Wikipedia: the last bastion of truth?

I never thought I'd be saying this, but I have begun to believe that Wikipedia is actually the most unbiased and reliable source of information on the internet.

Don't get me wrong, I have my favoured news websites, the most prominent being The Guardian site. However, I like this because being an eco-vegetarian, existentialist, authority-suspicious traveller, most of my beliefs and political views tend towards the left, and I know the good ol' Guardian will give me what I want to read. It also gives me Charlie Brooker, who is my generation's apathetic genius.

Every now and then, though, a stable, rational person (so not the readers of the Daily Mail) needs a source of news not tailored to their personal needs. You need to put yourself up against something that makes you reassess your thoughts. Not to subject yourself to this is to risk becoming fundamentalist in your opinions - and criminally uninformed.

Where does one turn in this situation? The Independent? Fox News? The Sydney Morning Herald? A random person's blog? Each has their own agenda, an opinion of their own, because each one is controlled by a will that must be adhered to, whether it be the will of the writer, the owner, the political system or the rich companies that sponsor it.

Where does that leave us?

Wikipedia.

It's sort of like news by committee; everything stated is checked over by thousands of pairs of eyes. Every bit of bias is weeded out, every fact is updated, and every inevitable info-bombing situation that anyone cares about is removed in minutes.

I realised this when I wiki'd far-right Republican fucktard Glenn Beck, and found this:

"Beck has become a well-known and polarizing public figure, whose provocative views have afforded him media recognition and popularity, along with controversy and criticism. To his supporters, he is a patriotic stalwart, defending traditional American values from progressivism,^[4] while to his detractors he is notorious for conspiracy theories and incendiary rhetoric.^[5]"

I honestly can't think of where else I could be given such balanced information. Not even in my own head are things this unbiased.

I often lose myself in Wikipedia for hours, because it feeds my need for information about something, then with a swift click of a track-pad shoots me over to something relevant but different. There are always more links, always more things to learn. It gives me a shallow pool of knowledge about absolutely everything, meaning I understand a lot more in the most accessible of ways, but always lets me know how to find out more if I want to.

It's informative but light-hearted; I can research the Troubles in Northern Ireland, find out the impact of MGMT's new album or find a list of kids' TV shows from the 80s. I can graze the top of a theory, or I can dig deeper and get more out. If I find a hole in their infonet, I can plug it.

There's no limit and no cost. No bias, no agenda, no moral or ethical or religious preachings. 

I'm not saying it's perfect, but in a media circus filled with badly-hidden agendas and bare-faced lies, it might just be the best we've got.

The anatomy of a surf mind

As I'm sure you might have noticed if we're friends on the dreaded Facebook, since moving to Aus I've become quite involved with the idea of surfing. I did the same thing I did with snowboarding in Canada, which was to buy my own board before I was anywhere near good enough to justify it and pledge to learn from then. The big difference between the two situations, apart from the heat, is that I've actually been surfing more than twice over here.

I've been pretty good with the pledge. I’ve been going every Sunday, with a couple of unavoidable exceptions (including a tsunami warning), and this weekend stepped it up to two days a weekend, with painful results.

I'm currently sat here with a grazed arse (which stings a hell of a lot more than you would think), a torso that is decorated with a fin slash and hurts when I turn, nackered arms and legs scattered with bruises. So why the hell do I do this when I'm not even getting that good?

Well, if you’ve never been surfing you probably haven’t ever experienced how purely fun it is. My first few times going in Cornwall showed me that despite freezing cold water, hailstones, sticky wetsuits and a complete lack of ability, a couple of hours surfing with a few friends can be one of the most amusing things you can do, especially when you’re all shit.

Since getting to Aus I’ve also learned just how amazing an experience surfing is, and how much of an achievement it is once you actually get stood on the damn board. Though people like Kelly Slater and Laird Hamilton make it look as easy as, well, standing on a plank of wood, it bloody well isn’t.

First you’ve gotta get out there in the first place. The point of surfing is to ride waves, and its these same waves that repeatedly hit you smack in the face at point blank range while you’re scuttling away from the shore to get out, sending you 5 feet back for every 3 feet you manage to paddle forwards. This quickly gets frustrating, and more importantly, exhausting. My person gripe is how much it makes your eyes sting.

Once you’re actually out far enough to catch anything and have got yourself pointed in the right direction, you’ve then got to try to catch something. They’re inevitably either few and far between, leaving you laid on your board getting neck ache from trying to keep an eye out for the slightest hint of a ripple behind you, or they’re just that little bit too big for a beginner, meaning that you paddle your heart out only to poop your pants as it gets to you and you realise you’re going to get beat down by a serious amount of water OR smashed on the head by a surfer who can actually do it and will not realise that you're totally in their way until they've already hit you. I would say this makes up 50% of time surfing at Manly.

