Sunday, 12 July 2009

On Being a Man




I have been reflecting in the last few of days on what it means to be a man. One might just as well ask what it means to be human in that the basic existential dilemmas of our existence are not a gender-specific affair. However - and in spite of the further complexities related to one's location in a culture (or a time and place) - there are in many ways a specific experience of manhood.

Of course, there is no one manhood any more than there is any one man. Even within a culture and a time and place any individual responds differently to the same biological and cultural cues and stimuli. What makes one man a leader, one a follower, one a romantic or one a sexist - these are qualities partially of biology, partially of culture and (significantly for my interpretation) largely of choice.



Consider the fictional narrative of Billy Elliot: a young boy in a rough and tumble mining town who's dream to become a ballet dancer is offset against the stark machismo of his culture and environment. That he finally succeeds is a marvel and the popular success of this movie may be due to the fact that at least half the viewing population can identify with one person's achievement against the expectations and pressures of their peers, family and environment. The success of this film is, in this regard, at least partially attributable to the degree to which people can perceive the success of one person in "swimming against the stream" and finding their own way in spite of external influences and pressures. This is what most people would want to do but few can and in the end - being able to do your own thing, being able to choose your own path is more what being a man is about than many of the clichés we may absorb through our media, culture and society.



Manhood as strong, virile and tough - this is perhaps nowhere more closely approximated in popular culture than the image of John Rambo. Ruthlessly (and thoughtlessly) hammering away at his enemies until he is the one man left standing, albeit in a pool of blood. How much closer could we approximate to the alpha-male to which many male competitive sporting heroes approximate, at least as an ideal. That this ideal is a psychotic caricature is of no real consequence to the cultural power of the image - it is a template upon which dozens of action stars and other role-models for young boys are based. Rambo, however, is an automaton - he is ultimately a soldier following orders or otherwise following a predetermined tragic path and displaying no more sense of free will than that of choosing which ammunition to hurl at his foes. His victories are empty of choice, self-determination and self-identity. He is the hero for the man/boy who chooses to assimilate the stereotype of who he should be and unquestioningly follow another's choice into the gates of hell.

I contend that "being a man" is all about making your own choices and when necessary going against the flow of popular opinion. It is the hardest thing to do sometimes, to think and act for yourself. It is also the most important thing we may do in terms of self-realisation and self-determination. Strength comes through willpower and the will which is strong does not follow the crowd and in many cases stands against it.




Thursday, 9 July 2009

Urban Dreams




I work in a supermarket. I am grateful that I have a job but I really do feel a little like this should not be a long-term career path for me. It is work, good honest work, but it is also really very boring and for the most part totally uninspiring.

My working moments are measured in tins and cans, flour and coffee. I trudge around redirecting errant customers to their destination. The same satellite-beamed music plays day in and day out; my love for the music of Bob Marley (among others) is being sorely tested.

I am working to support my family. I have a (first) baby on the way and I find that it is something of a major shock requiring massive degrees of maturity and a responsibility of which I have managed to be heretofore untainted.

Being that this is the first deep and significant interpersonal relationship that I have ever been engaged in, I find that I have had to begin to force many changes in my experience and thought patterns of the world. For instance, it is no longer possible to freely lust after every single attractive and potentially fertile woman who crosses my path. It is something of a biological imperative that a man will find just about any female of child-bearing age to be worthy (even in a passing fantasy) of a good baby-making boink. When one settles into a serious relationship it becomes necessary to develop strategies to hoodwink these uncontrolled libidinal drives into passive submission. It is not necessarily always successful and every now and then a wild and sexually charged image of, for instance, a vernal supermarket customer may spontaneously arise from one's unconscious realms.



Even these rare moments of improbable fantasy are generally subdued by the pure mundanity of the context of my employment. Hooded eyes and whining children, empty cardboard boxes and colleague's workplace tantrums, elderly dawdlers and toddler sprinters. I never thought I would end up working in a supermarket. If I hear the company jingle played one more time over the internal store announcement system I fear I should have to enter into therapy. Here I am, in spite of all my wildest dreams and aspirations, just another working stiff.




Tuesday, 7 July 2009

Dreams in a Bathtub




Lying in the bath tonight after a stressful day at home and work, I let the soft womb of the water soothe me gently. I feel that this caressing heat must be akin to the amniotic warmth of a religious faith; a faith I can only imagine what it is to possess.

