Sunday, June 2, 2013

Why Star Trek Into Darkness Was Terrible.

My friend was shocked that Star Trek Into Darkness had been out for however long and I hadn't seen it. She had expected me, in my infinite nerdiness, to have been there on the day it was out dressed up as my favourite character and ready to go. Her obvious misguided ideas of just how nerdy I am aside, I was actually expecting myself to have seen it sooner too. Star Trek, although not my favourite sci-fi franchise is still enjoyable. I was eager to see it as I remember having enjoyed the first of J.J. Abrams' Star Trek movies.

Alas, I was very disappointed.

It starts off pretty well, with action, intrigue, and some wonderful foreshadowy tones with a near deadly scenario involving Spock in a volcano which leads to some interesting exposition on Spock's character as a half-human later on. This scene though turns Uhura into an emotional love-sick wreck and makes her not only a useless fop, but her whingy feminine bickering and completely stereotypical womanly inability to control her emotions leads to endangering Spock and Kirk later on while she's distracting them from their surroundings. This is where the issues with Star Trek begin. I was hoping, wishing, throughout the film that Uhura would overcome her uselessness and become a character in her own right with depth and emotions outside of "whingey" and "irritated". She is a translator, that is her special gift that allows her to stand proud against all the men whose basic skills guarantee them importance, and does she get to show this off? You bet she does!

Yaaaay! Not really. Her moment to shine by saying a few random things in Klingon is basically a chance to stall before the white male (meant to be a not-white male but whatever. For once whitewashing a character makes the vaguest sense - after all, the alternative would be to make the only dark skinned main character besides Uhura a villain. The brave whites vs the evil dark skinned guy is too common an unfortunate trope these days so what is clearly not an intentional attempt to avoid racism inadvertently is mildly redeeming enough to simply conflicting, instead of outright offensive to me) comes in to save the day. Uhura's only worth is as a distraction, not as an individual with agency over the situation.

Let's take a pause from this feminist reading of Star Trek to point out that yes, it has other flaws outside of race and gender. For starters, a lot of the shots were ever so slightly out of focus. It annoyed me so much because it went from crisp and sharp... to slightly blurry. I'd punch that focus puller in the face if only I had hands and also was a violent individual.

As a film based off a series that was meant to be progressive, especially for it's time (but still can be seen as progressive now considering it is always seen as special when non-whites are cast as main characters), it is sad to see something so utterly terribly misogynistic and devoid of substance. It had been glossed over into a very straightforward Hollywood action romp set in space which is not what it is meant to be. Even worse is J.J. Abrams is stuck in this delusional bubble where nerdy things are inherently masculine and therefore cannot imagine a woman being part of his audience. You know who is a big fan of Star Trek? My mother. I went to see it with a female friend, who had already seen it, first person to talk to me about it when I arrived home was a woman, former girlfriends have loved Star Trek so much, I know a woman with a Spock tattoo. I actually honestly think I know more nerdy women into Star Trek than I do guys. Whenever I've been in a comic book store it has been with women. First time I walked in there was a female staff member. Whenever I go to comic conventions the people I bump into are my female friends and only very rarely a guy I know. Being a nerd is not an idea reserved for socially inept men whose interaction with women is predominantly fantasies that get played out on screens.

That kind of thinking is stereotypical and insulting. To the writers and director of Star Trek: Women don't exist for the sake of the male gaze. Women do not exist for the sake of the male gaze. 

There is of course more women than Uhura. In order I believe there are some sexy cat ladies who have slept with the dashing young Captain Kirk and have no depth outside of being sexual, then there's the woman in the bar that Kirk desires to hit on but is interrupted, then there's the blonde Carol Marcus who is an intelligent doctor, science officer, and weapons specialist. Sounds like the recipe for a strong female character who is a role model and inspiration to the large amount of women watching this film right? Wrong. Granted, she has more depth than the cardboard cut out resembling Uhura that somehow manages to speak out of its paper lips, she isn't just regarded as barely useful to the plot but her usefulness is overshadow by her overt sexualisation for the sake of encouraging the audience to objectify and fantasise about her. She isn't using her sexuality to manipulate those around her and utilise this misogyny for her own gains like a proper empowered woman would, she is simply trying to do her job and cannot escape her degradation let alone object to it. Her singular moment of worth in the plot is when she tells Kirk that she thinks the missiles - which Scotty has already stated - are dodgy and she wants to open one. Huzzah! She is smart! She is actively progressing the plot! But what? For some reason this entire conversation involves her leading Kirk into a shuttle where she proceeds to strip off her clothes, presumably to change into something more appropriate for going to a planet. She tells Kirk to look away, of course, but when he disregards her wishes and privacy she poses sexily and dismissively tells him to turn around again. This gratuitous stripping is simply forced in making that particular plot point bizarre, but also provides the trailer with sufficient sexual allure to yep, you guessed it, appeal to all the horny nerdy fan boys. See what I mean about assuming the audience is strictly male? We would've fantasised about her anyway, being the sexy blonde, but now our male gaze gets catered to directly. Her worth in that scene is belittled by the unnecessary transformation of her into a sex object.

Moments later, on the planet with Bones, she is doing SCIENCE (something that Bones doesn't really know about, which I will explain later). Very important of course to the plot, but Bones cannot help but treat this chance to be near a woman as a reason to flirt incessantly. The audience is encouraged to continuously think of her as a sex object instead of noticing how influential and intelligent she is currently being. Her lack of interest in Bones's advances are irrelevant because her interest is not the point, the tantalising dangling of her in front of us is. She is never seen as useful without being directly juxtaposed with being a sexual being whose presence is directly or indirectly for the aesthetic enjoyment for the audience of the male cast. Once she has led a man towards discovering the horrifying secret of the photon torpedoes she goes back to being of little importance to the plot. Meanwhile Uhura is off being emotional? I dunno. Does anyone really care at this point? What exactly encourages us to engage with Uhura or care about her as a character besides a sentimental attachment to her original construction in previous Star Trek media? Her utter lack of characterisation or motivation outside of "I'm an emotional woman and I'm incapable of being heroic outside of being lovesick, whereas men are heroic because it is masculine" is boring.

Apparently the writer apologised via and will be mindful in the future. I hope he is, but he is a grown man and should've had the forethought and critical thinking skills to begin with to realise that it wasn't just terribly objectifying, but also really didn't make sense plotwise for her to lead Kirk to a private area where she could have told him to easily leave before stripping. It wasn't some accidental mishap it was obnoxiously intentional. Abrams addressed this on Conan (video can be found here) by debuting a deleted scene of Benedict Cumberbatch having a shower. Abrams justified it by saying it demonstrates how Kirk is a womaniser and this is just giving an opportunity to show off this as well as bring "balance" because he wasn't dressed earlier. Well earlier on in the film, as I've already stated, we see that Kirk has had a one-night stand with not just one, but two sexy women and then later wishes to pick up a woman at a bar. It has already been established that he is the kind of person who does this. Abrams' comment of "editing the scene poorly" to explain why it was so negatively received is irrelevant as the scene, regardless of how it was edited, is unnecessary. Another note on balance: Kirk's sexual prowess is seen as an addition to his character, whereas hers is a defining feature. Kirk is exercising his sexual desires because he wants to and when he isn't intending to be sexual no one treats him or his body as sexual, whereas she has an aura of sexuality imposed upon her constantly, she is never ever seen as a worthy individual or instrumental to the plot without this constant sexual overtone. Even when she is trying to work. She is not defined outside of that whereas Kirk is therefore there is no balance, there is a constant blaring inequality in how characters are being approached and addressed due to their gender. Furthermore, the deleted scene with Benedict Cumberbatch having a shower does nothing to negate this as, for starters, it is deleted, and the top half of a man is not nearly as sexualised as a woman's body. Sure, many women would enjoy it, but it still is merely a few seconds of a man simply standing there, not overtly trying to be sexual. The issue is not that a woman hasn't got clothes on, it is that her clotheslessness is for the sake of arousing the male audience, not adding to the depth of her character. The movie screams "I am constructed around the male gaze and have no recognition of anything I, the director, do not find inherently appealing to my masculinity!"

