here for the Law and Order Committee report).

A few weeks ago, AndrewE asked Helen Clark via the standard's "ask the leaders" series "I’ve always voted Labour (was even a member of the Party) but this year I’m planning on voting National as I’m very concerned by the erosions in our freedoms that have happened under your watch. Why am I wrong?" and got an answer that wasn't one: "I know of no erosions of freedoms which have occurred on our watch. Any such assertion is sheer spin from the National Party and its friends. If the writer is perchance referring to the legislation on disciplining children, he might reflect on the fact it passed through Parliament on a vote of 113:8 with the National Party voting in support of it!"

The current government has passed a substantial quantity of socially progressive legislation (I listed some of it here) but it's also passed laws that restrict social freedoms, most obviously in relation to opening political activity against the state. These include three pieces of anti-terrorism legislation. A recent example is The Suppression of Terrorism Bill 2007 (see here for a Global Peace And Justice press release) which increases grounds for arrest while protesting politically and takes its lead from US-lead policy.

While I don't believe that the EFB, for example, is going to substantially affect freedom of speech, and I'm comfortable with s59's outlawing of violence to children within the family, it's apparent that even though this government has been one of the most socially progressive we've possibly ever had, it's also certainly the most proscriptive that we've had in recent times. I'm saddened that Andrew's question wasn't used as an opportunity to address the issue of social freedoms. I suppose that would have been asking too much since no astute politician will volunteer to raise specific contentious issues if they can get away with not doing so.

Setting aside the issue of anti-terrorism, the idea that anti-graffiti legislation will soon mean carrying a spray can or a felt-tip is a criminal offence is ridiculous to me and it gives the police, (a group whose "discretion" I harbour perfectly reasonable doubts over since a gratuitous batoning incident I witnessed at close hand in 1993, augmented by Louise Nicholas's story and associated cases) far too much choice about how to enact the law. It could easily be argued that s59 gives the people in blue too much discretion also, but in reality it's much harder to police stuff that goes on inside the home unless someone actually calls them in. Anti-graffiti laws, by contrast, will probably create more necessity for police to stop and question people and assume that that they're criminals. We get deeper into territory where looking "dodgy" and being in the wrong place at the wrong time are almost crimes in themselves.

This is not to say that I'd advocate a swing to the right. National are not looking attractive as policy-makers at the moment. But, at least for me, it's time to start considering in more detail the policies of the Greens and the Maori Party. I may also cast a jaundiced eye over New Zealand First and United Future, but only because it's good to be fully informed.

Boobs on Thursdays

2008-05-02T23:41:00.005+12:00

According to Nightline, a mall in South Auckland has a bar that drops the blackout curtains in the windows on Thursday late nights and staffs itself with topless women. The owner is a woman and she's all for it. The landlord is a man and he's all for it. The local councillor is a woman and she's scandalised and characterises the topless bit as a warm-up act for the hookers up the street. She also cites fears that children might see "breasts on display" while shopping. The topless staff were not interviewed for the story.

I'm not sure what I find worse - the sanctimony, the objectification, the hypocrisy (since when were the strip bars virtually next door to both the viaduct and density housing in central Auckland subject to the same moral outrage?) or a social system which makes all these options popular and easy. Or the telling fact that it's sort of ok to bare one's breasts in the name of commerce but probably not to be publicly identified to be doing so.

This is one aspect of gender politics I remain incredibly ambivalent about. Do we conclude that something is rotten in the state of Denmark (heh) if some women elect to be paid to be looked at partially naked and some men elect to pay for this in some way? What does it mean about the relationship between men and women more broadly? And what exactly does it say about New Zealand as a society that the women who go topless in South Auckland on Thursday nights don't appear to want to go on TV and talk about how it makes them feel to the rest of us?

Which brings me to the Danish boobs video (see commentary at kiwiblogblog - I can't find the original youtube article) - I'm so ambivalent about this piece of media that I've been unable to finish my post on it. But on the surface, I have to say it displays a healthier attitude to the human female form than we seem to be right now, even if it contains a lot of normalising discourse (young, blonde, thin, pert) about what's ok to find attractive. I guess, given that the Danish government is paying the women to remove their clothes it's not the same straight commercial relationship you see in the bar situation, but even so, there are parallels - the women are still being paid to be looked at topless.

I think it might be too late in the evening to unravel exactly what the relationships between sex, shame," the gaze" and the commodification of women's bodies in both situations are, much less where I stand on them. However, this whole mess is indicative of the fact that gender continues to be a heavily contested terrain, even if it's easier to ignore than engage with at times.

English identifies an issue

2008-05-01T09:16:00.006+12:00

On BFM with Mikey Havoc this morning Bill English raised as an issue the health risks associated with substandard state housing. However when Mikey asked what National planned to do about it English could only say they were looking into it.

On the back of The NZ Listener's report about dodgy referrals to private accommodation by Housing New Zealand this indicates we continue to have a serious housing problem among those on very low incomes. A serious problem that warrants serious attention.

I'm situated on the left of the political spectrum but right now my main concern with National is not their right-leaning focus but the very small amount of time left for them to actually get a massive chunk of complex policy in place before the election. What's there already seems ad hoc. As an example, National have floated the idea of creating a public television broadcaster. Who would have thought that was likely from a centre-right party? Inconsistencies like this in National's core approach indicate there is no clear vision of governance coming from within the party. I find this almost more worrying than a decisive policy move to the right. If they, once in government, start creating legislation without a clear conceptual frame, then we're going to have to wear those inconsistencies for a long time.

My other major concern is that National will get into office without a real mandate because they haven't presented enough policy for voters to be able make an informed decision about what they're likely to do once elected.

Hopefully I've either missed the boat completely or there's a monster press release in there somewhere waiting to reveal all.

Slight update on "What's in a name?"

2008-04-30T18:06:00.006+12:00

After posting my musings on the gendered ways people (probably men) treat (probably) women in comments threads on political blogs I've had the happy experience of getting into a couple of (minor) stoushes with (probably) blokes over at the standard. I guess I spoke too soon. Still - it's never too late for a volte-face. I say "(probably) blokes" because of their names, the things they said and the aggressive way they behaved, but there's no way of knowing if my assumptions are correct, which makes the argument a bit vexed. If you really want to see the threads go here and here and sift through. The other complicating factor about comments at the standard (or any polly blog) is the fact that they tend to be interpreted according to the writers' left or right political affiliations, and in terms of stoushing, this is far more important than one's gender in terms of who's likely to support your comments and who's likely to get stuck in.

I do continue to think however, that there are online spaces in which women don't always feel comfortable to contribute. Recent second-hand reportage from bloggers I know off-line has suggested that there are women who've been forced out of their OWN internet spaces or silenced in others through intimidation from people who, if they aren't men, certainly purport to be and also seem to act that way (if anyone can be said to "act" when all they're able to do is write text). And there are definitely blogs which are openly misogynist in tone (the aforementioned whaleoil.co.nz for example) as well as blogs which address topics more usually enjoyed by a particular gender and are thusly populated.

I've also had experiences on blogs where a (probably) guy will raise an issue to do with women, I'll weigh in as a woman, but the comment thread just continues on as if I hadn't said anything. Maybe I'm just being sensitive - it's not like the fact of my being female is necessarily going to make my point interesting to the other commenters (usually the reverse in fact) - but it feels slightly weird. Has anyone else experienced something like this?

And can an internet space (of any kind, not just a blog) be "gendered"? Like - are there places you go which you consider to be "male" and spaces which are "female" or any one of a number of other types of gender? And if so - how do you know what kind of a space you're in? And how do you behave in response? And if that's all bollocks, then why? Your answers please...

(Hat-tips for the ideas in this post to: ._., Lynn, Ari, anonymous, Robert, veronica mitchell, Ruth and ex-expat. Thanks guys - you rock. Please keep coming back!)

Update to the update: The report and debate going on over at In a strange land right now have reminded me that gender is the most obvious aspect of what a friend likes to call my "identity politics" because I'm not marked out from the norm any other way. Debates about how different social identities (class, race, ethnicity) intersect just won't die and it's because there are still power differences experienced in relation to them and all kinds of other social issues tied in. If gender is less of an issue for you than another aspect of your identity while on the net it'd be great if you'd share this.

Funeral humour

2008-04-30T09:35:00.003+12:00

This has been up at The Hand Mirror for the last few days and I'm finally getting around to linking to it. There's nothing like a cutting riposte to even the field now and again....

Pavlova!

2008-04-29T22:49:00.007+12:00

I see on Nightline that my old lecturer, Helen Leach, has definitively confirmed that the modern Pavlova was first "released" in a New Zealand cookbook in 1929 after the ballerina Pavlova's tour of the Antipodes. Australia apparently didn't pick up the recipe till the 30s. They might have Pharlap's heart in a jar but we retain the dessert. Sweet.

An interim job

2008-04-27T22:58:00.003+12:00

Greetings. Those of you who stop by with any frequency will have noticed that the posting cupboard has been a bit bare recently. This has to do with working on a funding application and a large proportion of 12+ hour days experienced in the last week. I'm working on something about the Danish boobs video at the moment and hope to have it up soon (tho not today). The politics of an MP including something like this on his website are truly fascinating, as are the gender politics actually represented in the video itself.

Colonising the net

2008-04-21T20:46:00.003+12:00

A comment last week on my post “what’s in a name” included a link to an article written by a female gamer who plays World of Warcraft online (hat-tip: ._.). The game is populated by over 10 million players who take characters with certain powers and work their way up through the levels of the game. There is fighting, socialising and the keeping of virtual pets. I can’t say much more than this because I haven’t played it. However, I note with interest the perception inside this heavily populated virtual world that “women do not exist on the internet”. This is a direct quote from the aforementioned article and the view is substantiated by two youtube clips that a friend at work sent me, and by conversations we’ve had about his gaming life.

The gamer who wrote the article about her WoW gender alientation experiences usually plays as a male character. Ergo the other players assume she’s male. Her article includes a raft of anecdotes about being asked for pictures to prove she’s a girl, about the time she inadvertently shut down an entire gaming episode by speaking for the first time online and thus revealing her gender (we’ve been infiltrated!), and about meeting other players or going to gaming conventions and being unable to catch anyone’s eye or being talked down to by product vendors. Being a woman made her somehow abject – even in person she was treated as invisible. People she had socialised with online couldn’t handle the physical reality of her femininity. Her experiences read like a play on the t-shirt slogan “All this and brains too” but in reverse.

