Showing posts with label Australia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Australia. Show all posts

Thursday, 27 October 2016

8 Times Geelong Proved It's Actually a Town based on 'Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory'


Geelong.  My hometown.  Referred to by some as "the 'Danni Minogue' to Melbourne's 'Kylie'" and referred to by others as "that place the ring road now allows you to bypass on the way to the beach."  If Hong Kong can be labelled 'The Pearl of the Orient', Geelong could at least lay claim to being 'The high-end nipple ring of the Continent'.  But it's so much more than that!  Well, I mean... it's at least a little bit more than that!  We're a wonderous townfolk with a museum that's dedicated to wool, a jail with no inmates and a stadium that's home to cats.  Added to that, (and allow me to explain myself below) I've made a possibly earth-shattering discovery - [wait for it.... wait for it] - it appears that this quaint little city/town/settlement is actually based on the 1971 film 'Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory'!


*CUE DRAMATIC "DUN DUN DUN" SOUND EFFECT*


You'll notice how I've now changed paragraphs, both for dramatic effect and to allow your freshly blown minds to absorb what they've just been dealt.  That's right, parallels between the 'City of Greater Geelong' and the film that gives you diabetes just by watching it.  Like an American version of 'The Ring'; you watch it and then you get fat.  So I want you to prepare yourselves because I'm about to drop some properly amusing Wonka-related similarities on you.  And I mean proper similarities, not just "six degrees of separation" type stuff.  That means I'm even overlooking the fact that a popular nickname for Geelong is "Sleepy Hollow", which was also the title of a Tim Burton film starring Johnny Depp, and both men respectively directed and starred in the film 'Charlie & the Chocolate Factory', which was a remake of 'Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory'!


Therefore, to coincide with the 45th anniversary of the film's release (yep I can hear some of you groaning about how old you just realised you are) and to give you all a reason to visit this fine place of ours, here are 8 times Geelong proved it's actually a town based on 'Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory'.


1.  Our most recent mayor, Darryn Lyons' appearance.


Wonka and Lyons.  Lyons' wardrobe shows they share a fondness for flare, his physique shows they share a fondness for chocolate.  It's really just missing Jade Jagger jumping up and proclaiming though her scrumdiddlyumptious gap teeth, "get the Wonka look!"






2.  Both men had 'tickets on themselves'.



Willy And Darryn. Both men in charge.  Both men with double-consonants in the middle of their first names.  Both men who ran highly popular campaigns based around issuing citizens a limited number of tickets.





3.  We have a river of chocolate.



What else can I say execpt this; it's our Barwon river, it's never claimed the life of an obnoxious chubby German and as you can see, it's our own personal 'chocolate river'.





4.  The busiest 'factory' in the city.



On the left; the brown brick factory and smoke stack that captured the imagination of an unnamed town.  On the right; the brown brick factory and smoke stack that's captured the attention of a nicknamed town.  Its gates were also shut for years only to reopen to much fanfare.  The one on the left is home to little orange Oompa Loompas and the one on the right is also literally home to "Little Creatures".  Sound and look familiar?




5.  And what goes on inside that factory?



Well just like in 'Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory'' as you can see from the photos above, inside this factory you can also find the young and the elderly getting stuck into the consumption of "Fizzy Lifting Drinks".







6.  The appearance of the factory workers.



Inside this and many of our big factories (as you can see above) you'll also find little orange workers.  The only difference being that the main threat to the ones on the left is a combination of "Wangdoodles, Hornswogglers, Snozzwangers, and rotten, Vermicious Knids", while the main threat to the ones on the right is cheap off-shore labour and OH&S officers.





7.  What brings all the boys (and girls) to the yard.


The most popular event in the town's social calendar is a place where children over-indulge in chocolates and lollies, before going on rides that are both nauseating and traumatic.  'The Geelong Show': basically a Wonka factory tour that can be cancelled due to bad weather and is less selective about admission.




8.  Waterslides or just fat kid catchers?


Finally, we're home to a sealed tube system built in the 1970s where overweight children run the risk of getting stuck when passing through them.  The only difference is that if you see brown liquid coming down it behind you, it's not chocolate, someone's had a horrible accident and you should pray you don't get stuck before it gets to you.




