danmiller

To Journal or Not to Journal 14-03-2010 03:38

At the end of high school I decided I would study journalism at university because I really believed in it. I believed, and still do, that it can help people. I loved the idea of the journalism being the fourth estate watching over the big players in society and reporting on any misconduct as a way to ‘keep the bastards honest’ so to say.

However, not everyone shares my enthusiasm. When someone asks what I study their reaction to the word ‘journalism’ instantly demonstrates how people feel about the profession.

For example, I use to work in the pokies room of a football leagues club (a job that in hindsight I realise I was totally unsuited for). On my first day I was being trained by one of the veterans of the pokies room. We were going through the obligatory introductions when he asked what I study at uni. I said “journalism” and his reaction was classic. “Oh, I don’t like that. The only good journalist is a dead journalist mate. It’s an immoral profession.” The fact that a man whose job revolves around making a pokies room more hospitable so that people stay longer and depart with more of their hard earned cash was taking the moral high ground was a little disturbing.

Another incidence sticks out in my mind. It was around Christmas time last year. The extended family was all sitting around on the veranda discussing my uncle’s potential new job, running an employment agency that helps deaf people find work. My grandmother turns to me and she says “instead of doing journalism at uni why don’t you do something like your uncle, something that actually helps people.” I think my head almost exploded at this point.

Friends often joke with me that I will one day be writing stories for Ninemsn news about water skiing squirrels or whether Britney Spears wore a bra today. There might be some truth to this because it does seem to be the way that all news outlets are going. Because of this I myself of late have been wondering if journalism is right for me.

But a recent trip to the Townsville Court House has really confirmed in my mind the importance of journalism. On this trip the court reporter for the local newspaper showed the journalism students around and explained what court reporting is like. This veteran reporter was kind of a Yoda like figure in my mind. He had seen it all and done it all before. He stated simply you will get abused court reporting but you just have to toughen up because what you are doing is important and an open justice system, and democracy itself in the larger picture, just doesn’t work without journalism. This single statement made me feel much better about what will hopefully be my future profession.

Cheers,

Dan

How to Create Racism 28-02-2010 02:20

I have always found racism and xenophobia really perplexing. How can people just decide that a certain group are fundamentally different from themselves and therefore worthy of fear and hatred. I thought that surely this kind of mentality is hard to create.

However, my younger brother going to his swimming carnival recently jogged my memory and made me reshape my opinion. I thought back to my days at primary school. My school was divided into 4 sports houses: Cuthbert, Elliot, Bradman and Fraser (I was in Cuthbert for those of you playing at home). Now allocation of the different houses was not based on having a fundamentally Cuthbert-like or Elliot-like personality. There was no Harry Potter style sorting hat. As far as I could tell students were put into a house based on the order they enrolled.

Because house allocation was based simply on random chance you would think that a feeling of patriotism towards your house wouldn’t really exist. However this was not the case at all, especially on a sports carnival day. At sports carnival time all the students would come to school dressed in their house colours. You would spend the day hanging out with no one except fellow housemates. In this way primary school students imposed their own little apartheid. Stereotypes would develop: “Don’t trust Bradman they cheat,” et cetera. Derogatory names would be created for the various houses. Elliot was smell-a-lot, Bradman became badman, Fraser was blazer and Cuthbert became Custard (these last too were pretty poor I know but to a primary school child being called a smart casual jacket or a delicious after dinner treat is very insulting).

The amazing thing is that these sports days were able to create the notion that the other houses consisted of people who were fundamentally different from you. Mini-child racism was created. This train of thought, despite being a rather silly train of thought, has lead me to be a little less perplexed by how racist thought can developed and be so prevalent within our world because as the sports day demonstrates a hatred of different groups can be based in absolutely nothing. Racism is child’s play it would seem. Of course this doesn’t excuse racist ideology it just shows how easily it can be created and based in nothing.

 Cheers,

Dan

A Night on the Town 14-02-2010 08:30

Here is a run down of a recent night on the town.

11.00 AM – I Receive a text from my friend Tom: Hey Dan cheap Tuesday tonight. Want to go to town? $2 drinks.

I text back: Yeah Tina and I were talking about going to town. Meet at your place. And invite other ppl don’t want it to just be us three like last time.