The article was written in 2005, aeons ago by internet standards, and yet, I wonder if things are actually any different today. Certainly comments from female bloggers on my last post would indicate that we’ve got a long way to go before people online stop assuming that an undeclared gender or a male name means someone is also physically male (I’m as guilty of this as the next person).

The default assumption of maleness is not just an online phenomenon. Think of the times you’ve assumed that “Dr Smith” refers to a man. I’ve done it. It’s an indication that we’re still living in universe that treats the unmarked case as male – that male is “normal” and anything else is a deviation from the norm. Of course, assuming “Drs” are blokes also reflects a recent time in history when doctors were much less likely to be women than men. Least we forget.

In the case of WoW the majority of players are probably still male and may always be. There is a statistical likelihood that if you’re interacting with someone in an online game, they’re not going to be a girl. However it’s the assumption that causes all the problems. This morning in conversation there was apparently something quite revolutionary for my work friend in realising that the guys he plays with in WoW might be girls. In his experience of WoW, all female characters are treated with gender suspicion – “don’t flirt with her – she’s probably a guy”. But the same is true in reverse. Don’t not flirt with him – he might be a girl?? That’s trippy. As is the thought that male ways of interacting and behaving might be appealing to women. Fighting? Ordering people about? Enacting violence? Flaming someone on a blog? Aren’t those things supposed to be the exclusive franchise of men? Revelation was written all over his face.

There have always been reasons for women to elide their gender. Writer George Eliot did it because men’s writing was taken more seriously than anything penned by a woman. Women in WoW do it because it saves them from being hit on by guys when they just want to play and be taken seriously. I do it on Trademe because I don’t want to be stiffed by someone selling a car or some other accoutrement of masculinity. I used to do it when commenting on other people’s blogs because I wanted to hide – and then I discovered the joys of being one of the boys.

Online environments can be freeing for precisely the same reasons that they’re essentially misogynist; the undeclared gender defaults to male and people assume that male names mean men IRL. As a woman with a male handle or character you can shout and burp and fight and not care about people’s feelings and not be looked at. It’s an oddly comfortable place to be. The way that women get treated may always going to be a motivation for us to assume male identities if we can pull it off. Does the net actually offer us a way to get beyond the vicissitudes of gender? Could it be possible to escape misogyny forever by becoming metaphorically male in droves?

Sadly I think not. It’s discovery that causes the problems. One slip about how attractive Johnny Depp is, or that you’re appalled by the sexism in a blog post and it’s all over.

I reckon it’s time that women in online environments really staked their claim. There are a lot of women online and open about their gender, but it sounds like there are many more out there lurking. The only thing that will change the domination of the net by male entities and the sexism that goes with them is a wholesale population of all cyberspaces by more women who are out and more importantly - proud about it. And of course who are willing to brave the sexually explicit or sexist attention they’re inevitably going to attract. It used to be that women were bad luck on boats, in need of protection, confined to the home. But we’ve somehow managed to make it into universities, operating theatres, laboratories, the voting booth, warships, submarines, trade unions, boardrooms, the Olympics, the best-seller list, the newsroom, firestations, electrical apprenticeships, private men’s clubs, the director’s chair and space. Amongst others. This is it girls – the internet – the final, final frontier.

What's in a name?

2008-04-15T23:45:00.005+12:00

At one time I was commenting anonymously on several political blogs. I'm now commenting exclusively as myself, and I've noticed something interesting. My old pseudonym was an abbreviation of my middle name, and could be interpreted as either male or female. On reflection, I'm pretty sure that most other readers and commenters assumed I was male. And, while it could well be my imagination, I reckon people are more polite to me as a female entity than when I was assumed to be male, and are more polite to girls in the blogosphere generally - at least when they address them directly*.

All this is a propos of nothing in particular except that it was quite nice being a fake man. I felt as though what I had to say was the most important part of any comment or interaction I had online, and no quarter was given for the fact of my being female. It was like I'd sneaked into the secret boys' club where arguing is allowed. I loved it. It gave me a taste of a world where I was finally part of the male in-crowd. However temporarily.

* Whaleoil ran a post recently that was so misogynist in tone I couldn't bring myself to comment on it. And the comments that followed were worse. Improbably. They were all written with the assurance of men who expect only to be read by other men. For a link to the original post and comments, cut and paste this: http://www.whaleoil.co.nz/?q=content/truffle-hunters-vote-labour. You've been warned.

More on Housing

2008-04-14T23:33:00.002+12:00

This week's Listener has a follow-up to a story on serious housing problems in South Auckland. The original article profiled the appalling living conditions in two Mangere boarding houses (see here for additional commentary on the first article on Capitalism Bad, Tree Pretty). In the new piece, writer David Fisher indicates that a woman he originally interviewed has been evicted from her room in Abiru Lodge, along with her baby. This apparently happened as a direct consequence of her speaking out. Fisher goes on to describe her success in being relocated by Housing New Zealand, which happened extremely quickly due to her "unusual circumstances", presumably Fisher's involvement in the situation. He called both the Monte Cecilia Housing Trust and Housing NZ to try and get action.

Fisher was prepared to help the woman move her things from the boarding house and try to find somewhere else to stay - even at personal risk, as he was shoved and asked to leave the premises by someone claiming to represent the boarding house's majority shareholder. His decision to help the people in his article is admirable. Media-makers are responsible for taking other people's stories and putting them in service of a more over-arching narrative. We, and any company we work for, stand to gain more from the telling of these stories than the people who share them. It's an ethical imperative to give back and actively work for the change we advocate in a story and a lot of the time this is easier said than done, but Fisher has taken the opportunity presented.

However I remain extremely ambivalent about Fisher’s choice of final comments. National housing spokesman Phil Heatley is quoted claiming that housing minister Maryan Street "is more interested in hiding the problem in an election year, and in protecting the corporation, than in facing up and dealing with the causes". He invokes the concept of a "growing underclass" that John Key has "been warning us about". I'm sure that Labour wishes housing wasn't a problem being raised in an election year. The unofficial referrals by Housing New Zealand to the boarding houses in Fisher’s article are not a good look. But there's no comparison available with how things were before Labour started their first term. And I’ve seen nothing so far presented by National to suggest they'd make the provision of services like emergency housing any easier for the most vulnerable to access. Their core principle of individual responsibility means that people like the woman in Fisher's article are likely to be treated like bludgers and left to their own devices. And the gap between rich and poor got wider under the last National government. I’m seriously under-convinced that they have the policy or the desire to turn the current situation around. A left-leaning government at least has the will to do so and now, with Fisher’s article, the incentive.

It ain't called a singles club for nothin'

2008-04-14T19:19:00.004+12:00

Picture this:

Noon on Sunday. I, being a good little girly swot, am perched on the sofa trying to compose an intelligent analysis of the housing issue updated in this week's Listener. Cue a rattling at the lock and then - in bursts my absentee flatmate. Her long blonde hair is punked up from sleep, dark roots on show, and her eyes are hidden behind a cocaine-cool set of D&G rip-offs. She looks, in short, like a low-rent (but very cool) version of Princess Superstar. As Princess stumbles across the room wearing last night's outfit and exuding a miasma of booze she announces "I'm sooo hungover. AND I slept with Emma's flatmate. And I got my period and he was humiliated because there's blood all over his white sheets. God, I think I'm still drunk - my last drink was at 6am....maybe it's a good thing you didn't come out".

Lordy. Probably. Made me smile though. Vive la revolution.

A little linky love in the gender department

2008-04-10T19:40:00.005+12:00

Here's to the Ex-expat for yet another interesting piece about Asia, told so nicely through the lens of personal experience. And props to the Handmirror for sending a few readers over here too. You gals are the bomb, particularly your recent go at the sexism in the ALAC ads Actually she wasn't asking for it at all and It's the victim blaming, it's not how you victim blame.

I've been commenting on male fat-cowards at Still Truckin, and have to endorse the whole blog as totally worth a look if you're interested in gender politics.

And for anyone who thinks gender politics are, like, so last century, chew on this: someone in my workplace just addressed the coffee machine in the adjacent kitchen as a slut because it wouldn't give him what he wanted. There's a certain irony there, really. But that still doesn't make it endearing.

Rudd's smooth tongue

2008-04-09T22:47:00.006+12:00

I have to admit that Kevin Rudd would be getting my vote right now were this possible - I just saw a clip of his speech about human rights abuses by China in Tibet, delivered in China, and in Chinese. And apparently local commentators thought his language was pretty good. That tricky tonality sounded alright to me, and the effort no doubt upped Rudd's general appeal, despite a message most Chinese probably found less than palatable. Nicely done mate.

For more on this try kiwiblogblog's Heavy Kevvie speaks their language.

Breaking up is hard to do

2008-04-08T22:11:00.007+12:00

I've tried a number of posts about the vicissitudes of breaking up but I can't seem to spit them out without sounding monumentally self-pitying. Naturally, this isn't hard because it does absolutely really suck. As far as I can see, the best thing anyone can do is try not to shoot themselves in the foot till things get better (I've been sorely tempted), but getting things better is a mysterious and elusive process.

Things I've found don't particularly help: helpful advice, judgments about the other person, accusations that if you're still sad after (insert randomly assigned length of time here) then you're clearly in need of help, suggestions you should fuck/fall in love with/date someone new as soon as possible to take your mind off and getting hit on (so not there yet). There's no rule book - even if a good selection of the world seem to think there is. Until this break-up I was one of the advice-giving majority. How vividly I've seen the error of my ways. And how grateful I am that girlfriends who've been through similar scenarios have been on hand to forgive previous insensitivities on my part and reiterate that "you're going to feel like crap for ages - and you can't get out of it, so stop trying".

Oddly one other thing I've found quite helpful has been exes. I'm on fairly good terms with the majority of mine, and seeing them reminds me that it is indeed possible to get past a break-up and on to happier terms with one's previous paramours. And, inevitably, that break-ups are usually for a reason. However difficult that is to assimilate at the time.

And of course, there's the inevitable existential crises to navigate, decisions about the future to make and a whole raft of stuff that, really, I'd just as soon forget about. But after a while it takes more energy to avoid life than it does to live it. So that's what I'm doing - taking the path of least resistance and stumbling on. Is that winning? I guess it's near enough.

How cool is this??

2008-04-07T22:32:00.005+12:00

I know I've been plugging the Standard a bit recently, but I can't resist this...at present they're running a series of posts that call for readers to put up questions for the leaders of the main parties in this election. This week's victim is none other than Helen herself.

