True Democracy: Let’s pick our next Prime Minister

Er… slightly worried about the election next week, especially given results of last UK election. Choice seems to have been: smug Tory nobody particularly wanted, or boring, squishy Scot nobody particularly wanted*. Similarly, Australia’s current choice seems to be: creepy, completely unfunny, old-fashioned, slightly mental supercatholic or Australia’s first female Prime Minister, whom people unfortunately perceive to be a bit of a two-faced bizatch** for her mutiny of our dear K-Rudd.

So I was thinking, perhaps for next week’s Australian federal election, in the spirit of true democracy, we could all nominate whomever we please to be our Prime Minister, and then choose between the people who get the most nominations. That seems a far fairer and more democratic process than being presented with only two people to choose from, especially when they’re both politicians. Honestly, who really wants a politician running the country?

Here are my nominations:

John FarnhamJohn Farnham

“What about the aaaage… of ree-hee-eeason?”

When the world is in crisis, when the threat of terrorism lurks ever nearer our shores, when the economy is fucked and we’re all floundering helplessly in a sinkhole of credit card debt and unemployment (we’re not really though)… what we need is a leader with a three-octave range who can belt out a high F.

John from Play School

“Tutti Frutti, oh Rudy…” I really used to love John when I was a kid. He had a very reassuring, grandfatherly sort of presence, and yet he was wildly funny (to four-year-old me, at least) and wasn’t above playing with rag dolls or making sailboats out of toilet roll holders. That’s the kind of down-home DIY ingenuity this country needs. I also quite liked Philip (Quast, who went on to be a super huge West End star, playing Javert in Les Miserables) and Benita. And Noni Hazlehurst. Look, I think anyone from Play School would do a great job.

Margaret Pomeranz and David StrattonDavid & Margaret from The Movie Show

You couldn’t separate these two, because I think they only really work as a double act. David would be the deputy, obviously, because Margaret’s a bit more hip and down with the kids. And, you know… awesome earrings.

David Tennant Doctor Who

Doctor Who

Yes, I know he’s British. Yes, I know he’s a 907-year-old timelord. Yes, I know he’s fictional. Still a better candidate than Tony Abbott.

(Also, yes… this was just an excuse to post an image of David tennant on my blog. *swoon*)

Alf StewartAlf Stewart

Stone the flamin’ crows! As Kevin “Fair Shake of the Sauce Bottle” Rudd has shown us, every Prime Minister needs a catchphrase or two. Get off the grass. Don’t come the raw prawn with me. Etc.

John JarrattJohn Jarratt

Nobody – and I mean NOBODY – is going to fuck with a country whose leader is that guy from Wolf Creek.

I’m painfully aware there is a severe shortage of female candidates listed here. Sorry. Post ‘em if you’ve got ‘em.

*Sorry, Mr Brown. I actually quite liked you. If I were a UK citizen, you’d have had my vote. Although I think I’d vote for a jacket potato if it had a Scottish accent.

** I actually quite like Julia Gillard also (and will be voting Labour), I’m just a bit bummed out that our first ever female PM was sort unceremoniously dumped on us overnight, depriving us all of the opportunity to rally behind a decent female candidate and feel some sense of communal ownership of this big, historic moment for our country. Where’s our Obama moment, Julia? WHERE IS IT?!

Why I don’t think Twilight is like OMG so cool

Twilight books

I know I’m a bit late to the party on this one. That’s because I’ve been trying to hold in the frustration. Can’t.

First of all, let me start by listing the NON-REASONS, just to fend off any foreseeable accusations from squealing fangirls.

1. It’s NOT because I haven’t read the books and am criticising something I’m not even familiar with, like print journalists who moan about Twitter when it’s quite obvious they’ve never used it, are only abstractly familiar with the world of the interwebz and still file their pieces on slate tablet.

I have actually read Twilight, New Moon and Eclipse. After glowing reviews from friends and strangers, I bought all three of them at once to read on a 28-hour flight from London to Brisbane. I didn’t read Breaking Dawn, because judging by what I could glean from the army of 14-year-old girls who apparently ALL have their own channels on YouTube, Breaking Dawn was a whopping great disappointment to even the most hardcore Twilight fans.

