Sorkin's Society?

One of my favourite writers, Aaron Sorkin gave the commencement address to students at his Alma Mater, Syracuse last week. While there is no doubt that this forum provided Sorkin with the opportunity to embellish many of his stylistic cadences, which divide critics in equal measure the speech is worth commenting upon for a number of reasons.

This speech is the essence of Sorkinesque writing: a patriotic, hopeful, naive diatribe. In fact much of the speech he has used before a number of times. However, it is those qualities that provide a source of motivation to this writer. Perhaps the thing that infuriates the public most about Sorkin's writing is that he has higher expectations for society than it does for itself?

It is no coincidence that the current President of the United States is often compared to the one which Sorkin created for The West Wing. The difference is obvious though, Josiah Bartlett was never subjected to public scrutiny, for if he were he would have mostly likely been impeached during his first term of office. These days, the more progressive political operatives quote Bartlett from the passages of Sorkin’s many teleplays instead of Marx. Those brought up on episodes of The West Wing rather than pages of Robert A. Caro or David Day live in a vacuum where politics is a noble game and minds can be changed with five pages of dialogue, rather than through proper policy formulation. The end result is that politics becomes a circular exercise: people become aspirational pawns in the political process, once their desires cannot be met, they quickly figure out that there is a massive gap between the Sorkinesque view of the world and the actual one we inhabit. Rather than finding a leader who conforms to real world expectations, society says the system is broken, and then tries to find another leader of the same type. Society then begins anew destined to repeat the same mistakes.

Among Sorkin’s closing paragraphs of the commencement speech, he propagates his world view as if he were Sam Seaborn himself: 

Develop your own compass, and trust it. Take risks, dare to fail, remember the first person through the wall always gets hurt.

Don’t ever forget that you’re a citizen of this world, and there are things you can do to lift the human spirit, things that are easy, things that are free, things that you can do every day. Civility, respect, kindness, character. You’re too good for schadenfreude, you’re too good for gossip and snark, you’re too good for intolerance—and since you’re walking into the middle of a presidential election, it’s worth mentioning that you’re too good to think people who disagree with you are your enemy. Don’t ever forget that a small group of thoughtful people can change the world. It’s the only thing that ever has.

Of course there is nothing wrong with this view if you are a wide eyed optimist who believes that the power of words is enough to change minds. I was such a person once. However, the more I hear Sorkin’s words, the more I believe that he is just simply a great storyteller on a quest to find a fictional utopia.

The Goal

“I just want someone, who wants to hang out all the time, and thinks I’m the best person in the world, and wants to have sex with only me.” - Hannah, Girls.

Inward and Inaccurate

Last night's Fabian Society Forum on how and why the ALP lost the 2012 Queensland State Election highlighted how insular the party is in times of reflection. The forum’s three participants included ALP State Secretary and Campaign Director, Anthony Chisholm, Former Bligh Government Minster Cameron Dick and the Queensland Political Editor of The Australian, Sean Parnell.

Chisholm was in a remarkable position last night. Despite being the architect of the worst loss in the Queensland ALP's history, he still has his job. Chisholm’s contribution to the proceedings was always going to be the most intriguing of the night. Unsurprisingly, he blamed the government’s decision to privatise state owned assets for the ALP’s electoral wipe out. ‘We never recovered… he said. Everyone is connected to the railways in regional Queensland, and the ALP misjudged the electoral climate…’ was his admission when I questioned him later about whether he could have anticipated any backlash to those sales. There were no strategic measures in place to counter the negative reaction to asset sales. 'The LNP and the unions got out in front on the issue’, Chisholm opined. Consequently the ALP turned negative during the election campaign and focused their attention on Campbell Newman. According to internal party polling this strategy was working (Apparently) right up until the moment Anna Bligh said (in the last ten days of the campaign) that there was ‘no evidence…’ that Newman had participated in any illegal activity, despite claiming in Parliament that he had done so. Remarkably, the polls returned to their original state of Labor oblivion immediately after this admission (!). The moral of Chisholm’s argument: ‘When in doubt blame Bligh.’

This theme continued for much of Cameron Dick’s speech, clearly using his speech to position himself as the non-existent alternative leader of the ALP. Comparing himself to Chifley in the 1930s, (when the former PM lost his seat in Federal Parliament, and was on the wrong side of the New South Wales split) Dick took the soft, gutless option of blaming Bligh and her Deputy Andrew Fraser. Despite being a high profile member of Cabinet and being a high profile advocate of the asset sales, the former Minister chastised his former boss by constantly questioning her abilities as leader, and in particular saying the ALP lacked ‘strong and effective leadership.’ In 2039, I wonder if we will see such words in writing when the Cabinet minutes are released into the State’s archives? It is interesting that Dick attempted to portray himself as a modern day Chifley, because all he succeeded in doing was to demonstrate that solidarity, a hall mark of the Chifley era, has no place in the Modern ALP.

