Over the last couple weeks, controversy has been brewing over a much publicised episode of Channel Seven’s stalwart soapie ‘Home and Away’, in which two female characters, Charlie Buckton (Esther Anderson) and Joey Collins (Katie Bell), are seen kissing. When so-called ‘conservative groups’ got wind of the lesbian storyline the all too familiar cries of disgust and outrage – coupled with the tiresome accusations of moral impropriety – were splashed liberally across the domestic and international media.

However, in spite of the myriad criticisms and complaints that Seven has reportedly received since the lesbian love-plot began some six weeks ago, ‘the kiss’ was aired on last night’s episode of ‘Home and Away’. Kinda.

You see, when filming the more intimate moments between Charlie and Joey, two scenes were put to tape. The first being ‘a very gentle, loving, sensual, tender kiss’ – according to Bevan Lee, the Head of Creative Drama and Development at Seven – and the second being ‘a more lusty follow up’. Only the former made it to air.

According to an article in ‘The Australian’ newspaper, Channel Seven decided to remove the second kiss from the episode in order to appease ‘conservative lobby groups’ and prevent the further loss of ratings. The aforementioned Mr Lee, however, argues that the lustier kiss was removed purely for artistic reasons and that the article appearing in ‘The Australian’ was an ill-informed beat-up.

To be honest, I don’t think it matters why the second kiss was removed, but it does matter why we are still having this debate at all. Why such outrage over a simple kiss?

Aaah, but of course, it’s not just any kiss, it’s the most feared of all the small screen kisses – the gay kiss. Seriously, are we still living in the 1950s here? Do we still honestly believe that homosexuality is a disease?

Apparently we do. Feast your vile jellies on this completely unbiased clip from ‘Today Tonight’ that in no way seeks to defend ‘Home and Away’ based purely on the fact that the two programmes belong to the same network. More specifically, let’s focus on the drivel that spews forth from ‘youth minister’ Andrew Bynes – he’s the annoying little weed that we first see 53 seconds into the clip.

The following statement of his seems to be fairly representative of the argument employed by the conservative lobby groups – ‘I know my little kids are very impressionable, they believe what they see on TV, most of the time, and this kind of model of relationships and morality is actually undermining what me (sic.) as a parent is trying to do in my own home’. That’s right folks, we gotta protect them kids.

I’m being slightly conservative myself when I say that I only have three concerns with Mr Bynes statement. First of all, why is it that ‘Home and Away’ is able to frequently air plotlines that deal with drug use, murder and rape and no one expresses a concern about the potential effects that such themes might have on children, but yet a simple lesbian kiss – the culmination of a romantic plotline some six weeks in length – has the conservatives up in arms?

Secondly, Mr Bynes, if you have such a problem with the ‘model of relationships’ being presented to your young children by such television shows, then turn the TV off. Problem solved.

Finally, and far more importantly, isn’t it about time that we stopped teaching our kids that homosexuality is undesirable, dangerous and unnatural?

Angela Conway from Pro-Family Perspectives doesn’t seem to think so. As seen in the aforementioned clip, she would go so far as to say that ‘these kind of ways of presenting sexuality are actually quite damaging to young people’. Yep, apparently showing two women falling in love and expressing that love by way of a single kiss is not only undesirable, but damaging to the young ‘uns.

The thing that Ms Conway fails (or refuses) to see is that there actually are gay people out there. Around 10% of the population if you believe some estimates. What kind of environment are we creating when homosexuality is viewed as unnatural, abnormal and damaging? What kind of message are we sending to young homosexual men and women when the most innocuous of lesbian love-scenes is met with derision and disgust from prominent members of the community?

Is it any wonder that young men and women – on discovering that they are gay – are so scared to tell their friends and family? Is it any wonder that gay men and women feel like they are so blatantly disciminated against?

I would love to be a fly on the wall the day that one of Andrew Bynes kids comes home from school and says; ‘Dad, I think I’m gay’. The irony and hilarity of the situation would only be matched by the anger and sorrow you would feel the moment that you realise that Mr Bynes is probably one of those fuckwits that would ship his kids off to ‘Straight Camp’ in an attempt to rid them of their ‘disease’.

It’s about time we stepped out of the dark ages and had a good hard look at ourselves and the way that gay people are treated in this country. It’s time to let go of outdated and blatantly discriminatory religious dogma that alienates large portions of our society and causes unecessary anguish and distress for so many people.

I can’t think of any better way to end this discussion than by pointing you in the direction of the following article, published on the ‘Herald Sun’ website some weeks ago. It reveals that Australian actress Melissa George, of ‘Alias’ fame, is joining the cast of ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ as Sadie Harris, an intern at Seattle Grace Hospital. In choosing a headline for the article authors Erin McWhirter and Darren Devlyn could have made reference to Ms George’s previous work with ‘Alias’, ‘Home and Away’ or ‘In Treatment’, or, if they were looking for a racy headline that would be sure to stir up controversy, they could have alluded to the fact that Ms George’s character has a propensity for self-mutilation. But oh no, they went one better – ‘Melissa George joins Grey’s Anatomy as lesbian’.

Sorry kids, no ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ for you tonight. But it’s all right, it’s for your own good…

I think it’s about time that I came clean with you all – I have an addiction. No, it’s not illicit substances or barely legal pornography that keeps me up at night – no pun intended – it’s far more tragic than that – I just can’t get enough of rich-teen comedy/drama TV shows.

