Who Let The Queers Into Canberra? - Queer Collaborations '09

What do you get when you have 350 queers in a room?
The flu, lots of arguments and a massive headache.

Luckily, that isn’t all that I brought back from QC’09 this year.

Queer Collaborations is an annual event that is run with the help of NUS and other organisations to provide a forum for GLBTI students from around Australia (and the world – there were Canadians there!) to discuss political issues, learn about sexuality and gender, meet a lot of other people and get drunk with them.

We listened to (and at times joined in on) hotly contested debates on Racism and Sexism, asking if it was racist to be attracted to someone because of their skin tone and if men can be victims of sexism or is there a difference between sexism and gender discrimination.

We watched presentations on what it meant to be hetero-normative which led to long and varied discussion about whether it was acceptable to be hetero-normative or whether the presentation itself had been discriminatory towards hetero-normative people.

We went to workshops on polyamory, gender, living with HIV, risk aware sex, Centerlink and the changes to the law, how to be a trans* ally and many other interesting and vitally important topics.

We held two protests – one at Canberra University to protest their closing of the Queer group and freezing of all student group funds by the Uni, and the other in front of Parliament House to demand equal rights for LGBTI couples.

We ran caucus groups (which are interest groups that you can attend if you identify as a part of that group of people) for women, trans*, cultural and language different people, people with ‘dis’abilities.

We held a very moving candlelight vigil in the rain with Amnesty International to remember those who had been victims of hate, oppression and violence due to peoples' lack of understanding about their sexual and gender identities.

We discovered the concept of ‘Safer Spaces’ – not only made safe for us by keeping queerphobia out, but also the need to discipline our own behaviours as adults so that our fellow queers feel safe around us.

We fought and argued. We made up and then argued again. But we did all of this as a community of people with a common identity and without the fear of being boxed in and labeled as being different. We were different to each other, but we gave ourselves the space to celebrate that fact instead of apologising for it.

In conclusion, QC’09 was an amazing week that opened my eyes to a LOT of issues facing queer folk of all sorts of flavours that I had never even thought of before.

I am 35 years old and thought that I had effectively sorted through my sexuality years and years ago. I have also had friends who have sorted through gender issues and felt that I knew enough about things to not be phased or shocked by anything - but this last week has taught me that I don't know anything.

I wasn't shocked or disturbed by what I saw or the people that I met; I was motivated and moved by them. I met people who identify as female, male, neither and both. I met people who are attracted to female, male, neither and both. But most importantly I met people who were intelligent, funny caring and who deserve the same rights as any other people in our country.

Just for the simple fact that whether they are a 'he', 'she', 'they' or an 'it', these people are people.

And these people deserve rights.

I can say this with certainty because I am one of these people - and I want my rights.

By 10 o'clock I'm Back In Bed Fighting The Jury In My Head

It has been a disappointingly long time since I have had anything to write about - and I still don't. I just thought that instead of being alone in my disappointment I would share it with whoever (if there actualy is anyone) reads this.

I have moved house. I was living in a neat little yellow cottage that filled me with inspiration for art and music, and now I am left to rattle around in a large pink house that saps my motivation and makes me feel like things are falling apart. Perhaps it makes me feel this way because the house actually is falling apart. There are holes in walls and the wall paper is peeling off. For the life of me I can't remember why we were inspired to move into this particular house. It has fabulous potential if one wants to work on it, however I am only a tenant and therefore can't start stripping wallpaper and painting doors. I will eventually put some pictures of the house up here for people to look at.

I dropped out of my two classes for this semester (that is, this semester that is now over) and am planning on changing my major to Psychology and my degree to a Bachelor of Social Sciences. I am just waiting on paperwork to be processed. I was speaking with the husband of my science lecturer the other day (whom I know through work) and he passed on that my lecturer missed having me in her class and was sorry to see me drop the course. I miss being in her class - she is a fantastic teacher.

Emotionally things have been difficult for me. The line from 'Blake Says' by Amanda Palmer seems apt lately - "And Blake's been having trouble with his head again. He takes his pills, but never takes his medicine." I've been taking my meds as well as I can remember, but I feel miserable all of the time. I had a really bad time a couple of weeks ago and was wanting to just stop everything, but I feel that I'm pulling back from that and slowly slowly getting back to normal. What is normal, anyways?

I've been getting involved with the Queer Collective at Uni, which I am enjoying doing. I'm meeting some really lovely, thoughtful and intelligent people... and am thinking of becoming involved in the SRC as well. It has been too long a time to sit silently by and watch things happen without saying anything. Fight the Power and Damn the Man. I think that people are going to be surprised when they find out who the Man actually is.

To Sleep, Perchance To Dream...