I'm lamenting my current inability to ask a decent question. Helen Clark impresses (and even scares) the shit out of me. On a personal level I've watched with joy the growth of the creative arts and industries since Labour took office this time around, thanks in no small part to Helen being Minister of Culture and Heritage. The fact that she believes in enabling artistic and intellectual expression, that it has a value to offer New Zealand beyond what it can return financially, is such an enormous contrast to the attitude of the previous government. Artists and creatives are still a bit invisible and financially strapped but there are far more actually making a living from their art in New Zealand now than probably at any other time and I reckon that they're taken more seriously. This is a true sign of social and cultural wealth.

I also find it incredible to live in a country where the prime minister is an intellectual woman who's been engaged in politics since university and is obviously doing something she retains a great deal of passion for (and is, frankly, a lot more skilled in than most of her contemporaries). There's a lot to admire in that, even if I recognise that there must have been some interesting compromises along the way.

So - go on - think of something cool to ask Aunty Helen.

Lies, damned lies....

2008-04-05T17:07:00.007+13:00

I had a little stab of empathy this afternoon while reading the letters page of the latest Listener. Someone in my household works at APN so I still read bits of it, even though the covers frequently make me roll my eyes (and so do a number of other things). In the letter in question, the chairman of the Otago DHB, Richard Thomson, is responding to an earlier letter (by Ian Ritchie and John Davies) which stated that there are "12,000 hospital beds and 9840 managers" and that DHBs spend 60-70% of their budgets on administration.

In his response Thomson points out that the writers have conflated administration and management in their head count, which has boosted enormously the claimed proportion of managers to beds "If I include every receptionist, telephone operator, typist, records clerk and the like as a "manager" and multiply that by 20 to scale it up to the national level, I can almost get up to his figure."

However what really prompted my sympathetic response was the information Thomson supplied about what money reserved to pay administration costs is spent on: such "optional extras" as feeding patients, paying phone and electricity bills, cleaning, laundry, computer removal and transporting Dunedin-based doctors to Invercargill for clinics. The services are essential, and the roles involved are often thankless but without both the hospital would cease to function.

Administration is also often a thankless task, and yet numerous previous work experiences have taught me that good administration is the difference between an organisation or project functioning efficiently (or at all), and falling over. Organisation of people, tasks and finance has to be done - and logically if someone isn't paid to do it, then clinicians, nurses and other healthcare professionals have to take it on. Indeed, Thomson states that clinicians were the ones who resisted a final round of admin reduction at the Otago DHB on the grounds that it would affect their ability to do their jobs optimally.

Efficient systems that reduce the time and labour required for admin are essential, but there seems to be a lot of a fetishisation of frontline healthcare professionals in discussions about healthcare. This devalues the other very essential roles involved and ignores the reality of what it takes to provide sustainable healthcare in an environment where those with medical expertise are free to practice medicine and leave as much of the rest of the deal to people with different skills.

At the end of the tunnel

2008-04-02T22:59:00.009+13:00

For all that I've bagged old-school print media, I was interested to see this article in the Weekend Herald about a new model for mental healthcare. Mind and Body Consultants employs people who have experienced clinical mental illness, and are now in good shape themselves, to do peer support with people who have more acute clinical illnesses.

I found the model presented really intriguing because, having had several really good friends suffer through various mental health issues, I've noticed that recovery seems to be determined to a huge extent by the ability of the person to own and manage their own experience, in spite of what other people think is normal or appropriate. In the case of my friends, medication and sympathetic healthcare were part of getting to that. However the ability to operate well day to day in an ongoing way seems to come through a strange sort of self-driven boot-straps haul up from a place of being hugely fucked to somewhere better. The person has to do it themselves, and to get there they have to somehow get their heads around the idea that they can. What could be better for that than talking weekly with a living breathing example of someone who has already made the journey?

There was a post and comments at The Standard a few weeks ago about throwing more resources at the issue of mental health and the peer support model would seem like a valid one to consider when allocating whatever pitiful cash is available. It would be nice to see something more than the ambulance at the foot of the proverbial in this country. I've seen this approach at work and in one instance it was a set-back and in the other it ended in suicide.

Family formation - a woman's prerogative?

2008-04-01T23:48:00.005+13:00

I just finished reading the Ex-expat's blog post at the hand mirror on the SST’s article "Kiwis with empty nests"and find myself in complete accord about how annoying it is that the article focuses on the fact that WOMEN are choosing not to have kids. It brushes over the context in which decisions about having a family are made and foists responsibility for the reproduction of the body politic exclusively on women. These are ideas that should have rotted with the Arc.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I started a Masters looking at why educated women in their twenties are choosing not to have kids. The women I spoke to wanted to finish uni, be in a career, and married with their own homes before they became pregnant. And they wanted to delay getting into stable "marriage-like" relationships until they'd graduated and established themselves in a career. Ethically and morally, they believed they would be better mothers if they waited and became more stable in themselves. They mostly shared the idea that successful women don't have kids too early. Bad for them, bad for the baby. This idea did not happen in a vacuum – it’s too pervasive for that. This is a shared concept - this is about what's happening in New Zealand right now. And rather than being prompted by any idea of preferring life without children as implied by the SST article, it was motivated by wanting to have them under the best circumstances.

Waiting can be a dicey proposition of course, but this isn’t something you think about in your twenties. I can attest to the fact that it’s remarkably easy to somehow get to your mid-30s and have none of the accepted prerequisites for optimal child-bearing in place. My doctor keeps telling me I should think about it since my ovaries are not in the best shape. But since I’m not that keen and I’d prefer not to bring a child into the world when I have neither the personal nor financial resources to do it alone, it really becomes a no-brainer. Trawling the bars of Ponsonby looking for a likely casual shag who might be persuaded into a bare-back fuck or forking out for donor sperm are just not options I want to pursue, and whatever one's politics, at this point in history, a male of the species is still required for progenation. Something the SST seems to have forgotten. Where are the MEN in all this?? Why do demographers (or journalists) never ask a man why he isn't married and/or doesn’t have kids? It’s exactly as statistically likely that a man will become a father each time he has sex as it is that a woman will become a mother.

To be fair, there is a pragmatic answer to that question - it's the underlying assumptions that get to me. The biological reality of childbearing means any woman will know if she’s a mother, and so will most of the rest of the world. Parturition and nurturance are difficult to hide. And, if all children are assigned to a mother but not a father, then they don’t get counted twice. Which is handy for demographers who deal in stats. But alongside and even within the demographic information shared in the SST article is an underlying set of assumptions about motherhood, femininity, masculinity, desire and identity that are unaddressed. The article indirectly implies that women are supposed to want motherhood – it’s normative, and if we don’t, even if it’s for perfectly conventional social reasons (like “ I don’t have a husband”), somehow we’re deviant, will die alone and are also responsible for New Zealand’s failure to replace its body politic (or citizens).

Frankly, these ideas are direct from the Old Testament. It’s more than a little disturbing to find them in a broadsheet article in the cold light of a 21st Century day.

European leaders more hardline than Helen re Tibet

2008-03-31T08:51:00.005+13:00

According to the Guardian the German Chancellor is boycotting attendance at the Olympics because of "the crackdown" by China in Tibet. The polish and Czech state leaders are also refusing to attend. This may mean France follows suit and makes the British intention to attend a more difficult one politically. Angela Merkel has has also recently met with the Dalai Lama, which has "enraged" China's leaders. An EU boycott of the games has been suggested but is not currently likely.

When compared to the stance being taken within the EU, New Zealand's hands-off approach to the situation is looking increasingly influenced by our pending freetrade agreement with China. I'd like to see a clearer position on China's human rights issues being taken by the government, even though we have limited political leverage, and even if it affects the deal. To compromise ethics over money is something I'm deeply ambivalent about.

Consumption – it’s still a disease

2008-03-26T23:26:00.007+13:00

The doco I’m currently working on is about a sinking island. It you're interested you can discover more about it at thereoncewasanisland.com and takuufilm.blogspot.com. The film explores the trials faced by a culturally unique community as their island home slowly disintegrates due to a combination of climate change and geological factors. The island is called Takuu and it’s part of the Autonomous Region of Bougainville, which is in turn part of Papua New Guinea. We recently sponsored a translator from Takuu to come over and help us extract a bit more from the interviews that were done last year when the director was on the island, and it’s been an interesting experience hosting someone from somewhere so, well, poor.

Our translator has lived in Rabaul, which is north of Bougainville, and in PNG’s capital, Port Moresby, as well as Takuu so she’s fairly cosmopolitan, at least by PNG standards . But nevertheless she doesn’t shop, doesn’t drive, spends NZ$35 on groceries a week and hates going to the movies. You can’t buy new books in PNG (they come in with travellers who on-sell them, apparently), so borrowing them is fine with her. PNG currently has a comparatively tiny carbon footprint and this is largely because most people there just don’t have enough money to buy the volume of stuff that we do or travel as much, and so they just…don’t. I’ve begun to feel incredibly guilty (as opposed to moderately guilty) about fairly fucking ordinary things like going for coffee, buying spare Ethernet cables, owning a car, flying, using a computer with a broadband connection that doesn’t drop every time the power supply fails, continuous power, hot running water, long showers….you get the picture. I feel especially guilty when I think about how the life-style that we collectively share here pretty much demands that we consume, simply in order to participate in normal cultural and social events. I’ve been horribly poor before (by NZ standards - which is certainly relative), and I can still remember how on the outer I felt when I couldn’t afford to buy Birthday gifts, or drive to visit people outside the CBD or to the beach, or get books or new shoes or visits to the dentist (I’m still paying off a crown actually), or go to the movies or out for coffee or dinner, or to the theatre or a concert. In PNG most people don’t regularly do a lot of that stuff, or if they do they do it less or they figure out some simpler alternative, like making things. Here in uber-middle-class land we kind of have to buy goods and services just in order to socialise and be part of normal life. It’s like a particularly nasty version of peer-pressure. I never thought I’d feel so much like a vapid blonde cheerleader.

If we’re to survive peak oil, let alone the massive and fast approaching vicissitudes of climate change we’re going to have to get used to having, expecting and doing less. And when I see things from the perspective of our translator, less not only seems do-able - it also seems fair. Most people other places in the world currently do fine on it. We can too.

Satorial humour on Nightline

2008-03-26T22:36:00.009+13:00

Was just watching an article on Nightline about tax cuts and noticed that Michael Cullen and reporter Duncan Garner were wearing the exact same jacket - a particularly natty, black, single-breasted affair with a heavy white pin-stripe. Anchor Samantha Hayes was also wearing a girly version of the same thing, but this is in no way as amusing as a straight cut between two men wearing the same outfit, while one is offering some kind of commentary on the other. Has 3's journalistic integrity been breached? I wonder if Cullen divulges grooming tips while they're in the changing rooms at Munns??