Fast forward and it is revealed that SPOILERS: Admiral Marcus is evil and plans on killing everyone on board the Enterprise. Carol the rescue! She is his daughter and thus if he knows she's here he won't fire. Well that's why the beaming technology exists... She's captured by her father and her brief attempt to be important simply places her in the position of damsel in distress for Kirk to save. Just like Uhura, when she actually needs to take an active part in the story she serves as a temporary distraction for a man to do something infinitely more useful. In this instance the firing on the Enterprise stops so momentarily for Scotty to mess around in engineering.

Explosions ensue. At this point in the story if you have been watching you should be able to predict everything that happens next, or if not, be able to predict 5 minutes before it happens as the plot progresses. See, the first 2 acts where reasonably solid as far as story goes (though seriously, why put people in a torpedo? You're trying to save them so you put them in something designed to blow up) but now it starts falling apart. By now Bones has randomly injected all of his sample of Khan's blood into a random dead Tribble because... why the hell not? Damn it Jim! Bones is a doctor not a scientist! As seen in the very start, and later explicitly said, Khan's blood has remarkable regenerative properties. It's a wonder drug! So lets put every last drop of it in a dead ball of fur. What Bones hopes to achieve is never explained but it is pretty clear thanks to the opening scene and the conversation between Spock and Spock that there is such intense foreshadowing that someone is going to die and that Khan's blood is the golden elixir that saves the day. It was so utterly predictable that all emotion from the scene was erased. I sat there, as the obvious homage to Wrath of Khan with the hands against the glass (look closely you'll see a continuity error between close ups and mid shots) played out, and quietly laughed to myself. I didn't think "oh, that's sad" I thought "well duh... come on then Spock, how long until you figure out what the solution is? Because we all know it." The most important death scene was funny to me. Let that sink in as a reflection of the quality of that plot device.

So blatantly obvious is this plot progression from here that all suspense is gone, tension is merely boiled down to how long it takes for the next thing to happen, and I could start ticking off narrative elements as listed in any of my screenwriting textbooks. See, I know the basic structure that hollywood plots follow, we all do, me especially considering I've studied them, but normally when watching things they don't blatantly consciously remind me that they're ticking off a checklist of archetypes and plot points laid out by Christopher Vogler in The Writer's Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers.

Well, this predictable shambles of a third act is actually enjoyable despite the obvious resolutions to every conflict. Not all of it is bad. The issue that arises is that Uhura, in her only time to actively do anything of worth, is not an instrument of resolution in any heroic sense as she could be. Using the somewhat nonsensical plot device that you can't beam a person up from a moving surface but you beam them on to one (didn't they beam up Kirk and Spock while they were in freefall in the other Star Trek film? A far faster movement than the non-descript flying metal bricks that Spock and Khan have their final showdown on. Though my father points out that he thought it was interference causing the issue there which a) I don't remember anything about and neither do the people I ask b) even if it were true it still poses a similar issue of being nonsensical that something that affects the beaming technology one way doesn't the other) Uhura interrupts the fight between Spock and Khan, a fight that could potentially have gone Spock's way eventually as all fights between evil and good go, with some last minute bit of ingenuity on Spock's part, and distracts Khan long enough for Spock to get the upper hand. Once again, her use is basically serving as an emotional distraction for men to swoop in and save her after she has deliberately and recklessly endangered herself.

Now some might defend this by pointing out that this is the normal thing in sci-fi because it is inherently seen as a masculine genre, thus this is just a staple of that genre. Well telling me it is ubiquitous doesn't disregard my problems with the misogyny, it merely demonstrates just widespread of a problem it is. See, in recent comic book movies (comic books are a genre considered as pulp fictiony and lower class corny sci-fi as you can get) they have still managed to combine over the top sci-fi action with strong female characters who go outside of their roles as the emotional love interests. The Black Widow and Pepper Pots being two examples of different female characters who play active roles in their plots. Pepper, despite her tendency to be emotional, her shock and alarm at her dangerous surroundings, and inevitable role as the damsel in distress as her position as the superheroes girlfriend, manages to still influence the plot and be instrumental to the resolution of the conflict by overcoming her own damsel status. She is only ever partially reliant on men around her and only at her weakest. Her personality is capable of coming up against Tony Stark's demanding and troublesome ego and walking away smug and superior. Comic books themselves are currently being heavily criticised for their sexism and blatant overtly objectified poses of female characters and yet their film counterparts manage to ascend past this into the realms of respectability and worthwhile well constructed entertainment. There is no restriction of genre that prevents women from being properly, let alone adequately, represented as people. Why then has a franchise, which in its original form, that was so progressive managed to go backwards with age?

It's the kind of movie where all the men involved rush to defend it with "we don't hate women! They're our favourite thing to have sex with!" and it is disappointing. Really, in the end my favourite female character was the overweight black woman with a shaved head who never spoke. Why? Because she is the only female in the entire movie (besides extras in the street) who breaks free of the conventional (read: outdated) idea of what a woman should act and look like. She's not emotional, she's not a love interest, she isn't unnecessarily sexualised, and she sits and does her job, whatever it is (I assume it is important because she is on the bridge). She is a non-skinny black woman with no hair. She is the most progressive representation of a woman in a mainstream movie I've seen in a very long time...

And she is so unimportant she might as well not have been there and there wouldn't have been a difference... because only conventionally attractive people matter to plots in Hollywood. Oh, actually I just remembered there was another girl present who had white hair who also didn't say anything... Women exist. They just don't really matter very much.

Outside of the technical issues, the predictable plot, the lack of resemblance to the original Star Trek, and the incredibly poor representation of women to the point where I got angry enough to write a blog post this long... it is actually a decent movie. Though really, those things annoyed me enough that I don't feel like watching it any time again soon. I would be fine not watching it again ever.

The franchise will survive J.J. Abrams. It will be remade. It will be fixed. One day it will return to its progressive roots. Once again women will be properly represented in sci-fi... have hope Trekkies, this franchise will not end here. Not like this. The uncountable hordes of female fans won't disown this franchise just because of this because they will wish so long and hard for it to return to a state where it does not offend them that they will continue to poor money into it, because that's what a lot nerd culture is made out of... women. Hopefully the Executives and J.J. Abrams will realise this and alter their approach so that the series can improve because right now it is awful.

Saturday, May 25, 2013

There's No Sense of Ending This Semester...

Semester is "over". It doesn't feel over. I have exams which is weird because I don't normally have those for my course, nor do I have multiple at the same time. Even more strange is how this semester didn't end with a bang but a whisper...

See, I've done Film. Now I'm doing English. The difference between these are so immense it is like having grown accustomed to being beaten across the head only to suddenly be handed icecream. One of my teachers complained he thought his class was being lazy, as if they thought that literature was easy and the problem is: to me it is. Hence why, despite him obviously being a hard marker and me handing in my essay late, I did really well on it. What's hard about sitting down and writing an essay? My fingers are practically glued to a keyboard it's not like I even had to do anything but minimise the internet so I could sound intelligent somewhere else.

That sounds really braggy, and I'm sorry. I haven't always been this good at writing essays but I've been doing it for years. I'm halfway through my 4th year at University, I've written so many essays I've lost count. That's why, when suddenly there's no 5am starts to get to a film set for the entire day and being entrusted with several grand worth of expensive equipment, I think "wow. This is relaxing." Because it's something I can do and I can spend time doing it whenever I want. The only pressure that arises during essay writing is when you've started it too close to the due date.

I handed in my assignments while offering those around me chips. I spent a lot of my time on the final submission day hanging around with a friend before I'd actually sat down in a library to finish off my assignments. It was so casual, so stress free, so relaxing and simple and easy and... and...

It feels wrong. It feels horribly, horribly wrong.

I'm sitting around now not doing anything because... today is an average day? It's the day after final assignments are due! I should... celebrate? I should relax and take a break from all the stress? But there isn't one? My expectations have not been met. I did not become a wreck and come out of it triumphant and so sleep deprived that my bed became more important than life itself. There's no sense of... accomplishment.