Parnell, on the other hand demonstrated his analytical skills with a cogent unpacking of the last four years of Queensland politics. Whilst also criticising Bligh as being decisive but lacking necessary political skill, he hit on the key point of the Bligh era: The Government over promised and under delivered. Contrasting this maxim to that of her predecessor’s Peter Beattie, Parnell highlighted the hall mark of his term as Premier by saying ‘Beattie delivered on what he promised during the election campaign and only deviated from these when responding to immediate crises’.

The three speakers each encapsulated the current malaise of Labor, not just in Queensland, but also around the country: strategic incompetence, policy objectives taking a backseat to internal Machiavellian supremacy, and a tin ear when assessing the public’s expectations. All three speakers highlighted the asset sales as the turning point towards the death of Bligh Labor. And yet none of them were able to answer the most basic question of the night. Why sell the assets at all? I still doubt whether Chisholm, Bligh, or her team of incompetent advisors know the answer to that.

The Linkage, Volume I, 2012

I work, I eat, I shower, that’s it. Occasionally I take a dump, just as a sort of treat. I mean that really is my treat. I sit there and I think—no, I'm not gonna read the New Statesman, this time is just for me. This is quality time just for me.

Hugh Abbott: The Thick of It

For much of the last two months I have been working on the PhD thesis from hell on a constant basis. I did 12 drafts of the second chapter and it took a year to it get right. So now that I am as healthy as I’m going to get I have either been focusing on my work, or trying to get out and explore new things. This hasn’t left much time for substantive blogging (In short, I really hate the NDIS, and I really need to get laid). So with that in mind, here are some things that have got my wheelchair motors running over the past six weeks.

1. This amazing performance of It’s a Man’s, Man’s World by American Idol contestant Joshua Ledet
2. The new HBO series Girls created and written by the wonderfully talented Lena Dunham. I want her to be my next girlfriend, I would also like this to be arranged post haste, please.
3. This except of the third volume of Robert A. Caro’s biography of former US President Lyndon Johnson which chronicles the events before, during and immediately after the 1963 Kennedy assassination.
4. An old but great clip of Jimmy Fallon and Stephen Colbert singing Rebecca Black’s Friday with an array of special guests
5. To close, here's my favourite song this week

Credibility?

What happens when you have little credibility?

My very vocal detractors may argue cogently that I have absolutely none to begin with. To them I’m just an upstart with a loud obnoixious voice trying to get attention and noterity. Especially those who claimed they have won after the piss weak announcement in this week’s budget. Let’s look at the facts, with thanks to Vern Hughes from the Physical Disability Australia Facebook Group

The federal budget committed $1 billion to the NDIS over the next four years: 

Beginning with $84 million in 2012-13 

Rising to $363 million in 2015-16.


Only one third of this is for care and support for people with disabilities. 



• $53 million is to set up the National Disability Insurance Agency (NDIA).

• $155 million is to employ local co-ordinators for the NDIA.

• $250 million is to build an IT system for the NDIA "to measure the performance of the new arrangements"
• $123 million is "to prepare the disability sector to deliver services in new ways."

• $17 million is for "research and development"
• $59 million is for assessments of people with a disability to determine their eligibility. 



This breakdown of spending, and the prioritisation of management functions over care and support, is absolutely predictable. It fits perfectly the priorities of the industry representatives who form the NDIS Implementation Task Forces.


• $0 for education and training of people with disabilities and their families in self-direction.

• $0 for an IT system for people with disabilities and their families to use and to manage their supports and services.

• $0 for research and development for innovations for people with disabilities  and their families.

• $0 for development of a retail market for people with disabilities and their families to access and to choose the services they want based on transparent price and quality data.

And instead the public are exposed to this ill-informed piece of crap by Wendy Harmer who thinks people with disabilities should be ‘happy’ and we should ‘cheer’ for this miserable excuse of a policy. This comes from a woman who will not have her fate determined by the effects of this policy for the rest of her life.

I realise that I am in the very severe minority here, but I feel like I am one of the few who can see the absolute obvious here. Why can’t more people see it? I cannot tell you how much it frustrates me.  Every time I voice my objections, I’m the one who gets painted as having no credibility because the majority has group think.