Like always I actually didn’t really want to go to town but agreed because I feel I have to fight my urge to become a social recluse, who only leaves his house for food and toiletries.

9.30 PM – My girlfriend Tina picks me up and we go to Tom’s house. This conversation follows:

Me: “So is Greggy coming?”

Tom: “He never text me back.”

Me: “Tyson?”

Tom: “No he's got a work thing.”

Me: “Emma?”

Tom: “She has no money apparently.”

Me: “Mandy?”

Tom: “No.”

Me: “Teesha?”

Tom: “No.”

Me: “Samantha?”

Tom: “No.”

Me: “We need to get new friends.”

Tom: “Yeah we do. You drinking?”

Me: “Nah I don’t feel like it.”

Tom: “Weak stuff.”

Me: “Weak stuff? Do I have to punish my liver every time I get an opportunity? In fact, wouldn’t doing something I don’t want to do for no other reason than everyone else is doing it be the weak thing to do?”

Tom: “No. Weak stuff Dan. Weak stuff.”

Tina drinks ¾ of a bottle of wine and Tom drinks a few scotch and cokes that are so strong I can smell the scotch from a few feet away.

10.30 PM – Tom’s Dad drives us into town. We enter Club A, a student bar. Both Tom and myself are hard of hearing at the best of times so the Counting Crow’s “Mr. Jones” cranked up to 11 doesn’t help the situation. (It must be some kind of law that every club in Townsville has to play Mr. Jones at least 3 times a night cause that song is on high, high rotation). This conversation follows:

Tom: “I’M GOING TO GET A JUG OF RUM.”

Me: “WHAT?”

Tom: “JUG OF RUM.”

Me: “WHAT?”

Tom: “YEAH, I CAN GET YOU A GLASS.”

Me: “WHAT?”

Tom comes back from the bar with a jug, plunks a glass down in front of each of us and fills them up.

Me: “I don’t want to drink.”

Tom: “I bought it for you. You have to drink it.”

I drink it.

Tom: “Well it’s your round now.”

Dan: “What! I didn’t even want the first one.”

Tom: “I heard you say you did.”

I go buy the next round. While at the bar I buy a fire engine for Tina. I look at her delicious red drink and my foul smelling brown drink and long to be able to consume girl drinks without being ridiculed. We finish the jug. I turn to talk to Tina and when I turn back Tom is gone. Later he reemerges with another jug in his hand. We drink that jug and then I am told that I owe a round. The fourth jug is taken downstairs to drink as we play pool. Tom is obviously drunk because every time I miss a shot he laughs uproariously and says something along the lines of “YOU SUCK!”

11.30 PM – We move to Club B. Here we see some friends from high school, Janie and Karly. Janie boasts that she hadn’t had to buy her own drinks all night, which is one of the many advantages to being a woman. I look out at the dance floor. Let’s call dancing what it is: a socially acceptable form of molestation. In any other context a room full of people groping each other while simultaneously bouncing to a beat would appear quite odd. I overhear a woman dressed as a nurse tell her friends, one of them dressed as an angel the other as a cowgirl, that “NO IT’S OK NOW CUASE MY PERIOD CAME SO I CAN DRINK AGAIN.” This little scene makes me laugh. Karly and Janie disappear somewhere so we move onto Club C.

1.00 AM – I point out the irony that we are waiting in a line to get into Club C to do exactly the same thing we were doing in Club A and B but my companions are too drunk to pretend they find my observation interesting. We get to the front of the line. The bouncer inspects my ID. He looks at the ID then back at me then back at my ID again then back at me. He flicks the idea as if if it were a fake ID flicking it would make it fall apart. He finally lets me pass. I think the power to decide who goes through a door is perhaps the smallest amount of power to ever go to anyone’s head. In Club C an overweight hairy DJ spins records and shouts things that would be considered sexual harassment in any other context: “HEY LADIES SHAKES THOSE TITIES. THE LADY IN THE RED DRESS YOUR COMING HOME WITH ME TONIGHT IF YOU LIKE IT OR NOT. HAHA JUST JOKING.” However, no one seems to be offended by this. Maybe there is something about standing in a DJ booth that gives you some kind of moral impunity.