So with summer holidays drawing closer, why wouldn't pay this place a visit!?  A trip to Geelong's going to be cheaper than a trip to Disneyland, it's easier to get to than Gumbuya Park, it's still in operation unlike Wobbie's World and unlike Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory, it's non-fictional!  I don't recommend you lick the walls, eat the giant mushrooms growing in the park or take lollies from a stranger, but I do recommend you hop in your "glass elevator" coupe, get the family down here, stop in for a pint of 'fizzy lifting drink' and wander along our chocolate water system.




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Friday, 8 April 2016

10 (and a bit) Reasons You Should Absolutely Not Cheer for Novak Djokovic!

He’s the world number one who makes all of the players ranked below him look like a collective giant "number two".  In light of the fact that another series of Djokovic triumphs has us hearing a series of different criticisms from people trying to justify why they dislike him, I felt it only fair that I compile a list of a few criticisms that will finally outline some completely valid reasons for disliking the super-serving, rapid returner with the back-hand from the city Belgrade and the forehand from the land of 4C’s.

1.  ALL HE DOES IS WIN WIN WIN, NO MATTER WHAT!

Loyal Grand Slam customers get looked after if they make an 11th purchase.


Djokovic wins… a lot.  Like he wins pretty much everything.  Last year he had the most successful season in tennis history!  You’re not the only one with a pool room Djoker!  Wanna give someone else a chance!?  The ATP tour’s become a series of Djokovic re-runs.  People attending live Grand Slam finals have started turning to each other before the first serve and saying, “haven’t we already watched this match like 8 times?”  On top of that, again as winner of the Australian Open, he left with $3.8 million this year.  Now what one person calls “prize money”, someone else might call “regularly exceeding the amount of money one person is allowed to take out of the country.”  Whether he’ll appear on an episode of 'Border Patrol' anytime soon, we can’t say for sure.  What we can say for sure is just that it’s disappointing to see Eastern European migrants coming in and taking hard-working Aussie jobs!


2.  THE UNFAIR ADVANTAGE.

He grew up during a time when NATO and US forces were dropping depleted uranium on Serbia, soooo he’s probably radioactive.  It just doesn’t seem right to cheer for someone who appears to have radioactive superpowers and therefore an unfair advantage over the rest of the ATP players, am I right!?  He’s pretty much one of the X-Men.


3.  THE UNUSUAL YOUTH TRAINING.

Don't take my word for it, take mathematics' word for it.

The unfair training advantage of the support from NATO and the US doesn’t stop there.  For example, while Federer grew-up playing tennis at a Swiss estate where there was a pool, Djokovic grew-up playing tennis in an empty pool during a state of emergency.  While Murray was allowed to stop training when his coach blew the whistle, Djokovic was allowed to train until the army sounded the air raid siren.  It’s a level court so shouldn’t it be a level playing field?

4.  DIET AND DONATION.

Firstly, he’s single-handedly making Santa and the Easter Bunny look bad with his overwhelming generosity.  I mean following his 2016 Australian Open win, he donated $20,000 to Melbourne City Mission's early childhood learning program!  Where does he get off!?  Added to that, he’s gluten-free and he spends a lot of time helping sick children and the less fortunate.  You know what that means - he probably has a weak immune system and he’s in all likelihood contagious.  Yep, generous or contagious people!?  Stick with people like Rafa; who seems to only have some sort of anal itch, and Kyrgios; whose charity work is limited to getting his brother and mates free tickets to his games.  Really, they’re the healthier option.


5.  MUM’S THE WORD.

Someone's not getting bitty tonight!


He’s defeated Murray dozens of times in front of his mum.  In front of his own mum!  Do you know how much that strains a relationship between a mother and son when the son repeatedly flies the mother out to the other side of the world only to see him embarrassed on each occasion?!  I bet she can’t even look Andy in the eyes when she breastfeeds him anymore.



6.  MR. NICE GUY.

He’s a nice guy AND he’s the world No.1!  Has he no respect for the sacred “nice guys finish last” rule!  If Djokovic keeps up this kind of behaviour, it’s going to force the wider community to question their belief system in terms of success and more importantly, where are all of Nick Kyrgios’ supporters going to go!?  Also, let's not forget he’s a Serbian coached by a German.  Between the two men’s countries dominating basketball, football, waterpolo and volleyball just to name a few sports, now they’re taking over tennis as well!  With the Serbian talent for sporting domination combined with the German quest for world domination, the west is screwed if WW3 is a sporting event.

7.  HE DE-RAILED THE FED-EXPRESS:

Started from the top and now my whole crew here.

