The Governments Internet Filter

So I'm pretty angry at the Government's proposed plan to filter our internet. It just seems like a bullshit idea where the cons far outweigh the pros- and it's almost like it was lifted from a shitty 1990s sci-fi action starring Sanda Bullock.

Already Australia is reasonably far behind almost every other 1st world country in terms of the speed and remote access (versus price) of our internet connections. Yet overall we're 15th in terms of population penetration (so surely we must be quite interested in our internet being up there). Under the aformentinoed plan, our internet speeds will decrease by up to a further 30% as every website we access must first be transferred through a government filter, checking for illegal content (namely, kiddy porn).

How can our local businesses afford to pay these higher prices while struggling to maintain customers with lower bandwith then overseas websites?

Here's an article from March 2007 about the 'upcoming' $8 Billion Broadband Rollout Plan that was one of Rudds political promises. The funds for this were meant to be taken from the 'Future Fund', which is funded by tax payers and namely made for Super Annuation payouts.

http://www.theage.com.au/news/business/rudds-broadband-plan-doomed-to-commercial-failure/2007/03/22/1174153254813.html

"The project will connect 98 per cent of Australians to broadband services with a speed more than 40 times faster than most current speeds."

I'm not sure if this plan has just been delayed or scrapped all together but we're now talking a 30% decrease in speeds thanks to the government, not a 40x increase. I'm not anti-labour but it is starting to sound like a political promise to get into power. Thanks Ruddy!

The filter is planned to be set up using the secure protocol https. The way this is going to work is that there is virtually going to be a scan inbetween every webpage you view or enter details on. Think about every time you access your net banking, or buy concert tickets online using your credit card details. Who is going to be scanning that? Nein!

Additionally, the plan is going to be installed with the government knowing full well that the vast majority of illegal content that is distribuited over the internet being over a peer-to-peer service (ie. torrent downloads), which this filter cannot view/stop.

I've rushed through the second half of this as I'm now late for work :P I don't normally get riled up over political bullshit but this does make me pretty unhappy. Consider this a vent, if you will..

Raving for Geist

The little guy in this picture is Morgan Geist. No, I'd never heard of him either, but I was asked to review his new album (Double Night Time) for Rave magazine. I'm pretty stoked about this, and hoping I get to write again and perhaps start up some sort of illustrious side career. It's quite exciting but I'm not that proficient at it yet. Stay tuned to see it in a magazine near you soon..

PS. His album sucks. Don't buy it. Unless you like suckful music.

---

MORGAN GEIST – Double Night Time
(Environ Records / Inertia)
House music by Sega Megadrive

Double Night Time is the first solo album release from New Yorker Morgan Geist (one half of group Metro Area) in over a decade. Drawing upon his early influences, the recording is a distinctly retro-feeling affair, with whispery lyrics from Jeremy Greenspan of Junior Boys layered over deep-space house.
The openers are dark but vibrant, and it’s easy to imagine the musician working in his studio with a Thriller poster towering above. The atmosphere builds as robotic synths and sound effects ricochet around deep but admittedly generic, disco-feeling bass hooks.
Third track Nocebo is a little reminiscent of German duo Booka Shade’s earlier pieces, and the middle of the album trudges along without much fuss. Most of All displays greater potential musically but is let down by uninspiring and asinine lyrics- “Most of all/I love you/Most of all/It makes me want to cry”.
In the latter half, both Palace Life and Lullaby are more upbeat in mood and tempo. Here the listener benefits from a slight detour in an otherwise brooding soundscape.
Recently Geist has spoken about having a lack of enthusiasm for contemporary dance music, and here he returns to the roots of his influences but the result is an album that feels like he hasn’t rediscovered that enthusiasm yet. The bleeps and bloops are not dissimilar to what the listener may have experienced from the original Sonic the Hedgehog game, and the bass guitar is decidedly Axel Foley in it’s delivery. All in all it’s a tawdry affair, and it all feels like it’s been done before.