So what will it take to get some credibility? Finishing my PhD? Becoming a celebrity and pimping myself out? Becoming one of the useless people who get put on these pointless advisory groups?

And then I think ‘Fuck it, I’m done with this disability policy shit, I want to have fun, try to form a decent relationship with someone I love and develop my academic career.' And then it hits me like a punch in the guts.

If I give up on the policy shit, the person who loses out the most is me.

And then I remember why I hate being a cripple.

Indoctrination At A Young Age

I have just finished re-watching The Last Days of Disco. This underrated movie contains a favourite exchange of mine, that is worth reposting.


CHARLOTTE: Saturday, I took my niece, who’s seven, to see the Disney movie Lady and the Tramp. She loved it! It was so cute. I’m beginning to fall in love with the whole idea of having kids.

ALICE: I hate that movie.

CHARLOTTE: What?

ALICE: It’s so tacky. Not to mention depressing.

CHARLOTTE: This sweet movie about cute cartoon dogs you found depressing?

JOSH: There is something depressing about it, and it’s not really about dogs. Except for some superficial bow-wow stuff at the start, the dogs all represent human types, which is where it gets into real trouble. Lady, the ostensible protagonist, is a fluffy blonde cocker spaniel with absolutely nothing on her mind. She’s great looking but, let’s be honest, incredibly insipid. Tramp, the love interest, is a smarmy braggart of the most obnoxious kind. An oily jailbird, out for a piece of tail, or whatever he can get.

CHARLOTTE: Oh, c’mon.

JOSH: No, he’s a self-confessed chicken thief—an all around sleaze ball. What’s the function of a film of this kind? Essentially it’s a primer on love and marriage directed at very young people; imprinting on their little psyches the idea that smooth talking delinquents, recently escaped from the local pound, are a good match for nice girls from sheltered homes. When in ten years, the icky human version of Tramp shows up around the house, their hormones will be racing, and no one will understand why. Films like this program woman to adore jerks.

DES: God, you’re nuts!

JOSH: The only sympathetic character, the little Scotty who’s so loyal and concerned about Lady, is mocked as old-fashioned and irrelevant, and shunted off to the side.
 
DES: Isn’t the whole point that Tramp changes? OK, maybe in the past he stole chickens, ran around without a license, and wasn’t always sincere with members of the opposite sex. But through his love for Lady, and beneficent influences of Fatherhood and Matrimony, he changes and becomes a valued member of that rather idealic household.

JOSH: I don’t think people really change that way. We can change our context, but we can’t change ourselves.

ALICE: I agree with Josh. Scotty is the only admirable character. It would have been a much better movie if Lady ended up with him.

DES: I’m really surprised. I think Tramp really changed.

JOSH: Maybe he wanted to change, or tried to change, but there is not a lot of integrity there. First he’d be hanging around the house, drinking, watching ball games, maybe knocking Lady around a little bit. But pretty soon, he’d be back at the town dump chasing tail.

DES: Oh give me a break! Are you taking your medication? Because what you’re saying is completely nuts!

Fat Cat and the 'Slippery' Slope

In 1999 I moved to the Sunshine Coast. At that time I moved into the Federal Electorate of Fisher. Given my interest in politics I asked around about my local member. His name was Peter Slipper I was told, a fairly unremarkable man, entrenched local member and was likely to remain that way unless the political apocalypse came and turned the arch conservative Sunshine Coast into a communist paradise.

Most of that initial characterization proved accurate. I’ve often joked that Fat Cat could run for the Liberals in Fisher and still win the seat. If you talked to the locals, most would agree. Consider that proposition for a moment: what does this opinion suggest about Australian democracy?

The year after I moved to the Coast, I was assigned to do one week’s work experience. I desperately wanted to work in an ALP political office, but did not have the means or logistical ability to travel the hour south to Brisbane. Fortunately a history teacher at my high school (and future conservative Sunshine Coast Counsellor) had an in with Slipper’s office. I could work in his office, if I remained somewhat muted about my political philosophies. I agreed.

I still have fantastic memories of working in Slipper’s office, for it was the first time I experienced working at the coal face. I was mainly charged with constituent correspondence, although I did get to sit in on some meetings and such. I had little, but meaningful contact with him, but was always available to answer any questions that I had.

Even at this point rumours swelled around the Sunshine Coast about travel rorts and other activities. The question in my mind kept coming up. If any one of these 20 plus unique rumours proved to be true, why wasn’t he facing the consequences of the Liberal Party and the electorate?

After my brief encounter with Slipper he continued his unremarkable career. I would run into him occasionally where he would claim I …had changed sides.’ As the years went by and I became more involved with the ALP, the rumours continued to compile, and it was clear that he was a second rate local member.