He’s better than Roger Federer.  Wait, or is it “Federerer”?  How many “er’s” are there in this dude’s name anyway!?  Meh, I digress – Novak, you aren’t allowed to be better than Roger Federer!  Do you know how hard it is to draw a double-headed eagle on a tri-colour flag with face paint!?  It’s certainly a lot harder than cheering “Go Roger!” and drawing a first aid sign on one's face with two colours (one if you’re sunburnt or really pale)!  When you’ve been told by the mainstream media for so long that Federer is the "greatest of all time" and you go and kit yourself out with the appropriate supporters’ gear based on that assumption, only to have it proven wrong, where does that leave you with your credit card debt from SwissSupportersShop.com!?  Where does that leave you and your house full of Swiss flags that make you look like you live in a battlefield hospital and your collection of ‘RF’ caps that make you look like the most epic supporter of the Rotary Foundation in history!?

8 (and a bit).  THE UNPREDICTABLE BEHAVIOUR.

What’s with his erratic behaviour too!?  Like when he applauds his opponent when he makes a good shot and then smiles happily when he wins?  I’m sorry, haven’t you learned anything from Federer?  Why can’t you just ignore the achievements of your opponent and then cry when you win?!
*Sidenote:  It’s also okay to say Djokovic is arrogant once you’ve decided you dislike him.  I haven’t really made Webster’s Dictionary my bed time reading choice of late, but I’m pretty sure it outlines the definition of ‘arrogance’ as; “the expression of happiness from a person you dislike following a success they have achieved in spite of your overt dislike for them.”  Yep, a safe bet is this; happy Djokovic = "arrogant", sad Djokovic = "sore loser".  How much better do you feel about yourself now!?  It’s like I just poured you an extra glass of weekend on a Monday morning!

9.  SOMETHING DOESN’T ADD UP.

I stand by my made-up, non-existent movie.
He’s a Serbian guy that beats the very Anglo opponents he faces.  So I imagine it’s a massive shock to most of you that this flies in the face of what you’ve no doubt learned watching movies like 'Behind Enemy Lines' and 'The Peacemaker' where the guy with the Slavic last name is always the bad guy and always loses.  This isn’t sport, this is fan fiction!


10.  HE’S A BAD HOUSEGUEST.

Djokovic has won six trophies and more prize money at the Australian Open than any other competitor.  So he comes to Australia, as our guest year-in year-out, and like inviting a kleptomaniac tradie over to your house after hours for dinner, you end-up paying him handsomely only to have him leave the country with your finest silverware.
So in the end, let’s not forget Djokovic is the world number one.  He’s the best in the world at his job.  Yet every time he comes to work, he’s got to deal with several hundred people cheering for the guy who’s just rocked-up trying to get him fired and take his job.  People who probably watch the movie ‘Happy Gilmore’ and cheer for Shooter McGavin over Happy Gilmore.  A Wimbledon crowd that probably cheers for Johnny Lawrence against Daniel LaRusso in ‘The Karate Kid’ and a capacity Arthur Ashe Stadium that in all likelihood when watching ‘Indiana Jones & the Raiders of The Lost Ark’, cheers for the rolling giant ball rather than Indy.

If you read this as a genuine “how to” guide, there’s a chance you might have a severe 'Fed-oepus complex' (where you want to eliminate Federer’s wife and have an intimate relationship with Roger).  If you laughed, share it with your friends, cheer for Nole and show everyone that the Djoker is the King.
The King is still well and truly in the building.
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Thursday, 11 February 2016

My Kitchen Rulebook: Countries Getting Credit for Cuisine

Well it was a Tuesday night of My Kitchen Rules that saw contestant Zana (and her subservient Italian houseboy with the spot of Velcro below his bottom lip) become a nightmare version of King Midas where everything she touched seemed to turn to ‘Albanian’.  An example being her attempt to claim paprika and pita.  Pita and paprika are about as Albanian as proportionate facial features and above average height.
 
So to prevent this misunderstanding happening repeatedly, I’m going to clearly outline which dishes belong to five selected nations as well as another five honourable mentions.
 