It didn't challenge me enough so I don't feel accomplished. Now that's an odd first world problem now isn't it? "It wasn't hard enough." Oh waaaa. Waaaa. Boo-hoo.

But come on... you love it don't you? The day after. The excuse to lie down. The relief that floods your bones and loosens your muscles. That mental load you shove off and sigh away. The smile that creeps across your face as you realise it's over. You survived!

I... just... did... things. Does that feel worth it? Is it worth it if I'm not being challenged?

I hope so.

I've got exams, so maybe that will be a challenge? My past experience with University exams is that they're easier than expected. I study tons and then... realise I could've studied less. But I'll do it just in case. I want to have that push to be great. I'm not done being a student, and being a student means I still have things to learn. So I guess I'll start knuckling down, revising the things I learned this semester, and tackle those exams head on.

Then I can get my feeling of a well earned ending.

Thursday, May 16, 2013

I Survived Groovin The Moo 2013

I have the privilege to do volunteer photography at a bunch of music festivals (Southbound, Blues and Roots, and most recently Groovin the Moo) which is a pretty sweet gig. I get to walk around taking photos of people and can walk in and out of the festival thanks to the magic powers of the "STAFF" wristband and there's nothing stopping me from watching bands while I work for a few hours. I don't get paid but I get in for free.

After a bit of a road trip southward bound with friends we arrived at a carpark reserved for staff. There were two cars for the photographers (good ol' carpooling) but only one car would fit because someone had decided that one carpark space was insufficient and deliberately parked partially in two spaces. Naturally my friend wrote "you are a prick" on a piece of paper and put it on the front of the car for them to find. They had to know... they just had to know.

Then we arrived at staff registration where we were told we had to sign a form that said we were only allowed to use a "SRL camera" (unfortunately we had only brought real cameras). I didn't have to start my shift until 2 so I decided to walk around and watch the bands. First up was Foam (aka Nirvana 2: The Return of the 90s) that was led by a dude with hair so long that it looked like he was a mop with legs and a nose who was channeling the voice of Kurt Cobain the best it could. At one point I yelled out "Play Smells Like Teen Spirit!" and the guy next to me laughed. They announced they had one last song, started playing it, then realised they didn't have time and walked off promptly and politely so the band on the stage right next to them could start playing. What fine young lads.

The thing about the crowd at GTM is it isn't 18+ only so you get lots of teens. You've got the 14 year old kid with the 2010 Justin Bieber haircut, the 15 year old groups of girls with braces that clearly have somehow managed to get their hands on alcohol somehow, 16 year old boys on the prowl for hot teen chicks, and whatever other assorted teenage hipster-esque types you can think of thrown in and then segregated from the majority of the adults by a fence that surrounded the bar. As I was watching the rock bands on the triple J stage there was this one adult in a black trench coat, top hat, beard, piercings etc... the kind of serious looking dude you'd expect at a metal concert. He was watching the bands and looking around at all the teens and I could tell in his head he was thinking "I don't belong here... there are way too many kids for my liking... I've made a mistake."

There's something about teen fashion today that looks, to me, like a mixing pot of 60s, 70s, and 90s. There's certain kinds of clothes you could list from each decade and then play bingo with them. I lost count of the amount of blonde girls I saw wearing green cargo jackets. My friend and I were discussing how there were archetypal examples of fashion and how this created this feeling of generic familiarity. We had photographed crowds before and so when looking out at the see of faces it posed the question "do I know that person, or are they just a generic hipster?" As the words left my mouth I pointed to a random individual and then realised... hang on. I DO know that generic hipster! Then I rushed over to say hello.

But back to the fashion. There were all these 15-17 year old girls walking around with tight clothes and denim shorts so short they nearly weren’t shorts at all and I kept looking at these women thinking “Geez… cover yourselves up… it’s really freaking cold. How are you not freezing your nearly visible butts off? I’m wearing multiple layers and I’m cold!” It was ridiculous. How did they not realise that it wasn't summer anymore? Kids these days have no respect for the weather conditions. They party hard regardless.

Doing crowd photography is pretty simple. Stand around with a camera. It is like bait on a hook and if no one bites then simply wiggle the bait... the bait being the camera and the wiggling being asking someone for a photo. Frequently they'll agree, and when nearby people see you doing this they suddenly realise your purpose. You're the camera guy. It doesn't matter that they don't know what exactly your reason is for having a camera because the most important part to them is the fact that you have a camera. Suddenly the relaxing standing around is interrupted by a bunch of teens running up going "can we have a photo!? Can we have a photo!?" Which, of course, they can. It is my job. Then they would demand another one which... OK. You're only getting one uploaded but whatever. Then they thanked me, hugged me, and told me how wonderful I was which was super uncomfortable... who wants a bunch of drunk teenage girls touching them without warning or permission? Thanks? (Fortunately only a few did that but still... ask before you surround a person and embrace them all at once people...)

After taking hundreds of photos we have to sort through them to figure out which ones are acceptable to upload to Murdoch's Facebook page. For instance: any of them with people doing rude gestures are not allowed. At other festivals that sort of thing is pretty easy to avoid but at GTM for some reason teenage guys would see you taking a photo and quickly lean in from the side to give you the finger. Thanks dude? What does that achieve? I'm not taking the photo until you a) go away b) go away. I'm not blind. Anyway, the joy of the sorting process is that I get to sit down with food in front of a laptop (I bought chips. They were really fresh. I could tell because they tasted like dirt...) which just so happens to be in a tent bordered by the DJ stage at the rear of the festival where people uninterested in the real live bands can party hard to dubstep...

Constant dubstep. Constant loud dubstep. With such classic dubstep remixes as: Smells Like Teen Spirit Dubstep, Thriftshop Dubstep, Harlem Shake Dubstep, and Skrillex as Skrillex, remixed to be indistinguishable from Skrillex. BRAWWWAAARAWWUBUWUBUWUBUBUBAAAAAAHHH.

Fortunately this led to fellow friends and photographers sitting around and making fun of dubstep to pass the time. We dug into the clichés, the climactic crescendos and bass drops - everything. That sort of thing is my favourite part of getting into these festivals for free. Not the bands, but the company that I spend my time with. I actually don't know the majority of the bands that play at these things. I go with the intention of taking photos and then maybe finding new bands to listen to based off how much they catch my attention live (Cloud Control is one such band I had never heard of before seeing live and now I quite like them). For me it is a chance to hang out with Uni friends I've known for years and relax as well as go off and see a live show if I so choose.

The night neared its end as I watched The Temper Trap (one of the few bands I knew of and the one I specifically wished to see) perform. As they music played I sung along, my breath flowing out as mist in the cold, being illuminated by the light shining off the stage. I love the end of festivals. The favourite band plays, all the effort of the day seeps away, and I'm there watching, listening, engaging with a performance.

In the end it was fun. Sure, there were things that detracted from it but that's festival life for you. That's the story of my first Groovin the Moo experience.

Advice for High School Students

Dear kids in high school right now...

I have some advice for you. Advice I really wish someone had told me when I was in high school because it is kinda super important. It is about the very point of high school. See right now you're probably procrastinating doing some kind of homework that involves polynomial equations (functions? Something?) or reading some bit of assigned literature you'd otherwise be enjoying if only you didn't have to think about it. And for what? None of this is going to be relevant to your future employment right? You're not learning important things like how to do taxes? Well... yes, true. But does that make it pointless? No.

OK so you are simultaneously blessed and cursed right now because you're in high school and that seems like a difficult concept to grasp but it is true. See you're in a golden period of your life where not doing something you don't want to do has no immediate consequences. I managed to avoid doing multiple assignments, hand things in late, and generally not put in effort for half of my high school life. It's possible to get by without actually engaging properly, and some of you probably feel like doing that. "This isn't immediately relevant or obviously to my future so I don't need to do it." If things are hard you can just scrape by, graduate, and forget everything you ever learned about coefficients and all that other weird maths hoo-hah. I know I can't remember a damn thing about anything number related...