We find a seat. Tina says she is sleepy and then she falls asleep on my shoulder. I look around at everybody dancing and smiling and drinking. From the looks of it this going to town thing makes people happy, but I can’t really tell why. I decide there are two options: either town really does make people happy and there is something I am missing, some inability to connect and be happy with other people in situations like this OR everybody is faking it, pretending town makes them happy to make their working weeks not seem so utterly bleak and pointless. Both options depress me but I don’t have time to dwell on them. The bouncer comes over and tells me, “she can’t sleep in here.” I tell him, “she isn’t sleeping, she’s just resting her eyes.” He doesn’t think my remark is funny and makes me leave. Tom misses this and is still inside. Me and Tina sit outside a hotdog stand and I text Tom to tell him where we are. A shabbily dressed deranged man comes over and starts a conversation. He tells me I should invest in a racehorse to make money. I contemplate this and it actually does seem like a good idea. The police come and make him move along. Tom comes out and meets us. At this moment both Tom and Tina start to vomit as if they were on the Olympic synchronous vomiting team.

2.00 AM – Once the vomit geysers dry up I take the opportunity to hail down a taxi. I take the front seat and Tom and Tina take the back. I look back, Tina looks fine but Tom is white like a ghost. I stare at him and try to psychically communicate: TOM DON’T VOMIT IN THE TAXI OR THEY’LL CHARGE US $70. As soon as the taxi pulls up in front of my house Tom opens the door and vomits on the street. We give each other the thumbs up knowing we just saved $70. After this vomit Tom claims he is fine and the taxi driver reluctantly drives him to his house. I unlock my door and go in my house. My phone rings. It’s Karly.

“Dan where are you?”

Me: “I’m at home. We took a taxi.”

Karly: “So you can’t give me a lift home then?”

Me: “No.”

Karly: “Ok Bye.”     

Cheers,

Dan

P.S. I am currently making a video about the ageing population problem so stay tuned for that it should be ready any day now.

(All names in the above article were changed to ensure my friends don't sue me).

Japan’s Cultural Right to Whale 07-02-2010 04:32

Yesterday, when I asked my mother, a fully grown educated woman, if she liked whales she replied in a voice usually reserved for cooing at babies, “of course I do, they are big and cute and swim in the ocean,” while moving her arms like fins.  I know she is not alone in this sort of reaction. In fact the whale seems to be absolutely adored by Australians. So it is not surprising that Japanese whaling in Antarctic waters is an issue that won’t go away anytime soon.

However, in all the media coverage of whaling from the past few weeks there seems to be one point that is consistently left out: perhaps Japan has a cultural right to whale. Knowing how much Australians love whales I realise how unpopular that assertion may be, but I believe occasionally playing devils advocate is important.

Like it or not, eating whale meat is culturally significance to the Japanese. There are in fact many groups allowed to hunt whales (albeit there are tough restrictions on the amount that can be killed) because it is deemed as a culturally important activity to these people. For example, Norway and Iceland are permitted to hunt minke whales, as are the Native American Makah people in the United States. Closer to home Australian Indigenous people are permitted to hunt dugongs, turtles and other marine animals. We obviously recognise that hunting certain marine species is significant to certain cultures; so our condemnation of the Japanese seems inconsistent. Killing whales under the guise of ‘scientific research’ was perhaps the wrong way to go about it but if the Japanese were to stand up and say “we want to whale because it is part of our culture,” I am not sure how we could refuse them.

So is it time we stop being so precious when it comes to whales and let the Japanese eat whale meat?

Check out this interesting blog post by journalist David Fogarty if you want to read more on the subject: http://blogs.reuters.com/environment/2008/04/07/a-sting-in-the-whale-tale/

Cheers,

Dan

The Train Trip 31-01-2010 01:27

Here is a break down from my notepad of my recent 18 hour train trip from Townsville to Bundaberg.

4.30 PM – Train departs Townsville Station. My seat is surrounded by old people who are determined to find out where each other are going and then cross-reference everyone they know ever to see if there are any matches. This conversation ensues:

Lady 1: “You’re going to Bundaberg! I’m going to Bundaberg to visit my son.”

Lady 2: “Oh isn’t that lovely. Where does your son live?”

Lady 1: “Earl St.”

Lady 2: “Earl St! My niece only lives a few kilometres from Earl St on Ballden St.”

Lady 1: “Ballden St! That is where my friend Rebecca’s brother lives. Isn’t that right Bill?” The woman says as she taps the half asleep man beside her. “You know Rebecca Bill. She has a diabetic son.”

