Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Throwin' some 'video killed the real blog' Kleinballs

I could be writing about other stuff. I should be writing about other stuff. More substantial stuff. I have a huge backlog of photos on my camera that I should be uploading. There's plenty of news to share. I do, after all, have some huge changes coming up. But I'm being lazy. So enjoy as I throw down some video Kleinballs!

Tying a bow on the end of the Winter Olympics, we look back at Australia's first ever winter gold, just eight years ago. I'm not sure if this is a fitting way for a desert nation to win its first gold or an embarrassing way. Either way, it's pretty funny.



As the regular season for Rugby League approaches, the league recently put on an inaugural NRL All Stars versus Aboriginal All Stars match. And Wendell Sailor – one of the more colorful characters in the league, and who's about to retire – treated us an absolutely hilarious try celebration. There certainly have been better touchdown celebrations in the NFL (Merton Hanks is an all time favorite for me), but you usually don't see overly flamboyant celebrations in rugby. So the shock factor, combined with the fact that Sailor scored the try for the Aboriginal All Stars – you'll see in the video why this latter point is relevant – just sent this one through the roof.*



*Hmmmm... a few weeks removed from this game, I just watched this video for the first time in a week or so. And I'm not so sure the hilarity's going to translate. Just trust me – there's a strong dose of hilarity in there.

Working for a training services company, with one of our core competencies being in leadership development, I read and view quite a bit of leadership-related content on the Internet. I'll concede that I could have found this video on leadership so brilliant because most of the other stuff I come across is so humorless, but... well, no... it's pretty good.



Have a random video you'd like to share? Why don't we continue throwin' these Kleinballs in the comments! Because heaven knows we don't all already have enough places to share inane links and videos.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Back in America: Parts 3, 4 and, well, ∞

In July 2008, there was Part 1.

In April 2009, there was (unofficially) Part 2.

And now, well, there really aren't any more Parts. It's Parts 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 and beyond. Right to infinity.

I came to Sydney on September 14, 2007. And starting in May, I make my permanent (yet phased) exit.

To paraphrase the words Michael Jordan so eloquently used to announce his comeback, and the same ones I referenced in this blog's first post:

I'M BACK (IN AMERICA)

Much, much, much more to follow in the coming weeks and months. Until then, I leave you with this:

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

On KFC, Australian "racism" and American egocentricity

Several weeks ago, you may have heard about the controversy here over a KFC ad that was deemed by some people outside of Australia as insensitive at best, racist at worst. And many of you have likely already seen the ad, and perhaps have even heard plenty of people offer their unsolicited opinion. But even if you have, humor me here and read on; I think I'm in the position to have a unique perspective.

First, have a look at the ad:



From an American's perspective, in a vacuum, and without any context, this doesn't look good, right? Insensitive (or racist) Australians, right?

Well, not entirely. But before I can explain my rationale, we need to take a step back.



Australia has an ugly, ugly, ugly history with the people native to the land, the Aborigines. There is no denying this. Nor is there any denying that relations to this day, despite some good intentions from both sides, remain strained.

So there's that. But that's not what this post is about.

This post actually starts with the US, and its own history. Then it moves to Australia, and this country's interpretation/ignorance of that history. And then it ends by moving back to the US, and the reaction of the American people and media to that interpretation/ignorance.

Clearly, the US has as much – if not more – ghosts in the closet than Australia when it comes to its own race relations. And while those relations have improved over the years, just as they have in Australia, there are plenty of sensitivities that stew just beneath the surface of day-to-day life in the US. Those come to a head very frequently; for an example, look no further than the quotes from Harry Reid about Barack Obama that recently became public, and the subsequent media and political outcry.

It's an uber-sensitive society, filled with complexities that take a lifetime to appreciate, and one which has no sympathy for – and practically preys upon – just the slightest slips of the tongue.

Back to Australia. I've often described Australian culture as the intersection of English tradition and American pop culture. The connection to the English past goes so deep that time and time again, Australians have voted down becoming a republic, which would necessitate cutting all ties from the British Commonwealth. So to this day, the Queen of England still technically rules the country. But you turn on a TV in primetime or go to the movies or go to a newsstand, and odds are that you'll be consuming American-produced content. I was once told that my American accent wasn't exotic (if you will) because I "sound like TV".

This is all just a long way of saying that Australians are exposed to a lot of American culture.

But here's the problem: Australians don't really get American culture. Like I said, it's a complex society that takes a lifetime to appreciate. So without actually living in it, Australians' understanding of it is completely superficial. And that's where things get dangerous.