Update: evidence of previous social contact between Cullen and Garner on Stuff - it appears a crown limo might be a more convenient place to chat about fashion, at least according to Colin Espiner.

What's in a label?

2008-03-25T10:06:00.003+13:00

I’ve recently introduced the concept of labels to the blog (see the list on the right and down a bit) and am interested to chart my changing focus over the time I’ve been writing it. I began by blogging about the minutiae of living in a group flat in Grey Lynn and the dubious joys of living with a bunch of single people in their twenties. After a substantial hiatus, I moved to reportage on internet dating of a reasonably intimate nature, and have now moved again, this time towards commentary on party politics. The only thing linking all the parts together, aside from my rambunctious writing style and fondness for compound sentences, is a continuing attention to both power and gender and a willingness to mention sex, or at least allude to it. I’ve always thought that the personal is political, ever since I was a little, baby feminist. So – any linky love that I get from people on kiwiblogblog (props for the inclusion on your heroes and homies blog-list guys) may result in some initial confusion over content, but I’d urge you to read and enjoy anyway. This blog definitely dresses to the left, no matter what it’s on about.

The Fourth Estate? Try the blogosphere

2008-03-21T17:15:00.005+13:00

I’ve been reading more of thestandard.org.nzand various other political blogs since I mentioned them in a post a few weeks ago and I have to confess that I’ve become a bit of a fan. On a good day, they’re like a fresh, sophisticated op-ed page, albeit one with a decidedly and avowedly left or right focus and in the case of the standard a solidly one-eyed position on John Key. Why am I allowing myself to be engaged by the didactic and doubtless biased prose issuing forth from the blogosphere? That would be a lot to do with the paucity of any kind of interesting commentary or solid investigation in mainstream media, the impact of capital into editorial decision-making, the lack of meaningful public debate in other online avenues and, basically, the “vibe”, man. The stories told in the mainstream media form a point of navigation. I wouldn’t be without them. I’m just pleased there’s an alternative.

In terms of commentary, the op-ed pages of The Herald are sometimes worth a read but seem hampered by the subbing required to fit guest writers’ unpractised sentence construction to the requirements of the paper. They’re also inconsistent in quality. Regular column writers in most major current affairs publications are tamped down in their styles, often lacking passion and both guest writers and regulars can be anodyne to read. Maybe this is partly a generational issue but it’s just boring, mum.

I used to work loading content to nzherald.co.nz. Our desks were situated in The Herald newsroom thus I was and was privy, each shift, to the construction of the morning paper. I observed that reporters have a sophisticated but instrumental relationship to politics (and news events more generally) which reflects a media focus on locating the next good story – not unlike a room full of rich high-school girls looking for the next juicy scandal. Politically informed discussion, investigation or background on issues are, by newsroom convention, timing and fiscal necessity, truncated. Every effort is made to provide enough facts for readers to interpret a story in context and reporters and subs, even the younger ones, are aware of that context to varying degrees. But, honestly, the resulting news is simplified, dull and, oddly, hard to make sense of compared to the kind of polemical, investigative or even just well-researched piece you often find on the better quality blogs, including the Standard. This reflects the fact that blog writers are discussing things they’re invested in because of their politics – they do good work because they believe in it. Passionate arguments are always a more interesting read and often a more comfortably constructed one. It also reflects the fact that they don’t have to work to hard word limits and are unencumbered by editorialising, a need for the appearance of “objectivity”, or fears about fleeing advertisers as readership drops. After my time in the newsroom I have to say I observed the impact of this fear subtly influencing decisions about news, especially what becomes a front page story, on a daily basis. Capital has a huge impact on what stories get told and what stories get noticed.

Given that I’m left-leaning, I’m fairly comfortable with the inherent bias involved in telling stories the way the Standard and other lefty blogs do (try kiwiblogblog, NewZ Blog, Fighting Talk). Also, it’s openly stated, and I trust things where positionality is clear, even the writing of frothing righties which I might not seek out as actively. This is because I know exactly how to decode it. I’m not so comfortable with the increasingly “yellow” journalism of New Zealand broadsheets or, for example, The Listener’s apparent move away from a previously left editorial stance to capture a broader readership. I’m not always sure where to place what’s being discussed in these publications or what interpretive frame to put on it because it’s not politically consistent – it’s aimed at getting the most readers. As an example - The Herald is widely understood as a right-wing paper, and yet this is not always the case. It runs run op-ed pieces by Robert Fisk and environmentally sympathetic international pieces on global warming alongside things like a story series attacking the Electoral Finance Bill. I like knowing where a publication is coming from politically, rather than what they think the most people will want to read.

I also have to say if our media is supposed to be part of the sphere of public debate, it’s ceding its role to the blogosphere on this one. nzherald.co.nz carries a similar range of content to The Herald but with the addition of life-style blogs and “Your views” pages which I find depressingly devoid of meaningful content and engagement. The Herald moderates comments and calls for opinions on subjects that will generate the most hits. It’s a sea of lowest common denominator. By contrast, the comments sections on political blogs are part of a debate – you can chat with like-minded individuals and get stuck into people you disagree with. Thread-jacking, trolling and abuse can get ugly and frustrating at times, but they’re often hilarious and the sense that there are other people who have similar interests and opinions out there in the world can be a wonderful thing. And both commenters and posters are often better informed than I am, which leads me to want to lift my game and do more reading. I feel smarter every time I read the Standard or many of the left blogs, and, even some of the right ones (although this is usually for slightly different reasons). nzherald.co.nz does, on occasion, make me feel stupider than when I started.

I’m a fan of the Standard above all other blogs right now. They’re fresh, well-informed and very regular writers, passionately pushing a barrow I mostly feel an affinity with. They’re glib, gung-ho, and one-eyed but they definitely give a toss. Their commenters are by turns thick, hilarious, smart and vicious. It’s all very charming. But this is maybe not so different to any of the best of the left. What makes the Standard it for me right now is this: the issues they’re choosing to talk about as we head into the election are well rendered, clearly positioned, interesting and most of all, consistently on point. They attract a fantastic level of debate. And that's what keeps me coming back.

Hubris

2008-03-17T23:37:00.003+13:00

And while I remember - for self-confession, it's impossible to get past Joanna of Hubris fame. Sex is mentioned, along with a whole lot of other stuff. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll read through your fingers. And all with a pretty choice turn of phrase.

hubris.co.nz

Ah, sex. I have to read about it

2008-03-17T22:48:00.005+13:00

Stumble over this little number and wince.....

sexwithauntiekandy.blogspot.com

Gotta love the template though!

And now for something completely different

2008-03-10T22:33:00.024+13:00

I've been thinking about the idea of how gender affects the construction of self-identity for quite a while. I even enrolled in a Masters looking at why educated women feel they're not mothers in their twenties, and that was back in 1999. As a project of mine this theme typically lies fallow for a time and then surfaces again. In this vein I've recently been thinking about female filmmakers and an idea I have that they tend to concern themselves with relationship and the process of relationship (externality) and self (internality) within filmic narratives, possibly in a way that is less common among male filmmakers. I should qualify this by saying that I can't possibly support an argument that reduces men or women to one thing. I also think it would be ridiculous to suggest that just because one is a female filmmaker one can be predicted to use a particular narrative trope. But I keep seeing a an attention to relationship in some of my favourite films, and I'm struck both by the fact that they're my favourites, and also by the fact that they're often directed by women. So in this post I'm exploring what I see as some similarities between the films of three female directors and musing on whether their femaleness has something to do with what captures their creative interest.

Some things to think about: I'm going to apply the concept of "auteur" on the grounds that a director, arguably especially in an indie situation which doesn't involve a studio, is the final authority for the inclusion or exclusion of elements in a film. This is a vexed and mediated process, and filmmaking is always a group effort, but I'm going to put in a vote for the ultimate responsibility of the director for delivery of something that fulfills their vision, or, at the very least isn't a piece of crap. An ability to make things that aren't a piece of crap is usually why directors get hired, and that does reflect the level of control they are expected and obligated to exert over the finished piece.

Also, I'm not putting in an argument about "feminist" filmmakers. I'm not arguing that the directors I'm thinking of - Jane Campion, Catherine Hardwicke, Lisa Cholodenko are feminists, or trying to be. I'm exploring the idea that, as women, they concern themselves with similar themes, at least in terms of the films that I'm thinking of - The Piano, Thirteen, and Laurel Canyon. Supporting this thesis is the fact that all of the films being discussed were also written by their directors. This is a clear signal that the director had a high level of investment in and control of the themes and ideas presented in each film.

In each of these films, the main character is involved in one or more significant relationships at the beginning of the film, and these fuel the narrative and the experiences of the protagonist, and must be reconciled in some way. In the case of The Piano, main character Ada is locked into a marriage with a man she has never met, but is also tightly bound to her illegitimate daughter, and engages in a sexual liaison with a man outside the marriage. The nexus of these relationships produces the climax of the film, and it is Ada's desire to explore their boundaries and push against the symbolic order expressed by them that generates the plot. Campion contains Ada within a conventional universe by the end of the film by allowing her to marry her lover, but maintains an attention to the inner workings and destructive quality of the family and the relationships within it.

Laurel Canyon asks its driven, reactionarily conservative male protagonist Sam to negotiate his own self-identity in relation to his bohemian record-producer mother Jane, and thus decide if he will stay with his girlfriend Alex or follow his heart and be with the woman he has fallen in love with, Sara. At the same time Alex is exploring the boundaries of her relationship with Sam when she gets involved with Jane's latest project and is gradually drawn towards a sexual exploration involving Jane and Jane's rock-star boyfriend Ian.

Thirteen explores the destructive qualities of the relationship between two teenage girls, Tracey and Evie, focusing on the changes experienced by Tracey who was a previously responsible girl-child. Family relationships for both girls are set up as major motivating factors for bad behaviour.

These films seem like an obvious contrast to the typical Hollywood construction where the hero/ine is rewarded with a relationship or sexual access to the object of their affections at the end of the film. There is significant attention to the way that family relationships create personality and identity. Relationships between people determine and drive the plot of each film, and relationship problems and the resolution or confrontation of these problems are ultimately the conclusion of each film (I could go into more detail here, but to see if you agree with this one-over lightly conclusion, you should probably watch the films in question yourself).