But here's the thing, and I'm putting it as nicely as possible so don't get offended... shut up about it and just do the work.

You heard me. Yes, High school may seem pointless learning a bunch of standardised stuff you really don't care about but that is simply a lack of forethought. I did high school. I survived. I'm out of it now and kinda in the real world. Thing is, the very point of high school is to suck. Yes. High school is designed to suck. That may seem blatantly obvious to you but it sucking is only a means to an end not the end itself. Sucking has a purpose. You are going to be faced with a bunch of horrible, bland, boring, uninteresting, and seemingly pointless hoops and loops to jump through which you don't want to do... and the point is to shut up and do it anyway.

Because that's life. High school is a life simulator. Sure, one day you may just get your dream job and there won't be any hoops to jump through so much as casually stroll past once you get there but until then things will most likely suck. You are inevitably going to be faced with things you don't like, like a difficult essay for a University course you're doing. A course actually designed to get you what you want. The real world requires work and the work isn't always going to be fun.

The grand practical skill given to you by high school is not whatever they are teaching you in class (though one class might appeal to you) but the skill of sitting down and doing something regardless of how you feel about it. I love my University courses, I really do. they're interesting and wonderful and looking back I have certainly learned a lot that I will take with me to a future career... but at times it has been awful, dreadful, and dull and I had to do it anyway to continue onwards to the good stuff... and that is just part of life. If you sit around being entitled and thinking you can cruise through things later on because high school lets you then when you step out into the real world you'll trip and fall face first into the ground. You'll be behind and need to figure out how to catch up, to sit down and work for hours on end despite your problems with the task at hand.

They're teaching you how to study. They're teaching you how to work. If they cannot give you a passion for their subject than at the very least that is the gift you must take away from high school.

So next time your schoolwork sucks remember that it sucks for a reason... and do it anyway.

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Why I Don't Like Running

The answer isn't "because it sucks."

Even though it kinda does.

So in primary school I used to be a lot more active because I was a small child, and small children are like miniature nuclear reactors and if they don't expel copious amounts of energy they explode and kill anyone in a 10m radius. Somehow, despite being like every other kid who runs around, I got fatter than others (I've naturally fixed that now). So despite my efforts not to irradiate my neighbourhood with Smallchildium 245 I just wasn't very good at it. But sometimes things can be fun even if you're not good at them, right? Right.

Well running is compulsory in school. PE classes demand that I embarrassingly participate in sports regardless of aptitude. That would just be a distant unpleasant memory but they didn't just make it compulsory but competitive.

Every year there's a sports carnival where everyone is forced to compete in multiple events and most of all: running. It isn't just a bad class for the entire school, it is a spectator event for everyone's parents to come out and cheer on their kids and film it for prosperity on VHS tapes they've long since stashed away in some chest in the back of the closet along with their only semi-working VHS player they'll uncover one day and relive all the horribly low-quality nostalgia. Thing is, I know I suck. My parents know I suck. My classmates know I suck. Why are you forcing me to show off how much I suck in front of their entire school and their relatives? It didn't motivate me to get better at running, it only made me want to hide whenever it was Sports Day...

Forced competition isn't good for self esteem, especially when you know you're going to lose. See, the only person who really benefits from a school-wide competition is the people who know they're going to win and no one else's parents really need to be there to film it. I suppose you could congratulate the middle kids on their "hard work and effort. It's good that you tried" but when you're so bad and embarrassed in front of hundreds of people "you tried" doesn't give a positive reinforcement about effort it just makes trying seem pointless and leaves a negative association.

I have two 2nd place ribbons. Each one is a slap in the face.

Because an entire year group can't run one on one race track at the same time we had divisions based on skill. I believe I was in E division. That is the worst one. I won those ribbons in year 6 and 7. Coming 2nd doesn't really mean much to a person if there's only two people in the race including yourself (year 6). The next year I one-up'd myself and managed to actually beat someone in a race of 3. Problem is that kid had had heart surgery a few years back... I had only just beaten him.

I don't remember which race it was but at one point I was just so far behind, struggling, tired, and humiliated by the fact that the race had basically finished already and every second I spent running was just another one where every scream and cheer was directed at me. Everyone was looking at me fail and I didn't take it well. I stopped. I couldn't do it. I'd already lost, why even bother to run those last 15 metres?

There wasn't one. I still can't think of a reason.

They didn't let me live that down until I graduated and moved onto highschool where no one remembered it had ever happened.

Competing in general isn't pointless... as long as you have some basic skill in what you're doing. I knew I wasn't good at sports. I had little co-ordination, I wasn't very fit, and I hated doing things in front of others. The idea of enforcing sports into schools is probably now firmly embedded because we're trying to teach kids to be physically active and healthy and that's good... but the way the entire idea is enforced is terrible. It praises the naturally athletic and it humiliates the pudgy and emotionally insecure. Every year I'd be forced to compete. I tried so hard not to be part of it because every single year it just drilled into my brain: you are a loser. Every single one of your peers is better than you. You suck.

Maybe... just maybe... I'd be a fitter person and enjoy sports so much more if only they hadn't forced me to do it in school. Running made me hate myself and gave the other kids a quantifiable measure to make me feel inferior to them.

In highschool these sports carnivals were less enforced. As the years went by I managed to get out of more and more events until I didn't compete at all and took the day as a day off. The less I competed in sporting events I knew I couldn't do well in the more I started liking myself as a person.

I don't hate all sports, even though I generally don't want to do them these days. Team sports were fun because I wasn't singled out and ridiculed. I could participate and it wasn't me losing it was the team losing. No one pointed and laughed me afterwards if the team lost. I didn't have to be good I just needed to contribute. I liked team sports...

But running is one of the worst things that ever happened to me as a child and it took me years to recover from the emotional pain it put me through...

Saturday, April 27, 2013

On Social Anxiety

There's a party happening tonight and I'm invited.

Oh Saturday night... My media consumption has led me to believe that Friday/Saturday nights are the time to go out and have wild social gatherings with music, alcohol, and teaming up with a "wingman" for more one-on-one social interaction later on that night with someone I've just met. There's also this sort of not-so-subtle undertone that if you're indoors by yourself on these particular nights then you're a bit sad. Yeah... not my thing.

But alas, sometimes people end up liking me enough to try and take me away from my comfort zone and into loud places with lots of strangers on the pretense of "birthdays" or "I'm leaving the country and this is the last we'll see each other for at least half a year". Crazy, I know. I guess there's something appealing about my personality that people seem to realise is great in a normal environment but doesn't translate well into ENVIRONMENTS WHERE EVERYONE IS COMPETING TO BE HEARD. So now I have to deal with going places - places I've most likely never been before (there's just so many places to be on a Friday/Saturday night. It's like they're being grown like daisies in a garden that smells a bit more than faintly of beer and vodka shots) which is an added bit of stress because I often (quite easily) get lost. My sense of direction has firmly developed around the idea that I remain stationary.

The problem is people aren't going to stop liking me and inviting me places for birthdays, even if I constantly decline their invitations, because for the other 364 days of the year in our friendship I'm pretty fine to interact with. It's just when it comes to parties I get stressed out. I like one-on-one interaction where I can talk to a person without having to yell over some live one-man cover band that (to his credit) sings things 10+ years old so he can ride the warm waves of nostalgia that he gets back from the audience. Or worse, someone who confuses speed with proficiency and energy with entertainment. Admittedly I am more fine with more familiar faces around me so will gladly go to house parties hosted by highschool friends. It's the parties in pubs that make me panic.

Why... *melts into an anxious puddle on the floor* Pubs are intimidating. They just are. I'm not an anti-social person. I love hanging out with people, interacting with everyone, and crowds aren't an issue. When I go to convention centres the crowds can get so packed that I'm slowly shuffling with people bumping into me from every direction and I'm fine. I also end up talking to 30 different people I know and several I don't just by pure chance.