I can't tell you how many times I've heard an Australian casually throw around the n-word. Every time, it's grating to my ears. And yet every time, I have to remind myself that there are no bad intentions. They've heard it from a TV show or a movie or a song, and so they emulate it. But there are no racist intentions at all, certainly not like you'd infer if an American white person casually used it in conversation. If anything, Australians' use of the word is simply out of ignorance: ignorant of the history of the word, of how much pain it causes, of what it means today. Of course, it's the American media that we have to blame for this; no use of the n-word in the media would mean no misuse of the word by those who don't understand it.

But. If an American without this perspective visits Australia and hears that word – especially if an African American hears that word – we have a situation begging to blow up.

Which brings me full circle to this latest controversy. Or kind of. Because to get to that, I first I want to tackle another controversy from a few months earlier – also regarding Australian "racism" – that received a fair amount of media attention as well.



A popular variety show from the 70s, 80s and 90s, Hey Hey It's Saturday, had a few reunion shows back in September and October. And on one of the shows, with Harry Connick Jr in attendance as a guest, a group called the Jackson Jive performed a skit. Watch the skit and Connick Jr's initial reaction (until about the 2:45 mark), and then his more blunt opinion (from about 5:25 to 6:40)*:



*Don't want to watch it all? Here's the Cliff's Notes version:

A group of guys come out, dressed as the Jackson Five (even though, strangely, there are six of them), and perform a cover of "Can You Feel It". Unfortunately, the five guys who aren't Michael – again, not sure about the math there – are wearing blackface. The guy playing Michael is wearing, ummmmm, whiteface? (If you can call it that? Whatever. You get the point.) And Connick Jr, who's judging the performance, is less than impressed. While his distaste for the skit is somewhat understated at first, the host of the show gives him an opportunity a few minutes later to fully express his opinion, and he uses that time to make a more pointed statement in which he tries put the history of blackface in context.


This created a huge firestorm here, with Connick Jr stuck right in the middle. Yet amazingly, I found that most people sided against Connick Jr: "He doesn't understand our culture! We don't take anything seriously! How dare he project the sensitivities of his own culture onto us!"

I said it at the time: that is the worst justification ever. Seriously. The second you try to emulate something from another culture, the onus is on you to make sure you're not breaking that culture's rules.* The guys who put on that skit broke some serious rules, and they – along with everyone else who refuses to see why it was harmful – need to make a respectful effort to educate themselves on the history of blackface in America.

*It's like when you go to another country; you obey LOCAL laws, regardless of how absurd they might be to your own sensibilities. I don't see anyone bringing chewing gum to Singapore, unless they'd like that government to go Michael Fay on their ass.

Bottom line, that skit was insanely insensitive. And that's even before factoring in that it was only three months after Michael Jackson had died. THREE MONTHS!



And finally – finally! – we come back to what started this whole post: the KFC cricket ad. Just in case you need to refresh your memory, here again is the ad in question:



Again, in a vacuum, this ad looks pretty bad, perhaps as bad as the Jackson Jive skit.

But here's the thing: after the ad made its way onto YouTube, Americans watched it in that vacuum and took it way out of context.

Hmmm. I'm not sure italics on that "way" emphasizes my point enough. How about repeating it a few times, with bolded, italicized caps on the last one? And let's stretch out that last one, too: Way, way, WAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY out of context.

Let's take another step back: I am an American, through and through. I love my country. I wouldn't trade my nationality for anything in the world. Despite some of the baggage that comes with it, especially living internationally, it's a source of pride for me. Having said that, America is a ridiculously insular culture. It's something that has always disturbed me, and this insularity rears its ugly head with all too much frequency.* It's done it again here.

*Fortunately, most of these occurences are pretty inane. Take, for example, the following passage from a Joe Posnanski blog entry a few months ago, in which he recounts a dinner with a friend:

One of the topics of discussion was how at any given time there is always one person who is widely considered the funniest person in the world (or America, anyway). This isn't necessarily the person WE think is the funniest person in the world; I've already told you I don't think Robin Williams is all that funny. It's more like the national plus international consensus. We did not spend a lot of time on the dates (and I should say here that I added a few names that Michael might not agree with) but we generally think the funniest person in the world title has, at one time or another, been the following people.