Interestingly from a feminist perspective, boundaries of acceptable female behaviour within relationships are transgressed but with arguably less judgement or containment than is often the case in Hollywood cinema. Ada is unfaithful in her marriage and loses a finger but escapes to marry her lover and have a happy, erotically-charged marriage. Sam's ultimate reconciliation with his flakey yet brilliant mom and the choice he must make between his filandering girlfriend and the woman he has fallen in love with force his character and the audience to consider how reasonable the boundaries set by society on women's behaviour really are. Tracey's boundary-pushing activities (drugs, sex, promiscuous behaviour) are portrayed as a complex process of working out things Tracey has been confronted with in her own family relationships, even though the film leaves us with little doubt about their ultimate destructive qualities. Resolution comes with realisation rather than a simple containment of Tracey back into a "stable" family situation and her forced acceptance of behavioural norms. In each film, each woman ultimately exerts an independence of spirit and intent - she exerts her self within a relationship and in response to it - and is rewarded for it.

So - in conclusion - my three female (but not necessarily feminist) auteur directors give significantly more attention to women's transgressive self-determination within relationships than a "typical" studio film, and relationships and conflict within and between them drive the plots of the films discussed.

To determine if an attention to relationship and the determination of self is something that female auteurs regularly give attention to I'd have to spend more time watching movies than I currently have available. This is just an observation based on three of my favourite films and their directors. Any other views, comments on the (in)accuracy of my close-reading, or further evidence for or against my proposition would be most welcome.

Love's Labour's Lost?

2008-03-09T22:29:00.009+13:00

In conversation with a mate this afternoon I got to thinking about the legacy that the current Labour-lead coalition will likely be leaving at the next election. In a previous political post, No left turn, no right of way, I was thinking about the implications of the left-right spectrum in relation to a collective or individualist approach to social and economic policy. In this respect the Labour-lead government has presided over the implementation of things like Kiwisaver (with a significant government and employer contribution to individual saving), and Working For Families (targeted tax-breaks for people who are helping society by doing their best to replace our "body politic" - i.e create more citizens), and no doubt some other legislative changes that I'm not remembering at this point in the evening. But my point- and I do have one - is that more specifically socially progressive legislation created during the last two terms may in fact be what we end up remembering them for. My mate and I counted The Civil Union Act and the Crimes (Substituted Section 59) Amendment Bill, otherwise branded in the media as the anti-smacking bill that I mentioned in a comment on the aforementioned previous post as well as The Prostitution Law Reform Act. These have only a limited relationship to the economic aspects of governance but represent significant changes to the legal rights of some of our citizens.

My speculation that socially progressive legislation might be more of a legacy for Labour et al is a pretty shallow view of the situation - I'm sure there's a bunch of legislation that I'm not thinking of - but things like Homosexual law reform and The Contraception, Sterilisation, and Abortion Act 1977, which legalised abortion under some circumstances for some women, do tend to stick in my mind more than things like successive changes to the minimum wage. Does this make me a bit of girl? Do things relating to human rights stick out for me because of my broadly "feminist" worldview (oh - who uses that word these days)? I can't really say for sure, but I'm interested to know what anyone else thinks Labour's legacy might be.

Cheaty cheaty

2008-03-09T21:14:00.003+13:00

I have no idea where this came from but I like it. Maybe you will too.

Seven Deadly Sins

Chickenmash

2008-03-01T15:07:00.003+13:00

Click here for two lucid posts on the anti-smacking debate and a truly elegant blog with lots to browse. Sweet....

No left turn? No right of way?

2008-02-27T23:32:00.005+13:00

In times of inner turmoil it's always nice to be able to turn one's attention to the outside world - yes - it's still there, even if this becomes disturbingly easy to forget this while being all lovesy-smuvsy and in the dreary disbelief of a break-up.

We have an election this year. And while New Zealand politics is almost always annoying parochial back-biting and the same tired old shit wearing a slightly different navy-blue suit as far I'm concerned, the reality is that where the suits position themselves on the political spectrum allows us to better predict what they might do when in office. And their decisions, like it or not, grossly affect many facets of our lives. No matter how irritating and/or dry media reports on national politics are in New Zealand, we should try to pay attention since what our politicians and their parties decide in between offending each other across the house and behaving badly outside of it affects us directly.

Since I started uni I've had s sneaking suspicion that even extremely well-educated people who should unquestioningly know better really have no clue about what the political spectrum is. I consider this to be a complete indictment of the New Zealand school system and I invite what might be left of my readers to submit comments stating where they position themselves in relation to communism and facism, or whatever bland centre-bound party they'd like to navigate from - Peter Dunn, anyone? I predict a resounding silence and I'm refusing to entirely blame the paltry nature of my readership.

If you're confused I suggest trying this little number for some lefty commentary with a heavily Labour slant, and this for some more right-leaning babble. Each of these blogs claims the other is being run by a political party at the opposite end of the spectrum. Given the anonymous quality of the writing and much of the commentary, it's anyone's guess, but the ping-pong quality of the exchanges between the two often expressed is almost reminiscent of a little parliament and press gallery going hard in the cyberspace. Instructive and often hilarious, if somewhat plagued by trolling and parochiality of the highest order, these blogs are at the very least far more interesting than page "just shoot me now and be done " A2 of the New Zealand Herald.

More ironies and quite a bit of shit

2008-02-22T22:37:00.004+13:00

Those of you who know me IRL will have, to one degree or another, vicariously experienced the happy hay-ride that has been my recent relationship with an old friend who is now, alas, my ex. It was four months of mostly pure ecstasy, followed closely by four weeks of mostly unmitigated hell, but such is the way of things. Ohhhh - I can be slightly blase now, but, of course at the time the breaking-up part was terrible, and naturally from time to time it still is. His decision but, I really must say, for all the right reasons.

Many of you, in an infinitude of kindnesses, have sat through my delusional ranting, occasional anger and obsessional attention to the songs of PJ Harvey (no one really understands like she does). It's a wonderful universe that can offer up a trip to the bookstore and to the library, long phone calls late at night, a conversation about war, plane fare to the South Island, Wellington's South Coast beaches on a bright day, herons, two views from land's end, a sonnet, a writer's bursary, the offer of a weekend in the Coromandel if I want it, a cup of tea on an old brocade sofa, a compliment and the offer of a carving from a true tohunga, a seat in the stalls while Ms Harvey performed in Auckland, being left to cry, being distracted from crying, being loved, being respected, and being - the only thing you really get in between an infinitude of darkness, before and after.

In the last five months here have been two stark reminders of the darkness before and after being. A close friend of my sister's - in fact her ex-fiance - killed himself outside her Auckland flat in December, and this week a girl I was in primary school with was killed by her father before he killed himself. Mike was ill with depression, made worse by instances of abuse and Graeme and Sarah-Jane were both ultimately victims of Graeme's recently manifested bi-polar disorder. There's nothing to say - except that I feel just so goddamn lucky sometimes, to have escaped the worst of the vicissitudes of the mind. Long may this continue. And, of course, that I'm sad, and angry, and would wish it all undone, but that's not the way the world works.

More irritating ironies of the Alanis Morrisette variety

2007-10-12T18:01:00.001+13:00

Bless me for I have sinned - it's been four weeks since my last post and there's a lot to confess. Astute readers will have realised that I was most taken with the old friend that I wrote about in my past entry, and I'm sad and heartily delighted to confess that the days of the Grey Lynn Singles Club have once again ended, nearly as soon as they had begun.

I'm not quite prepared to describe all the ins and outs of finally getting into a relationship with someone who, it does appear, fully reciprocates my feelings. I've secreted a large swathe of bad poetry (some of which has potential), and experienced the highs and lows of coping with having the object of my obsession living a rather expensive plane-ride away. However I can offer some highlights - don't blame me if you end up puking from all the mushiness....

1) Booking a ticket to Wellington only to have him rock into town two weeks before the departure date and spend five days with me, including a weekend, because of being in Auckland to observe focus groups for work.

2) Doing a geographic from work and flying down to Wellington at short notice for 13.5 hours before flying up to face the music in what has been one of the busiest periods in my recent professional life.

3) Reading my poetry and listening to him read his over the phone.

4) Being told at regular intervals how fucking wonderful I am.

5) Returning the compliment.

6) The sex.

7) Wandering around a suburban supermarket in Wellington making jokes about mis-stacked food and personal hygiene items and labour relations while gazing moonily into each other's eyes.

8) Having a few wines and venting about work without feeling it was inappropriate or difficult.

9) Seeing the inside of his house - you can tell a lot about somebody from their house. His is filled with art and music.

10) An indefatiguable happiness soaking into everything.

The big question at the moment is when he'll be able to transfer up here. But I'll keep you posted. And if you want more details you can send me a comment, can't you??

Reality sets in

2007-09-17T20:08:00.003+12:00

Oh, what a weekend it's been. Although I have to say it's been a salutory experience - with my parents and an old friend of the male persuasion in town online dating has taken something of a backseat. It was Ponsonby and vodka on Friday night, closely followed by a trip to Waiheke with my dad, to meet a teacher of his that he hadn't seen in 50 years. I took a picture or three of them to send to the Southland Times and on the way home I talked with Daddums about Facebook and Peak Oil.

We agreed that cohorts don't really exist anymore - the idea of going to the same vocational course as a good proportion of people from your high school like Dad did would be very strange now - there are so many more options to navigate. And things like Facebook allow people to stay in touch in ways they couldn't before. Why wait 50 years to touch base? It's been something I've rather enjoyed of recent times, discovering people from the past I know who know each other in ways I never realised. How very New Zealand.

However I do sincerely fear that when peak oil hits the happy days of nice new computers and travel to the other side of the world will take a fairly severe hit, even if it isn't entirely permanent. I heartily recommend the doco Crude Awakening currently screening at Auckland's Academy Cinema. Basic premise: thanks to advanced industrial processes oil can be extracted insanely cheaply, we are almost wholly reliant on it for the energy required to transport anything, farm anything or manufacture anything and it's about to run out. Cue a vision of the world where we are earth-bound, hungry and gradually a lot less populous than before. And where our ICT dwindles in the face of the excessively high energy consumption required to develop and run it.

The optimists I know are convinced that technology will save us and they might be right, but it can't start doing that till it starts doing that and no one has begun the process yet.