But pubs are not my friend. There's security within a person's home. You know that, whoever appears, is friend not foe. There's always a corner you can stand in and not be bothered as you judge the playlist (but never tamper with it because that's really rude. Seriously guys. Don't do that. Especially mid-song. That's slap worthy, I was listening to that). There's no social obligations that I don't already understand that I need to do and all that is required to enter is a simple knock on the door. No one checks your ID, there's no awkward standing around uncomfortably scanning the horizon of heads to discover where your band of friends are, there's just a house and it's nice and relaxing. Your voice does not get soar by the end of the night which is also a bonus and there's no risk of running into drunkards in the streets ready to fight.

But I need to go out sometimes... and I might even want to go willingly. After all, some people do end up leaving the country for who knows how long and you need to wish them goodbye. Alternatively they could be an old friend you see once a year at most due to distance. So getting anxious every time I need to leave the door on an adventure somewhere that is loud and unfamiliar won't do.

I'm forcing myself to go tonight because I can think of no better way to tackle this other than head on. Screw being scared! Not to say being scared is for wimps, we all get scared every now and then, (like at all those deadly snakes that live in Australia, all the deadly mammals that live in Australia, or all the deadly spiders than live in Australia. Thank goodness I live in... oh wait) but fear is not what controls us... well, sometimes it does, but not always! The water is always coldest when you're slowly edging in the pool and even though you're always angry whenever that one annoying friend pushes you all the way in when you weren't expecting it you quickly forget your grievances because you get used to the cold. Fear is like swimming, once you dive in and immerse yourself you realise it wasn't as bad as you expected (this does not work if your fear is of drowning because you can't swim... if this is the case then try to think of a different analogy). So I may be uncomfortable now as I sit in front of a computer typing a lengthy blog post to procrastinate going to this party, but I know once I'm there and I familiarise myself with this new place and the new people I'll be OK.

Perhaps I'll even make a new friend.

Perhaps I'll get ganged up on and mugged by 3 deadly snakes, a redback spider, and a kangaroo (those things have mean right hooks) and lose all my money.

Only one way to find out!

*Deep breath*. Time to walk out that door.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Why I Keep Embarrassing Blog Archives

"Once it's on the internet it's there forever" is probably your parents favourite misguided impression of how the internet actually works. See it's only there forever if you're popular enough to have things copied and pasted then stolen and put on 9gag. (I hate 9gag so much for stealing my art but that's another story). See if you're relatively unknown like me, despite having a steady internet presence since 2008, people don't notice or remember thing things you used to do only what you're doing now. Even then not everyone notices. I could delete a lot of this blog and I'm guessing a lot of people wouldn't notice, and even if they did there'd be no way for them to recover those missing posts for their own purposes.

Once they're gone, they're gone. Even for me. Sometimes that's probably for the best... who wants to re-read the poorly spelt sentences that start off with lowercase letters that talk about inane "random" things that my teenage self was interested in? Hopefully no one. But I might one day...

I keep things around. I keep up old videos that I wouldn't dare show any of my friends because I wrote and filmed them when I was 15 years old. I don't tell anyone about my blogs that I have long since disused... but they're there. Floating around in cyberspace, waiting to be seen again by me in the future like old photo albums left in pristine condition. No dust needs to be brushed off, just a few keys to be pressed to be treated to old memories immortalised (until I kill it) in text.

Partly because of the nostalgia value because re-reading an old blog helps me remember some event I'd completely forgotten and it's like discovering buried treasure in my mind. Partly because what I've made over the years is the only good way to really measure my progress as a person.

This blog has changed over the years from personal posts about my day like a diary, to comedic posts designed for no reason outside of quick laughs, to being treated like it does or doesn't have an audience, to tackling big ideas and thoughts as well as the former. My writing has improved, my expression has improved (I hope, though I'm not sure here is where thoughts go to be expressed in their finality but to be drafted and so forgive me if the things I say aren't quite developed) and the themes that I write about in my blog are more diverse. This demonstrates how I've changed intellectually, it also charts my changing interests, how I think differently. Blogs aren't just diaries, they're archives of the development of person.

Even if no one reads this blog I can still come back and cringe over the spelling mistakes and be comforted that because I cringe I have changed into a person who has reason to cringe. I've improved. Each post, whatever it is, is a message in a virtual bottle dropped in the sea of life to be found again one day by the future me so I can read it and remember who I used to be.

I hope future me is happy. Present you is. Past you was a doofus and you probably think present me is too... but you can see I'm getting better. I have to be. One day I'll become you.

Why Does a Monkey Write a Love Song?

So take an ordinary every day situation like say... sitting down and watching TV (or, if you're like me, sitting down and watching Youtube) and then reimagine it with a monkey instead of a person. Or a chimpanzee because they look more human (they're not monkeys but whatever). The monkey isn't acting like a monkey though, they're acting exactly like a human would as if they've been trained and raised by humans to be like humans.

Suddenly that situation is re-examined with new context because the part of it that has agency over that situation - the person - has been changed. It becomes unusual. Absurd. Kinda comical? Because a monkey doesn't need to watch TV. All a monkey really needs to do is acquire food, shelter, and mate. As much as we love monkeys we don't see them as having the same emotional depth or intellectual finesse as we do.

See the point of this exercise is to disconnect from the familiar and re-examine it in an objective context by removing it from the realm of the real, but keep it grounded enough for you to relate to it by having a near human analogue - the monkey. In short: when you replace things with monkeys ordinary situations become strange. It's an exercise in de-familiarization.

Imagine a world run by literal monkeys (none of that "hur hur politicians are like monkeys" nonsense, I mean literally monkeys). A monkey wakes up, put on its tiny monkey shoes, kisses its monkey wife goodbye, and sits in traffic for an hour in a metal box with wheels. Things stop making sense because well... why does a monkey do that? Why doesn't a monkey just get out and go live in a tree?

We hold certain cultural ideas of what we should or should not do. We have traditions. We also have ideas about what is grand, what is amazing, what is deep. We discern between different things as if they have some innate quality despite having no practical value. One piece of art is deep, another is talentless and stupid, and people will disagree continuously. But imagine a monkey sitting in an art gallery looking at art.

Why does a monkey look at art?

Why does a monkey decide it is more important to dress in a suit and tie instead of something comfortable?

Why does a monkey look down on other monkeys for acting differently?

This was all inspired by listening to a love song on the radio. It was deep, it was moving, it had this real heartfelt emotion embedded within the notes within the lyrics as if they very sounds that escaped the singers mouth weren't just words but feelings being transmitted through the air. Then I imagined a monkey sitting in a darkly lit room plucking chords trying to find just the right one to express how it felt and suddenly it was... different. Why does a monkey write a love song? Sure, it wants to mate, but what exactly is it about an acoustic guitar that somehow makes that emotion worth more? As if making it lyrical made it any more important than just outright simple basic "I love you. I want to be with you and it hurts when I'm alone and I think of you." Introducing the monkey removes this human concept of "depth" and strips away any meaning that has artificially been imbued upon that situation due to personal opinion or experience.

I'm not saying we should all re-examine our entire lives and realise some inherent lack of meaning or purpose... because we're not monkeys. That's silly. But it's just fascinating as a thought experiment to look at things through the lens that they're just staged events and the actors are all monkeys. It might be helpful to you somehow. You could be really upset at something and think "why does a monkey get offended at X?" and upon examination realise it isn't important and feel better. Alternatively you might be able to justify it outside of personal in which case you have constructively approached a situation and gone away understanding it better. Or maybe it's just fun to think of Monkeys doing human things...

At any rate it offers you a new perspective on things...

But then again... why does a monkey read a blog post?

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Sleep Deprivation

I don't sleep too well these days and I'm not sure why. Perhaps some deep and thoughtful psychoanalysis could shed some light on this but then again maybe it's the humidity in the air that messes with me.