Keto Bar

The trippiest non-drug related moment I've had in a while came at work last night when I indulged in half of a cherry/coconut 'Keto Bar'.

The function previous to what we were setting up for at work must have been a Metagenics/Keto Bar related promotion, where they dished these puppies out. It was already quite late at night, and Brad and I split a bar to boost our energy and productivity.

In retrospect, this just about goes against everything my parents taught me in regards to the candy from strangers principle. But seeing no strangers around, we decided it was safe enough to eat the strange candy- despite the particularly home made looking wrapper.

Anyway, within about 30 minutes we both started to feel dopey, slow, and lazy. Lying down became far more appealing then working and productivity dropped dramatically. We had to go get some novelty sized coffees before too long when everything ground down to a halt. Unfortunately they had the discovery channel on in the canteen and a nature documentary owned us for a further 20 odd minutes.

Maybe the feelings were enhanced due to the fact it was late at night on a Sunday, after an already large weekend, but it was a good few hours before the feelings dissipated (Infact I still actually feel a little muggy this morning).

Depending on which side of the fence you sit, It may appear that the primary ingredient in Keto Bars is lightly disguised marijuana, designed to make you hungry- for more Keto Bars! Eat at your own discretion.

Part 3

Dorothea and Tadgh's wedding was alot of fun, and particularly loose. I don't remember much of if but (unfortunately) my Mum snapped alot of photos of me looking like a penguin and strutting (or what not) on the dance floor. Those to come later.

At 4am I woke up on Sunday morning to get to the airport and fly to Manchester to meet Cal, Luke and Evan at Creamfields. Everything is going pretty smoothly until I get out of the cab at the wrong campsite ("Nah mate, this is where you wanna be for sure. 10 quid, please."). It takes about an hour for me and Cal to realise I'm at the wrong place, and the only way to get to the Southside Campsite is to walk something like 5 or 6 miles. I walk alot at home so the distance dosen't bother me but there is very little signage, and all the people they have doing security are muppets. At least 2 of them sent me back in the other direction when I asked for the 'Southside Campsite', sending me back to the other entrance where they wont let me in. I snag my arm on a barb wire fence somewhere (only got my favourite T shirt, not my skin), I lose a leather wrist band, my shoes fill with mud etc. etc. Anyway, it takes about 4 hours to get to the guys, and only because Cal drives out of the campsite to pick me up.




From here on in the day is great. I get very few photos of Creamfields, but the pictures in my memory are very vivid (at least, the ones from eariler in the day). We walk in to catch Deadmau5, and meet up with Meg Robinson (in the front left corner). Deadmau5 is great, but there's so much on it's hard to stay in one place. From there we move to a stage that's built on a London 2 decker bus to catch Matrix & Futurebound (a couple of my favourite Drum and Bass producers). From there the memory gets a little fuzzier, but I think the day went.. Eddie Halliwell (awesome), Cut Copy, John Digweed, Soulwax (awesome), Paul Oakenfold (the best set of the day, in my books), Underworld (awesome), Tiesto (awesome), Kasabian.

The way the festival is organized reminds me of Future Music Fest at Doomben earlier this year- Cal repeatedly says that Creamfields was better then the last Global Gathering (the biggest dance festival in the world?). I just wish I had been there for the Saturday also, where I could have seen Pendulum, Fatboy Slim, Paul van Dyk, Subfocus, High Contrast, Noisia, Judge Jules, Ian Brown, Sasha, James Zabiela and The Presets. Doh. Next year maybe ;)

The drive back to London is fairly painless, though long (3+ hours). Luke and Evan crash after we unpack the car while Cal and I head out to the Notting Hill Carnival. Apparently 750,000 people attend over the Saturday/Sunday/Monday, though it feels like everybody is there on the day we chose. I've never seen so many people in my life... The best stages seem to be those set up on the back of large trucks, that drive slowly through the streets with people dancing infront and behind. We only stay for a couple of hours, eat a couple of dry chicken satays, and head back to the house in Clapham where we crash out.