Dreams, or rather flashes, montages and memories or vague half-thought creations bubble into my consciousness when my eyes are closed and my body warm like this, securely shrouded from the winter evening outside. A vision of standing on a small line of hills that lies between a desert and a coast comes to me. There is something of a majesty to these small hills, something hinting at the vast grandeur they may once have displayed in deep geological time.

The wind is blowing, unseasonally, from the hot and dry interior. I imagine basalt cliffs below me and the elegant architecture of their cut and thrust, their curvature and shadow makes me think of the dance of a bullfighter, of his purling cape and the impetuous strain of the doomed beast. Slender rays of light pierce like swords in the last vestiges of late afternoon sunlight across the horizon and it's distant and heavy darkling clouds.

Yet this is just a bath, a dream, and the errant stress and duress of my life is still waiting for me when I open my eyes again.


Monday, 6 July 2009

Dreams




I closed my eyes. A thousand years flowed over me in flashes and sparkling revolution, evolution and the memories of a living culture and of a million million souls. Buildings rose and nations fell; cities ran wild and rivers ran deep; an icy blast of chilling wind over a shimmering, searing desert.

Opening my eyes I found that I was was still alone and lying there in the warm water of a winter's morning bath. Time out of mind; eternity in an hour.


Monday, 29 June 2009

Arthur Kade: Wanker of the Decade


Arthur Kade. Unintelligent man, egocentric pervert, ugly knob and utter joke - he has to be in the running for Wanker of the Decade. His blog arthurkade.com describes his "journey to stardom". What a fuckwit.


This is he:



How much this image (or the fact that he placed it on his blog) says about his "journey to stardom" leaves us only to marvel.

Some our boy Arthur's pearls of wisdom from his blog:

Quote:
Top Ten Quotes and Moments of the Night:
1) Some fat 5 asked me to give her a “Kade Out” near the bathroom, and I was so irritated because I needed to pee, and she had no right to talk to me anyway.

2) A guy stopped me at Dusk and said “I just wanted to tell you I am a huge fan. 70% of my bank reads your blog”. I asked him where he worked and he said Merrill Lynch, and I joked back, “I guess I know now why we are in a recession”.
3) A 6 came up to me at The Chelsea and said “You aren’t really who you portray on the Internet?”, and I responded “Why are you talking to me?”, and blew her off. I guess I answered that question.

4) A slightly overweight 6, with bad hair, came up to me and said ‘We’re not 6’s, 7’s or 8’s, so i guess we can’t hang out with you”, and I responded “Your Bad”, and kept walking.
5) Dan Gross (Philadelphia Daily News) asked me to rate his wife, and then got scared when she asked me not to, although I rated other girls there for them.

6) A fan stopped me going to the bathroom, and said “What do you think of this place (Dusk), is it Kade Style?”
7) 3 Girls would not take their picture with me because they were afraid to get ridiculed on the Blog. Losers

I ran into a girl who was a super sexy 9 ( I randomly got her number In South Beach in February), and I found out she was coincidentally the sister of a friend from Philly who she was there with. The world is way too small.

9) People drove by outside of Caesars, and screamed out of the car, “Kade!!!”.
10) A group of 5’s and 6’s recognized me, at The Chelsea and kept pointing, galking, and talking. It must suck to be a nobody.

Ahhh and how it does suck to be a nobody and not a first-class asshole like Arthur.

LOL


Sunday, 28 June 2009

Stupid Tattoos


Vanity:






Didn't know when to stop:




Shouldn't have got this one of a celebrity pervert:




Won't be invited to the Pentecostal church meetings anymore:




Nice breasts, shame about the artwork:




Self-esteem problems ? Try one of these:
(notice the spelling)




Here's some ridiculous or completely inexplicable tattoos. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder - and these just ain't beautiful.


Friday, 26 June 2009

Iran - Islamic State or Totalitarian Dictatorship ?




Iran had a revolution against the tyranny of the Shah. Now they need a revolution against the tyranny of the State. With what has been going on just recently, the old guard should realise that the seeds of change have well and truly been sown and, indeed, they have been watered with the blood of the people of that nation.




