Wanna hear a nigger joke?

You know when you call someone up on racism and they lecture you for not having a sense of humour and call you a boring, pc-gone-mad wowser who just needs to get a life and learn to laugh?

This morning, Facebook has assured me that I'm not the only person who this happens to, as many of my friends are linking to this story about five good Aussie blokes in the Northern Territory who shared a couple of tinnies as mates, went for a drive (the driver was a good citizen and wasn't drunk) and kicked an Aborginal man to death for a giggle. The Chief Justice delivering the "justice" ensured they received the smallest sentence possible and wrote them character references.

Anyone slapping their thigh and shaking their head at these funny antics? Perhaps we need a telly program called Funniest Home Boong Bashing Videos or a kick-ass (oops I didn't mean that) TV justice programs where the audience get to vote if the defendants are guilty or should win a gift basket?

The other popular link today was to last night's episode of Media Watch.


I'll embed the video as soon as I figure out how - in the meantime, here's the link to the segment and here's the transcript.

I don't listen to 3AW, so I have to be grateful to those who do to let us know what some people think is bonza stuff to say. Neil Mitchell wants Catherine Deveny damned, but that's pretty mild compared to refusing to speak to a Muslim woman and ranting with the logic and intelligence of a dried dog turd.

The man whose rants were so embraced by the 3AW talk back crowd is very well known in theatre circles and respected for his public stance against homophobia. He doesn't like me because I wrote a fairly mild review about one of his shows. I didn't mention John Michael Howson's name in the review, so that googling for him wouldn't bring up public criticism  of a man who had worked so long and hard in our industry. I didn't hear the community radio interview where he responded to my review, but it was reported that he declared those type of reviewers "pretentious assholes".

Hey, I'm proud to be a pretentious asshole if it means I don't have anything to do with people like him.

Deveny V Wowsers

Catherine Deveny sacked for tweets

If it were possible, I'd spend all of today writing a very long and angry tirade about what is wrong with the decision to fire Dev from The Aged.

Let alone begin to analyse the ignorance of some of the supporting comments on The Aged site, Twitter and countless blogs. None which come near to Neil Mitchell, who said on radio that she should be damned. Damned, Neil Mitchell? She should be damned?

I didn't read her tweets from the Logies - but The Aged has printed most for us all to enjoy.  They fired her for writing them because they offended the readership, but printed them in case their readership hadn't yet read them. Makes complete sense.

I read the Bindi one (it's been reprinted enough) as a belief that dressing a little girl up like an eager to please wannabe starlett is slightly obscene and that perhaps bringing an 11-year-old to the industry's biggest piss up is an odd decision.

If the charmers on The Footy Show made a joke about Bindi's buds and her looking like she's nearly ready to date (read blow) Collingwood recruits, it'd be reported as a jolly good joke and  followed by whinging about feminists with hairy armpits who have no sense of humour and nothing better to do than complain because they can't get a root.

Sometimes it's embarrassing to be part of an educated society that has no sense of humour and seems incapable of seeing its own appalling behaviour.

So, last night I be-friended Catherine on Facebook. It's a tiny gesture, but she deserves every bit of support possible, and I'm beginning to feel more comfortable in my world again. The outpouring of support on her page, the wonderful comments on The Aged site and Twitter, and everyone else who is blogging their shock into cyberspace (especially those who don't like her writing) is a reminder that there is enough decency out there to overcome the wowsers.

PS: It's no secret that I am a fan of Catherine's writing. And I haven't shaved my armpits this week.


AND her return season of God is Bullshit opens tonight at Trades Hall. Should be an interesting season.

Justin Hamilton's great blog on the same.
The Crikey one is also fabulous.

Review: God is Bullshit: That's the Good News

MELBOURNE INTERNATIONAL COMEDY FESTIVAL 2010
God is Bullshit: That's the Good News
Catherine Deveny
31 March 2010
Trades Hall

It's unlikely you'll be sitting next to a Christian at Catherine Deveny's God is Bullshit, but you will find those who watched Dawkins V Fielding on Q&A and still have their jaws on the ground.