Italian

 

Any spin on pasta, pizza, garlic bread or risotto, Italians get to claim.  Pizza alone is a brilliant creation that no one should be allowed to take off you.  I mean seriously, it’s a series of delicious toppings melted together on top of an edible plate!  It’s yours and that was clear once a group of Japanese born ninja turtles loved their food so much that they decided to take on Italian names.  And full credit to Italians because they don’t so much live by a food pyramid as they do a food leaning tower of Pisa, and it’s leaning because it’s built completely on the weight of carbohydrates.  Sidenote, they’ve also done more for the consumption of tomatoes than if Mr. Heinz bought the city of Napoli and they’ve shown that a brilliant way to ensure no one else claims their sauces is to name them after Italian cities.  I’m also prepared to give you tiramisu, canoli and the stingiest coffee ever that serves the purpose of outlining who to drop from your friendship group when they mispronounce it “EXpresso”.  Really, the power of Italian cooking is that a pizza & pasta restaurant in Shepparton can put pineapple, egg and raw prawn on top of a dish and call it the ‘Aussie Special’ but it’s still an Italian dish.
 

French

 
 
Here’s what the French get; raw steaks and burnt custards, unsatisfyingly small portions and unnecessarily long breads as well as pate and dishes that look more like art instalments than dinner.  They get expensive cheeses, oily oxygen-filled pastries and yoghurts that belong in kids’ lunchboxes more than on dinner tables.  Unless Manu likes ‘Yoplait Petit Miam’, in which case I could be wrong.  If you find that at some point during the preparation of the food you’re using wine more than a Greek dish uses olive oil and then it takes you 45 minutes to plate it up, there’s a good chance whatever you’re making is French.  FYI Zana, that’s how you assign credit for a dish.  See even in McDonald's Tirana, I’m pretty sure they still call them French fries.  If the dish ends in a silent letter, isn’t pronounced how it’s spelled, various ingredients are supposed to have mould on them before preparation and the dish costs $130 per head, it may also be French.  Technically there’s a French theme to every meal seeing as we’ve already labelled stages of dining as hors d'oeuvres and entrée.  Meze has tried to take the monopoly off it so valiant effort.
 

Asian

 
 
There are far too many countries and different dishes in Asia with richly delicious dishes so it’s only fair that when assigning credit, we just roll with a general “Asian” label.  If in doubt, go with this logic; the dish’s label goes to the place where it came from, not from the person making it.  It’s probably a key reason why in Dandenong there are no “Albanian sushi” shops.  If your dish contains a mix of sweet and sour flavours, unless you’ve accidentally spilled your dessert into your main, then you’ve got an Asian dish on your hands.  Anything rice-based, be it noodles, main dish or alcohol can be claimed by Asia.  They gave us fish that doesn’t need to be cooked, ice-cream that can be fried and MSG that can go with everything.  The other great thing about Asian cuisine is it’s so popular, identifiable and comes with its own culturally specific cutlery that it requires little detailed description here and is pretty much “Zana-proof.”
 

Greek

 
 
If the hero of your dish is a combination of lamb, lemon and a suspicious absence of lettuce in any of your salads, that’s a Greek dish.   The only way it could be more Greek is if it was served with a side of financial crisis on a bed of yoghurt and a plate made of an old marble tile.  This includes gyros and moussaka.  As for dessert, galaktoboureko and tulumbe can have the Greek flag planted on top of them because any dessert that can turn you from ironman to diabetic in one sitting is decidedly Greek.  Worth also mentioning that Greeks and Serbs get to share a number of dishes including pita though because we share so much anyway including borders, a religion, a Cyrillic alphabet and a history of fighting the Turks.
 

Serbian

 
 
This leads me nicely into Serbia.  This is a fun one because basically if the dish caters for approximately 10 times the number of guests you’re hosting, I’d like to say that it can be claimed as a Serbian dish.  If it contains cabbage, a large quantity of beautifully prepared but proudly un-marinated meat, sausages with no skin on them, is considered too salty by the Australian dinner guests and anything where beans are a main dish rather than a condiment, it can be claimed as a Serbian dish.  Cevapi, pljeskavice, sarma, kajmak, kacamak and proja are stamped with the “4 C’s of ownership”.   As for the sweets; look to whatever an old Serbian baba makes like she went to school for it and you’ll find your answer.  They don’t know how to lie and take great pride in making exclusively Serbian specialties so you can be sure zito, oblande, knedle and even Zana’s krofne can be painted ‘red-blue-white’.  It’s fair to also say that if there are more than 1000 calories per square centimetre of the dish you’ve prepared, it’s a Serbian dish.  If the peppers are minced into a relish, the yoghurt is poured as a drink and the entrée is heavier than most mains, this is also a good chance it’s Serbian.
 