Yet it was only since he was elevated to the Speakership in November of last year that the National media and the Federal politicians even began to give a damn about the people of Fisher, and more importantly the conduct of its local member. The local community was well aware of the claims made in 2001, but nothing was done either to clear Slipper, or to sanction him. And thus the perception was created that nobody in Federal politics gave a damn about the people of the Fisher electorate with both major parties and their organizational wings happy to plod along with the status quo. With Fat Cat in office.

So the few people who care about Sunshine Coast political climate are left to ponder what is next in this catastrophe. My friend Luke Day posed an interesting set of questions the other night.

After defending him for so long, why are the voters of Fisher now so keen to attack him? Is it because it may be revealed that he is a dirty, sinful homosexual who offends their happy-clapper sensibilities? Is it because he no longer carries their much-cherished party brand? Is it because removing him may bring down a government they have hated from the start? The nation wants to know, Fisher. The whole nation wants to know.

I want to know, too.

Why I'm Not Drinking the Kool Aid.

The madness it seems continues unabated.

On Monday, Every Australian Counts have organized a ‘rally’ to promote the biggest policy catastrophe since ‘The Loans Affair’ of 1974. What they are ‘rallying’ for seems to be of little substantive importance. They want policy change and they want it now, dammit! It matters not that the NDIS amounts to eating a sandwich filled with diarrhea, sure it constitutes food for the starving, but it is sick and unhealthy.

Yet again, participants have no idea of the policy implications of the NDIS. The Government and the Opposition have blindly followed each other in backing the scheme, which as of yet has no policy infrastructure, and as is designed merely serves as a policy organ to promote corruption within disability service providers, many of which take advantage of suspicious loopholes to begin with. It matters not apparently that the chief 'ambassadors' of the policy do not have a disability, and Every Australian's self appointed 'patron' does not have a disability, and is a politician with no policy achievements or experience in the disability sector. He supposedly has more expertise than fellow supporter Graeme Innes, who is the Disability Discrimination Commissioner AND has a vision impairment! There is no doubt that Every Australian Counts cares about the opinions of those with a disability! 

On top of which the government funded disability information portal ABC Ramp Up (which I often contribute to) was used as a tool to propagate policy ignorance by having one of the scheme's supporters speak of the 'benefits of the NDIS', when in fact she did nothing of the sort.  As usual the article spoke nothing of the policy implications of what the proposed scheme will do. In fact, the only thing it does is articulate a glorified wish list of what an NDIS might, but won’t, provide. I want these wishes too, but it won’t happen as long as the current plans, or lack thereof, are implemented.

So while many of those in the disabled community drink the Kool Aid and ‘rally’ for an NDIS, I will do what the NDIS formulators refuse to do and follow through on a commitment with integrity:

If the policy is actioned, I will not accept any funding that is in any way NDIS related, unless the many flaws of the proposed policy are remedied. I will continue to refuse funding even if is detrimental to my standard of living.

I do not expect this one act to change anything in any way, but at least I will not be party to sheer incompetence and corruption. But it will achieve more than a 'rally' or the proposed NDIS combined.

Internal Sever Error...

Last Saturday I went nearly four days without the internet. There was no warning. No time to prepare myself for this respite. Initially I came to despair this annoyance. I couldn’t read the tweets as Port played its round three fixture. I couldn’t keep up with my regular schedule of downloading my favourite television shows, but most of all I would be out of the loop: news would go on without my cynical remarks. Would people even notice that I was gone?

I decided to pass the time by trying to be as productive with my thesis as possible. Despite taking a day trip to Brisbane on Sunday, I resolved to work steadily on Monday. The theory being of course that with no internet there would be less distraction. That held true to some extent. Research was easier, plans were streamlined, words came out of my brain at a steady stream. But I was missing something. It was the power to share my ideas with others.

Despite two very good excursions outside the house in those 92 hours, I felt as if the world was passing me by. I could not read the articles of some of my favourite writers, let alone the nine newspapers I consume on a daily basis. More importantly, I missed the ability to communicate with the online periphery: those who know how to contact me online, but don’t know how to contact me personally. The respite showed me who should move from the periphery to the centre, as well as who should do the opposite.

Life without the internet gave me time to stew in my own solitude: think about what will be important as I move to Brisbane (hopefully) soon, what questions I need to ask myself in order to be happy again.