Today is Tuesday and Luke and Cal are heading out to work. Evan and I have the day off, but no plans have formulated as yet. I think it could be a good idea to stay in the Clap and do as little as possible...

I only have a few more days in London and I leave on Saturday night. Before then I need to get happy snappy with the camera again and do some sight seeing.

Part 2

ULTRA BREAKFAST



I decided to get out on the town pretty early (I've been waking up at like 6am every day, for some reason). I stroll down Grafton Street (Sort of the equivalent of Queen Street in Brisbane), and bump into a girl selling scratchie cards to raise support and funds for Alcoholism in Ireland (good luck with that). She wins me over by saying 'It's okay to have a couple of drinks, but..' She probably thinks I'm hungover. I have a habit of looking hungover alot of the time.

Over here, Hungry Jacks is called Burger King like the rest of the world. I think we're the odd one out. I get my first fast food of my trip...



And scratch the scratch card. Zip... Nada... Nothing.



I have to head back up Grafton Street and she sees me coming from a mile away, somehow suckering me into buying 2 more cards with the same result. Feeling a bit lighter in the pocket, I decide to drink my sorrows away at a pub in Temple Bar (not actually a bar, but a small suburb in the city). Take that, alcoholism!



I'm still that lame guy that sits in the corner of the bar and reads 'The Silence of the Lambs'. 'Is he going to kill us all?' I don't hear anybody ask.

I snap a couple of shots of Dublin on my way to the DART train station.



The first is what used to be Ireland's first Parliament house, but is now a large bank. The second photo is a random church that I don't know the name of- That particular style and architechture is fairly typical.

I was recommended to take the train out to a place called Dalkey. It's very pretty, a little village with only a couple of streets. I won't bore with all the details..







I finish the day at Finnegan's pub, with a couple of pints of Smithwick's (Pronounced Smiddicks if you wan't to pretend to be local). Useful tip: Alot of Irish beers are really heavy, and a pint can substitute a full meal if needs be (If that poor scratchie girl ever finds this blog, she's going to have a heartattack).



I get some Z's and it's now 6:30am on Saturday, my last full day in Dublin. Today I have the wedding (my getup is very James Bond, if I may) and tomorrow I meet up with Cal, Evan and Luke in Daresbury.

Part 1

Despite the fact that there's been little content or movement on my goldfish over the last couple of weeks, I keep telling myself this blog isn't just a flash in the pan. So I'm going to put up a few photographs that I've snapped overseas so far...

...It's not overly relevant, but here's my cat eating a drumstick.

Before I even get on a plane in Brisbane, there's drama- they wont let me on the plane untill I show them the physical credit card that was used to purchase the tickets. That credit card has since been cancelled. I have to flex my 'My Dad is a captain for your airline' routine, and I feel like a douche- but it works.. After I 'show a birth certificate or get his work ID faxed to the ticket desk'. There's a whole lot of annoying red tape but eventually they let me on board- I almost miss the flight.

I arrive in Hong Kong and I'm about half way through Red Dragon-

It's pretty good. I know which way it's headed as I've already seen the movie, but it's interesting enough for a plane trip. My favourite line is a quote taken from a William Blake poem, stating "And then came a Great Red Dragon also,". I like scary books.

The flight from Hong Kong to London is shit house. I get about an hours sleep (on a twelve-and-half flight), and the 16 year old english kid next to me won't turn off his phone. I don't care how you went on your GCSE's, please don't talk to me. He's pushy on the arm rest, too. The chinese girl on the other side of him sleeps for about twelve hours with her head on the table infront of her. Solid effort. On the plus side, I just about finish Red Dragon. I get through all the good and gory bits while the cabin staff ask if there is a doctor on board and a lady from a few rows back throws up alot in the bathroom near me. Should have had the chicken!