**Honourable mentions**

 

German:

They get schnitzel, stuffed sausages, pickled everything and heavy beers.  The food may not be the best, but the waitresses serving it often are.
 

Indian:

Curry, samosas and just generally food that spends more time going out that coming in.
 

Mexican:

From burritos to quesadillas to nachos and tacos as well as jalapenos and salsa, if the ‘J’ in the dish is pronounced as an ‘H’, the ‘L’ is pronounced as a ‘Y’ and the final stage of preparation of the dish has to be done by the diners at the table, you get to claim it.
 

Spanish:

Tapas, churros, paella, sangria and chorizo.  From dips and drinks, to dinner and desserts, you can safely plant your flag on these dishes and rest assured you won’t look like a culinary version of your homegrown explorer Christopher Columbus.
 

Australian:

Pies taken from the English, a cake named after a Russian, biscuits named after soldiers.  Also, meat taken from the animals on our coat of arms, flavourless wheat-based breakfast biscuits, yeast extract spread.  Coles and Woolworths snags and burgers aren’t the finest product but apparently they seem hell bent of bringing them out at every barbecue/celebration/dinner party so it seems fair to include them as a national dish too.
 
So my sign-off here is half for Zana and half for the MKR contestants to come:
To Zana; like a dodgy worker at an even dodgier accountant’s office, you’re trying to claim way too much!  Your Porsche isn’t an Albanian car just because you drive it, your local Woolies isn’t an Albanian supermarket just because you shop in it and unless Jamie Oliver has fallen on extremely hard times and had to start selling his merchandise from a van in the city of Tirana, I’m pretty sure you aren’t using Albanian cookware either.  The key point to take away from this is that just because someone in your country makes it, doesn’t make it a national dish of your country. 
 
To the rest of the contestants:  In the end, like a politician making a speech at a festival and thanking the traditional owners of the land, when you’re putting that MKR meal on the table, thank the traditional owners of the dish.  Consider giving credit to the country that’s really responsible for the dish you’re preparing.  Something along the lines of; “tonight’s dish is a Hong Kong salad with Vietnamese noodles, brought to you by Gavin and Karen from Wangaratta.”  Happy cooking!

** For more info, updates and photos, follow me on Twitter & Instagram **
 

Friday, 10 October 2014

Bach-man: The Dark Knight Surprises

Now that you’ve all had a week to deal with the fallout of the ‘Bachelor’ finale, it’s time to look at whether the writing was on the mansion wall for this ‘creek tragedy’ much earlier.  I say ‘creek tragedy’ rather than ‘Greek tragedy’ of course because of the uniquely Australian spin employed here; a bloke dates numerous women simultaneously and then breaks-up with one overseas within weeks of proposing.  Here’s a quick look at some of the reasons why this fairy tale (short of the final episode being set in Bangkok) was never going to have a happy ending.


First and foremost ladies; don’t mistake meeting a douchebag in a rented mansion for meeting prince charming in a royal palace.  No successful monogamous relationship has ever started in a mansion.  They’ve ended there and they’ve visited there, but they’ve never started there.  If you want a mansion-based love affair, put on bunny ears and hope when Hugh Hefner scraps your name and replaces it with a number, you’re at least in the top 50.



Secondly, how did any of the viewing audience or competing bachelorettes think a show based around letting the male make all of the choices was going to end well?  Any girlfriend, wife, sister or ‘gal-pal’ that’s ever asked a straight man to choose which of her two dress options he prefers, would know that making executive decisions is not in a straight male’s skill set.  It ranks right up there with sharing our feelings and remembering anniversaries.  How did you think getting him to choose from 24 options would turn out well?  For crying out loud, host ‘Osher/Andrew/G/Gunsberg’ can’t even decide on which name he wants to go by!
 
While we’re on the topic of choices, whose brilliant idea was it to send the girls to South Africa for ‘Le Grande dumping’!?  South Africa; the country that gave us the 'vuvuzela', apartheid and the villains of ‘Lethal Weapon 2’.  The only way this whole experience could have ruined my memories of ‘The Lion King’ more, was if Blake had dumped Lisa and then immediately pushed her off pride rock.  The symbolism was there; elephant bones, red sand and an environment where a cactus would struggle to grow – what made you think love could?  If you got called into your boss’s office and it looked like that, you’d know you were getting made redundant before you were getting a heartfelt marriage proposal.  Not since Prince William and Kate’s Australian visit has a couple had to sit through more native tribal dances.  Sorry Channel Ten, but if I want to see heartbreak on the African continent, I’ll watch ‘Blood Diamond’ or simply tell my sponsor child his drawings are shit and I’m stopping payments.