Deveny was brought up so Catholic that even their windscreen wipers didn't have rubbers and she happily ticked Catholic on her census forms, until reverting to atheism at 38. She didn't have a crisis of faith or remembered being fingered by a priest; she started telling her children about their family's faith and saw glaring consistency issues and a morality that went against too much of what she believed.

Her born again atheism comes with the passion of someone struck on the head by the bloody obvious, who is happy to scream to the world that she was wrong. Like ex-smokers, there is none as willing to talk about their reversion as one who used to believe. (As an ex-animal-eater, I know that desire to preach.) Given the age, intelligence and education of her audience, Dev is preaching to the choir, but who doesn't like hearing their beliefs affirmed?

I haven't read the Christian Bible properly, but I do read Deveny's columns religiously. (Don't tell her that I meet with friends on Sundays and we read her book and sing.) Her columns are one of the few reasons left to read The Age and her writing, attitude and ability to insult knobheads continue to inspire me. And,  just like her, I don't believe everything she writes either.

It's odd how people believe that written in print stuff must be true. Just between us, writers sometimes bend the truth to tell a better story or make a point ... and ... some even make stuff up! Gospel truth really means that you can write anything and someone will believe you. Religious writings really have a lot to answer for.

Like Ms D, I went to a religious school, but we were Anglicans – who are kind of like Catholics, but without the guilt and the virgin fetish, and we were allowed to be alter chicks (I was), use condoms (I do) and lithurgical dance was optional (I didn't).  I also won a series of Religious Education prizes. It wasn't because I wanted Jesus to make me a sunbeam; it was because I'd win a book voucher if I drew good pictures of camels, needles and burning bushes. The book vouchers were for the university bookshop, so I was able to use my faux-faith bounty to further my mind.

Even with its abundance of contradictions, Christianity doesn't offend me. Some of my best friends ... Really. Faith gives many people comfort and hope and perhaps a belief in miracles is better than a belief in alcohol or Tony Abbott. (According to the gospel according to Facebook, one of my friends believes in TA. Never say terrific people, can't have odd beliefs.)

Avoiding the obvious arguments of sexism, xenophobia, homophobia and war mongering, think of all the fabulous stories that would never have been without religious guilt, faith or characters. Neil Gaimen and Terry Pratchett might have had to write a book about earthworms.

And Christianity lets me be god-damned lazy when it comes to language. Jesus may have been a top bloke, but he's useful with an explanation mark. Without the phrase "Oh my fucking god", I would have had to yell "Oh dear, this gets the adrenalin flowing" when I had the bejesus scared out of me on the bungy ride at Moomba. Without our Judeo-Christian morality, perhaps fuck wouldn't be a swear word and no one would blink at cunt, gay and anal because we'd live in a society where sex and sexuality were accepted.

Which leaves the most convincing pro-Christian argument. I let Saint Catherine stamp "God is Bullshit" on my wrist so that I could touch her robes and because she was giving us an Easter egg with our stamp. Chocolate shaped like an egg and wrapped in shiny foil is brilliant. And without egg-shaped chocolate, we may not have the more-wonderful rabbit/bilby-shaped chocolate. I know Easter was a pagen spring festival long before the Christians hijacked it - but dammit, the Christians made it popular thus ensuring that choccy goodness fills our supermarket shelves from the day after Christmas. I can live without religion, but if it meant no more Haighs chocolate bilbies or Lindt rabbits, well I just don't want to think about it.

This review appears on AussieTheatre.com.

Tis the season to watch the telly

Tis the season to watch the telly, drink coloured drinks and eat all the sugar you daintily refuse throughout the year.