That’s right, according to some people the last Twilight book was just TOO crap. (In my view this is akin to saying the latest episode of Lost is just TOO cryptic, the latest Marian Keyes book is just TOO female-centric, the latest Paris Hilton reality series/album/cosmetics line/cameo film appearance smacks just TOO much of her desperation to find a market in which people will finally see her as more than an embarrassing waste of the planet’s dwindling resources… and so forth.)

In the interest of total fairness, I probably will read Breaking Dawn at some point, but it’s something I’m going to have to work myself up to, like an MMR needle or the apocalypse.

2. It’s NOT because I am just a hater. I’m not. I’m a lover. See these insanely gushy blog posts: here, here, here, here and here.

(In fact, it actually pains me to write a diatribe about the lovingly crafted wordbaby of a hard-working author – especially a YA author, because I think it’s bloody marvellous that YA fiction is such a pumping genre these days. I love that it’s being taken seriously, and I love that kids and teenagers are reading perhaps more than they ever have, what with Harry Potter and Twilight and Zac Efron having a Twitter account and everything. Let me say it again so there can be no misunderstanding: I LOVE young adult fiction, and I’m not ashamed to say that when I walk into a bookstore I always make a beeline for the YA shelves. There is some seriously good, exciting stuff out there.)

3. It’s NOT because I think all vampire stories suck (terrible pun absolutely intended). I happen to be an old school Buffy and Angel fan. I also quite like what I’ve seen of True Blood. I liked Anne Rice books when I was younger, and Interview With the Vampire was the only film in which I ever found Tom Cruise attractive. Belieeeeeve me, I get the sexy vampire thing. (Who doesn’t like pale, wealthy older men with cardiac vulnerabilities?)

4. It’s not because I’m a literary snob. So not. My favourite book in the whole world is Little Women, ferchrissakes. It’s (essentially, and if we’re talking absolute-bare-bones) about a bunch of teenage girls mooning over boys, fighting with their siblings and wishing they could update their wardrobes more often. I’m currently reading Six Months in Sudan, about a young doctor who spends – that’s right – six months in Sudan, with Medecins Sans Frontieres. I’m also reading The Girl Who Could Fly. It’s about a girl who can fly. I am a book whore and I will read almost anything.

So now that I’ve laid my caveats on the table, here are my main issues with the series.

Bella undoes a lot of fine work

Maybe it’s because I’m a child of the nineties, and we were spoiled for strong female role models in entertainment (Buffy, Willow, Xena, Scully, Ripley, Sarah Connor, Ellie Linton, Hermione Granger, etc), but I actually find Bella Swan so repulsive as a female protagonist that I want to punch myself for having a vagina.

I’m not even going to talk about the fact that Bella is a Mary Sue. (Although if I were to mention it, I would mostly discuss the multiple boys who fall in love with her on her first day at her new school. I might also mention the girls she unwittingly enrages merely by being the object of said boys’ affections (the same girls who OMG totally want to be her BFF because, like, she’s so new and interesting). And the fact that her only discernable flaw is that she’s clumsy and seems to “attract trouble” (which only serves to further endear her to the LEGION of overprotective males in her life). And that she is apparently wildly attractive and fascinating to all the good people of Forks and yet has zero self-regard and is the most infuriatingly modest, self-effacing character ever written. Oh, and to round things off I might mention all the attempts to align her character and Edward’s with Cathy and Heathcliff, and with Romeo and Juliet, in what could possibly be the most facepalmingly unsubtle literary allusions in history. But I’m not going to talk about that, and you can’t make me.)