 
 
Also, sorry to crush the illusion for the girls at home and in the house, but Blake didn’t organise the dates.  I know, I know, it's the news heartbreak is made of but then again, the truth both hurts and heals.  If that was part of the attraction, you should’ve focused your affections on the producer or the work experience kid who died a little inside every time you or one of the Bachelorettes uttered the words, “Awww Blake put together this beautifully romantic date”.  If you listened carefully after each time someone said it, you could hear ‘Jason the intern’ shouting off camera, “alright next time Blake can try driving out to Narre Warren looking for a store that stocks candleholders suitable for replicating a Thai sunset!”

Side note:  never trust a man who sounds like he’s getting a chunk of the band Journey’s royalties every time he mentions their name.  Blake mentioned the word “journey” so many times, I started to think he was saying ‘Germany’ and I assumed the final episode would be filmed in Munich at Oktoberfest.  In fact, what should have happened is that every time Blake mentioned the Bachelorettes being on this ‘journey’ with him, each girl should have gotten 20,000 frequent flyer points.  You’re not a hobbit mate, this isn’t Middle-Earth and you’re not on a journey.  I mean sure it did end up with you grabbing a ring, but that’s by-the-by.



People believing all along that Blake was a nice guy and how wrong they were is essentially a very good explanation for how Ivan Milat was able to get backpackers into his car and how Tony Abbott was able to get elected Prime Minister.  A vast majority of the Australian public are to judging character what ISIS is to peaceful protest.  With all due respect to Blake, you don’t get to claim a broken heart if you’re the douche that causes it.  And if you do feel pain in your heart, it’s in all likelihood a result of steroid abuse rather than disappointment at love lost. 
 
The question needs to be asked – do people who are desperate to meet someone even need shows like ‘The Bachelor’ anymore?  With the rise of programs and applications such as Tinder, Grindr, Facebook and Instagram, it seems ‘dating shows’ are being made obsolete by what I’m labelling ‘relationsh-apps’.  Not sure if I can trademark that but it certainly gives credence to the theory that ‘The Bachelor’ is potentially more of a tool for people trying to find fame rather than look for love.  Word to the wise; don’t let your sibling or daughter go on a show where she competes with other women for the affections of one man.  It’s demeaning and probably quite damaging.  We shouldn’t have ‘The Bachelor’.  What we should have is a show, with a similar format called, ‘The Bachelor Degree’.  A show where 24 women compete for university degrees while fending off the advances of a creepy guy with a voice like ‘Love Song Dedications’ host, Richard Mercer.
 


Regardless of where you stand on the issue, be it ‘Team Sam’ or ‘Team Blake’, one thing’s for certain; people haven’t turned against a bachelor this much since Jesus.  And he at least left the booming voice and process of eliminating people he didn’t like, to his dad.  I will say this though; if you’re disappointed in ‘The Bachelor’ finale, you should really be disappointed that you ever invested so much interest in it in the first place.  It’s like investing more money in a 'pyramid scheme' each week and then blaming the scheme when it goes under and takes all of your money with it.


In the end, we can say two things with absolute certainty; the first being that whether or not the claims about there being no sex in the ‘Bachelor Mansion’ are true or false, the viewers at least got well and truly screwed... and they didn’t even get a rose.  The second – no girls are going to be shining the 'Bach signal' into the night sky for Blake any time soon.

Friday, 6 June 2014

'Game of Driza-Bones': Australia's Commonwealth Dilemma

It’s not often that the sight of the ‘green & gold’ has Aussies seeing red, but the unveiling of the new Commonwealth Games uniforms for Team Australia has done just that. Nanna knits, jumbuck jackets and delightfully daggy Dunlops are the heroes of this dish that appears to have been served-up from beneath the shade of a Coolabah tree. The outfits are certainly seeing an all out attack on their defence apparel designers, so let’s take a look at the uniforms and issue, as they unfold.

