Gateway Racism

Need a light - JDM Media

Damn, living Indian stereotypes piss me off. 

Last week I started working as a dishy at a restaurant called the Boat House 20 minutes down the road. It's alright for a dishy job, so for now it's going to keep me above water while I look for something better. 

The one problem with it isn't the work, it's my colleague. 

Tornado, his name is. I guess that must be an Indian name. He's the most frantic man this side of the black sea and needs everything to be done his way. I can't even work without him going "No, bad." then giving me something else to do. 

I'm exposed to this kind of irritation and the only thing that sets him apart from everyone else is the fact that he's Indian. So now my brain is slowly liking annoyance to Indians and I can't let that happen. 

We all know that racism towards Indians is healthier than cigarettes for way more of a buzz. If you still want to be racist, but don't want all the negative side effects of other racisms, the Indian root is your best choice. But kids, rascism towards Indians is more than just an easy to access, harmless, legal-in-some-states racism. It's a gateway racism.

That's right, a gateway racism. You see you start with the Indians, pointing out something half funny about their accent but everyone laughs cause they're racist. Then one of your friends might see an Asian and do the stretchy eye thing. You're confused inside and a little scared. You've heard stories of people falling into comas from Asian racism. But, you've become used to your Indian racism and think to give it a try. You utter a racial slur under your breath, then suddenly you've crossed the tipping point.

You've begun a long spiraling nose dive. You being to become racists towards specific countries, beginning with Ethiopia and ending up at France of Holland trying to quench your thirst for unwarranted racism. When there are no countries left to try, you start looking for new things to be racist against and before you know it you've hit the lowest of the low: You're racist against left-handed people. 

It's an epidemic in Australia. Watch the video, http://www.salon.com/2012/09/30/is_it_okay_to_be_left_handed/ 

Last week when I was taking pictures of Cameron busking, I met two guys who asked Cam if they could light their cigarettes with his poi. I thought that was such a cool idea so I asked them to do it again and snapped some shots. After they left, we also met two German girls who were couch surfing and had no where to go. I let them use ours for the night. 

I have to remember that Tornado is one of a kind, a living stereotype that isn't a model of all Indians. If not, I could fall into the racism trap and next time I find two couch surfing Germans I'll be too racist to give them a place to stay. 

- James

Light me up - JDM Media

Cameron loves vodka

Bird in flight - JDM Media

Damn, birds are fast. 

Bird eating therefore not f*cking
moving - JDM Media

So I got a call today saying I didn't get the school photography job that I'd wanted because I lived to far away. I'd like to believe that is the only reason why they didn't hire me, so I will. 

It's sad, but there's plenty of other opportunities cropping up out of absolutely no where. Yesterday, Cameron and I were walking in Melbourne and saw a little arts market down an alleyway. I like arts markets, so I went down to take a look. The guy who runs it saw me with a guitar bag on my back with a fire staff sticking out. He stopped me then asked if I busk. I said yes and so now he wants to arrange for Cameron and I to perform at the market. I think that's pretty cool.

Second, I got an email from a writing agency giving me some writing exercise to do. I had to write product descriptions and a fake blog post. I did that and sent it back so hopefully they'll get back to me by Monday. I've got a dish washing job right now paying $17 an hour which is keeping me above water. I just want to find a decent job before I go back home.

Cameron meet vodka watermelon

On the other side of things me and my flat have been partying hard. The other week, Cameron's friend Adam came over from New Zealand to visit. He was a good guy, fun to talk to and amazing at playing hillbilly songs about porcupines.

To the left you will see the result of finding out the Aldi nearby sells vodka combined with discovering the one dollar a kilo watermelons from the market next door. The only logical thing to do was to carve a hole in the top of the watermelon and drain the vodka inside. The second logical step was to give it to Cameron since the vodka sits better if you give it some affection.

Once we cut up out creation everyone said cheers and we all dug in. All we'd accomplished was making a watermelon taste like vodka. Eric said the vodka was too strong, but I think Cameron went a little too far with his lovin'.

- James

My Fire Staff

My new fire staff - Eric Provencher

I took none of the pictures in this post!

Last weekend I went to a circus store with Cameron and saw a fire staff. I had to have it. 

In Canada I used to practice bow staff after Matt gave me one. I didn't get that good at it, mainly because every time I messed up it would damn near knock me out. It was three times heavier than my new one, plus I couldn't light it on fire. 

The practice tree - Eric Provencher

For the last week I've gone out to practice for an hour everyday. I normally just walk down to the park next to my house and stand in front of one of the trees. 

It's become a ritual. I feel extremely calm when I'm spinning the staff. Well, I'm calm until it hits me and I throw it at the tree in frustration. 