No. These are the things that really irk me about Bella Swan:

  1. When Edward leaves her in New Moon (for “her own good”… *gag*), she goes mental. Not the good kind, either. It would be absolutely cool with me if she flipped out, tore up his photographs, scratched his CDs, cut up his t-shirts or whatever girls do when boys break up with them. Or even if she decided to really have at it and wallow… like, proper wallow, for a week or two weeks or you know, three or four weeks if she wanted to do a good job. But to totally break down, stop talking to your friends and family, stop going out and generally have the world’s biggest meltdown because your boyfriend has left you and therefore your life is no longer worth living… seriously, WTF? (Just to indulge my inner Whedon geek for a moment: Buffy had to kill her boyfriend and send him to hell in order to save the world. She took a couple of months to get over it and then got back on the motherloving Hellmouth to kill some demons. Get it together, Swan.)
  2. Then, when she finally gets a grip and starts behaving like a normal teenage girl again, she decides to endanger her life by doing things like speeding on a motorcycle without a helmet and jumping off a cliff into the ocean. Not because she has discovered an interest in extreme sports (which would at least have meant she’d gotten a HOBBY), but because… wait for it… it makes her hear the sparkly boyfriend’s voice inside her head, telling her what a fucking moron she is. That’s right, girls… when your boyfriend dumps you and life is no longer worth living, try to get his attention by doing some REALLY FUCKED-UP SHIT.
  3. She blames herself for everything that goes wrong.
  4. She is constantly questioning how anyone as fabulously shiny as Edward could possibly fall for plain old her who apparently has nothing to offer. Her self-flagellation actually gets to the point of absurdity. Any concept of her own self worth is completely tied up in her relationship with Edward and how he feels about her.
  5. This is more of a book irk than a Bella irk. The “love” between Bella and Edward that is shoved down the reader’s throat ad nauseum is told, not shown (my pet peeve in fiction), and actually bears no real resemblance to love. What it does look like is obsession. SO not the same thing.

Edward is one misdemeanour short of a restraining order

I hate to sound like a Middle American conservative librarian soccer “mom”, but if I had a teenage daughter I would be H-O-R-R-I-F-I-E-D to learn that her fictional crush was Edward “Emotional Abuser” Cullen. And yet I have learned there are mothers (plural! Lots of ‘em!) in the world who not only encourage their daughters to read the Twilight series and coo over their precocious spawn developing sweet little literary crushes; they actually read the series themselves and, creepily, share their teenagers’ love of the Sparkly One. This is such a widespread phenomenon that there is actually a name for these women – they call themselves ‘Twimoms’.

Let’s tally up Edward’s transgressions.

  1. He sneaks into Bella’s room and watches her sleep. All the time. Even in the beginning, when he barely knows her. That’s creepy even if you aren’t a sparkly vampire lusting after your stalkee’s blood. It’s just creepy, okay? It’s creepy.
  2. He follows her around EVERYWHERE and watches her CONSTANTLY. He can also read minds, conveniently, which helps him to monitor what Bella’s up to through the thoughts of her family and friends (since he’s unable read the thoughts of Bella herself… although he totally would if he could). Slight invasion of privacy, really.
  3. He has his family keep tabs on her also. Since he has a psychic sister, he can even keep an eye on what she might do in the future. So that’s a pretty comprehensive stalker file he’s compiling.
  4. He is possessive and controlling in really overt ways. He slashes her tyres so that she can’t go visit her shirtless wolfy friend. Of course, it’s all done under the banner of boyfriendly protectiveness, so that somehow makes it acceptable. Except that it’s bad and icky and TOTALLY UNACCEPTABLE.
  5. He tells her who she’s allowed to be friends with, going so far as to forbid her from seeing Jacob. Are we starting to form a realistic picture of this relationship? Edward is a BAD BOYFRIEND.
  6. This last one is probably a bit picky, since we are in fact talking about a vampire story, but… he’s so old. He’s like 108 years old. This wouldn’t be a problem except that he acts it. I mean he doesn’t clutch his back when he walks or keep his teeth in a glass of water on the bedside table, but he has very old-fashioned ideas and can be quite condescending toward Bella. I am totally into older men, but my limit is like a decade, a decade and a half, maybe two at a push… not ninety of them.

If I don’t stop here, I’ll go on forever, and this is already a hell of a long post. Congrats if you made it to the end.

So, I’ve had my rant. Over to you. Is it love? Obsession? Creepy, weird and setting  the foundations for the world’s first domestic abuse charges laid against a 108-year-old non-human? Or am I missing some vital message?

Flickr image from Shutterpillar‘s photostream.

i take it all back…

If you like James Blunt, you may also like his AWESOME performance on Sesame Street.