Even if you do catch a wave, you'll either catch it wrong and nosedive, have to jump off because a swimmer clearly not understanding the SWIM BETWEEN THE FLAGS signs will be staring inanely at you as the tip of your board goes careering towards their face, forcing you to abandon the perfect wave you've been waiting 20 minutes for, so as not to kill them, or you'll get up for 3 seconds then wipe out badly.

But oh, what a beautiful 3 seconds they are. 

The adrenaline of feeling the ocean push you before it pummels you totally is so divine, you instantly want more. You realise that the water is a cheeky drug dealer, giving you just enough to get you addicted then jacking up the price for what you now need. And more - you respect the sea. You don't fear the sharks so much because you understand that you're in their territory. You don't piss about because you know the power of the wave. You paddle out beyond the breaks and you listen to the glorious silence extending out further than you can even imagine. In sitting out there with all the noise in front of you, you see the hectic life of people contrasting the purity of nature. You understand.

You lay on your board soaked in sun, feet hanging down, calmer than you've ever been, then you paddle forward, catch a decent break and impress yourself with your best ride of the day.

It makes all the pain and embarrassment of being shit, crippled and sunburned quite, quite worthwhile.

Not the way to go about it

Yesterday I went along to a Marriage Equality march, the second of its kind that I've attended in Sydney as part of the National Year of Action working to legalise gay marriage. Despite a depleted attendance (perhaps a different direction for the next event rather than the same one every few months?) the speakers were much better this time, and included a particularly inspiring young girl whose speech ended with the phrase "and when I'm older I WILL walk down the aisle hand in hand with the person I love". How anyone could wish anything else for her is beyond me. 

Side note: I heard something utterly sickening from one of the speakers; some dickish politician (whose name I obviously neglected to remember) has managed to offend a whole heap of people by suggesting that allowing gay couples to adopt wil result in the next 'stolen generation'. If you don't know much about that, let me give a brief and wholly inadequate summary; a massive ruck of Aboriginal kids in the first half of the last century were forcibly removed from their homes and sent to grow up in white Australia, effectively to kill off Aboriginal culture and resulting in a whole generation of people without any real sense of identity and with residual guilt about their own race. Australia has since said "sorry" for this (and indeed has "sorry" day) but it hasn't got much better. To suggest that placing children with loving parents of the same sex will fuck up a generation as much as this debacle did is offensive to a degree I never thought possible (and I hate the term offensive), and shows the sort of cultural insensitivity that you really don't want from your politicians.

More info here: http://reconciliaction.org.au/nsw/education-kit/stolen-generations/

Anyway, so there I was, happily joining in the myriad of sexual identities coming together to support equality (including Norrie - the first official neuter person in NSW) and as I leaned over to the sign the petition, I realised there were Socialist posters all over the table.

"How do you feel about Obama sending 30,000 more troops to Afghanistan?"

Erm, what? I had up to this point not even thought about that situation (not owning a TV and not having had time to do my usual scour of the Guardian website in the few days previous, I felt totally ignorant) so I went with my gut response: "I think it's a bit shit".

“What do you think about the war.”

“I’m against it.”

“We’re having an anti-Obama rally tomorrow.”

“Well I’m not against Obama….”

At this point I wandered off – I didn’t want to get into an argument about it; I was there to support gay rights.

Five steps away another Socialist girl approached us: “We’re having an anti-Obama rally here tomorrow, would you like to attend?”

(Damn you Louise for being able to just keep your mouth shut; I apparently was raised without this ability.)

“No thanks.”

“So you think it’s ok that he just send more troops to Afghanistan.”

“No I don’t.”

“So you think he should pull the troops out immediately?”

“No I don’t.”

I went on to try and explain my opinion (let me just state that again: my opinion) that pulling all troops out of a country that you’ve been fucking up for 9 years would do more harm than good, especially to the people of that country and the infrastructure which you’ve attempted to demolish. I should have mentioned the proposed 18-month withdrawl policy for both Afghanistan and Iraq, but it was too hot for my brain to think.

She then started on me about how Obama has been in office for a year and not done anything, especially about the healthcare system. I again stated my opinion that a year is not a long time to unfuck a country that’s been very much fucked up for 8 years previously, and in terms of healthcare, a long long time, and that I do actually think that he is working towards restructuring the healthcare system, but he is working against a ruck of companies made rich and powerful by the current way of working, and a country of people indoctrinated to believe that national healthcare would be the first step towards socialism and duly indoctrinated to think that socialism equates with communism and that communism is evil. (Of course I wasn’t nearly as erudite as all that.)

“Well I think that’s bullshit.”

“I don’t want to continue this conversation.”

“Well what would make you come tomorrow?”

“Nothing. I have plans.”