On the dating front, my lack of a mate pales somewhat as an issue, but it's not something I'm ignoring. If you're wondering what happened re dates at the weekend, the first was interesting - a union researcher. We discussed logical positivism, peak oil (of course), post-structuralism and mental illness. He manged to plant one on me at the end of the date, on Queen St, in broad daylight no less, but I wouldn't rule him out entirely, except for a nagging feeling of "better as friends".

The second date was fine but not much in common and just not a terribly interesting conversation. A nice guy though. No surprises. Possibly what is surprising is that Mr not much chemistry has messaged me twice since last night, while Mr I'll try my luck hasn't messaged me at all. I'm never going to understand men. But then I'm prolly never going to understand myself either - possibly because of my predilection for touching base with Facebook friends, the person who most captured my attention this weekend was the boy from the past who I took out to Ponsonby for vodka. What a waste of perfectly good online potential. Still - there is something slightly irresistible about seeing someone for the first time in ages and realising that 1) they're hotter than before and 2) they're more like the guy you've always imagined yourself being with than most of the people you see daily. Can fix cars: check. Also knows what a codec is: check. Doesn't dress like someone from a magazine: check. Has a position on the political spectrum: check. Literate, literary and articulate: check. Makes stuff: check. And, when you text and say, "what's your landy, I feel like a chat", just calls your cellphone straight back. And, just to balance the whole mess out, lives in Wellington, has a disastrous track record with women and is sensibly suggesting he isn't ready for a relationship at this point in time. What would lassie do? Run home immediately, tail between legs, no doubt. Oh life is filled with amusing little ironies - of the Alanis Morrisette variety. I'm just a bogan chick with a degree secretly seeking a bogan boy with similar and it looks like a permanent malaise.

The week that was, part 1

2007-09-13T18:09:00.003+12:00

Oh - there's just not enough time for everything. The online dating story has been told and retold to various friends and family members and distilled down to a few funny lines, but I've been so busy replying to lots of dudes that it hasn't found its way to the blog. The first message was a penis, the first guy I messaged was someone I already know (hi Alan), two married farmers from the Waikato propositioned me (one sent a picture of a horse), I got asked to have sex "tonight", one roided-up Fijian guy with 20 red-eyed, muscle-bound profile pics decided we had lots on common even though I hate the things he loves - principly gaming and horror movies, an accountant and also a network cabler - neither of whom could write - tried to chat with me, three hot guys I messaged weren't having a bar of it, a really rather attractive musician did message me back but his grandmother died (or he was off-line for a week for some reason) and things didn't really take off after that, I had a coffee date cancelled twice at the last minute by a jazz drummer I really wanted to meet, I went for dinner with a Buddhist who has a philosophical attachment to open relationships and told him no when he asked to hold my hand and I made dates with a shy-sounding and highly educated cat owner and a nice, seemingly well-adjusted guy from Morrinsville (roll on Sunday). As the week wore on I found myself beginning to chat to guys who messaged me about the process of online dating which is a good way to establish something in common but a bad way to light the fire. It's been a crazy seven days, but now all the regulars have pawed my profile over once, the frenetic avalanche of messages has dwindled to something more manageable. And I'm regularly messaging (text, online chat and via the site) the two Sunday dates and the jazz musician, which is nice. Who knows what the weekend will bring!

It's raining men online

2007-09-08T11:12:00.001+12:00

I'm late to return a text message to a 39 year old PI guy who plays rugby so I can't linger - I already no there's nothing doing but I swear that most of the men messaging me look at the photo and that's it. Why am I texting him? Well - he wanted to switch out of an online environment and I decided it was boots and all so off I'm going to meet him somewhere as yet un-decided. However since I accepted an invitation to an upgraded dating membership on Tuesday many dudes have messaged me - and since I've been replying to nearly all of them, things are getting out of control. I haven't slept (or worked) enough this week and as the first Saturday rolls around I'm looking at a mounting pile of messages in the inbox and realising that I'll have to change my tactics quickly or there's going to be trouble - or more trouble than currently. I'm aiming to do a longer update on the week's online action later today - it's really been one of the most fascinating experiences..

The dating game begins in earnest

2007-09-02T20:21:00.001+12:00

Well - I've just tidied up my membership on an internet dating site which will, (for the sake of whatever privacy my internet presence still affords) remain nameless. I was immediately assailed with two messages, one accompanied by a picture of a shaved and erect cock (supported by a hand no less), and the other demanding a photo. Men are curiously visual creatures are they not??? I blocked the dick and I've got a pic up now, so await a response from its rather terse requester.

My next step was to browse through what amounts to a men-u or a kind of catalogue of blokes all lined up in photographic equivalents of their Sunday best. I got to a profile that really made me laugh - out loud - and was just in the process of sending a message to its owner when I realised I used to work with him. I sent the message anyway, after laughing some more. Yeah - internet dating is pretty silly. In my profile I did carp on about my ideal bloke having a sense of humour, but the experience did give me a moment's pause..this is a guy I found attractive to a point, but the collared shirts always put me off. Could there be hope for some kind of post-working liaison? I simply don't know. In the words of one of my current workmates (who is sensibly circumspect in the face of my craven requests for technical assistance) "we'll see".....

Various men-merits

2007-09-02T15:12:00.001+12:00

Friday night's encounter with the blue-collar artist's son did throw me into a pondery over desirable characteristics for future partners. Obviously there's got to be some adoration and attraction, but that in itself is made up of a a whole lot of subconscious cues about the type of qualities another person has, all fed through some sort of encultured filter. For example, tradesmen (a more Kiwi appellation for the Australian term "blue-collar" workers) are great potential partners - they've got money, they're smart, they're usually pretty fit, and they don't spend every single second they're not at work thinking about work. So far so good. But then, how would the average tradesman feel about women like myself with two degrees, a couple of jobs and regular stints in the office at the weekend? Add an unfortunate tendency to deploy items of lexicon that aren't in common usage while in conversation with new people and there are some obvious red flags for anyone with a pragmatic orientation to life. And then that nasty cliche of the working class man-alone, spending more time at the pub than at home raises its proverbial head, and I'm left thinking, yeah, well. Maybe not.

Playing statistics on this kind of thing is a mug's game - if my Ponsonby encounter reminded me of one thing, it's that people are always more than the sum of their culturally-coded parts. However the exigencies of dating, especially in a town the size of Auckland, mean that success in mating must most often go to people who are ruthless in their weeding of potential partners, right from the beginning. The blue-collar artist's son declined to take my number on Friday night, but I was happy with that honesty. No one wants to sit around with the sound of the phone not ringing in their ears. And in truth, he seems like a truly decent person (not so much the man-alone type at all) but I think we might have used up most of our conversation at the pub.

Single once more

2007-09-01T18:31:00.001+12:00

I started this blog about two years ago, and as the title suggests I was single. I stopped writing it around about the time that I got into a relationship, and haven't put finger to keyboard in service of it since. Now that I'm single once more I'm relaunching the whole schebang and also myself with the Simpson's avatar you may be able to see below, and with this post. My life is increasingly finding its way onto the net so I've vowed to try and keep my web-presence something a mother (and any future employers) could be proud of. There will be no detailed accounts of any sexual exploits showing up here. But being single and admittedly more than passingly interested in stumbling upon a potential mate is a solid element of where I and my blog are at. There's no denying it. I expect a few diatribes about sad middle-aged divorced dudes in bars on Ponsonby Road and a commentary on the various merits of nzdating.com vs findsomeone.co.nz might ensue.

The current Grey Lynn Singles' Club is a rundown two-bedroom flat in a dubious villa-conversion on Williamson Ave. We're just two single gals who work too much and party a little too hard at times and don't clean the bathroom nearly enough. Things are generally quieter and easier than the previous 5-bedroom version on Crummer Rd, although I do occasionally miss being dragged out to some unexpected film or party.

It's a shame I tend to find Ponsonby such a souless place to go out given the GLSC's proximity to it. On the bright side though, people are always surprising me. Enticed by my flatmate I WAS out in Ponsonby last night and I ended up meeting a nice man who turned out to be an airconditioning installer, with a full-sleeve tattoo, which is not how he presented at first, wearing a long-sleeved shirt and (I kid you not) a trilby. Turned out he was an Australian who'd worked in Invercargill for a few years and his dad is a quote unquote blue-collar sculptor. Great what you can learn if you keep asking questions....

Here's to meeting some more surprising people.

Delicious Simpsons Avatar!

2007-08-23T23:10:00.001+12:00

Guest DJ: Top three break-up songs

2005-12-03T14:15:00.001+13:00

A few blogs ago I asked how and why to establish a relationship. Now, watching someone close to me go through a painful dumping after 18 months of happiness makes me remember that, even at the best of times, intimacy is a dicey propostion. It's moments like this that the "how" of the question takes a back seat to the "why". They were really good together. But not anymore.

Before bitterness takes a backseat, and for your listening pleasure, my friend would like to share her top three songs to get through a break-up to:

It's Over
Bic Runga, Birds

The Scientist
Coldplay, Rush of blood to the Head

Lover, you should have come over
Jeff Buckley, Grace

None of the fun of the fair

2005-12-03T13:11:00.001+13:00

Here, for your edification is a piece I wrote last quarter for Take, the New Zealand Screen Director's Guild Magazine. For subscription details you can visit their site http://www.sdgnz.co.nz/take.asp. If you've got any tales of work done for free in New Zealand's film and television industry please email me. I'm writing an update to the article below after hearing reports of work being done for free on advertisements, which usually pay extremely well.

Emerging director Briar March’s office is neon-lit and carpeted in a tired shade of brown. At 3am and after an early start, she’s heading into the final stretch of preparation for the music video she’ll be directing the following day. Like a lot of directors Briar is a perfectionist, sensitive to the smallest detail in her films. Even working with a dedicated crew and producer, she won’t rest until every element in the video she’s planning is ready to be realised on screen. And, like many of the crew and production staff who make music videos, she won’t get paid for any of the time she spends, or the ideas that end up in the finished product.

It’s no breaking news that New Zealand film and television have small budgets. The current funding structure for shorts and music videos is taken for granted by the executive producer, production co-ordinator, director of photography, independent producer, two established directors and two emerging directors that Take spoke to for this article. They’re more interested in making moving images than in arguing with the status quo. Nevertheless, an inspection of free work in New Zealand’s film and television industry highlights some interesting contradictions.

Music videos and short films are common genres where directing is undertaken without payment, or for very little. According to Linda Halle, Adviser for the Screen Innovation Production Fund, short film funding is designed to cover production costs but not commercial wages for those who work on the film. The intention is to realise shorts that would otherwise never make it to the screen, either because of their experimental nature or the inexperience of the director. Arguably, short films tend to be formally innovative and artistically driven. They certainly exist independently of a broadcaster’s commission - distribution and finding an audience come later down the track.