Of course, it’s Telly who actually gets the best line in this. “It must be those angles put a smile on your face… not to mention the hypotenuse.” Brilliant.

teh internets: a pie chart

I know a lot of people find teh internets (or “the internet” as some of you will insist on calling it) a complex, many-layered and inscrutible beast. To aid understanding, I have created this explanatory pie chart.

Teh Internets: A Pie Chart

  • Funny cat photos 20%
  • Funny cat videos 20%
  • Stephen Fry 3%
  • Ninjas who give advice 8%
  • Porn 19%
  • OMG TWILIGHT IS SO KEWL LOL 12%
  • Creepy personal ads 5%
  • Life coaches 11%
  • Your gran facebooking you 2%

if you like James Blunt, you may also like…

  • Talking about your feelings
  • Crying yourself to sleep
  • Furrowing your brow
  • Giving meaningful looks
  • Talking baby talk to your spouse
  • Despairing at life
  • Kittens

you will love these women

One of the best things about the interwebs, I think, is the sheer volume of sensational women hanging about the place. Here (in no particular order) are a few that I love/admire/LOL at regularly/cyber-stalk.

Maureen Johnson (@maureenjohnson)

Pretty sure I’ve blogged about Maureen before. She’s a young adult fiction writer from New York (author of Suite Scarlett, 13 Little Blue Envelopes, Girl At Sea, Devilish and lots of others). I don’t remember how I stumbled upon her blog, but I fell in love with it before I read any of her books (which are also ace), which to me signals somebody who really gets it. Maureen is BFFs with the internet and social media, and clearly knows a) who her audience is and b) how to talk to them. She is also a Twitter (@maureenjohnson) and Facebook machine. I can’t count the number of author blogs I’ve read, but out of all of them – Neil Gaiman’s included – Maureen’s is the only one I check into on a regular basis. She is so, so funny – go read. Go!

Natalie Tran (@natalietran)

Natalie Tran is the very clever and funny Australian girl behind Community Channel on YouTube. She’s loltacular. I can’t say much more than that really, just watch this video. (For some reason WordPress isn’t letting me embed video today. Rude.)

Robyn Wilder (@orbyn)

Robyn is a longtime blogger, fellow Domestic Slut, highly entertaining and insightful writer and all-round pocket rocket. I had the bittersweet pleasure of getting to know Robyn just months before leaving the motherland to come home to Oz. Shocking timing, but better late than never.

You need to read her blog. Especially this post and this one and definitely this one. Oh gosh, and this one, which is fucking hilarious. And this one, which nearly made me cry. (Me! Stone-hearted me!)

The other thing about Robyn is that, like most of the bloggers I’ve met IRL, she is absolutely bloody lovely, and as funny in person as she is in print. Not to mention a human storage facility of excellent writing advice. (Oh get me, I’ve come over all gushy.)

Sian Meades (@sianysianysiany)

Siany is the clever kitten behind Domestic Sluttery, and one of the few people I know who don’t just have great ideas but actually act on them. I feel this is a pretty crucial part of the genius process.

Sian is that friend you have who, while you’re writing a book, has actually sat down and written one (and I have the memory of a celebratory hangover to prove it). She is gutsy and able in a “Who says I can’t do insert notoriously challenging activity here?” way, and rapidly becoming an online force to be reckoned with. She’s also fantastically fun, great to get drunk with and a brilliant Hay Festival camping buddy. Oh, and she made me a Domestic Slut, so I love her.

I also want to mention the other Domestic Sluts, who are all great writers and mavens of cool. Special places in my little bloggy heart for  Gemma Cartwright and Jane Bradley, who make up the original five sluts. Both are fabulous in a real way, not like “Oh, those shoes are fabulous” but “Oh god, look at all the amazing stuff you’ve done, it hardly seems fair that you’re also rather pretty and nice.”

Gosh, I’m going to get some serious hits for all these repetitions of ‘slut’.

Margaret Nelson (@Flashmaggie)

Margaret is a marvellous broad, and I mean that in the best way. She has about a million blogs (okay, four) including one about death, one about clouds, one for her own art and one about… erm, everything else. Oh, and she also writes some great pieces for the Suffolk Humanists and Secularists site. I guess I just really like her because she’s a brilliant example of someone who refuses to shut up about humanism and secularism, even though there are so many people who wish humanists and secularists would just shut up or go away. Or maybe it’s more that god-free types aren’t supposed to be passionate about atheism, we’re just meant to be stoic and roll our eyes a lot. Either way, she’s not doing it and you can’t make her.