Being tired constantly is interesting. The feeling of exhaustion isn't this consistent linear thing as it should be. The longer I'm awake the more tired I should be, right? I awaken from naps even more exhausted then before or I'm just sitting there when I gradually become more awake but not more alert. Things stop being a simple tired/awake dichotomy. I feel disconnected and simple things that cause guaranteed endorphin drips in my brain don't mean anything to me anymore. Tumblr stops being an endless scroll of mindless entertainment (combined with some in depth critical analysis, media theory, and feminist ideology in bite sized pieces of witty criticism on rape culture and patriarchy etc, let's not completely downplay Tumblr as entirely mindless) and it becomes... well it becomes a website. And what is a website? It's an image on an LCD screen. At its core it becomes black text on a blue background and what is the appeal of that...

I'm not addicted to anything when I'm tired. I'm free to whatever because I'm so disconnected from the world around me. My perspective changes on everything. Attachment dissolves and is replaced with a fresh attitude to everything and I realise that I'm sitting in front of a box due to routine... I don't actually care while I'm tired because my brain doesn't give me its all-natural-self-medicated happiness when it wants to switch off for a few hours.

I don't feel like I'm interacting with the world properly anymore. It's like I'm not quite there anymore. I feel things but I feel more inwardly if that makes sense... as if my experience is this insular bubble that is partially cut off from the world and the things around me have to seep in to make a proper impact on me. I'm floating around on different kinds of surfaces that don't matter as long as they're solid.

I have no motivation to do things because they require me to put more effort into them than I'm capable of exerting. I sit and think in fragments, in thoughts that lack words, an abstract drone of sleep deprived thought processes I quickly forget...

When there's no distinct feelings, no strong attachment to the world around me, that's when I feel my own presence. I sit there just sitting and existing.

If I don't sleep for long enough it is like meditation on the self. My mind empties... and all that is left is the fact that I exist.

I really need to sleep.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

My Plan to Date Taylor Swift

We all know that Taylor Swift loves her break up songs. If she ever got into a successful marriage her music career would be over until the divorce and then BAM! Straight back up the charts. Do you ever wonder what he ex's think of having a song about them? Do they feel a little bit of prestige? Like "yeah, that song on the radio is about me. I'm just that important." They might feel a bit insulted because they're being shown in a negative light in a song but for me I'd find it hilarious... I'd love it. I wish I could break up with Taylor Swift just so I could get a song about me.

Well I was listening to Taylor Swift on the radio when I heard her latest song...

You don't know about me but I bet you want to - 22 by Taylor Swift.

That's when it hit me... how to date Taylor Swift is simple: pretend you have no idea who she is. See she has a lot of fans (well, duh) so approaching her and telling her you enjoy her music won't distinguish you at all. Sure, it's a nice compliment, but it is generic. What I would do is approach her like any other girl (actually I'm too shy to approach girls but let's pretend I have both the charm and social life to confidently walk around bars) with this sweet sense of sincerity like I only want to talk and I'm expecting to part ways at the end of the night with the intention of seeing them later to get to know them better (because that's how I roll. Forming strong emotional bonds over time - awww yeah). I'd maybe thrown in a nice pick up line, not a cheesy one - something to start a conversation.

I'd see how long the conversation could go on before I have to introduce myself. Maybe buy her a drink first, (this hypothetical situation takes place in a bar or club, like her song 22. It makes no sense but ssshhh, this is a fantasy so let me have it) basically just treat names as unimportant compared to talking about things, but when I do introduce myself I only say "My name is David" - no last names. The idea being it'll encourage her to reply Taylor instead of her full name. That bit isn't too important because I can always pretend the name drop means nothing to me because I don't listen to the radio *cough* hipster *cough* total lie...

Anyway... so that's phase one. Get to know her by pretending I know nothing about her. I'm basically assuming her ego would find someone who hasn't heard of her fascinating instead of insulting and going for the angle that distancing myself from the hectic spotlight of fame. What a relief to find someone who isn't mobbing her, or living such a busy life that they'd have their own pressures that divide so many celebrity relationships. I'm suddenly the charming sweet everyman... the simple ideal, an innocent soul, this cute little lamb who didn't adore her for her fame but for her smile...

*Quick chortle*

Ok so imagine this worked and I'm dating Taylor Swift now. (SHUT UP IT'S TOTALLY PLAUSIBLE AND MEANT TO BE).

I want a song... and I want to know it is specifically about me. How do I distinguish myself? Well I need a few quirks, something idiosyncratic to really define myself...

So that's why I'll leave her jigsaw pieces here and there... little surprises in the morning when she wakes up to find a fresh cup of coffee and pancakes by her bed...

And a jigsaw piece.

At first this is cute and endearing. Bit weird, but whatever. They don't seem to make anything because none of them connect together and she starts wondering what it is. What wonderful surprise will it inevitably display once I had gone through all the jigsaw pieces? What more mystery and intrigue can this oddly unique everyman hold? Will it just be a big love heart and make her go awwww after she's collected the final piece on some anniversary?

Well let's assume the relationship goes south eventually because I'm actually a terrible manipulative human being (as demonstrated by THIS ENTIRE BLOG POST) and she is starting to get bored of the everyman as I'm just... a normal person with nothing special. She's too busy, she's got a new album to work on, and I'm just in her way... I just keep giving her jigsaw pieces and she doesn't have time for this quirky game anymore so she just leaves them there as I place more and more, not even accompanied by a sweet gesture of breakfast or a nice sweet "You make me happy" card, they're just there.

Jigsaw puzzle pieces everywhere.

The relationship ends.

My last act is giving her the rest of the pieces as I leave. After a bitter and lonely post-break up moping session she decides to start putting together this once incomprehensible puzzle as she looks up in a rhyming dictionary what rhymes with "jigsaw" (maw, claw, buzzsaw, chainsaw, hacksaw, handsaw... "I should've known, I should've foresaw, that you wouldn't be right for me, when you gave me a jigsaw...") and what does she see?

A scary clown.

And that's how I will know her first single "Jigsaw" from her new album will be about me and only me and I will laugh maniacally about it every time it's on the radio.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Dear Every Employer Ever

*kicks down your door* I'm awesome!

Don't bother scrambling to escape through the window this interview is ON so hard right now whether you want it to be or not. So what are your first basic questions? Why do I want to work here? I sure as hell don't care about this place! I don't even know the name of this store! Heck, all I care about is that A4 sheet of paper someone has haphazardly stuck to the window outside that says in bold print "workers wanted". It is the beacon to my kind: the overlooked unemployed arts students.

Sit down. I said no escaping.

Why then am I forcing this interview on you if I don't care about whatever your establishment is? (I literally did not know it existed until I passed it just then and started breaking your office) Because MONEY. I want your money - no you can put your hands down I'm not robbing you, I'm an employee. That's all I care about. Fun experiences, great team ethic, new whatevers and all that jazz is BS. You and I both know that no one is really pumped to apply to places that say "great team environment!" Seriously, how many excited blog posts do you read that go "oh man, Coles! I'M SO EXCITED TO APPLY TO COLES! I HOPE I GET A JOB THERE BECAUSE I'LL BE PART OF A TEAM!"? Well, this one now if you take that out of context. Nah man, no one cares... I'm not saying that I'm against people (I haven't worked long enough in retail to despise the human race but please don't hold my naivety against me) or working with them, I can do that. I am so up on this team stuff. I'm a film major - literally nearly everything I do involves teams.

Money money money. Put your money in my bank account where it belongs. But don't take this attitude to mean I'm cynical and won't really care about the work you give me. No no! I'll do it! I'll do it gladly. You're, after all, paying me. I like that. I like you, even if you are a bit sweaty with fear right now. Shhh... shhhh... the more you struggle the longer it takes. If you are under the impression that anyone else working for you has any other aspirations other than to take your money then you're quite deluded. People don't go to work to have fun, they go to work so they can afford fun when they're not working.

Do I have to strap you in? I brought duct tape. Don't yell out for help or I'll use it. Don't think I'll run out either, I have half a dozen rolls of this stuff. Why you ask? Shut up I'm being interviewed. Damn managers don't know how to conduct an interview these days.