I have 3 main issues with this: 

1) This is a marriage equality rally. What gives political groups the right to aggressively hassle people who have come to show that they are passionate about equal rights for people of all sexual preference?

2) Since when does trying to change someone’s mind consist of getting totally up in their face and using bad rhetoric and ad hominem arguments? It’s people like this who hinder the left more than help it. Good political debate needs to be based on critical thinking, and should allow for different opinions and seek to change those opinions with facts and logic, rather than trying to shout people into agreeing with you.

3) Girl was a dick.

Anyway, I was royally pissed off, and was only placated by chanting a slogan that could be a Ramones song: “Hey hey, ho ho, homophobia’s got to go!” I love whoever came up with that.

Another side note; if you don’t think there’s an ingrained mistrust of national healthcare in America, check out this shocking video – proof that there’s at the very, very least a small but seriously angry pocket of fucking idiots with no sense of ethical decency.

I also have heard stories from my friend from the OC (actual place, not annoying show) about kids my age without health care who are still completely against the idea of free health care, despite the fact that they would benefit from it. The US is still pitiful in a lot of ways.

A Very Gay Weekend Indeed

Every week in Sydney seems to bring something new and no rest at all, and this last weekend was most mental. On Friday night we went out to a bar on the rocks where we were given ridiculous cocktails by our wicked friend Robyn so were pretty hungover when we decided to take up Robyn's offer of being in the Mardi Gras parade rather than watching it. We ran around stringing outfits together in a circus theme and ended up with a slutty ringmaster, a clown and a bearded lady, all of whom met up with strangers dressed in similar attire that very afternoon. 

It was all a bit of a haze and I didn't realise how many people turn up for this thing until darkness fell and we faced hundreds of thousands of people along the hour-long march through the city, with media and tourists and everyone wanting to take your photo and hug and kiss you as you parade by, playing up the crowd. People were being very touchy feely and kissy, and I still don't know whether this is just the general theme of the event or whether the fact that we were on the polyamorous / bi float made them think we were all totally up for it. 

It's pretty amazing when you consider that thousands of people were in the parade itself - the only parade I've ever actually been interested in, seeing as how I'm not American. It's so wicked to see straight / bi / gay / poly / trans / queer people celebrating the myriad of sexualities in a euphoric manner. It was without a doubt one of the best things I've ever done...

...until it was royally one-upped on Monday morning, when I defied sleep and rationality to turn up at the opera house at 4am to join Spencer Tunick's first Sydney installation. After waiting for almost 3 hours for the sun to come up, over 5000 of us shed our clothing and stood in front of one of the world's most famous landmarks for near on an hour, letting an American dude take photos of us front on, facing back, lying down and hugging. 2 news helicopters circled constantly with us waving to them, photographers were too close for comfort, and every gust of wind brought a surprised cry from the men. After everyone's sensitive areas had had enough of the chilly breeze, half of us went inside to drape ourselves over the expensive seats in the name of art. I actually had my head about 2 centimetres away from a dude's genitals when the artist told everyone to "face the organ" - a dude that I then realised was Jesus in the parade on our very float! 

Sacreligious? Perhaps.

Anyway, I am so, so proud to have been a part of such a beautiful, inclusive, supportive and most of all fun situation. I learned that once you're naked, you're naked, and no one really cares. It seems to have made the news all over the world. And we get a print of the photo for free, woop! 

I also learned that 20 minutes sleep is just barely enough for 2 days when you're past 17. On Monday at work I was a wreck and I realised I'm a teenager no more. Before the parade on Saturday we met a gay couple of 13 and 15 (yeah, that's ten years younger than me) who were bummed that they couldn't go to the parade because they had to be home by 6pm. Cool kids. I felt massively old when they pulled a bottle of whiskey out of their backpack and gave me some. I am sure when I was 13 I was just fat and unfashionable.

Despite trying to have a quiet (and cheap) week last night I went to see the Prodigy, which I'd almost totally forgotten about as the tickets were an xmas present (thanks Lou!). I fucking love going to shows with people who are as blindly excited as you are, and the Prodigy seem to stir that up in people. Maybe this is because they've been going for nearly 20 years and their last album was as good as their first, or perhaps because they're ridiculous and with sustained ridiculousness comes reverence (case in point: Dave Benson Phillips). It's amazing that the guys are all reaching 40 and hardly show it. They also had a drummer and guitarist with them this time, which they may or may not have had last time I saw them (I'm often too small to see the stage when tall bastards are everywhere - I didn't realise that Pendulum weren't DJs for a while, despite having seen them) and mixed tunes way more than they did before too. The dubstep breaks in Thunder were particularly well received by my knees and feet. 