According to social media and various online surveys yesterday, feedback suggests that a “majority of the Australian public” hate the new Commonwealth Games uniforms. Now to them I say, with all due respect, you’re the same “majority of Australians” that elected Tony Abbott Prime Minister of this country. Based solely on that little fact, you’ve in all likelihood lost all right to an opinion. Where was this outrage when my primary school winter uniform meant I had to wear a flesh-coloured skivvy and knee-high socks? You don’t know my struggle until you’ve had your mother fit you for a compulsory flesh-coloured cotton track-suit for your primary school sports days. There’s a good chance what you have is not an opinion on uniforms, but in fact an uninformed opinion – *BOOM* – wordplay worthy of a possible Commonwealth Games bronze.


Let’s start by addressing the green & gold elephant in the middle of the room; there is really no way to make green & gold look good together. Essentially, they’re the colour of envy and urine. There’s a reason they’re not in the wardrobe of your average Australian citizen, and if they are, there’s a reason they rarely make their way out of said wardrobe. There’s only so much we can do with the colours we’ve been given. It’s tantamount to handing ‘My Kitchen Rules’ contestants a celery stick, cucumber and a lemon and asking them to make you a Pavlova – you’re disappointed with the result and left with a bitter taste in your mouth.

We also need to stop pretending Australia has a rich history of high fashion. Our “national style” is either overly protective or intensely revealing. It’s either footy shorts, a Bonds singlet, thongs and an akubra hat or Blundstones/Dunlop volleys, Driza-Bone jackets and Hard Yakka pants. If there was a word to describe our aforementioned “national style”, it would be “resistant”. Our clothes have to be resistant to seemingly everything. They have to be water-resistant, wind-resistant, sun-resistant, stain-resistant, flame-resistant, fade-resistant, bug-resistant even bird-resistant – we spend so much time making our clothing resistant, we don’t have time to make it look irresistible!

 

The other key benefit many have overlooked is that we now have the only official Commonwealth Games uniform, which is also hi-vis and OH&S friendly. Given that more and more event host countries are failing to meet construction deadlines of their stadiums, this could mean that we sweep the medal pool by default as we’re likely the only team permitted to compete on a construction site. So even on the off chance that Glasgow isn’t ready on time, there’s still time for Aussies to get behind their athletes and start designing a green & gold hardhat!

Essentially, we need to ask ourselves; how much does the appearance of the outfits really matter in the grand scheme of things. Wasn’t it Martin Luther King Jr. who once declared, “Athletes should not be judged by the colour of their skins or by the content of their carry-on”?   I may have skipped the odd history class in high school but I digress.  Firstly, these athletes are some of the fastest moving and agile people in the Commonwealth if not the world, you’ll be lucky if you get a glimpse of their outfits long enough to pass judgement. It’s the same reason people would be up-in-arms if the Victoria’s Secret fashion show was a sprint.

Secondly, these are some of the most attractive people in Australia, with bodies most could only dream of having – why do they even need uniforms? I’ll be the first to suggest that green & gold painted-on body suits are the way to go. They’re unique, aerodynamic, tailored to the individual athlete’s body, an attractive sight for the crowds, a distracting one for the competitors and in these tough economic times for Australia, what better way for the government to show that they’re committed to saving money!? It’s an opportunity to get the Commonwealth Games viewing audience into the billions. Honestly, I’ve never watched a great deal of Commonwealth Games as I’ve often viewed it as the slow in-bred 2nd cousin of the Olympics, however if this policy was instituted, I would be watching the rhythmic gymnastics intently!


When we get right down to it, let’s face it Australia; as long as our athletes bring home as much gold, silver and bronze as they can physically fit into their carry-on luggage, we could care less if they cross that finish line, balance on that beam or win that match dressed in a pair of green & gold pyjama pants, hand-me-down sweaters and tee-bars. The results and performances of our athletes are what matter. That’s why you’ll never hear a reporter after one of the Diamonds’ netball games saying, “Yeah a decent win, good ball-movement, but geez, wasn’t the colour coordination and precision stitching on those skirts and bibs something to behold!” Really, if history’s taught us anything, it’s that you can wear even the most unflattering outfit as long as your achievement is big enough. Neil Armstrong walked on the moon in an all-white ski suit, biker helmet and school backpack and no one criticised that clash of styles. Mel Gibson fought back the English in a kilt and he had a movie made about him… seriously though, I skipped a fair few history classes.