What skills can I bring to the table? What skills do you need? Tell me, what fascinating special training do I really need for this job? What makes your food servicing place or trinket selling store so unique? I nearly have 2 degrees! You run the kind of business that hires teenagers! The skills I bring to you are my own two hands. Now don't knock them before you've hired them... these hands... let me tell you the things these hands can do...

OK that makes you look uncomfortably aroused. That didn't go as planned.... awkward.

You don't need me to have years of experience (which I don't seem to be getting despite my hard efforts of forcefully strapping managers down to their furniture and berating their businesses) you need spare hands and a friendly face. I can do that. Look, I'm smiling! What's wrong? Is there something off putting about my smile? Not enough teeth? I can gain extra teeth, don't you worry... After you I'm applying for a dentist job.

I can do that! I can deal with customers. Swipe the thing, take their money, give them the thing. Repeat. Be nice. Don't eat anyone. Make food. Give food to people. Shelf empty. Put more of thing on shelf. See? Jobs are simple... So why won't you give me one? I'm sick of not getting an interview, not getting a call back, not even a chance to explain that the 2 pages of past experience doing things, higher education, general list of skills and interests (all filtered down to fit instead of flooding you with details) does not define me. It doesn't even begin to reflect my determined outlook on the world, on my job, on any task given to me. You see the word "determined" on a piece of paper, that means nothing... A resume is pointless. It lacks personality no matter how it tries. I know I sound cynical about this all, like jobs are just the equivalent of training monkeys to push or lift things... but it comes from never being given a chance to demonstrate that I can do that job... if only someone out there would put that little bit of faith in me over that cheaper option of a 15 year old with no experience and the maturity of... a 15 year old. Just one interview would be nice... one that doesn't involve crying. Come on, it's not like you're never going to see your family again... stop sniffling.

Oh, sorry... how rude of me. I've been standing up all this time without taking a chair... and look at the time, I must be off. I've stapled my resume to your pants, just so you won't forget about it or throw it in the bin without reading it first (I think it happens a lot, hence why no one ever calls me back).

*smashes the window*

Oh shut up, you'll get this chair back later. I'm only taking it until I get a job... It's not like I can currently afford furniture anyway...

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Congratulations to Dan Howell

Youtube has this section where it recommends youtube channels and shows you in small writing that they have about 457K subscribers as if this is incentive. My youtube recommendations have been pretty much stuck consistently on AmazingPhil, Tom Milson, Danisnotonfire, Albinwonderland and for some reason the IBA Bodyboarding World Tour. I refresh and it is the same. Youtube insists that I should subscribe to these people. Just do it. Do it. Hurry up. You don't like entertainment, huh, punk? Think your videos are more entertaining?

Dick.

Well persistence pays off because I decided to finally check out Danisnotonfire... once I noticed that the little numbers under his name had read 999K. Whoa. Nearly at 1 million? That's a massive achievement and not many people have reached this mark. It's so fancy that Youtube literally gives you a gold trophy for getting there. So obviously thanks to peer pressure and the prestige of watching someone reach such an impressive milestone I decided to watch his videos for the rest of the day deciding whether or not he was worth subscribing to.

The thing is I pretty much knew I wanted to subscribe only a few videos in... but he was slowly and steadily climbing to 1 million... So naturally the thought occurred to me "What if I could be the 1 millionth subscriber?" The pace was gradual enough to be predictable. I would constantly refresh to check on the progress in between watching videos. I'd be lying... waiting... with ninja precision that I would attempt to channel from the nearest avid ebay buyer who likes to snipe with 30 seconds left on the bid.

It was taking longer than expected. But then... then... 11pm came (+08:00 from GMT) and he was intensely close. I readied myself, 11:19pm came. I refreshed. 999,998! GO! GO! SUBSCRIBE! I pounced on the button knowing someone would subscribe in the time it took for my mouse to move those pixels across the screen.

REFRESH. WILL I SEE A VICTORY SCREEN?

1,000,027!!!

NOOOOO! So close!

I refreshed again and it had jumped to 1,000,052! In fact in the past 11 hours it has gone up by over 3000. It took him 6 hours to go up nearly 700 before!

It was then I realised the unfortunate truth that the prestige of being the 1 millionth subscriber (an honour that went so someone many months ago due to closed accounts and people unsubscribing) was not a goal solely for me but for many, possibly hundreds... at one point the subscriber count went down momentarily when it was getting close as if people were unsubscribing just so they could re-subscribe at the opportune moment. That's why it was barely going up and then just on the brink- BAM! SHOT UP!

The lucky #1 million is lost in a flurry of emails and intensely close time signatures. It is impossible to tell who the victor is and they themselves don't know either. Oh well.

It is time to remember that being a subscriber is not about a sense of personal achievement. It is to show that you care about the content that someone has spent the time making and wish to engage with this content. Danisnotonfire is a brilliantly funny and talented vlogger and I am glad that I am now a watcher and that's all that matters...

But damn I was so close...

Monday, February 4, 2013

Bad Bands and Fringeworld

I went into Northbridge on a Saturday night (this is often the start of a tragic story, and admittedly it does end with security manhandling two people by grabbing the hair on the back of their heads, but that's besides the point) to film a live band performance. This starts off with me standing outside of the place feeling awkward, having arrived what I thought as late only to discover that the place isn't even open yet... Well the rest of the crew arrives (I was just a cameraman so knew very little) and we get to walk in first instead of waiting in line because we need to set up. I felt vaguely important. Not very, just slightly above the base level of undistinguished customer.

The band plays. We record it. Things go fine. I started off doing a master wide, and we switched cameras and positions through the performance. Then we sat down, a job well done (I hope) to relax and a friend of a friend convinces us to stay for the next band. So we do.

The band starts. Instantly I don't like it. To best describe the playing style I would use words like "demisemiquaver", "banging", and "epilepsy". It is an assault on the ears. It is the most energetic thing I've heard since Dragonforce and I'm busy watching the keyboardist's hands blur with speed as he bangs out chords then does some intense arpeggios. It all blurs into noise with no distinct melody to me. At one point they yelled into a microphone. No lyrics... just outright screeching it seemed. Wow.

Thing is we're sitting right next to the stage so we're right next to the speakers. It's so loud my pants are noticeably vibrating and it is almost impossible to yell at people nearby to have conversation. I decide to type messages on my phone and hand my friend the screen so he can read it. Despite the obvious frantic energy exploding off the stage I am intensely inanimate. My hands placed firmly on my camera bag. With not even a twitch of facial expression my head rotates, Terminator style, to my friend sitting next to me... and slowly shakes back and forth.

I pick up my phone and type "no." He reads and laughs. The noise continues to assault my ears. I type something new. "NO."

Listening to the song seemed to drag on forever. During it I would occasionally make snide remarks about their performance. The notes were played so fast and everything was so loud that I typed a new message: "How do they know if they've played a note wrong?" for all I knew they weren't playing their songs right at all but were just playing them at the right speed. A speed I must admit is quite impressive and their technical skill alone is quite reasonable... but speed does not make a musician.

"I should get my Nana to listen to this..." I remarked at one point.

After a few of these jibes at the band and what I considered to be one of the worst things I'd listened to in a very long time the friend of a friend who convinced us to stay leaned over and told me she was dating one of the band members...

See this is the kind of awkward moment where in sitcoms the main character tries to backtrack and go "well, no I'm only kidding, they're not THAT bad... I like their uh... (insert something here)". I don't care that this may have been a really awkward moment.

"I don't retract my statements..." I said before going back to watching with mild entertainment. See the thing is they were so bad that I found it funny to watch. They were so into this performance that I thought it was comical...

"Though on the bright side, he has very strong fingers..." I remarked. She nodded.

"That is a very good thing."

See turns out she wasn't offended at all by this. She actually agreed with me to an extent that the song they were playing wasn't very good. (Though I doubt she hated it as much as me. I really did despise it and would've walked away after 5 seconds if it weren't for the fact that my friends weren't moving and after a while I thought it was so bad it became funny). It turns out that it was their early work. Then they started playing something new AND SUDDENLY IT WENT FROM AWFUL TO GOOD!