It's still pretty clear that they have to make an effort to get Keith away from the mic, as he's really just been a glorified dancer for the last 15 years having accidentally been vocalist for their most successful song, but when he did this time he made me feel right at home by doing a massive "WHAT ARE YA GONNA DO ABAAART IT, EYYY?!", just as if I was about to get punched in the face in a pub in Essex by a guy wearing trackies tucked into his socks, a fake Burberry hat and a shit chain from Argos that gives him a blue mark on his neck every night.

Lately I've very much become interested in this idea of collective effervescence, introduced to me by Tom and Lou last year. According to Emile Durkheim it's an energy perceived by a crowd of people that might make them act differently to normal*. I've liked this idea ever since I heard of it, and I definitely think its true when you think about clubs and festivals and any kind of positive atmosphere, but there's the flip side of it too, the mob mentality and unthinking obedience of, say, just picking something at random here...religion. I honestly think I felt the epitome of it this weekend, when I stepped out of my comfort zone to 'perform' to 100,000 Australians and then stripped off all my neuroses to appear naked for all the world to see. As an Sartrean existentialist I don't believe in human nature, so its very interesting to me that such a collective consciousness can even exist. Maybe I'll add 'read Durkheim' to the neverending list of things that will never get done because I'm too busy doing things like being in ridiculous parades and getting my kit off.

*See also - Mikhail Bahktin's theory of the carnivalesque.

I've been busy...

It’s recently been brought to my attention that I haven’t written anything on this blog in over 5 months, and this is shocking. There’s good reason though; I’ve been having way too much of a good time. Blogging in Canada was easy when it was cold and I was poor, but in Sydney there are things to do every single night of the week, even when poor, which is stunting both my productivity and my sleep pattern.


A quick update is due I guess. After 6 weeks of searching Lou and I finally found the perfect house in Newtown, the coolest part of Sydney (no bias there at all) and the lesbian capital of the inhabited world, apparently. There are enough girls who like girls in this suburb to keep KD Lang and Tegan and Sara in tight pants and plaid shirts for the rest of their lives. We filled it with colourful shit, as is our want, and had a housewarming party; the theme was cult movies and Totoro, Ponyo, Ash from Evil Dead, King Arthur, Baby from Dirty Dancing, Thelma, Bonnie (of Clyde fame) and many more made their awesome appearances. Kudos kids!

I spent Christmas at the International House of Pancakes (which may or may not be less a chain of creperies but a house containing friends of UK, US, Spanish and French descent) drinking for 3 days straight, making everyone listen to Fairytale of New York on repeat and eating some unbelievable food cooked by our chef buddy Chris. We didn't sit down to eat til 10pm because we'd been so lashed, and also because despite the shitty weather we had insisted on going surfing at Manly. Who DOESN'T go surfing on xmas day in Sydney? Everyone, that's who. Anyway, I couldn't have had a better festive period and loved spending it with some new and some old friends.

NYE was slightly wierder, with a mad day at our place and a rushed, impeded scurry across the city at 10.30pm when I realised that the original plan (to climb an abandoned building in our hood and watch the fireworks from the roof) wasn't going to happen and that I was going to miss possibly my only Sydney new year's ever. We made it to Observatory Hill in an hour, despite the state of us and the million and a half other people trying to get there, and I almost cried watching the fireworks from a hill right next to the Harbour Bridge. It's as good as they say it is.


What else have I done....I went to see the Dalai Lama speak, went on a rave around Sydney Harbour on the most beautiful day of the year that ended in a bus load of us singing to Love Shack on the way to the afterparty at 5pm on a Saturday, much to the bemusement of the rest of the city, I went to Homebake (good), Field Day (meh), Soundwave (great) and the Playground Weekender (friggin fantastic), as well as to see Chase & Status, and the godfather of dnb Mr Andy C (who Lou and I ended up meeting and hugging and dancing with us - best thing to ever happen ever, FACT) on his first Australian boat party, I've learned to surf (shakily) and bought a board, I've got a microdermal in my chest, witnessed a suspension, started growing herbs in the back yard, been to the brilliant Govinda's (where you lie down to watch movies), started going to naked life drawing at a really nice hotel (we're not naked, they are), discovered a great vegan community space, met a whole bunch of great people and picked up yoga again!


Oh, and there was a random street dancing episode to a busking band in January. It was unfathomably awesome.

My awesome nephew Batman Symbol was also one last week, and I am pleased to say he's sporting a nice surf bum / indie kid haircut and stabbing drum sticks through skins already. I like to think my influence is felt.


I'm working as a booking agent / PA (HA!) / promotor / the chick who plays with the dog for an awesome little company, meaning I work with bands all the time and arrange nights and band competitions and stuff. Somehow I managed to find another job where I don't start til ten, everyone gets on and rocking into work horrendously hungover is all but encouraged. They even give me free festival tickets and passes to weird events. Obviously I enjoy it.


Wow, that's almost 4 months of Australia right there. I'm a third of my way through. Strange.