DVDs are brilliant for watching a whole season of Buffy in one sitting or weeping at the bliss of anything made by HBO, but it's not the same as turning on that box and finding something you love or hate and not being able to escape its clutches, as you scoff the box of Favourites you got for work Kris Kringle (with a K in case the religious meaning of our overeating festival offends) and thinking that perhaps you do a need space-wasting machine to get rid of your love handles, but luckily the phone is out of reach of the couch.

Even if telly is only the second most common source of on-our-own pleasure, when we watch broadcast programs, we are somehow connected with all the other people doing the same. Who hasn't watched an episode of their favourite program, complete with ads, even though the DVD of the series is right next to the TV. There's something about knowing that hundreds or thousands or millions (if you're watching Masterchef) of other people are sitting in their living room, wearing their underwear and eating straight out of the microwave dish, just like you.

But I don't want to do it anymore, cos telly has become so blah.

I kept watching so that I could  read the gorgeous and addictive commentry of Catherine Deveny (on Saturday) and Marieke Hardy (on Thursday) in The Age. Marieke made me proud to love Matt Preston, Catherine convinced me that Nigella's food porn is worth a watch and, I think, one of them made me watch an episode of Wife Swap.

But in one damned week, they both said goodbye.

Marieke's last Green Guide musings.
Catherine's last A2 hoorah that summed up what I was feeling far too well.

Ok, it's the wonderfully written abuse that I will miss. Who could forget Ms Hardy's "If I had to choose between sitting through another episode and having a threeway with the Two Ronnies I'd be stripping off and telling the world it was goodnight from me before sauntering back to the boudoir. And yes, I'm fully aware one of them is dead."

I'm going to miss you both.

Rich, white, straight-acting blokes

Rich, white, straight-acting blokes

One of the first things I saw on Facebook this morning was a link to The Age (I don't bother with the whole paper these days, just what my friends suggest I read) and this piece by the wonderful Catherine Deveny.

Like the person who posted it, I want to make copies and hand it out too many times each day. Not just to teenagers on trains calling everything gay (I too was a little shit in the teen years), but to the educated grown ups I meet every day.

Like the bloke who installed my oven and told me how they could rent this place to a dozen Indians because "they" don't care or the 20-something who gave a speech in class about how she understood the Israel-Palestine situation better than anyone or the EX bf who told me how women who work in strip clubs exploit men.

Like Catherine D, I work in the arts; a world known for its utopian equal opportunity; where men, women, straight, gay, old, young, god-fearing, atheist and every colour of the great big racial melting pot are treated exactly the same. And an industy full of all the stuff that white people like*. But us well-over-30 white chicks are still on the bandwagon.

And while I'm at is, here's what the also wonderful Marike Hardy had to say about the current John Safran hoo ha.

And an edited version of this letter appeared in The Age a few weeks ago in response to the MTC's 2010 season. It was written by actor and writer Dana Miltins on behalf of the Melbourne Worker's Theatre.

I'm not sure that a boycott is the answer (but then again I haven't actively eaten a Nestle product since the 80s), but it shows how deeply angry and frustrating it is when you are not  a "rich white straight-acting bloke who believes in God, or pretends to."

Over the past fortnight Australian main-stage theatre companies have been unveiling their 2010 seasons to a barrage of complaints and criticism about the lack of opportunities for women in key creative roles, especially directing. Last week the Melbourne Theatre Company followed suit by announcing that out of 12 productions only one is to be directed by a woman.

A recent article in your paper cites a letter sent by director Melanie Beddie on behalf of the Australian Women Directors’ Alliance to the MTC questioning their commitment to their equal opportunity policies. We understand there has been no reply. Derek Young, the MTC’s chair, said that the company does not feel it should be held responsible for gender equality; rather that it is an issue for the entire theatrical industry. He pointed out that Beddie had made a similar complaint in 2003 and that nothing had changed.