Music videos, in contrast, are promotional as well as creative enterprises. Designed to showcase a song and the artist that performs it, they’re advertising an independent artist or a record company to a particular group of people. For some bands, New Zealand on Air provides $5000 of funding intended to be topped up by the artist’s label. Of course if the artist isn’t signed to a label, the video might be made for only that $5000, unless money comes from somewhere else, sometimes the artist and often the director. Bands who don’t qualify for government money sometimes self-fund their music videos which is good for their image. And directors know that the more money they invest in a video, the better it will look and the better their chances of getting work from it later.

Briar March, director of the digital documentary Allie Eagle and Me, has twice preferred to make a music video on film rather than being paid for her creative input. Amit Tripuraneni, director of the digital feature Memories of Tomorrow, has also made two music videos. When making the second he chose to take a minimal day rate and work on digital video, a medium he’s interested in exploring. Greg Page, Fish n clips directing veteran, has directed many music videos and he estimates about 90% were without pay. Both emerging directors are happy to get directing experience while Julian Boshier Knows that his free work on early Shihad and Head like a Hole music videos is what propelled him into directing videos with budgets supplemented by record company money.

Likewise Director of Photography Richard Harling believes that new directors working without pay on music videos are being served because music videos can become excellent "calling cards" and are a great experimental forum. Julian attempts to always pay his crew because he knows that he as director will get all the kudos if the video does well. Richard also points out that it’s very important for a musical artist to trust the vision of an credible director with a strong concept when that director works for free. Despite the promotional aspects of music video production, Julian, Greg, Amit and Briar have both exercised considerable artistic control over their music video directing. Briar believes this might be because they are working independently of a production company or large record label who therefore don’t exert control over the content of the music video. And the music artists working with all four directors have secured government funding or given their own money but been content to leave visual realisation with the director.

So music artists and emerging directors can benefit from the current system, getting to make and be seen in edgy, innovative material that can further the careers of both parties. Arguably the film and television industry also benefits because government funding and some money from the music industry is being made available to pay for goods and services in film and TV, particularly equipment hire and technical expertise.

However music videos are made on a wing and a prayer. Favours are called in, cheap deals are sought and as Kristian Eek, independent producer, points out, everyone on a crew, not just directors, puts their time and skills into projects for nothing or reduced rates. Even established music video production company Fish ‘n’ Clips must stretch their available budgets to get things on screen. According to Executive Producer James Moore, their policy is to try to get directors 10% of a total budget. However when the total budget is only $5000, this represents $500 for days of work. And, because it’s extremely difficult to get a music video on-screen for that amount of money, it’s not always possible to get a director the full 10%. While there are compensations for working like this, there are also drawbacks, and not just for emerging directors.

Music videos made for $5000 mean the music industry, including some of the world’s largest multi-national companies, gets edgy, original moving-image work for free. That work is paid for by the New Zealand government, obviously, but also indirectly by film and television and other industries. When independent directors make a video they often borrow equipment from schools or friends to off-set production costs. Money that would be used to pay for cameras, peripherals and editing is channelled into other areas of production, which takes it away from equipment hire companies. And Greg Page and Julian Boshier note that often when these companies are used to provide equipment for a shoot, they offer enormous reductions in hire costs just to support a creative enterprise and to garner goodwill from directors and producers who may one day go on to make more highly funded projects. However, more of an issue from a director’s perspective is the fact that emerging directors who work for free draw subsidies into music video production from a variety of other industries, including Film and Television.

No one that Take spoke to knew of anyone making a full living from music videos and anecdotal evidence indicates that many directors don’t stay working in the genre once they start to get work in television commercials. James Moore thinks this is because the money from TVCs is simply too good in comparison. Directors, with some exceptions, tend move on to greener financial pastures after cutting their creative teeth. This begs the question of how young directors support themselves while getting crucial early experience and how directors keep themselves in shoes if they continue with the genre. Briar March has worked short contracts as a director’s assistant at commercial production companies and is also on the PACE scheme provided by WINZ. Amit Tripuraneni is teaching at South Seas. Greg Page directs TVCs and Julian Boshier runs a camera hire business, while James Moore lived at home for the first year that he directed – having his rent and food provided subsidised his film and television work. All five have drawn or continue to draw money in wages or benefits from sectors outside the music industry to support themselves while making music videos. Because music video funding doesn’t pay what it costs to get a director on-set each day, fed, clothed and rested, the net effect is that directors subsidise the music industry by getting money to do this from other sectors.

All the directors that Take spoke to trained at educational institutions to get some of the skill-set they use when directing. When they choose to work for free in film and television they’re effectively paying twice to learn how to direct. Once in fees at film-school, and again by giving up their director’s fee for the productions they first work on. This is a far cry from the days when directors like Max Quinn at Natural History New Zealand were paid to train, and reflects the deregulated and unregulated state of film and television in New Zealand since the 1980s. Film-schools are the only parties consistently making money from this arrangement and in our small film and TV industry, the number of graduates produced each year means fierce competition with no guarantee for directors of anything except a sizeable student loan. This is not a job for the faint-hearted.

Julian Boshier feels that people emerging from film-school now have an extremely good attitude to the business, being willing to compete to get experience on-set and work their way into the roles they want. Every job is a chance to meet people and establish a working relationship that might generate a good deal or a paid job. However Julian is also quick to point out that this enthusiasm for unpaid work can wear very thin after someone gets established in the industry. For this reason, most established directors work commercially some of the time and creatively, for very little, some of the time. In some senses it could be argued that television commercials pay for music videos and shorts by subsidising directors’ incomes. Arguably the entire moving image industry in New Zealand is supported by the willingness of professionals in it, including emerging directors, to take a pay-cut in order to do something they believe in, supplemented by the only part of the film and TV industry that can afford to consistently pay commercial rates.

Emerging directors need to think about the knock-on outcomes of working for free in the context of an on-going involvement in the film and television industry. While directors don’t tend to stay making music videos because it’s so hard financially, music videos continue to get made because emerging directors want to get a foot in the door and will make what compromises the structure of the industry demands. By doing this they continue to indirectly subsidise music video production, including the government funding available, and a financially unsustainable production environment is able to stagger on. In addition, the large number of people paying to train and then working for free to make a “calling card” coupled with a tiny, government-subsidised industry means that even good moving-image work may not result in regular paid directing gigs, in spite of a sizeable student loan. However while it’s convenient and obvious to say that film-schools should be more regulated and that the film and television needs more funding, there are no easy answers. Film-schools themselves sustain a certain proportion of directors because they employ them as teachers. And in a situation where the market is too small to sustain an independent film industry or high-end music videos, increased funding must come from central government and this might impinge on the creative freedoms music video directors currently enjoy.

In a situation where every bit of the pie is pretty damn tiny, directors who want to keep working in New Zealand carry the burden of deciding what compromises they’re willing to make to get established and what consequences they’ll bear further down the track as a result. A solid standard of living that involves owning property isn’t on the cards. At this moment in New Zealand’s film and TV industry, you gotta feel the fear, ditch the mortgage and do it anyway.

Location location

2005-11-19T20:47:00.001+13:00

In new and other news, a location scout came to the door today wanting to take some piccies. He was enamoured of our close spatial relationship with the (hot, male, possibly gay and loud muscle-car owning) neighbours since the drama series he’s scouting for requires two villas in close proximity. Suddenly my flatmate (for the purposes of this blog) Jock’s intimate view of next door's bedroom is real estate gold. For $500/day we would get our fence knocked down and a carport built. The neighbours, for their pain, would have astro-turf laid over their backyard carpark. At the very least. I wonder what the landlord, well, property managers will say?

In all truth they probably won’t care – last week the (family of Samoan) neighbours on the other side laid a ladder up against the fence the Grey Lynn Singles Club and gaily started constructing a tree-house at eye-level *in our tree*. Our tree. After ringing the propety manager I was assured that as the occupants of the Grey Lynn Singles Club we’re the ones who get to say yea or nay to any extra activity on the property. Armed with this knowledge I slunk next door with (lets call him) Hank to complain and inquire why they hadn’t asked our permission before extending their boundary rights over the fence. It transpired that the man of the house had, in fact, asked our old flatmate “Anna” just before she vacated the premises 6 months ago. How gaily she must have replied in the affirmative before galloping into the sunset. I was mollified by this piece of information however. When the neighbour told us he remembered when the tree in question was planted, 38 years ago, I decided he had some customary rights owing. So now we have a tree-house. And lovely neighbours. Tonight they came over with a huge yummy plate of barbecue food. I'm planning on making a christmas cake to return the hospitality. Most excellent.

Four reasons to be a groupie

2005-11-19T18:27:00.001+13:00

All’s quiet on the romance-research front. I’ve just started one of two new jobs and both are excessively populated by women. In one I find myself ghettoised into a corner, surrounded by girls who shop. They seem nice and certainly efficient, but sadly foreign. And certainly very female. However, there are alternative solutions to the man-drought than screwing the crew…. I hasten to add that this blog is unrelated to any *recent* activity on my part…..

I never used to “get” groupies – why enter into a completely lop-sided and exclusively physical arrangement with someone just because of what they do? But as time has passed I’ve had to acknowledge that lots of women, and frankly, men as well, are irresistibly drawn to a public expression of skill. Indeed I’ve been guilty of this myself on a number of occasions. So rather than get into a moralising or feminist argument against, I’ve started thinking about why.

I strongly suspect the cult of personality in which that elusive 15 minutes of fame are tantalisingly within almost-reach have contributed. You can’t have the fame but you can have the famous. Bonking someone with skills and talents that you will never possess is a way of owning those skills and talents, if only for a moment. And in a the context of a hyper-real universe (read “the internet”), stimulation seeking and flexible and self-invented identities are normal. When you’re a groupie you can try on someone else’s success and skill by proxy, just like you can be anyone you want to be in a chatroom.

In defence of casual sex with famous people it must be said that Paris Hilton is hardly a girl who deserves a discerning groupie. Back in the 70s when they were mostly female and orally or otherwise attached to the dicks of bands like Led Zep, groupies were drawn to skill at something new, exciting and avant garde. Simply being famous was not enough. So while being a groupie is a little like letting the whole world’s selfish gene vote on who’s got the best genetic material, it’s also a more discerning process involving taste for a particular (musical or other) aesthetic. And in a cyber-world, suddenly poets, journalists, and geeky film-makers who get on the next big wave can add their imprints to those of the girly- and not-so- musicians who never used to attract a smile either.