Danielle LaPorte (@DanielleLaPorte)

I am new to the brilliance that is Danielle LaPorte. Full credit to LC Hammer (speaking of fabulous broads…) for introducing me to White Hot Truth, now a regular stop for me when I’m in need of creative and entrepreneurial inspiration. I like her a lot. And I like her summary of White Hot Truth:

“for freedom fighting and love. for conscious business. for ruthless compassion, everyday life as art, and in praise of simplicity! for affluence (all forms of it) and passion that persuades.”

Lately I’ve really enjoyed her pieces, 11 Slightly scary ways to become a better you, How to apologise and 11 Tips for dealing with criticism.

christmas in london V. christmas in oz

London must be the greatest city in the world at Christmas time. To be fair, I’ve only ever spent Christmas in two places (Sunshine Coast and London), and it’s quite well documented that I think London is the greatest city in the world anyway, so my opinion may be slightly skewed… but I think I’d be hard pressed to find anyone who’d argue with me about it being the unofficial Home of Christmas Awesome. (Though I’ll accept alternative submissions, with proper documentation of course.)

I hate to be gushy about things (that is obviously a lie), but honestly – the whole thing is just so magical. I love it when all the street decorations and fancy lights and stuff come out. Oxford Street, Regent Street and Carnaby Street are at their sparkliest… sure, they’re also at their most manically, infuriatingly, fist-eatingly busy too, but I can totally deal with that if it means seeing the AMAZING window displays at Selfridges. I think they really outdid themselves with last year’s life-sized Santa Series (Santa on the tube, Santa in a laundromat, Santa at a sushi rail, etc). It was inspired.

Carnaby Snowmen by Abi Skipp

Unfortunately the giant, inflatable, terrifying snowmen with the white, soulless eyes looming over Carnaby Street in a crouch position, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting shoppers and suck the life out of them or possibly drag them back to some evil frosty lair, might have damaged me a little bit, emotionally.

Oh, but the chestnuts? The CHESTNUTS?Roasting? On an OPEN FIRE? I thought that was fiction! No sir. It happens right on Oxford Street and smells incredible. I’ve never actually eaten them (street food in central London? Non merci), but I thoroughly enjoy the fact that they exist.

I could go on and on, but instead I am going to give you a bullet list of things I loved about Christmas in London. We all know how much I love a bullet list.

  • Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park. Last year Sherri, Scott and I went ice-skating there on Christmas Eve. Unfortunately the hire skates were so crappy, and the ice was so mutilated and slippery from the day’s skating, that it kind of felt like somebody had attached a small, immobile child to each of my ankles and was forcing me to walk around barefoot in a circle on an olive oil-covered tarpaulin while trying to stay upright. But still… magical.
  • Drinking mulled wine at Borough Market after ordering the craziest variety of dead animals to cook on Christmas Day. Pheasant! WTF?! And GOOSE! That is mental. And awesome.
  • Going to the ballet. Last December I saw both Sleeping Beauty and The Nutcracker at the London Coliseum. Now I want to go every year. *Swoon*
  • Cold weather. So much more Christmassy than 40-degree heat.
  • Hosting a Chrismukah party with Ghetto at the Primrose Palace. Get us with our interfaith household! (Her faith being Judaism and mine being… non-existent.) Bridging cultural gaps and shit! Latkes and candy cane cocktails for everybodeeee!
  • Looking out the window before going to bed on Christmas Eve and crossing fingers, toes and other body parts that it would snow overnight (it didn’t, but still…)

I don’t want to give the impression that I don’t also love Christmas here in Australia, so here is a list of AWESOME things about spending this Christmas on the Sunshine Coast.