Most of the time there is no one in the park, so it's just me surrounded by trees, the river and birds flying around. I don't make a sound, so it feels like I'm in Lord of the Rings or something practicing how to fight. It's an image I will use in my writing soon, as I am determined to start writing my book again. 

Throw - Eric Provencher

Anyway, I practiced it for about a week until I decided I was going to light it on fire. The thing about my staff in particular is that their are four pieces of wrapped Kevlar on each end meaning I could probably create some interesting effects with salts that burn different colors. I was going to light each spoke one by one as I got better, but it turns out each one is too small to be lit individually. So I lit two so far, and I will light them all next time.

Fire staff - Andreanne

I'm also trying to do something I've never done before and become good at contact staff. Contact staff is when you flip the staff around without using your hands at all. Instead you use your forearms to balance it in the air and guide it wherever you want it to go. My style is very aggressive and strike oriented, so I think bringing some contact staff into it will add more tranquility to the dance.

Now, why would you want to learn to do fire staff? Wouldn't it be a waste of time when you could be getting a career instead.

Melted face - Andreanne

Well, yesterday me and Cameron went busking in Red Square in Melbourne. We busked for a little less than three hours when the rain and wind forced us into the shopping center near by. We talked to lots of people and almost got filmed for a street art show. We also left with a guitar bag with $93.20 in it.

This was on a rainy Monday night. Imagine when all the drunkards are out on Friday. They'll throw money at us.

So, if I can get good at fire dancing I can always have a side job (or a job if I'm unemployed). I mean everyone loves fire. EVERYONE.

Anyway, I've gotta go practice.

-James

Great shot - Andreanne

Melbourne Botanical Gardens

Melbourne fountain - JDM Media

Some building - JDM Media

The Melbourne council has failed its tourists because it does not emphasis the dangers of the Botanical Gardens. I believe it may be a ploy to attract the unaware traveler to the place, so that they do not feel as though the gardens are a bad investment.

Where do I begin.

The other day Agathe and I went down to the botanical gardens. She had one of those walking tour guides where you follow the numbers on the map. For the first twenty minutes we thought we were in the Botanic gardens. We were wrong.

A gate to the gardens
- JDM Media

After a wander past a few statues of people we didn't really know, we came to a gate covered in spikes about 4 inches long. The arch above was wrapped in barbed wire. It looked like the teeth of a monstrous guard dog. Beside the door a sign read “closes at sunset”.

Despite the savage entrance and the sighting of plants shaped like lost souls we entered. These were the true botanical gardens.

Light through the trees - JDM Media

Past the gate we saw no one, only a path flanked by trees and plants of all categories. There was something serene about the place. The sweet scent of fresh fauna seeped into our lungs and any fear the gate had created was instantly expelled. The path beckoned, and so we followed without question.

As dancing birds and whispering trees passed on either side, we came to a clearing. It was a small area of grass with a garden of pink bushes and a lonely blossoming tree. Agathe told me it was her favorite tree, a Jacaranda mimosifolia. It reminded me of the rose from Beauty and the Beast whose petals slowly fell one by one, the last marking the beast’s inability to escape his curse.

Jacaranda Mimosifolia - JDM Media

We lay down in the grass for a while. We didn't say anything, just stared at the sky occasionally taking a picture of the tree and the bush. It was picture perfect. Colors seemed not to match their objects, as if the entire area were an impressionist painting. A small boy ran by chasing birds. His father walked briskly behind him leaving his pram unattended.

Little did he know the evil that his crisps, left behind unguarded on the pushchair, would unleash.

No brochure warned us. No sign gave us guidance. No information office advised us.

They came from nowhere, creating black voids of avian shapes dashing across the picturesque gardens. They sat on benches and hoped across the grass. I’m talking, of course, about crows.

Demon head turn

I saw one of the little horrors on a bench next to the blossom tree. It head was turned completely to see behind. An ability of demons I assume.

Phase out

One of the scariest things about crows is their ability to phase in and out of existence. I am proud of the following picture. It’s difficult to photography something phasing out of existence.

Crisp steal

Once the crows had caught the scent of the crisps (and fear), they came in a pair. They tore the packet from the prams womb. Its rustling cries echoed in the clearing. I couldn't bear to watch, but my camera’s eye is merciless.

Crisp steal phase out

After stealing the newborn chip bag, the pair took a second to torture it slightly before being summoned back to their master. The crows faded out of existence midflight, taking the bag with them.

We fled the gardens after that, leaving the observation tower and a strange ball monument in our wake. I will never forget the incident with the crows. I will never speak of it again, lest history repeat itself.

The devils garden - JDM Media

-         - James