Thinking: Straightjackets

Straitjacket, originally uploaded by Prettyspot.

While watching the incredible film Changeling on the weekend I was struck with the terror that must be felt by people who are put into a psychiatric institution, knowing they don't have a problem, but unable to convince their 'minders' otherwise.

Caroline Collins was placed into psychiatric care by the LAPD, after she tried to uncover a mistake they had made in the search for her missing son. Not wanting to be embarrassed by the mistake, the LAPD instead claimed Caroline had lost her mind. It wasn't the first time they had tried to lock up a troublemaker in this way.

Upon Caroline's admission to the institution, a patient in a similar situation gives her the following advice: "If you smile too much, you're delusional. If you don't smile, you're depressed. If you remain neutral, you're emotionally withdrawn."

Of course Caroline tries to convince the head doctor and nurses that it is all a terrible mistake. You'd have to at least try. But after they put her in a straightjacket and take her struggling body to 'Room 18', she finally realises that nothing she says or does will help her escape: her fate is sealed and whatever she says will be used against her as further evidence of her unsound mind.

In the end, Caroline chooses the frank yet appropriate response to the doctor who 'framed' her: "Fuck you and the horse you rode in on." And I think that's exactly what I'd say too.

Thinking: Position Vacant

Go to any careers advisor and they will tell you that in order to be happy in life you need to follow your dream. "If you find your dream job, you'll never work a day in your life". Blah blah blah. Does anyone actually believe this? And if it is true, how do you even know what your dream job is?

One tip that is common in self-help books, web forums, et al, is to have a go at writing your ideal job ad. The kind of ad that, if you saw it in the newspaper, would excite and inspire you, because you would know it is YOUR dream job.

So here's mine:

Mildly creative yet vague and directionless individual wanted to research current trends, browse bookshops and art galleries, read newspapers and magazines and occasionally cook a gourmet meal.

This is a new position so the final outcomes are not yet clear, however it is expected that you some photography and writing skills are advantageous, as is a business degree. Must be computer literate and possess superior people and communication skills.

A generous remuneration package, expense account, and extensive travel opportunities are on offer to the successful candidate.

This position will be based at home so you must have office space, the desire to work alone and the discipline to set your own hours.

So what do you think - am I asking too much?

Thinking: Landfill

It's hot in Sydney. Maybe not as hot as Melbourne but still hot. Hot enough to lose sleep at night if you don't have the luxury of air-con, or the poor man's equivalent, a fan. So I bought one for the princely sum of $12.59.

Once I finished interpreting the chinglish assembly instructions, and recovering from a flying nut that flew out when I first turned the thing on, I began to feel guilty. Guilty with the knowledge that, one day, that fan will end up in landfill, along with the hundreds of other fans that were running out the door today at Target.

The environment has been on my mind since watching a recent episode of the brilliant Mad Men. Set in the 1950s, the show often depicts things you just don't see any more, like smoking housewives, black maids, and the like. In this episode, the Draper family are having a picnic. When they decide to leave, they simply shake their rubbish-laden picnic rug onto the lawn, jump into their Oldsmobile, and drive off.

For some reason, this really shocked me, that people from my parents generation used to do this to our planet. My first reaction was that it was unsophisticated, even primitive, but I quickly realised that in almost 60 years, we haven't changed that much. We were trashing our planet in the 50s with debris from our picnics, and we rubbish it today with twelve dollar fans from China.

And what's even worse is that I try to relieve my guilt by blogging about it, like somehow it negates the fact that I am also part of this unstoppable beast.

Thinking: Barefoot Society

I haven't worn shoes for ten days. Ten blissful days of freedom, feeling the sand between my toes, the grass beneath my feet, the hot asphalt. But it was only while donning shoes to head up to Kings Cross for some dinner this evening that I really came to appreciate how good living sans-footwear really is.

It seems I'm not alone. There are hundreds of online groups devoted to the barefooted lifestyle. These people live their entire lives barefoot- and what's more, the majority seem to live in places that have real winters. The idea is that when ducking into Dean+Deluca for some New York home cooking, they do it barefoot. When taking the dog out for a pee in foggy Golden Gate Park, they do it barefoot. When buying a coffee at Starbucks, even while at work, they do it barefoot.

So although I might have trouble convincing my employer to let me work barefoot, and the risk of needlestick injury around Kings Cross station may be too great, from now on I consider myself an honorary barefooter and will set my feet free any chance I get.