Neda, the beautiful young woman gunned down by a sniper's bullet, is and will continue to be a martyr for freedom in that country for a long, long time. I hope for peace and freedom for Iran.


Saturday, 20 June 2009

Epic Fail: America's Army 3




Well, most of the thinking public should be very well aware that war is a hell of a bad thing. In many ways it is the conglomeration of everything bad and evil that humanity is capable of. Unfortunately, war seems to be a necessary evil in so many ways. The notion of a "just war" is a tricky one and one whose ethical and humanitarian intricacies are well beyond the survey of my current topic.

I am an avid gamer. I am aware that war-games are not in any manner actually significant representations of war or soldiery, despite many of their publisher's and publicist's claims. There is a certain collegiate or fraternal sense of belonging to a squad or a team in a battle for an objective but it is really an empty representation in so many ways as war itself carries the potential price of one's own life, one's friend's lives and in the worst case scenarios - the lives of everyone someone cares about and possibly their very way of life as well.

In the virtual reality of online gaming wars I have been an enthusiastic member of the Project Reality community here in Australia. I was reading some commentary on the Australian PR community's forums about America's Army which has just released version 3. As it it turns out it is a somewhat rushed and bodgy version of the game. The production team was shafted by middle and upper management and this letter from an ex-developer (of the now defunct production house making the product) appeared on the official game forums:


I worked as a Dev at AA Emeryville for the last year and a half and I hope I can appeal to your rationality and common sense. I would like you to imagine trying to build a game with an impossible deadline, steadily declining workforce (via firings), A hiring freeze, constantly being fed misinformation, having the "higher ups" completely ignore your weekly plea for either A) more time, or B) more manpower, working a ton of unpaid overtime, pouring your heart and soul into a misadventure only to have the uniformed community scoff at you for uncontrollable variables..... RIGHT when you've just lost your job.

There are problems with the release beyond the devs control. In fact, the bureaucracy is so convoluted that you can't even begin to imagine the breadth and scope of B.S. the devs had to deal with daily. in short, imagine being the subcontractor of a subcontractor of a contractor to the government. Sure Millions of dollars may have been poured into this project, but how much do you think made it to the actual DEV team, the people MAKING the game, after it was filtered by the bureaucracy?

I realize if you are a gamer, you rightly expect a game to work. period. But I would ask that you imagine for a second that you actually DON'T understand what it takes to make this particular game, and you really don't understand the many obstacles that were placed in front of the Devs... in nerdy terms: A Kobiyashi maru.

What I would like you to understand is that the Devs did everything they could, worked a TON of unpaid overtime, put their time and passion into an un-winnable situation, and were effectively stabbed in the back. Many of these guys are my close friends, they have family to take care of, and overpriced rent to deal with. They just came off busting their butts for months, to be let go, without warning. Perhaps a little empathy is in order here.

Almost every multiplayer online game has problems upon release. These problems become exaggerated when a development team is kept in constant turmoil and paranoia via misinformation and a high rate of employee turnover. When the people you trust around you are being let go, it becomes difficult to emotionally invest yourself in the titanic sinking ship. Nonetheless, I can tell you the Devs STILL pushed themselves as hard as they could.

Furthermore, the problem with the game at this point, has everything to do with the authentication servers being slammed, A.K.A not a controllable variable by the Devs. Sure there are bugs, they WERE being fixed, and now you'll be lucky to see any fixes in the near future.

For those of you who think Redstone arsenal will do a better job, well.... I won't have to tell you that you're sadly mistaken because you'll see for yourself.

I'm not sure why i've felt compelled to write this when I'm sure it will get deleted, or even scoffed at further, but I hoped to let the fans know that we tried as hard as we could and are very bummed to see the fruits of our labor shoved at gamers like a heaping pile of crap.


(Of course, this letter was also removed toot-sweet by forum moderation.)

If you read that you can perhaps see that the very military bureaucracy which has fluffed this project has unwittingly self-represented itself and it's internal administrative errors and inconsistencies to the world - perhaps backfiring any effective use as a recruiting tool of this product for a thinking audience.

Of course a lot of people just don't think and it would appear that this kind of personified intellectual vacuum may be an ideal recruit for America's Army. They could do a better job. In every sense.