Bill: “Huh? What? Why is it so dark in here? I can’t see a thing. They always make trains so dark!”

Lady 1: “That’s because you have the shades down on your glasses Bill.”

Bill: “Oh yes I see.”

The elderly’s ability to make friends with each other on public transport so easily both fascinates and infuriates me.

6.30 PM – J.K. Rowling reportedly came up with the idea for Harry Potter while on the train so I decide I will take this opportunity to think of my own children’s book that will make me millions. Here are my ideas:

• Paul the Guy That Checks Your Ticket and the Philosophers Stone

• Terry Tray Table

• Paul the Guy that Checks Your Ticket and the Smelly Toilet Cubicle of Secrets

• Train Vampires vs. the Station Werewolves That Have Hot Abs

• The Da Dining Cart Code

• Why Won’t that Baby Shut Up and the Goblet of Fire

7.15 PM – Lady 2 makes a large exaggerated sigh every time a particular small child runs down the aisle so that the whole train can know her disapproval. I personally find her overreaction to the child’s enthusiastic yet ultimately harmless activity more annoying than the child. Occasionally she turns to me and says, “if that child runs down that aisle again I am going to thump him.” I think to myself that she should either ‘thump him’ already or stop telling me she is going to. Eventually the thumping comment generates a long conversation between Lady 1, Lady 2 and Bill about the virtue of smacking children and the phrase ‘good old days’ is used on numerous occasions. However, I give the child the benefit of the doubt. I am sure he would not disturb lady 2 if he knew the importance of her work: the New Idea puzzle page. Those 12 differences don’t spot themselves.  

11.00 PM – The carriage lights had been off for a while at this point so I am using the personal overhead light to read. Lady 2 puts away her magazine and is ready to sleep. She obviously wants me to turn my light off at this instant because she starts commenting on how it must hurt my eyes to read in this light:

Lady 2: “Doesn’t reading in the dim light hurt your eyes darl?”

Annoyed at the indirect way she is asking me to stop reading now that she is ready to sleep I shoot back as pleasantly as I can: “No not at all. Infact I was worried that the light is too bright and would disturb your sleep but since it appears dim to you I guess I shouldn’t worry about it. I’ll keep reading then. Goodnight.”

I was actually about ready to stop reading before lady 2 commented but I decided to continue for at least another hour to cement my victory in that little altercation.

3.00 AM – I am awoken. Lady 1 had decided she would sleep with her foot up on the armrest of the person infront of her, who happens to be me. During her sleep her foot had encroached further and further up the arm rest until this point when I look down and the foot is on top of my arm.  It was not the fact that my arm was being violated that woke me but the fact that the foot was so cold. So cold that I feel she may have died in her sleep. I cringe and check for a pulse. When I find one and no longer fear the woman is dead I am left to look at this cold, calloused, skeletal foot. It looks and feel like what I imagine the Grim Reaper’s foot would look and feel like. Not to be outdone in disturbing me lady 2 is snoring; at least that’s what I think it was. I can’t be sure because the noises protruding from her mouth sounded like a wild boar being chocked to death. I eventually get to sleep: the foot haunted my dreams that night.

7.00 AM – My MP3 had run out of batteries at this point but I keep the ear buds in my ears anyway so if people try to communicate with me I can feign not hearing them.  More children running and more threats of a thumping.

9.30 AM – My father meets me at Bundaberg Station. He asks, “how was the trip Dan?”

“Yeah, better than some I’ve had.”

Cheers,

Dan

MEMRI TV 10-01-2010 04:03

Hello Everyone,

Have you ever wondered what YouTube would look like if all the clips were made by Middle Eastern extremists? Well I know I have so that is why I was so excited to find this site:

http://www.memritv.org/

The site is run by the Middle Eastern Media Research Institute. Amongst other things, this group watches a lot of Middle Eastern TV, picks the parts that would interest the West and posts it online.