Thinking: New Month's Resolutions

So we're one month through the year and most of us would have renegged on at least one new year's resolution. Sure, I've been blogging regularly (#1) and exercising more than ever (#2 - although possibly due to some obscenely good weather), but I havent made a dent on that credit card balance (#3) and have definitely consumed more liquid amber than originally intended (#4). Thing is, 12 months is just too long to commit to something.

Which is why I'm proposing New Month's Resolutions (NMRs). I've marked a reminder in my diary for the last day of every month, to set a NMR for the next month. My first NMR is to hand-write all blogs before posting - simple and easy to commit to for the next four-or-so weeks.

I still plan to keep my #1 and #2 resolutions for the entire year (and hopefully beyond), but I hope that for me, NMRs will mean I achieve 12 goals instead of one or two. And I can keep up my beer consumption, at least till next month rolls around...

Thinking: Arts in the USA

I was surprised to learn that the United States doesn't have any representation of Arts at the Senate or federal level. Although this is the land of Paris, Britney, Miley, and many other "artists" who have saturated the world's airwaves knows on a first-name basis, it is also home to one of the world's most dynamic contemporary arts scenes, particularly in Los Angeles and Miami, and, of course, the stalwart that is New York.

With Barack Obama's imminent inauguration, the calls to introduce a Secretary of the Arts are becoming increasingly loud. Arts advocates see Obama - who is said to be the most depicted president-elect in US history and has an iPod stocked with artists as diverse as Bob Dylan, Jay-Z, John Coltrane and Bruce Springsteen - as their greatest chance in decades to make this happen.

Although we in Australia are not seen as being particularly cultured (despite our self-view - perhaps this is the very symbol of being uncultured; when we think we are despite evidence to the contrary), we have federal arts representation sitting within the menagerie of responsibilities under the Department of the Environment, Water, Heritage and the Arts. The Arts component is mainly responsible for literature, film, indigenous arts and administering tax incentives.

It is hoped that a US Secretary of the Arts will be able to increase awareness of America's diverse arts amongst its own people, as well as administer grants, educate young people on art history

However with the country in the midst of an economic crisis, the possibility of Obama adding a new bureaucracy, no matter how committed to the arts he is, seems unlikely.

Thinking: Suicide Towers

Suicide Towers, originally uploaded by traffman.

I've been following the troubles at the 'Three M's' estate in Rosemeadow, on Sydney's outskirts, with great interest over the past couple of weeks. It always fascinates me whether people are a product of their environment, or whether the environment is actually a product of the people.

This photo was taken in the centre of Redfern, where 41.6% of residents live in public housing, according to the 2006 census. Most live in high-density buildings with deceptively quaint names such as James Cook, Joseph Banks, Marton and Turanga.

These buildings, along with Northcott Towers in nearby Surry Hills, were bold social experiments from the 60s, where slums were cleared and residents were moved into new, affordable housing close to work opportunities in Sydney's CBD. Poorly resourced, with inadequate police and community facilities, these grand plans soon turned into a hotbed of violent crime, mental illness and illicit drugs. But in 2006, Northcott became first public housing estate in the world to be recognised as a "safe community" by the World Health Organisation. Brendan Fletcher's excellent documentary 900 Neighbours profiles the huge effort between residents and the wider community that resulted in their building being turned around.

The Three M's estate was developed about 15 years after the Surry Hills and Redfern projects, and was based on the idealistic Radburn Plan, first implemented in Fair Lawn, New Jersey. The concept was to separate traffic and pedestrians by flipping houses so garages face the street and the main house faces a communal parkland at the back, which in turn pioneered the cul-de-sac, that universally adopted symbol of suburbia. What it has meant in Three M's, however, has been isolation and a lack of security and privacy.

Yet other Radburn-based developments, such as Milgate Park Estate in Doncaster East, Melbourne, many parts of Canberra, and even Thurgoona, where I grew up, have not experienced the same social ills as Rosemeadow. So what went wrong at Three M's? Surely if a huge building like Northcott Towers can reinvent itself, it can't be too hard for three suburban streets?

Thinking: Meme

A meme (pronounced /miːm/) comprises a unit or element of cultural ideas, symbols or practices; such units or elements transmit from one mind to another through speech, gestures, rituals, or other imitable phenomena.

In internet land, a meme is just another word to describe a giant in-joke.

I first came across the word when I discovered the Song Chart Meme on flickr. Here, a bunch of people with way too much time on their hands have created graphs and charts to describe their favourite songs. Like these. Can you guess which classic songs they depict?

Kinda like cryptic crosswords, but actually fun.