So come on Australia, let’s be uniform in our support and remember that getting behind our athletes doesn’t mean we have to get on their backs. Sure, in the future we may need to consider more fashion-friendly colours and say "out with the ‘green & gold’ and in with the ‘blue’," but right now let’s just set our sights on the winner’s podium rather than the catwalk. If that means wearing something that looks like the ‘Man From Snowy River’ turned hipster and had his nanna put together an outfit for him, well then “OI OI OI!”

Friday, 31 May 2013

From the MCG to McGuire: The ‘Racists’ that Shocked a Nation.

Racist' – one of the biggest six-letter words in the English language.  It’s a label as damaging as it is undesirable. In the last week alone, it’s brought a young girl national infamy and now looks set to cost a football club president his job.  So are such repercussions justifiable or has Australia been isolated from the true face of racism for so long, that it’s forgotten what it really looks like?

This issue seems to have very little to do with racism.  It’s about much more than a radio gag made in poor taste or an ignorant comment made by a 13 year-old football supporter trying to sledge an opposing team member.  At the heart of it, the issue is with what people deem ‘offensive’ as much as it is about people being a little to quick to label others as racists and feeling good about themselves for doing so. The question should be; why were these same people so silent when Harry O’Brien called Tom Hawkins a “fat f**k” and where was this same level of disgust when Stephen Milne was being berated by a Collingwood supporter on the boundary line and, among other things, being called a “rapist”?  It seems concerning that many of these critics are unwilling to address the issue of abuse in general.  Given the implications on the recipient of the ‘racist’ tag, rushing thoughtlessly to call someone a racist doesn’t make you a good person. If anything, it more than likely paints you as a tad prejudicial.


Some are calling for people to have a ‘thicker skin’, which given Australia’s leading position in ‘world obesity’ rankings seems a little ironic. In light of this, in terms of the more general topic of what offends us or what we consider hurtful, is it possible that we’re breeding a generation of people who no longer believe in the “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me” philosophy?  Yes, certain words have been deemed ‘offensive’.  Some have even been used with undertones ranging from racist to sexist.  However, I’ve heard the words ‘chicken’, ‘noodle’ and ‘string bean’ used in derogatory ways, should we start censoring the list of ingredients in a stir fry recipe?  Words can hurt, they can heal, they can entertain and they can enrage.  Maybe it’s worth examining people’s actions, after all, it’s so often said that they "speak louder."

The problem appears to be a general inability or unwillingness to distinguish between ‘racism’ and ill-thought-out comments that are deemed ‘offensive’.  If this is indeed what the moral majority is up-in-arms about and what they hope to change, there’s going to be a lot of work to do.  For instance; no more ‘supermarkets’ because they denote all other markets as ‘non-super’, ‘ordinary’ and ‘inferior’.  ‘Knock knock’ jokes would be outlawed on the basis that they offend the homeless.  Saying ‘bless you’ to people who sneeze will be outlawed as it is offensive to atheists.  Also, no more advertising Mercedes-Benz, Volkswagen, Lufthansa, the song ’99 Luftballons’, Bosch products, Siemens products, Blaupunkt products, and Boris Becker – because they arouse too many painful memories for holocaust survivors, who are all too aware of ‘German efficiency’.  This might seem a little over-the-top, but you certainly see what I’m getting at.


Ultimately, saying the wrong thing without thinking and having to apologise for it isn’t an example of racism, it’s the foundation of marriage.  Making one thoughtless comment doesn’t make you a ‘racist’ any more than writing a couple of letters makes you a ‘novelist’.  Just over 300 years ago, English poet, Alexander Pope wrote in ‘An Essay on Criticism’, “fools rush in where angels fear to tread.”  So many people are rushing to label people as ‘racists’, and taking joy in doing so, that it seems they’re more interested in being seen to be doing the right thing than doing the right thing.  Dangerous, considering that following the masses without exercising rational thought is kind of what persecution predicated on, right?  Realistically, the people that have been so vocal in their criticism of Eddie McGuire’s gaffe are the same people who have remained suspiciously quiet about this “pot” that’s been racially labelling “kettles” all these years.

Perhaps the biggest issue, as Jim Rohn once said, is that common sense is not so common.  We’re humans; sometimes we make mistakes, sometimes we misspeak, sometimes we’re misunderstood.  Some of us are even malicious and sometimes, unfortunately, are indeed discriminatory of others.  It’s important for us to know how to tell the difference.  It just seems that maybe if people exercised a little more discretion when it really mattered, they’d exert a lot less energy on things that really didn’t.