We, the current ensemble of the Melbourne Workers Theatre, wish to offer our thanks and support to Melanie Beddie and the Directors’ Alliance for bringing this issue to light. We would like to say to the MTC that to admit that nothing has changed since 2003 is to admit that the company is stagnant and out of touch with what is happening in theatre beyond its doors. The Women Directors’ Alliance comprises 60 members: a significant proportion of those members, Beddie included, have spent decades directing excellent, profound and mostly under-funded theatre in Melbourne and beyond. Our industry relies on these women’s efforts as mentors for cultivating writers, performers, designers and technicians, but in turn they are not rewarded with professional work that is commensurate with their experience and skills. If artistic director Simon Philips is suggesting that the MTC’s gender inequality is the result of a lack of experienced Victorian female directors then we would like to ask him: are you blind, or scared, or both? There is no shortage of female talent in Victoria, simply a lack of opportunity.

We understand that budgetary constraints limit the number of external directors that can be employed by the company. But, when the proportion of directors is always overwhelmingly male we are interested in finding out what your recruitment criteria are that so many experienced women continue to be overlooked. That said, if the cost of external directors is causing gender equality to remain grossly unbalanced then it would seem logical to include women in your salaried creative staff.

If the MTC is the flagship theatre company of this state then it, more than any other company, has a responsibility to set an example and act fairly when it comes to gender equality. To relinquish that responsibility and make excuses as to the current state of discrimination implies that the MTC does not hold this issue to be important and therefore does not intend to act to promote change.

The Melbourne Workers Theatre would like to entreat all theatre-goers to take a stand and boycott main-stage plays that are directed by men until the imbalance is addressed. Theatre is nothing without an audience and an audience is almost nothing without womeOver the past fortnight Australian main-stage theatre companies have been unveiling their 2010 seasons to a barrage of complaints and criticism about the lack of opportunities for women in key creative roles, especially directing. Last week the Melbourne Theatre Company followed suit by announcing that out of 12 productions only one is to be directed by a woman.
 
A recent article in your paper cites a letter sent by director Melanie Beddie on behalf of the Australian Women Directors’ Alliance to the MTC questioning their commitment to their equal opportunity policies. We understand there has been no reply. Derek Young, the MTC’s chair, said that the company does not feel it should be held responsible for gender equality; rather that it is an issue for the entire theatrical industry. He pointed out that Beddie had made a similar complaint in 2003 and that nothing had changed.

We, the current ensemble of the Melbourne Workers Theatre, wish to offer our thanks and support to Melanie Beddie and the Directors’ Alliance for bringing this issue to light. We would like to say to the MTC that to admit that nothing has changed since 2003 is to admit that the company is stagnant and out of touch with what is happening in theatre beyond its doors. The Women Directors’ Alliance comprises 60 members: a significant proportion of those members, Beddie included, have spent decades directing excellent, profound and mostly under-funded theatre in Melbourne and beyond. Our industry relies on these women’s efforts as mentors for cultivating writers, performers, designers and technicians, but in turn they are not rewarded with professional work that is commensurate with their experience and skills. If artistic director Simon Philips is suggesting that the MTC’s gender inequality is the result of a lack of experienced Victorian female directors then we would like to ask him: are you blind, or scared, or both? There is no shortage of female talent in Victoria, simply a lack of opportunity.

We understand that budgetary constraints limit the number of external directors that can be employed by the company. But, when the proportion of directors is always overwhelmingly male we are interested in finding out what your recruitment criteria are that so many experienced women continue to be overlooked. That said, if the cost of external directors is causing gender equality to remain grossly unbalanced then it would seem logical to include women in your salaried creative staff.

If the MTC is the flagship theatre company of this state then it, more than any other company, has a responsibility to set an example and act fairly when it comes to gender equality. To relinquish that responsibility and make excuses as to the current state of discrimination implies that the MTC does not hold this issue to be important and therefore does not intend to act to promote change.

The Melbourne Workers Theatre would like to entreat all theatre-goers to take a stand and boycott main-stage plays that are directed by men until the imbalance is addressed. Theatre is nothing without an audience and an audience is almost nothing without women.

by Dana Miltins

* Here's the version for Melbourne white folk.