It is free to join and anyone interested in Middle Eastern culture, how the media contributes to racist ideology or how individuals become radicalised will find this site illuminating. Stand out clips include a man on Iranian TV describing how the clever mouse character from Tom and Jerry was created by Jews in order to improve the image of the Jewish people as they were likened to mice in Nazi propaganda and perhaps even more worryingly a cartoon explaining suicide bombing for children. However, the sheer volume of hateful clips directing a vehement rage at the West and Israel is probably most worrying (although important for the West to see and understand). It becomes easy to see how individuals raised with such a media could become resentful towards other countries. So for all those interested in the Middle East I highly recommend this site.

Cheers,

Dan

2009 A Year in Review 21-12-2009 09:45

Those who know me know that I’m a fantastic dancer, an amazing cook and a modest person. But you may not know that I’m also a keen modern historian and futurist. So with this year drawing to a close let’s take a look back at the major events of 2009 and what we can expect in 2010.

Pirates, it Sounds Cool but Isn’t – Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water it turned out pirates are back roaming the high seas. But these pirates aren’t the loveable ragamuffins we’ve come to know from movies (I can’t believe Captain Jack Sparrow would lie to us like that) they kill and kidnap people.
Next Year – One word: ninjas.

Obamarama – The United States’ first black president, Mr Barrack Obama, was inaugurated. His competent leadership and inspiring rhetoric caused thousands of satirists to loose their jobs; in stark contrast to the industry boom of the Bush years.
Next Year – Kevin Rudd causing an international incident when in a poorly executed attempt to leach off Obama’s popularity he puts shoe polish on his face and greats a meeting of the UN with a rousing “WHATUP!”

Hey Hey It’s Racist – A controversial comedy skit airing on Hey Hey It’s Saturday pushed the boundary of good taste... and what can be called a skit. Next Year – Harry Connick Jr. not going on Hey Hey.

Footballers Behaving Badly – 2009 not only saw a resurgence of piracy but also a resurgence of Vikings. These vicious men travelled the country looting, pillaging, drinking and defecating in hallways. Oh wait that wasn’t Vikings it was NRL players. Next Year – Bowls player’s going off the deep end and stirring up some trouble.  

B’day – Everyone in the world had a birthday in 2009. Next Year – More of the same.

The Lie of the Tiger – It turns out when you’ve got your own Powerade flavour it’s easy to get chicks. Tiger Woods got busted in a very public way which makes me wonder, why do I care, play some real news. Next Year – Tiger Woods getting a very lucrative endorsement deal with Milton and Black Divorce Lawyers.
 
No-hopenhagen – 2009 saw the promise of what could be the greatest, most important meeting of world leaders ever. It turned out the hot air emitted from the leaders mouths only added to the problem of climate change. Next Year – I really hope something actually does happen.

Cheers,

Dan

My First Blog 12-12-2009 06:44

I’m very excited to be writing my first blog post for Actnow. For those of you that don’t know I am one of the new cash for comments team members, so over the next couple of months I hope to bring you guys some interesting content. If anything I produce has an impact upon you, by all means feel free to leave me some comments.

Now down to business. If you’re like me you’re easily confused by big words. With the Copenhagen Conference being conducted as I type this very blog there are a lot of big words regarding climate change floating around in the media right now. This is why for my first blog I am recommending an excellent book that will help all those who are confused wrap their heads around climate change.

The rather ominously titled The Vanishing Face of Gaia:  Final A Warning is the latest book from rock star scientist James Lovelock. Lovelock is the man that first proposed the Gaia hypothesis: the idea that the Earth is a self regulating organism of sorts. There is a tendency amongst some scientists to write off Lovelock as a bumbling new ager (perhaps because the Gaia hypothesis was first proposed during the 1960s and in the mind of the scientific community got associated with the hippie movement). However, don’t let this put you off because to many the Gaia hypothesis is a well thought out, creative hypothesis based on scientific data.

Unlike some of his earlier books The Vanishing Face of Gaia is not so much about arguing Gaia theory is correct but is instead a commentary on the current state of the planet. The book discusses the causes, consequences and possible solutions to global warming in an unapologetic and forthright manner. Lovelock discusses everything from blocking out part of the sun with a giant space shade sail, to how food could be produced on a much hotter planet with a much bigger population. (He even puts forward a very strong argument for the use of nuclear power and those interested in the use of nuclear power will find this extremely interesting). So for all those wanting a good introduction to the topic of climate change I recommend this book.

P.S. Keep a look out for my first video piece. I am working on it at the moment and it should be ready for all to view in the next week or two.

Cheers,

Dan