Happiness I have concluded is the hardest thing in the world to achieve. People think it is easy, but most who think this live in a world of self delusion. Half the time humans think they are happy, but are really wholly unsatisfied. So instead of experiencing the loneliness that the internet has provided me with in recent times, I was confronted with an entirely different form of the same emotion. Rather than trying to seek happiness and coming up short I felt isolated as well as literally and figuratively disconnected.

Those 92 hours served as a microcosym for the past 18 months, as I was stuck in a holding pattern, with no real solution as to how to escape it. It confirmed to me that although I am frustrated almost every hour of every day, at least I’m choosing the right plans of attack, even though they seem almost impossible to implement.

The emotion that swirled around me the most in those four days was jealousy. It is such a useless emotion. I want what others have and more than likely they want what I have. And so on Tuesday I was reconnected in the literal sense, but certainly not metaphorically.  

Complicated

Finding someone who matches what I thought to be my rather simple criteria has proven to be the most challenging aspect of my life. Far harder than undertaking a PhD. I have so far failed to satisfy the majority of my needs.

Here are the scenarios I have encountered (and in some cases more than one applies):

1. A woman is interesting, likes most of the stuff I do, is generally awesome, and is very attractive but only seeks to be friends with me for any number of reasons.
2. I fail to live up to expectations. I am boring because I have substance. I am not a testosterone filled wanker. I love talk politics, philosophy, history, movies, music and literature instead of being a dip shit. This somehow works against me.
3. My credentials are intimidating, and women find it nerve wracking to talk to me (apparently).
4. They hate the whole crippled business.
5. They lead me on despite me being very clear about what I want from the beginning.

So not only do women have to fulfill my needs, we have to avoid the above complications. This has proven to be utterly impossible and frustrating beyond belief. It has become some sort of weird musical number come to life.

The end product I desire seems rather simple to me. How hard could it be to find a good friend who shares common interests, is willing to share intimacy of all kinds and someone who wants respect, love and trust?

Time to Give a F"ck

One of my Facebook friends just commented on a photo of two drunk girls kissing in a Brisbane nightclub and it popped up on my feed. It was taken directly off the nightclub’s web page.  Minutes after the photo was posted one of the kissing participants clearly stated that she did not consent to this photo being distributed. In today’s culture this is often regarded as socially and sexually acceptable. Yet days earlier, there was a public outcry when Kelly Vincent, a South Australian Senator, proposed laws which would give consenting adults with a disability the right to see a sex worker. What’s wrong with our society? You can drive a track through the outrageous double standards at work here.

Most conservative know-it-alls rage against the prospect of subsiding people with a disability to have sex without knowing the benefits of such programs. Little do they know that sex is a valid form of physical therapy for many people with disabilities. Therefore, subsidizing sexual activity for those who need it, is just as valid as subsidizing occupational therapy as State Governments already do. Or do people wish for me to pay for that too? 

No, I’m not being cute. Apart from the other obvious pleasures, activities of a sexual nature are the only time my body and my brain work in co-operation. Sex allows me to explore what my body is capable of in a positive, enjoyable environment and gives me incentive to manipulate my body more than (tax payer funded) physiotherapy ever could.

Then there are the emotional and psychological benefits. As I have discussed previously sex is one of the main avenues towards physical and emotional intimacy. We all need a good fuck once in a while.

So why should others decry such an important and innovative policy? I would ask those who are still opposed, how they would feel if they were denied sex for several years, even decades? Or even worse, what if never had sex in your entire life? You think you could cope? If you are deluded enough to say yes I would offer a blunt response.

Fuck off!

My 100 Greatest Films

This morning I set about the task of compiling my list of The 100 Greatest Films I have seen to date for a new friend of mine. Due to popular demand from other Facebook friends and Twitter followers, I have decided to post it on here with minor alterations from the list I gave her. (We've already talked about a few on my master list so I didn't include those on the one I gave)  It is bound to get criticised as it is subjective. It is also heavily weighted towards drama and political movies because those are my passions.

I'm not going to link to every film because it requires too much effort. I suggest you use IMDb search instead.