– Richard Pryor
– George Carlin
– Chevy Chase
– John Belushi
– Eddie Murphy
– Robin Williams
– Billy Crystal
– Dana Carvey
– Mike Myers
– Jerry Seinfeld
– Jim Carrey
– Adam Sandler
– Jon Stewart
– Will Ferrell
– Tina Fey

You all know I love me some Posnanski. Seriously... the man crush runs deep. But I couldn't help but note the absolutely insane hypocrisy in this passage. First he concedes that this list of the funniest people "in the world" may be just confined to America. Okay... so it's just the funniest people in America, I guess? But then he says three times – not once, not twice, but THRICE! – that it's an international list. Right... so now it IS the funniest people in the world. But THEN he goes on to list 15 comedians, all of whom were popularized by American culture! Riiiiiiiiight.


Anyway. Where was I? Ah yes – the KFC commercial.

Let's provide all the context that almost no one in America would know prior to viewing this ad:
  • It's currently cricket season in Australia.
  • The West Indian cricket team is in Australia to play some matches.
  • KFC is a major sponsor of Australian cricket.
  • As a major sponsor of Australian cricket, KFC is running a series of cricket-related ads.
  • In each of the ads that KFC is running, Mick, the main character, is faced with some sort of inane obstacle that's preventing him from enjoying his cricket. So he uses the apparent magical power of KFC chicken to get others to shut the hell up so he can get back to the cricket.
  • The ad in question is the only one in this series that features people from the West Indies. Not African Americans, mind you: West Indians.

So. There's that.

To me, this comment from this article on Media Bistro sums it up brilliantly:

Sorry Americans. It only the guilt of your hundreds of years of oppression against blacks that is apparent here. The stereotype of an African American having an affinity with fried chicken is an AMERICAN stereotype, fostered by AMERICANS and spread through popular culture by Americans.

KFC are a major sponsor of the summer cricket in Australia. It also happens that the West Indies are one of two touring teams this summer (including Pakistan) and the blacks depicted are West Indies fans. It really isn't a stretch to see this ad in its context as a supporter sitting solo amongst the opposition supporters and getting them onside by buying lunch. The rest is your guilty minds looking for somebody else to blame for a stereotype you created (and that only exists outside America thanks to American comedians whose black people/fried chicken jokes have made it outside your country).

Get a grip and get off your high horse.

The ad has nothing to do with African Americans, or the American stereotype that black people like fried chicken. But why confuse the American media with the facts when they can take it out of context, interpret it as they want, and blow the whole thing out of proportion? And we get to where we are today.*

*Frankly, I'm shocked that there's never been an outcry in the US about, ahem, Coon cheese. Exhibit A, B and C.**

Yeah. Context.


**If you click on ANY link throughout this insanely long post, please make it any (or all) of these. Classic Australian commercials.



Is Australia racist? Short answer: no. But if it wants to emulate the US – as it does with regular frequency, and as the Jackson Jive did – then it better make a concerted effort to understand it.*

*Ironically, the Aussies just got to try the shoe on the other foot when these idiots from Russia did a little Aborigines on Ice routine.

Do I expect this to give the entire nation perspective on the whole Jackson Jive thing? No. But still.


But America has some introspection to do as well, and it better realize that before passing judgment on others – as the media did with this KFC ad – then it too needs to stop being so egocentric and understand other cultures.

And then we can all put some shrimp on the barbie and gobble down some Coon cheese.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Throwin' some parental Kleinballs

The parents have arrived in Sydney! Spent the weekend with them, and on Thursday we head off to Adelaide and the Flinders Ranges. It'll be my first time in the actual Outback, so should be good... although beastly hot.

Speaking of beastly hot, it was 42°C (108°F) in Sydney on Saturday. Then we got a thunderstorm. Then we got some hail.* An hour later, the temperature had dropped by 15°C (27°F).

*I've only seen hail twice in Australia. Each time, my parents were here. Strange.

My dad has somehow developed an unhealthy obsession with lamingtons. So when we went into the city on Saturday, he immediately initiated a frantic search, stopping in every bakery we passed until he got his paws on one.

Two years, four days and four months after I arrived in this country, I finally got myself a New South Wales driver's license last week. Until my California one expires, which unfortunately happens in just a few weeks, I find myself in an ideal situation. For everyday sort of use, the NSW license will make things easier. But on the off chance that I get pulled over by a cop, I can pull out the CA license and plead ignorant.

Bit of a sports deluge the last few weeks. We got the Australian Open in full swing, Australia's playing Pakistan and the West Indies in a series of cricket matches, and I'm doing my best to stay up to date on the football playoffs. Good time of the year to be a sports fan here.