I miss my London-Dublin connection but make the next flight- it's only 45 minutes later anyway. I can't remember ever having missed a flight before. By this stage I'm pretty stinky and they're allowing me to cut in all the lines at Heathrow Airport.. suckers.

I get to Dublin and go straight to the city- it's a warm day, even though it's overcast. Cue a few photographs of the H'appeny Bridge, St. Stephens Green, and a delicious beer that I drank really fast at a pub called Davy Jone's that Mell and I have been too. I've been awake for close on 30 hours by this point but manage to stay out the whole day.

Everything is alot more green and lush then when we were here last in winter. I go home, and I crash at 6pm. I wake up at 4am- damnit.

The Wednesday is not quite as packed... I eat my first packet of skips since arriving in Europe. This will be a highlight of my trip.

I get Prawn Cocktail flavour (sounds alot worse then it really is), and the packet tells me they will be Fizzibly Melty. They do not dissapoint. I await their arrival in Australia.

All of the houses in Ireland look like this... seriously.

Here's some random building that looks like it could come alive at any minute. I snap this on my way to a park in the City.

I find a spot under a tree and get stuck into 'The Silence of the Lambs'. I feel like a university student at lunch time. I nibble on an apple and cinamon muffin, with a banana and walnut on standby. They are really tasty.

I get home to get ready to see Sweet Savage, Tenacious D and Metallica at Marly park. I must have been the only idiot there who read the ticket and left his camera behind- stupid me.

Sweet Savage are like every rock band you've ever heard.

Tenacious D are actually really cool- costumes, props, humour (I don't normally think all that much of Jack Black but his egotistical, loud-rude American stereotype works well on stage with the other guitarist, Cage). The crowd are quite supportive, which is unlike previous Metallica gigs that I've heard of.

Metallica come out at 9pm while the sun is still high in the sky. This is very weird for me. They play a whole bunch of old songs, like Creeping Death, Ride the Lightning, Master of Puppets etc. They also play Whiskey in the Jar, an old Thin Lizzy track that the crowd lap up. Today would have been (Irish rocker/singer from Thin Lizzy) Phil Lynott's 59th birthday had he not offed himself a while back.

Towards the end of the gig, they play a couple of punk tracks- And let me tell you, as embarrasing as it is standing next to your mum (Yes, I went with my mum) while Tenacious D play "Fuck you Gently", it dosen't hold a candle to James Hetfield singing;

(language warning, people)

"I've got something to say- I killed your baby today,

It dosen't matter much to me, as long as it's dead,

I've got something to say- I raped your mother today,

It dosen't matter much to me, as long as she bled."

At least I can explain that one is a cover.

And next track-

"Well, I've fucked the queen, I've fucked Bach

I've even sucked an old man's cock

So what, so what

And I've fucked a sheep, I've fucked a goat

I rammed my cock right down its throat

So what, so what

So what, so what, you boring little fuck"

Yeah, wow. I've got nothing.

I'm in Ireland for a few more days for a wedding. I skip town early Sunday morning (assuming I make the flight- I need to be at the airport around 430am after the wedding reception Saturday night) to head to the UK for the Creamfields Festival, Notting Hill Carnival, and probably 4 or 5 days worth of recovery.

Curse you, reality!

I think I'd have more fun if my life was a comic book. Bright colours, evil villains, super vixxens and such and such.

In my 'average guy' persona I'd be an AV technician slash lighting guy who gets bored at work of refreshing the same websites, and instead dreams (though that here is a strong word) to be in a comic book. My 'super power' alternative would be ManBoy, or Radioactive Dave, or The Incredible Dave.

But who is the alter-ego to whom?

Also, I could almost die at the end of every episode and you'd have to buy the next to find out how I got out of those recurring, deadly situations. Suckers.

Some of my better super powers would be;

Control of the weather, and also gravity
Pre-torn shorts (that never wear out), made of super lycra
The ability to talk to the animals, and think like the animals
Being able to beat anybody at rock, paper, scissors, using only my fists
A strong metabolism


...Le sigh