In no particular order:
 
25th Hour (2002)
Crooklyn (1994)
Bamboozled (2000)
A Dangerous Method (2011)
Martha, May, Marcy, Marlene (2011)
A Streetcar Named Desire (1952)
This Property is Condemned (1966)
All About Eve (1949)
Amadeus (1984)
Anchors Aweigh (1945)
The Goodbye Girl (1977)
Apocalypse Now (1979)
Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Journey Into the Apocalypse (1991)
The Conversation (1972)
The Godfather (1972) and Part II (1974)
Being There (1979)
Bob Roberts (1992)
Broadcast News (1987)
Defending Your Life (1991)
Shattered Glass (2003)
The Black Balloon (2008)
Breach (2007)
Bobby (2006)
Client 9: The Rise and Fall of Elliot Spitzer (2010)
Enron: The Smartest Guys In the Room (2005)
Dr Strangelove (1964)
West Side Story (1961)
Splendor in the Grass (1961)
East of Eden (1955)
Rebel Without A Cause (1955)
Coming Home (1978)
Cat On A Hot Tin Roof (1958)
Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966)
Almost Famous (2000)
Meet Me In St Louis (1945)
Resterpo (2009)
Election (1999)
Fast Times At Ridgemont High (1982)
Gallipoli (1981)
Balibo (2009)
Hot Coffee (2011)
Why We Fight (2005)
Bobby Fischer Against the World (2011)
Reagan (2011)
JFK (1991)
Nixon (1995)
W. (2008)
Platoon (1986)
Patton (1970)
Love, and Other Impossible Pursuits (2009)
Tabloid (2010)
The Fog of War (2003)
Malcolm X (1992)
A Separation (2011)
The Verdict (1982)
Network (1976)
All The President’s Men (1976)
Lost and Delirious (2001)
Ordinary People (1980)
Primary Colors (1998)
The Candidate (1972)
The Seduction of Joe Tynan (1979)
Quiz Show (1994)
Raging Bull (1980)
GoodFellas (1990)
Casino (1995)
Hugo (2011)
Reds (1981)
Seven Days in May (1963)
12 Angry Men (1957)
The Manchurian Candidate (1962)
Double Indemnity (1944)
Shopgirl (2005)
Sleeping Beauty (2011)
The Apartment (1960)
The Naked Gun (1988) 2.5 (1991) 33.3 (1994)
The Paper Chase (1973)
The Way We Were (1973)
The Ides of March (2011)
Drive (2011)
The Queen (2006)
The Deal (2003)
The Squid and the Whale (2005)
Trading Places (1983)
United 93 (2006)
Wit (2001)
Wonder Boys (2000)
Play it Again Sam (1972)
Annie Hall (1979)
Bullets Over Broadway (1994)
Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989)
Hannah and Her Sisters (1986)
Deconstructing Harry (1997)
Manhattan (1979)
You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger (2010)
Match Point (2005)


You can find reviews to some of these movies here.

Ain't That the Truth?

Over the weekend a friend suggested that I try another dating website, which appears to suit me better. One of the great things about this site is that it has 'personality tests'. I think the one I just took 'Are you a Geek, Nerd or Dork?' was pretty spot on. I love it so much that I am going to use this terminology from now on.

You are an Outcast Genius
 
78 % Nerd, 57% Geek, 61% Dork

For The Record:

A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.
A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.
A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.

You scored better than half in all three, earning you the title of: Outcast Genius.

Outcast geniuses usually are bright enough to understand what society wants of them, and they just don't care! They are highly intelligent and passionate about the things they know are *truly* important in the world. Typically, this does not include sports, cars or make-up, but it can on occasion (and if it does then they know more than all of their friends combined in that subject).

Outcast geniuses can be very lonely, due to their being outcast from most normal groups and too smart for the room among many other types of dorks and geeks, but they can also be the types to eventually rule the world, ala Bill Gates, the prototypical Outcast Genius.

Found and Lost: Two Versions of Love

I have just finished watching a delightful indie romantic drama called Like Crazy. Sure, it is just a tad pretentious attempting to appeal to the melodramatic film types (like me) and succeeding. But it really captures the essence of falling in love and the tyranny of distance, where months seem to be an eternity and the rush of dopamine that comes with love seems to be the only thing that matters. To outside observers the circumstances of the plot might seem just a tad to convenient: girl from London is studying in LA; meets boy. They date, fall in love hard and fast. They can't tolerate being separated. She decides to ignore her Visa and stay for a few extra months. Naughty girl.


The girl is more invested than the boy. She wants to move Heaven and Earth to see him. He does not wish to make such compromises. One wonders at his exact motivations. He says he misses her, but does not act that way. I rode this storyline through every emotional element. Although love has not lasted across oceans for me it may as well have. Without giving the ending away, it almost seems perfect that this great song plays over the end credits. It is very satisfying.

On the other end of the scale lies A Separation, a movie I saw a few weeks ago that I have been unable to get out of my mind. It is quite simply the best film I have seen in a long time. This Iranian drama is in every way the polar opposite to Like Crazy: where the former is dark, sinister and volatile, the latter remains sweet and endearing. However the central theme of both these films asks the question of how far the characters are willing to go for love? How important are loyalty and honesty?