Australia Day is tomorrow. While we won't be going up to Macmasters Beach like two years ago, we'll be doing much of what we did last year at the Ascot: plenty of food, drinks, cricket (playing), cricket (watching on TV), tennis (watching on TV) and music (annual Triple J Hottest 100 countdown).

Couple of big posts planned for the next few weeks. We got a lil' something to do with Portuguese chicken and a lil' something to do with Kentucky Fried Chicken. Although chicken's involved in both, the posts promise to be very different in content.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Avatar: Surely this is all a big joke

In high school, I went to the movies practically every weekend. I loved going to the movies.

In college, I went to the movies once a month, maybe once every two months. I guess I had a few more options to entertain myself. It happens as we exit our teenage years.

Since college, my movie-going has been in constant decline. And now it's gotten to the point where I might go two or three times a year. I find this sad, but only really upon reflection, because I certainly don't do anything to change it.

Avatar broke a loooonnnng movie theater-less streak for me. Before that, I'm really not sure what I'd last seen in a theater. Slumdog Millionaire? It's a distinct possibility. But with Avatar, well, all the makings were there for a mandatory visit to the movies. Based on all the reviews – from critics and friends alike – it promised to be a spectacle of grandiose proportions.

I was not disappointed. Everything I expected from Avatar, I got, and then some. It was truly a cinematic experience; no way you could get that from watching it on a TV, as I generally watch movies these days. Hell, I was so spellbound, that halfway through the movie, I realized my eyes were tearing up because I hadn't blinked in probably half an hour.

It was a great experience. And it even may have rekindled some of that love of the movie-going experience that I'd held so deeply back in high school.

But then, at least to me, a strange and perplexing and infuriating thing happened: serious accolades for Avatar began to come in. As in, 'Best Picture of the Year' accolades. This of course culminated (at least up until now) in the film winning the Golden Globe for best picture (drama) – not to mention best director – on Sunday.

Now. It's one thing for a film to be entertaining, to be visually stunning, to be revolutionary in its production. Avatar was all of these. I'd go as far as to say that that's an inarguable fact. Yet a great movie, these qualities don't necessarily make. Merely a good movie, these qualities don't necessarily make. And as much as I enjoyed Avatar, it's borderline good. That's simply what happens when you take a tired, formulaic story and combine it with some of the most hackneyed, clichéd dialogue imaginable.*

*Back in December, before the movie had been released, Joe Posnanski actually devoted an entire blog post to one line of dialogue from the trailer... a line of dialogue that we're all very familiar with. Needless to say, Posnanski wasn't impressed and wrote off the movie based on that one line.

(I'll also note that Posnanski starts that post in a very similar fashion to how I've started this one. But I'm gonna plead innocent; unless it was subconscious – and I guess I have to concede that that's a distinct possibility – it's completely coincidental.)


What's really sad to me is that we've been down this road before with James Cameron's last epic, Titanic. Visually stunning and supremely well-made? Yes. But a tired and formulaic story combined with some of the most hackneyed, clichéd dialogue imaginable? Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times, yes.

Titanic swept all the award shows. And now I fear that Avatar is going to do the same.

I don't know. Maybe it's just my interpretation of what should constitute a 'Best Picture'. All three Lord of the Rings movies were at least nominated for the Oscar for best picture (with the third installment winning), and while I only saw the first one, I thought that it too fell into the well-made/crap story bucket. (I'm assuming – although potentially very wrongly – that the last two of the trilogy were similar in style and content.) But I look at other Oscar winners from the past, and just about every one is backed by a great and compelling story. Let me repeat that, with some emphasis: a GREAT and compelling story.

In my opinion, Titanic is the rare exception to this rule. I'm guessing that LOTR III is as well. And if Avatar wins the Best Picture Oscar – currently a prohibitive favorite to do so – that'll be one more exception.

Three exceptions to a rule aren't exactly an exception anymore; they become part of the rule. But if a movie only has to be well-made to be considered great, well, then I'm not sure what we're doing anymore.

I'm not saying there isn't a place for movies like Avatar. Of course there's a place for them. There will always be a place for them, and I consider this to be a very good thing. But is one of those places the Golden Globes, or the Oscars? No. Never.

I wish the voters would come to their senses in time for this year's Oscars and deny Avatar the biggest of accolades, but I don't expect that to happen. Maybe it's all just a big joke on me.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

I'm with Coco

Plenty has been said this week about the Conan-Leno saga over The Tonight Show. So apart from saying that I'm firmly on Conan's side, I'm not going to add any more.