  • Seafood instead of dead birds. I mean, dead birds are great, but so are fresh prawns, crayfish, mud crabs and Moreton Bay Bugs.
  • Getting to that point in the afternoon where you think you actually might die from the humidity, and then jumping in a pool/ocean/cold shower.
  • You know how when you were a kid and you wanted to get up REALLY, REALLY early to open presents on Christmas day, but it was still 4:30am and your parents were dead asleep? Well, in Australia that’s probably just about when the sun rises in summer… and frankly, once the sun was up on Christmas Day, presents for us were fair game.
  • Carols by Candlelight! This is one Australian Christmas tradition I really missed in London. The great thing about having Christmas in the middle of summer is that nighttime gatherings of thousands of people  (each holding up a candle and singing Oh Holy Night) at your local park or beach are completely realistic and nobody is liable to get frostbitten. (Mosquito-bitten, sure, but the inventors of RID need to earn their money somehow.) My family has gone to Carols by Candlelight every single year for as long as I can remember, usually at Kings Beach in Caloundra. The coolest thing about Carols by Candlelight, especially when you’re little (aside from the requisite fairy floss machines and sausage sizzle), is running around with multiple glow sticks like a fluorescent maniac at an outdoor underage rave. And then when you get a bit older, finally being allowed to hold a proper lit candle of your own. And then setting fire to the carols guide book and burning yourself with hot wax. (No? Just me?)
  • Last minute, late-night Christmas Eve shopping at the Sunshine Plaza. Only Sunshine Coast peeps will know what I am talking about here. It’s so bad it’s good. And by bad, obviously I mean it makes you want to take your own life by hurling your body, still attached to the seventy-five shopping bags you’re carrying, over the Riverwalk bridge and into the shiny brown waters below. Fa la la la la, la la la laaa.
  • Pavlova
  • My mum’s trifle
  • My mum’s potato salad
  • Actually getting to see my family open their presents from me, and witnessing the looks of joy/dismay/confusion/surprise/disappointment that result.

But other than all these, to me the best thing about Christmas wherever you are celebrating it, is the fact that nobody has to be anywhere. There’s no rushing off to go shopping or go to work or to the pub or to meet a friend for coffee or whatever… and there’s nothing that actually needs to be done, except of course all the cooking and eating and stuff. It’s pretty much the one day of the year when nobody needs to be anywhere, and all there is to do is play board games, watch movies and carb load. Sweet.

Flickr image from Abi Skipp‘s photostream.

my questions for writers

Are you a writer? I have some questions for you. Please answer them. In return for your time and kindness, one day I will track you down and take you out for mojitos. We’ll drink and gossip like old school friends. By the end of the night I’ll know all your secrets, and you’ll know that I can’t hold my liquor. We’ll laugh and laugh and laugh.

1. Where do you write best?

2. When do you write best? (I.e. any particular time of day/day of week?)

3. What are your must-have-with-you-at-all-times-when-writing items (if any)?

4. How do you write? E.g. do you edit as you go along, do you brain dump and edit later, etc.

5. How do you make the editor in your head shut the puck up?

6. How do you snap out of procrastination mode?

7. How much do you write in a week?

Thanks! *bats eyelashes*

mullet

I told you I used to have one.

The Mullet of Awesome

Check out how awesome I thought I was. Just leaps right out atcha, don’t it? Look, it was the eighties. We all did some things we regret.

And just to make myself feel marginally better and prove that I wasn’t always such an unfortunate-looking child…

Ice-cream face

Phew. Ice-cream face. Nowadays I pretty much look the same as this, except I have dark hair and my clothes aren’t as cool. I’m a little taller.

we live in dangerous times

NARCISSISTER: My housemate’s ex-husband doesn’t know she has a new boyfriend.

ME: Oh?

MUM: Why?

NARCISSISTER: Not sure. But she said if the ex ever comes around when the boyfriend is there, she wants me to pretend he’s my boyfriend. Which is ridiculous.

ME: Er… yeah. Don’t do that.

MUM: No! No, do NOT do that. That’s how people get shot.

ME: *blink*

NARCISSISTER: *blink*

ME: *blink blink*

NARCISSISTER: What?

MUM: Well, you just don’t know… he could be dangerous.

ME: *shoves fist in mouth*

NARCISSISTER: *tears of hilarity form in corners of eyes*

ME: *silently shaking with mirth*

NARCISSISTER: *falls off chair onto floor*

MUM: Oh yes, very funny.