Where Like Crazy enters on the verge of a relationship, A Separation chooses to throw its audience in the middle of its gripping conclusion, with accusations thrown left and right. However, A Separation is not just about the wreckage of a relationship, but also about the fracturing of honour and integrity. Where the beginning of Like Crazy argues that love can be easy, euphoric and happy, A Separation knows the truth. To quote Louie C.K. 'Optimism is stupid.'

What we have is two diametrically opposed films telling the viewers the values and drawbacks to the most complex four letter word in the English language. As to which version you take on board depends on your perspective. The word remains complex for a reason.

The Queen is Dead: Long Live the Dictator.

What does one make of the Queensland Election results?

The ALP are at best left with seven seats of the 89 member parliament. The ALP are not the ‘opposition’ now, but rather a glorified interest group with no talent left in Parliament, little presence in the vital South Eastern corner of the state and its organisational structure left in chaos.

Statistically, the ALP are at their lowest ebb in Queensland history. They have been shown up as tactically inept, with poor communication skills, and a lack of policy credentials. It is easy to blame Anna Bligh, no doubt most will, but most of the blame lies with her advisers. The extraordinary loss would have been minimized if the ALP had chosen to preference the Greens, the campaign dragged on for far too long, and the decision not to go to the polls last year during Bligh’s temporary rise in popularity as a result of the State's floods were all foolish mistakes. As a result, the ALP have destroyed any legacy they could lay claim to.

The bigger questions lie with the short and medium term futures of the Queensland Parliament. What does it say when a Premier has been elected before representing his seat in Parliament? How will the Government be held accountable for its inevitable mistakes with only 13 MPs not representing the LNP? Is parliament even necessary? This is a very sad day indeed for robust debate.

It will be gone from Queensland for the next three years.

Political Euthanasia

Congratulations to the Queensland ALP for broadcasting the worst campaign ad in recent memory.

The last 48 hours of a campaign represent a ‘media blackout’, this means no TV ads, no radio spots, and no presence in newspapers. For most people the above is the last they will hear from the ALP before they go to vote. What is the takeaway here? 

We know we are going to lose, please don’t be too hard on us.

Pathetic.

Imagine such an argument in a sporting context. Down by ten goals your football team decides to call a forfeit with half an hour to go. Then the team decides the time would be better spent grabbing a few drinks at the local bar.

It is quite frankly insulting. What’s the point of the many ALP volunteers who will hand out how to vote cards on Saturday? What was the point of me investing 8 years of my life in an organization that gives up so easily.

You have lost my respect and my vote.

I am disgusted.

Retired?

I’m wasting my nights…

I would like to be watching old TV shows, or movies, or reading the ever increasing list of books on my Kindle. Instead, I’m actively going against my anti-social nature by trying and failing to parse every candidate on internet dating websites. I’ve read most profiles two or three times now. In my mind, I have instantly ranked them:

• Must Haves: The girls I click on instantly, the ones who I’d die to go out with.
• Second Looks: These girls have an obvious flaw, but failing a lack of ‘must haves’ I’d go out with them on the basis of a second look.
• Safeties: The girls who I think are beneath me, but may want to go out with me.

These days there are far too many ‘safeties’ and all the current ‘must haves’ have rejected me in some way or another. Scratch that: all girls from all categories have rejected me in one way or another. Lucky I am good at rejection. Rejection has existed all my life, so I am used to it. I am not afraid of it. I know I am rejection’s punching bag. It knocks me down and I get the fuck back up. It is not sad. It doesn’t make me upset (anymore), it is just life.

However 9 months at this endeavour and zero emotional intimacy achieved, means that internet dating has been pretty much fruitless. Sure I found TCF who has helped me survive and become my rock, and I have two new budding friendships on the horizon. All this is great, but it was not what I came for.

So on the advice of TCF, I took one final stab last week. She suggested that finding the right person should be based on my passions. So I typed in ‘politics’ into the advanced search results: six results. Yay! Except they were all variations on ‘don’t talk to me about politics’. So I typed in ‘Tegan and Sara’: 4 results. They were all girls looking for girls. Stereotypes can be accurate occasionally.

Now I have to wean myself off scouring internet dating search results, as pathetic as that sounds. I have decided to flip my schedule to cure my affliction: fun stuff in the day, work at night. I have the discipline to work because I know I have to do it. Fun stuff can be put off. Nobody does internet dating during the day, so no one will be there.

Productivity + fun- rejection = yay?