Monday, 15 June 2009

Yebbeda Yebbeda: Swine Flu Revisited




I imagine that there may be those amongst us who feel that the time has come to follow certain semitic religions (Islam, Judaism) and totally ban pork from our forks. I say - NO ! - let's get even and eat as many of the bastards as we can.


Film Review: Joan of Arc




Joan of Arc (1999) is a fine historical drama directed (as ever) superbly by Luc Besson.


A colourful, occasionally humorous and violent saga it skilfully portrays the era and corruption(s) of the state and church of the time. Mila Jovovich as Joan is well-cast but am I the only one who constantly feels that in her teary-eyed moments as Joan she is about to say "big bada-boom" ? Dusting Hoffman as the spiritual intermediary is an interesting embodiment of Joan's conscience and self-doubt as she is wrongfully tried for heresy. Joan was made a saint 500 years later by the very same Church that had her burnt at the stake for (largely) political reasons.




3 and a half smoking martyrs out of five for an interesting, exciting and thought-provoking rendition of the life of one of history's great women. Joan was 19 when she was martyred. One can only wonder if her legend has become so much more because of this early death ? It's not a film for those who don't like a little historically accurate blood and guts in their period-dramas. A chick flick for a proto-feminist with a Catholic guilt complex.





Saturday, 13 June 2009

Film Review: What Becomes of the Broken Hearted ?




What Becomes of the Broken Hearted ? is the sequel to Once Were Warriors.

It is a portrayal (as was the first) of a gritty, violent, machismo-laden contemporary urban Maori culture of gangs, drinking and violence.

It wasn't particularly impressive in narrative, cinematography or direction. The acting was adequate but what little the story consisted of - the death of the main character's son in a gang brawl and the ensuing (predictable) consequences - ultimately merely portrayed a lot of stupid people performing largely stupid acts. That the father (the main character: "Jake") might be shown to have woken up (ever so slightly) to his degenerate alcoholic wife-beating ways is a good thing - but the whole film is just really a film in search of a good story. Perhaps it was the film direction (albeit competent) which bombed it for me but there was certainly something missing, perhaps a plot of sufficient depth and complexity to engage me (or any thoughtful viewer). There is an attempt to portray contemporary Maori's as hard-working which is highly commendable and undoubtedly represents a realistic counterpoint to the drinking wastrels otherwise depicted. Issues of the realism of cultural representation and the subsequent interpretations people make of that culture arise here for me. If, for instance, films about African Americans were largely about South Central L.A. and the attendant desperation of elements of that community, people elsewhere may upon seeing this media believe that this is all there is to that culture. Representing African American professors, poets and artists, lawyers and doctors broadens the canvas a little and makes our interpretation more realistic from afar, as it is (for me). However, "What Becomes of the Broken Hearted ?" only portrays a quite shallow and crass interpretation of a rich and beautiful Polynesian culture as it survives and adapts to the modern world around it in contemporary New Zealand.

Why the bald-headed and swastika-foreheaded gangster/bikie decides to hit his boss with a metal pipe and save the main character Jake and his son at the end of the film is a mystery which will stay with me about as long as my morning coffee.

1 and a half pointless and stupid violent Maori clichés out of 5 for a sometimes brutal representation of the futility experienced by many in a colonially deflowered (and yet still surviving) indigenous Polynesian culture. A good movie to watch if you are not really paying attention.


Friday, 12 June 2009

Film Review: The Deer Hunter




The Deer Hunter.

I watched this last night.

A very good film. 5 empty pistol chambers out of six for a thoughtful, emotionally-damaged and violent insight into how war and capture can change a bunch of regular guys.

It adds a twist to Russian Roulette; an interesting connection to the Russian-American ethnicity of some of the characters...

3 hours long - mateship seems to be the main theme here.

I highly recommend this film - it's not a regular war-movie and it's Vietnam war reflections are dark indeed. It won 5 Oscars (including Best Picture) in 1978.


Tuesday, 9 June 2009

Film Review: Across the Universe




I enjoyed this... it's a musical... with Beatle's songs performed
by other artists. No surprise that one of the main characters looks like a young Paul McCartney, then...

3 and a half bruised hippy ex-vietnam vet acid-head artist pothead musos out of 5 for an entertaining and thoughtful musical experiment...

p.s. I loved the soundtrack and keep an eye out for Joe Cocker and Bono...