A Nauseous Nocturne
From: The Essential Calvin and Hobbes

Another night deprived of slumber, Hours passing without number, My eyes trace 'round the room. I lay 
 Dripping sweat and now quite certain That tonight the final curtain Drops upon my short life's precious play. 
 From the darkness, by the closet Comes a noise, much like a faucet Makes: a madd'ning drip-drip-dripping sound. 
 It seems some ill-proportioned beast, Anticipating me deceased, Is drooling poison puddles on the ground. 
 A can of Mace, a forty-five, Is all I'd need to stay alive, But no weapon lies within my sight. 
 Oh my gosh! A shadow's creeping, Omnious and black, it's seeping Slowly 'cross a moonlit square of light! 
 Suddenly a floorboard creak Announces the bloodsucking freak Is here to steal my future years away!
 A sulf'rous smell now fills the room Heralding my imm'nent doom! A fang gleams in the dark and murky gray! 
 Oh, blood-red eyes and tentacles! Throbbing, pulsing ventricles! Mucus-oozing pores and frightful claws! 
 Worse, in terms of outright scariness, Are the suckers multifarious That grab and force you in its mighty jaws! 
 This disgusting aberration Of nature needs no mitivation To devour helpless children in their beds.
 Relishing despairing moans, It chews kids up and sucks their bones, And dissolves inside its mouth their li'l heads! 
 I know this 'cause I read it not Two hours ago, and then I got The heebie-jeebies and these awful shakes. 
 My parents swore upon their honor That I was safe, and not a goner. I guess tomorrow they'll see their sad mistakes. 
 In the morning, they'll come in And say, "waht was that awful din We heard last night? You kept us both from sleep!" 
 Only then will they surmise The gruesomeness of my demise And see that my remains are in a heap. 
 Dad will look at Mom and say, "Too bad he had to go that way." And Mom will look at Dad, and nod assent. 
 Mom will add, "Still, it's fitting, That as he was this world quitting, He should leave another mess before he went." 
 They may not mind at first, I know. They will miss me later, though, And perhaps admit that they were wrong.
 As memories of me grow dim, They'll say, "We were too strict with him. We should have listened to him all along." 
 As speedily my end approaches, I bid a final "buenas noches" To my best friend here in all the world.
 Gently snoring, whiskers seeming To sniff at smells (he must be dreaming), He lies snugled in the blankets, curled. 
 HEY! WAKE UP, YOU STUPID CRETIN! YOU GONNA SLEEP WHILE I GET EATEN?! Suddenly the monster knows I'm not alone! 
 There's an animal in bed with me! An awful beast he did not see! The monster never would've come if he had known! 
 The monster, in his consternation, Demonstated defenestration, And runs and runs and runs and runs away. 
 Rid of the pest, I now cah rest, Thanks to my best friend, who saved the day.

More Love from the SOH

End Music (to a Film) by Radiohead has always been an emotional and inspiring song for me.  It is the reason I have my 'Breathe' tattoo on the inside of my left wrist.  Seeing Amanda finally play it live, and to be able t sit only meters away from her while she excuded such raw energy and passion was astounding.  I wish that A had been there to witness the event so he can understand my obsession with her music.

This taping is the reason that we were so late being allowed into the venue.

Amanda Palmer:  Exit Music (for a Film) by Radiohead from shoottheplayer.com on Vimeo.

And then there is Creep - another Radiohead song that has become a staple.  Nobody does it like AFP - dressed in rufflies with a ukele.

Not so much breaking the law as just bending it slightly

Oh no! I am a criminal.

I am sitting in the library at Uni waiting to meet a 'client'. She should be here between 2.30pm and 3.30pm.

It really isn't anything as interesting as you might be wishing that it is. The University library supplies us with a copy of EndNoteX1, which is a clever little program that compiles all of your references and creates a bibliography or reference list for you at the end of your essay. The issue is that it is far surpassed by EndNoteX2 (which incidentally also works well on Macs, where X1 doesn't...), however the University won't pay for access to X2 for it's students. Cheap Bastards.

So, I happened to come across a copy of X2 (one for the PC and one for the Mac) and have them on a USB drive that I am sharing around with people.

Fight the Power!
Damn the Man!
Share the Software!

Ok, maybe I've seen Empire Records one too many times.

Amanda Palmer at the SOH

Watch more YouTube videos on AOL Video

Amanda Palmer is one of my favourite artists. She is passionate, alive, bawdy and vibrant.

I was so lucky to be able to see her in concert a couple of weeks ago. It was simply the best concert I have ever seen, and I can't imagine seeing anything to top it.

We bought the tickets before Christmas, and I was really nervous about going. Not only because of the idea of the crowd, but for the fact that I was going to meet some SGF friends in person for the first time. The concert was at the Sydney Opera House (the above clip is actually from the night that I was there), in The Studio which is a lovely small venue, very intimate. We were right at the front of the floor area which had been set with tables and chairs, giving the theatre a lovely cabaret style feel to it.

She performed with a string accompaniment and with the theatrical assistance of The Danger Ensemble, doing songs from her new album "Who Killed Amanda Palmer?" and some Dresden Dolls work as well.

I wish that there was more footage of the night to show you. And more footage to relive.

She Would Drive Satan's Own Mother To Tears

I had an interesting moment of self-awareness at work last night.  I am currently working at a hospital in the regional area of NSW I live in… no, it isn’t the hospital that has been in the news a lot.  Well, not anymore it isn’t.

I am listed on the casual staffing pool and have only had a half dozen shifts so far, most of which I have been working with different staff members, and all in all they have been quite a lovely group of people to deal with.  Except for the occasional racist remark that makes my hand itch to slap someone, but you tend to get comments like that in the more regional and rural areas of most countries.

Last night I was working with a person who just shit me to tears every time she opened her mouth, which is to say constantly.  I arrived home and T asked me how my night at work had been, she also reminded me to take my medication as I had forgotten to do so for the two days before that.

Then it dawned on me… did this woman constantly annoy me because I had forgotten my meds for two days?  Was my reaction to her the fault of my own lacking discipline?  Perhaps she was a pleasant and cheerful woman who had been trying to help me feel that I fit in to a new workplace.

Nah, she is a Nazi cunt from Hell.