Everything But Denied

My plans to move to Brisbane and live independently have hit another road block. Last week I was told by the Department of Housing that my application for accommodation has been ‘everything but denied’. In other words, they cannot formally say they have declined my application because the Government know me and they know my reputation. After all I have been calling the Department every week now to check on the status of my application. They know I will raise hell if they let me.

I have been actively seeking to move out of my parents home since December 2010. First I had to ensure I could receive in home support from Disability Services (DSQ), because if I couldn’t get help to take a shit or get something to eat there is not much point in trying to look for a place to live. It wasn’t until last November that I received this essential 'in home' support. That is right, it took me 11 months to ensure that I would not have to pay someone out of my own pocket to feed, dress and bath me.  Now comes the challenge of having to improvise yet again to gain access to my most basic right: my own roof over my head.

When coming up with ideas about how to do anything I want to do, the question is not ‘What does it take for me to get this done?’ but rather ‘How many obstacles do I have to overcome to maintain an equal footing with the rest of society?’ Every day of not being able to live independently is a day wasted. I cannot get access to basic resources. I cannot make the ‘fresh start’ that I so badly need. I cannot foster the new relationships that I crave. I cannot take risks and I cannot enjoy my own freedom.

I wanted to move out 452 days ago. I should have moved out years earlier. But I can’t: all because I can’t take a shit on my own. It is a life that is ‘everything but denied’. 

Two Decades On: The Benefit of a Good Education

Today marks two decades since I started attending a ‘mainstream’ primary school on a full time basis. On March 13th, 1992, at the beginning of Week Eight, Term One, I along with nine other physically disabled students arrived at Mitcham Primary School in Adelaide to attend school for five days a week. I started at Mitcham on a part time basis two years before, first going there one day a week, and then progressing to two. My other days were spent at Regency Park Centre, a special school in every sense of the word.

One of the greatest gifts that each of the 10 children had were strong and determined parents. The move towards ‘mainstream’ full time schooling was literally years in the making. All the parents bonded together to lobby the Education Department because they believed that fighting for an inclusive education was what their child needed and most importantly, what they deserved. The bond between those parents and the battles they fought is something I know I take for granted often. Without them working hard to lobby the government I would not be where I am today. In many ways, the bond between our parents is stronger than the bond that their children have, somehow many of them have stayed in touch and remain close friends while their children have forged their own paths.

‘Mainstream’ schooling benefited me more than any therapy could. It allowed me to demonstrate that I was just as capable as my contemporaries, and develop skills that I still use to this day. It challenged me in a way that a ‘special school’ environment could not. It allowed me to be a typical primary schooler as I rejoiced in playing Duck, Duck Goose on Sports Day, learnt my times tables and traded Tazos at lunch time. Perhaps, best of all it normalised ‘disability’ for the rest of the school community, because at Mitcham we were not segregated: we were just ten students.

In this regard, credit must also be given to the staff. All my teachers at Mitcham Primary were fantastic, they encouraged me every step of the way, never allowing me to use my disability as a petty excuse. I could not have asked for a better education. They really were ahead of their time.

In the 1990s as disability models shifted from ‘instutionalisation’ to ‘inclusiveness’, the ‘Annex program at Mitcham Primary’ as it was known, helped pave the way for modern special needs education. If you asked my parents twenty years ago whether I would have achieved so much academically I doubt they would have believed you. Mitcham was the beginning of a long journey that made such things possible. And I am just one child. Twenty years later kids with disabilities still attend Mitcham. The legacy of our parents, the staff and those original ten students lives on in them.

Trapped By Stupidity

Sometimes I wonder how I can live in a world where people are actually conditioned to ignore the absolute obvious?

Then I realize that once I voice my disapproval at such stupidity I am branded as a cynic. I think this only applies if you think ‘cynicism’ is a synonym for ‘well informed’.

And then there are moments when I am absolutely appalled that I am referred to as part of the ‘disabled community’. This is not because I cannot walk, or that I’m in a wheelchair, it is because for 99% of the time what the ‘mainstream community in the disability sector’ sprout as gospel offends and sickens me down to my very core. Yet I am an unwilling participant in such debates, due to bad luck and misfortune surrounding my birth.

It is made even worse by the fact that I am the ultimate hypocrite. I actually have to ask some of these people for help, so I can attempt to live something resembling a ‘normal life’. You might say, ‘try something else’, but the sector and the tools they use are so incestuous, the structure so rigid and backward that I am left with no choice but to beg these idiots for help. All because my brain does not work as it should.

I am forcibly attached to a ‘community’ I want no part of, for the rest of my life. And I will be forced to play by their rules forever. That I must submit reviles and terrifies me. Yet above all else their ignorance controls my destiny.