And yes, yes being a groupie is hardly a recommended activity for getting a long-term gig with a significant other. But this is all about the alternatives, isn’t it? Given that most people’s object of choice is unlikely to share their interests or perspectives it I say they’d be wise to take what they can get and leave the rest. Or just lie back and think of Cynthia (http://www.cynthiaplastercaster.com/flash/home.html - be aware this site features flying penises…. Or try http://sobs.org/chilocal/plastercaster/plastermain.html).

But for those with more refined or eclectic taste in achievement:

Richard Reeve

Kelly Pendergrast

John White

Renee-Louise Carafice

Oh I've got a plan

2005-11-01T21:57:00.001+13:00

Well the two of you who read this blog may be relieved or disappointed to know that there was no retaliative pranking after my last post. I certainly was. This post brings contemplations on the state of being single in Grey Lynn that have nothing to do with living with three men. But who knows what the future will bring??

According to recent reports in scar-mongering publications like TVNZ’s recent article on the man-drought in the 30-34 demographic thanks to able-bodied blokes fleeing a recessional New Zealand after finishing university in the mid-90s. The implication is that single 30-something women in urban areas are now in a disadvantageous position when looking for love (or whatever). However the man-drought is hardly news. At my late stage in single life (a creaking, disgruntled 30), anyone my own age without a partner usually has qualities that make them somewhat undesirable as an intimate companion. (Sadly I suppose that theoretically includes me as well - certainly those looking for a sugar-mummy should try elsewhere.) I’m not sure having a smaller pool of strange, hairy or impoverished men to choose from really makes much difference to the average single 30-something woman. There are a variety of work-arounds of course – go younger, older, foreign - mail-order perhaps – but the age-old problem remains. Why and how would you attach yourself permanently to someone who isn’t a total knob-end?

Now that everyone takes women’s independence for granted, why to attach oneself to a man has become a vexed question and open for much heated debate. While I’ve made some ghastly errors in judgement when it comes to (alcoholic, workaholic, mentally ill, irritatingly jealous) partners, I must say I’ve never really had the urge to marry them. In spite of the life-stage-retarded implications of living in the Grey Lynn Singles Club I rather like my whimsical life-style of random parties, chats on the deck and the ogling of hot-bodied men bought into the house by various flatmates. What compensations could possibly draw me towards a more mundane domestic existence with someone strange and hairy? Desire for children – check. Desire for stability and emotional connection – check. Late-onset maturity and wanting to be a “real woman” – not as yet. Financial security – I wish. Ditto regular sex of course but after reflecting on the ghastly errors in judgement detailed above, I’ve decided to live without in the meantime. There are a myriad of social, psychological and biological reasons for getting attached to a man - the zen of it really comes when contemplating the “how” which is where Carrie Bradshaw made her money and why the demographers are getting all excited about a reduced pool of 30-something men.

Obviously I’m not really in a position to offer advice on getting a guy, given my ghastly errors list. I don’t really get the dating scene in Auckland, having moved here (as all two of you know) from Southland via Dunedin. I’m taking this opportunity to announce, however, a series (we’ll see how long this goes) of VERY SERIOUS blogs on how to get some in Auckland. The research will be EXHAUSTIVE. If there’s a way I’ll find it. And you shall know all about it.

Standby evils

2005-08-13T01:45:00.001+12:00

Yep it's official. I'm officially disillusioned with my own abilities. Tonight I watched two of the three male members of the Grey Lynn Singles Club inscribe a "cock 'n' balls" and the word "dork" onto the defenceless, jo-ed out face of the third male member. I did nothing to stop this process. I am to the inscribers what the nazis were to Hitler. And now a blinding, puking hangover for Mr Penis Face and a week of retributive pranking amongst all the boys are both in the mail. I'm gunna tell all. And keep my bedroom door locked.

2005-07-17T22:19:00.001+12:00

It’s more than a week since my last post, which was a cheat anyway, designed to get some content up without further thought on my part. I suppose, therefore, this is the inaugural post proper. A week has given me some time to think about what this blog is really all about, and sadly I’m as uncommitted to any one approach or topic as I’ve ever been. There’s far too much to think about, in far too many different ways, and that’s just how it’s going to be. If I was reading this, I’d expect to get some gender politics, although no one does it quite like Zoe and Cleo, some current affairs commentary a la Public Address and Fighting Talk, and a very little bit on culture and difference but ,Tze Ming Mok has that all stitched up really. There might be an element of self revelation and Hubris, but I’m trying to restrain myself since this is supposed to be a public forum. There might be some meta-narrative posts on what this blog is all about, but I’m hoping not too many. And none of this will come to pass if I don’t figure out how to do hyper-links. My level of technological literacy is rather embarrassing so why am I even making the attempt?

It seems to me that blogging is generally a way that people respond to the world while simultaneously constructing themselves. This recursive process of looking at the “the outside” and having an opinion about it and how it relates to who you think you are, is probably something that everyone does (depending very much on your philosophical point of view). Bloggers do it in writing and on line, and their reference points are often online as well. I’m not sure where my reference points are really, so I expect that starting a blog is a way of discovering that, and making myself up at the same time.

This notion of self-construction popped up in a vaguely related way when I read ,Tze Ming Mok’s post about the British bombings and how they were done by second generation British Muslims. Without, of course, having any significant knowledge about the situations of the men who chose to blow themselves up, it did strike me that people seek to fit in and give themselves meaning in any way they can. If you’re feeling alienated from the culture in which you live, it seems reasonable to look for an alternative position that validates who you conceive yourself to be. Granted, not everyone is going to choose what mainstream media like to call an “extremist” position, but in clubs, pubs, paddocks and halls across the west people are creating little like-minded communities of dancers, talkers, runners, drinkers, card-players and whatever-elsers. And there are lots of ex-patriot community groups too. We wouldn’t want or need to do this if we all still lived in teeny groups (villages, walled cities, hunter-gatherer and wandering pastoralist communities – pick a time, pick a country) in which everyone knows each other and there is less movement of people and information. But here we are – global village, plus a big history of colonisation and all of its (justifiably) malcontented. At this point in history, we’re moving around and being exposed to difference and differences inside complex societies in ways that never happened before. Creating and holding onto an identity that has meaning and appears stable over time is kind of crucial to coping with this. Maybe for the bombers, being able to give their lives validation in the company of like-minded people, to finally fit in somewhere, was too good to miss. A particularly sensitive rendition of this appeared in Britain's Sunday Times.

2005-07-07T18:07:00.001+12:00

For my first post I thought I'd cheat, because why not get more mileage than you deserve? This appeared in the male objectification issue of Craccum (Issue 3 14 March 2005).

The Crux of It
I launched into tertiary study in the skody days of grunge. It was all Sub Pop, drooping Goths and holey jerseys. I therefore remember orientation before it became a seething mass of commercialism; before multi-nationals started competing relentlessly for brand-recognition in first-years’ minds as well as the biggest possible slice of their course-related costs. I’m so old I almost remember what it was like before blokes became print-ad sex-objects and my friends started buying farcical posters of semi-naked men grasping babies. Almost – but sadly not quite.

Sociologists have identified that men are becoming more sexualized and objectified in advertising. Traditionally it was women who were constructed in ads as something a reader could have if they (he) bought a particular product. This construction became more complex when the second wave of feminism struck and women had significant disposable income. Advertisers found they could attract female consumers by commodifying the message of feminism. In other words advertising tried to suggest to women that they could experience freedom not through activism but by purchasing products like cigarettes or beauty products to “please” themselves. Ads implied readers could be like the woman in the picture if they just forked out for the product.

In 1969, the Stonewall Riots in New York, a sustained melee between cops busting in a gay bar and the queens inside who were none too happy, caused a liberation in attitudes towards homosexuality. This caused a spill-over into the world of advertising. Product managers recognized increasingly liberated gay men as a significant consumer group for the first time. Suddenly the male body became something that could be offered as part of a product package. Print ads featured gorgeous men and created myths, suggesting to gay readers that if they bought a particular product they could get the body, the life-style or even a man like the one in the ad. Think Calvin Klein’s “Obsession” series. Never before had so many abs been seen in one place at one time.

Of course ads targeting only gay men are rare outside of the gay press because the heterosexual majority of readers tend to find a gay narrative a bit, well, alienating. So typically the male body is objectified in advertising so it can be interpreted as either heterosexual or homosexual by both male and female readers. He’s there, he’s cut and he’s looking at you. You can either imagine “having” him or “being” him depending on your gender and orientation. I’ve asked a non-representative sample of female friends about the whole male sex-object phenomenon. They agreed that if an attractive image of man is presented to them they’re going to enjoy it. “Why not?” said one “Everyone looks at each other all the time anyway”.

Unsurprisingly then, two studies have shown that gay and straight men are becoming more concerned about body-image. Researchers are speculating that greater numbers of perfect-looking male bodies in the media are linked to increased eating disorders and body dysmorphia in both groups. It’s tempting to see this as a sort of nasty tit-for-tat. Women have been objectified for ages and now boys it’s your turn for over-exercise, neurosis about butt-fat and endless spending on appearance and grooming products and/or surgery. Plus women now get to ogle and judge your appearance just as we have been ogled and judged. However I’m electing to restrain my natural urges to revenge and voyeurism and would like to suggest two arguments against the celebration of male objectification.

First up I’m against male objectification because I’m tired of female objectification, and it’s just not nice to be a hypocrite. My most hated example, one that gets me ranting with little invitation, is the latest TV ad from Tui, the one with the gorgeous women in various sates of undress running the brewery. Sexist and unfunny - best of both worlds. Yeah right. I’ve got a litany of unfavourite female advertising “objects” ranging from vodafone’s black cartoon character “Booty”(!?) used in a txt promotion several years ago, to the Jim Beam Girls and their calendar signing escapades at Shadows. In this there are elements of women’s choice of course and I’m absolutely not criticizing the calendar girls personally. However there’s always a certain amount of painful irony in hearing ugly spotty guys bag the crap out of physically perfect promotions girls whilst simultaneously calling them sluts.

And finally, anything that creates cash for large companies by increasing pressure to buy products that are patently unnecessary isn’t high on my list of must-haves. I’d just occasionally like to be addressed by the mass-media, or even ranting student-card hawkers, as a citizen instead of a consumption unit that can be potentially manipulated into a purchase. Grunge is dead. Long live the Goths.