But. This video. It's simply brilliant.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Partying like it's 2008

The final days of 2008 were amazing. Those final days were so amazing, in fact, that I essentially did them all over again this year, in the final days of 2009.

Some may view such repetition as a bad thing. I do not. Not when you've identified a surefire recipe for success.

Last year's Christmas was spent with a friend's family – Yogi and the Davis family – overlooking the ocean at Macmasters Beach. This year's Christmas was spent with another friend's family – Shorty and the, uhhhh, Short family – in the slightly less exotic Wagga Wagga.

After driving from Sydney to Wagga on Christmas Eve, I was awoken early the next morning by Shorty's sisters,* both of whom were eager to rip open some gifts before Christmas services.** After a brief, one-hour service – actually pretty painless, especially if you want to put it up against High Holiday services – we were back to the house for a day-long feast.

*Shorty's sisters are in their 20s. Yet to this day they still force the family up at 7 on Christmas morning to open gifts.

**Shorty's birthday quite unfortunately falls on Christmas. So not only did he grow up with the dreaded Christmas/birthday combo gifts, but he's been to Church on his birthday every single year of his life. Even the "but Andy's Jewish!" excuse this year wouldn't fly.

It's absolutely no secret that the Short family can eat. Big time. And we did so on Christmas day, by stuffing ourselves on four varieties of meat – turkey, ham, chicken, pork – and a few of your staple veggies, like potatoes and sweet potatoes and pumpkin. My. Lord.

This was of course topped off by desert, which included fruit salad, ice cream, pavlova, trifle, and the pièce de résistance (well, for me at least), plum pudding with brandy sauce. Oh. My God.

That was lunch. We did it all again for dinner. And then again for breakfast the next day.

We could have kept on feasting on the leftovers all throughout Boxing Day, but instead, it was time to cook up a whole new feast! This time it was to the barbecue, as the Shorts ticked off more types of meat that hadn't been consumed yesterday: rissoles,* sausages and steak. And what Short family barbecue could be complete without a potato bake? Oh, I think there was some salad, too. And most importantly, the plum pudding made another appearance.**

*Basically a hamburger patty, although a little thicker than what you see in the US and usually prepared with herbs and other seasoning mixed in.

**My current list of favorite Australian food that's not commonly available in the US: meat pies, sweet chili sauce, plum pudding with brandy sauce. I'm sure I'm forgetting a few more.

Throughout the day, the rest of our caravan for the trip to Melbourne and Falls converged on Wagga. And so continued the near-identical trip from last year. Again, this isn't a bad thing.

The 27th was a day of transit, from Wagga to Melbourne. We made our way down there by early evening, set up camp at Shorty's brother's apartment, and headed out for a barbecue at a friend's place and drinks. We had a big day ahead of us, so we kind of took it easy. Kind of.

The 28th was Day 3 of the Boxing Day Test match between Australia and Pakistan. First ball at 10:30. Stumps at 6. Seven and a half hours of cricket and no result (not that one was to be expected). I loved it.*

*And bucking the trend that I cited in my post from before this trip, in which I said that I was sports kryptonite for successful home teams, Australia ended up winning this Test match!

And then, it was on to Falls! Up quite early on the 29th, we caravanned it down to Lorne, got to the festival area, slowly made our way to the campsite, set up camp, and got to it.

One massively key point of difference between Falls this year and last year: the weather. Last year, it was freezing at Falls. FREEZING. And rainy. This didn't stop me from having a great time, but it really didn't help. This year? Hot and sunny! And I loved every minute of it.

I'm not sure if the music lived up to last year's, but it was still fantastic, with The Temper Trap, Art Vs Science and Major Lazer being highlights.

And on New Year's Eve, with the Hilltop Hoods on the stage at midnight – a somewhat dubious choice to bring in the New Year, in my opinion – we said goodbye to the Naughts or Naughties or Oughts or whatever the hell we're calling the decade... and then kept on going for several more hours. It was fantastic.

What wasn't fantastic, however, was New Year's Day. First, it had rained that night, and we woke up to a wet and gray morning. Everything was damp. Second, after packing up, it took us all of three and a half hours to drive out of the site. And third, later that night (and perhaps due to an ill-informed lunch of KFC; ironically, my first KFC in exactly a year), my stomach revolted.

Not a great way to start a new year, by any stretch, but the days prior were a great way to close out the preceding one. Just as they were last year.

Farewell, 2009. Helllloooooooooo 2010!