ACTUALLY REALLY ENJOYABLE SORT OF THING I WOULD DELIBERATELY LISTEN TO! They turned into this sort of Post-Rock instrumental sort of thing. It was awesome. I stopped digging into them quietly and started actually sincerely enjoying. I have avoided using names in case anyone involved finds this and gets offended by anything I've said though I don't actually remember the name of the band so couldn't tell you that if I wanted to... But yeah. They had one really bad song that was just really long, and then got better.

Well then we went walking around the city, ate at a Chinese restaurant, then went to Fringeworld. There was much sitting around and talking then watching as a bunch of security guards got into place to surround this drunk that was lying on the ground so he couldn't run. They told him to get up, they started grabbing him and his friend tried to intervene to tell them not to be rough and they held them both by the back of their hair saying something about trespassing... Spectators interfered and security got angry at them but released the two guys and told them to leave. I left after that. After all, it isn't a night out in Northbridge until some drunk gets man handled by security. When I walked out the guy was arguing with the security guard outside of the premises about something from a distance probably telling them off for their treatment of him as he wasn't even resisting... he was just slow to obey. Though he seemed hesitant to leave after they'd released their grip as he was angry and had some point to prove.

So that was a bit unfortunate but I was just a random observer and not sure of the entire context so couldn't comment further.

Add this to my list of nights I've gone out into the horror of Northbridge and come back intact.

Saturday, January 12, 2013

I Don't Understand Youtube Copyright

Their guidelines aren't very helpful.

OK so it seems simple right? Don't use copyrighted material in your work. OK. Simple.

So a while ago I monetized my videos - not due to any misguided impression that I could make any money off them but because Youtube kept bugging me to do so because it... likes me? A robot wanted fresh ad space? Well I had a few videos up which I generally had avoided anything that wasn't %100 mine with a few exceptions which weren't so blatant as to set off sirens deep in the offices of Google's offices. COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT! COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT!

In my video Eric Roberts Thinks I'm pretty I have an image of The Master from the Doctor Who movie and a still from The Dark Knight to show the audience who he is. That's apparently fine despite me not being from Fox or Warner Brothers. Fair use?

Another video called A Day in the life of an Aspiring Author had nyan cat playing in it as well as The NaNoWriMo Song by ALL CAPS which I appropriately credited in the description. The cool thing about DFTBA records is some artists allow you to use their stuff in your videos as long as the other elements of that video are your original work and you credit them with a link back to their website. I did that, but I don't think that means I'm allowed to use the work for commercial purposes so despite Youtube saying "yeah make money off this!" I was like "Whoa! No. I have to un-monetize this. Surely that's not allowed."

So Youtube seemed to be pretty lax when it came to enforcing what I perceived Copyright Law to be. This was all uploaded prior to me monetizing my videos so they all were monetized by default (after some amount of review) when I became a partner. All subsequent videos are reviewed upon upload.

Then I uploaded a video with my Furby in it and that was a big no. Can't do that. OK so I'm assuming that's because I don't own the Furby logo and the sounds it makes right? Well my wall is covered in copyrighted images of posters. My shirts have Comic Book characters on them with tiny TM symbols on them. I've used a sonic screwdriver in one of my videos and I didn't own that noise (I think, or was that my other channel?) How particular am I meant to be here about what gets displayed? Because when it comes to making films at Murdoch they won't allow ANY FORM OF LOGO OR TRADEMARK. We cannot show brand names on our clothes, when filming cars we need to frame out things like "TOYOTA" and if we get anything accidentally in there we either have to reshoot or go into After Effects to blur it out frame by frame.

Then I uploaded something with about 2 seconds of robot noises and that was also not allowed to be monetized. What kind of complicated program would they be using to figure out if that robot noise wasn't mine? It wasn't, but from where I had got it I got the impression it was OK to use. Once youtube said no you can't make money off this video I won't really argue with them. It's really not important seeing as I don't make a living off this (or... anything really).

OK so I'd gone from being able to use parts of songs to not being allowed to use short sections of robot noises. Next up was a short video where I used static noise which I believed was under the Creative Commons License attribution 3.0 (I'm starting to actually research copyright things now) which I was under the impression made me free:


  • to copy, distribute, display, and perform the work
  • to make derivative works
  • to make commercial use of the work


Under the condition I credited the original author, which I had.

Now I might be able to go click on a button that proves that this means I can use it... or it might be because I quoted song lyrics in it "Shake it like a polaroid picture" repeatedly. It was just one line though, even if it was repeated. And I got away with part of a song with music earlier? And popular youtuber DailyGrace uses copyrighted music occasionally and doesn't credit it but she can still make money off videos like SEXY 911 PHONE CALLS. (I've seen it with and without pre-roll ads and I'm not sure if this varies from view to view or just means it is no longer monetized?) I see in the comments fights about this about copyright vs fair use and frankly I wouldn't trust a Youtube comment section as a reliable source of information even if the discussion was about how annoying Youtube comments sections are. It has taught me nothing.

The impression I get is that I clearly don't understand copyright. That or Youtube is a bit selective in what it does or doesn't allow based off how popular you are. Though it seems a bit petty to try and blame favouritism on this so I'm going to go with the very obvious and objectively true thing that: I just don't seem to get copyright. It is not as simple as I had previously believed it to be.

I don't really care that I'm not making a whole 21 cents on these videos that aren't allowed to be monetized (besides the Furby one, which would've made probably at least $8 by now probably. Wow, big bucks), but it kinda annoys me whenever I see that tiny ! symbol next to my video that goes "YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" Because there's a thing saying "Copyright strikes" and right now it's green but it kinda weighs on me this idea that all this tiny little stuff ups aren't making me look all that great... like I'm some sneaky little vlogger trying to fool Google into giving me money I don't deserve by trying to sneak little copyright things in. Mwahahaha. No. No I'm not trying to get away with making money off other people's things, I'm just not entirely clear on the differences between what I can or cannot use commercially and the fact that they don't give you a reason when they deny your monetization request doesn't help me figure it out.

Is it because they don't believe that static noise is really Creative Commons? Is Creative Commons different in US than it is in Australia? Or is there an issue with the quoting of lyrics? Is that fair use? Is it allowed under use for the purposes of critiquing or reviewing the original work? Each online institution seems to have a varying harshness to their restrictions... Should I bother to try and get my latest video monetized on principal of understanding copyright better despite it not actually making money? Hmmm.

Hmm. I wish they'd taught us more about this at Uni... I never thought I'd be so interested in properly researching Copyright law.

Friday, January 11, 2013

Wow I'm Unobservant...

As a film student/content creator on Youtube I've done my fair share of editing. I usually edit my own stuff. Editing involves reviewing the same footage over and over and over again continuously, tweaking this, tweaking that, rearranging it, watching it back to see if it flows right, wait what's wrong woops I did that bit wrong I need to tweak it some more. And so something short can take a long time to make properly and by the end you'd think I'd know the footage better than the back of my hand.

Well, sometimes yes. (Also word of advice: if you ever edit a music video... DON'T make it to a song you really enjoy because by the end you would've heard it 300 times on repeat and will loathe it.) But sometimes I miss things.

For a film I made in highschool there was a scene where the character (played by me, because I'm a man of many trades and little friends to do things for me) walks onto the road and gets hit by a car. It was the biggest thing I'd embarked on so far, took ages, required a lot of editing, and so I proudly showed it off to the class to see what they thought. The character gets hit by a car and someone goes "what happened to his jacket?"

...

Wait... what? Turns out there was a massive continuity error where in one shot he's wearing a jacket, and in the next he's not. Which meant I had to reshoot the scene. I somehow hadn't picked up on this despite watching it several dozen times over and over.

*face palm*

This complete lack of observance of what's actually happening in frame in the aim of making sure the footage fits properly still continues. For instance my latest youtube video I briefly mention the idea that "shaking it like a polaroid picture" is as widespread a myth as a duck's quack doesn't echo.

Problem is I said "a duck's echo doesn't quack"

...*double face palm*