I first became aware of my problem some years ago whilst enjoying ‘Schoolies Week’ with some high school mates. In amongst the beer guzzling, trolley stealing and more beer guzzling there was one particular event that punctuated our week down at a mate’s mate’s house in Torquay – the insistance by at least half of the group that all activities be ceased at 8:30pm on the night in question so that the season two finale of ‘The O.C’ might be watched distraction free. At the time I was more than aware of the irony of the situation – a bunch of young blokes swilling beer and watching decidedly un-blokey TV – and I half-watched the episode through a lens of derision and sarcastic comments.

Fast forward a few months and I had picked myself up a nasty little habit. I had purchased the complete first season of ‘The O.C’ on DVD and was going through the episodes faster than Nadya Suleman will be going through nappies. Before long I had convinced myself that $70 was a more than reasonable price to pay for season two, and I set about getting myself up-to-date with everything that had led up to the second season finale, which I had reluctantly viewed some months previous.

‘The O.C’ just seemed to have it all – a catchy theme tune, hot young men and women cavorting around on the beach, and the sort of day-to-day dramas that, while seemingly earth-shattering to the characters involved, cause the audience little anguish, safe in the knowledge that everything will return to normal by episode’s end. It was the perfect feel-good drug – 41 minutes of sexy, funny and (importantly) commercial-free bliss. And then the episode would end.

As the credits rolled I would realise that, rather than sitting next to my amazingly beautiful girlfriend by the swimming pool of my $6 million house in sunny California, I was sprawled all over the couch in my suburban Melbourne lounge room at three o’clock in the morning, decidedly girlfriend free. I would try to convince myself -‘surely there is time for one more episode before bed’ – just one more hit of the drug, one more hour away from reality.

Amazingly, the season two finale of ‘The O.C’ saw the end of my infatuation with the lovely folks of Newport Beach. I quit cold-turkey, leaving the sun, sex and $70 box-sets behind me. Until now.

For two months over Christmas the lovely lady friend and I found ourselves backpacking around Europe, having a most wonderful time along the way. As we worked our way around the various non-English speaking countries we found ourselves desperately in search of a TV program that wasn’t in Greek, Italian, French or German – even Australia’s own ‘Neighbours’ and ‘Home & Away’ had been dubbed into various non-English languages.

In Santorini our wishes would be answered, but, unknowingly, it would lead me toward the most cruel of relapses. As we flicked between dodgy game shows and unintelligible new bulletins we stumbled upon one solitary program being transmitted in English – ‘Gossip Girl’. At first it was just a relief to be able to watch something on TV and understand the dialogue, but it wasn’t long before I had laid the foundations for another shocking addiction.

Some weeks after returning to Melbourne I remembered that night in Santorini and set about getting myself back into the rich and beautiful world of ‘Gossip Girl’. For all intents and purposes ‘The O.C’ and ‘Gossip Girl’ are quite similar – a bunch of teenagers date and sleep with each other while experiencing the highs and lows of having been born to ultra-rich parents – just substitute the beach-front living of Newport with the sexy streets of Manhattan and you are most of the way there. You still have the ultra-slick and snappy production, some pretty cool tunes, witty dialogue by characters that seem to know exactly what to say all the time, and of course, the frequent and often predictable dramas that resolve themselves so neatly and unrealistically by episode’s end.

But hey, that’s why we watch isn’t it? Who would wanna watch a TV show where the handsome guy and his beautiful girlfriend get into a screaming match only to not have make-up sex, instead going on to never speak to one another ever again ruining an otherwise completely satisfying story arc?

Speaking of ruining a completely satisfying story arc, you know you are hooked when your day is ruined by the sudden interruption of the episode you are watching by the message; ‘You have watched 72 minutes of video today – please wait 55 minutes or subscribe to the MegaVideo premium service’.

So there you have it folks – rich-teen comedy/dramas are my drug of choice, and if you will excuse me, I believe episode 12 has just finished buffering…

As bushfires continue to tear through bushland, homes and communities in south-eastern Australia, the national and international communities have rallied behind the Victorian people. The BBC and CNN have both dedicated the front pages of their respective websites to coverage of the crisis, and the leaders of numerous countries have contacted the Australian and Victorian governments offering their condolences and/or assistance in the rebuilding efforts. Amid all the heartbreak and suffering that has erupted from the fires it is truly inspiring to see the extent to which people are banding together in support of those that have been affected. The occasion of tonight’s One Day International cricket match between Australia and New Zealand was used to stage a major fundraising effort, with an incredible $6 million raised. In the first two days of the Victorian Bushfire Fund, public donations alone reached $30 million, which didn’t include corporate or government donations.

Despite the amazing generosity and goodwill of people around the country and indeed around the world, the disaster has brought out the worst in many people, or so Channel Nine would have us believe. On their late-night news update this evening we saw one reporter interview a guy who was lucky enough not to lose his house but who, Channel Nine were more than eager to tell us, was going to stay home for fear of his personal belongings being taken by looters. In fact, the angle taken by the Channel Nine reporter seemed to be entirely spin, given that the gentleman in question described in some detail how he still had everything he needed at home, so he might as well stay – the bit about the looters seemed more of an afterthought. But of course, a bloke having a bit of a feed in front of the telly with his missus ain’t a great story. Blokes comin’ onto ya land and stealing shit, well that’s real human drama. Unless it isn’t actually the case.

And while we are on the topic of Channel Nine, do we really need to be convinced that people are suffering? As a student of the news, journalism and the media in general I’ve learnt a few things along the way. One of those things is that the news is supposed to be used to inform the masses – keep people updated with the goings-on around the place. You know, news. Channel Nine seem to think that ‘news’ means creating some slick, over-produced package which is powered by the strength of human emotion. Sure, it’s sad that people have lost their lives, no one is doubting that, but you don’t need to tell us that it is sad. Using words like ‘torment‘, ‘suffering‘, ‘apocalypse‘, ‘battlefield‘ and constructing your news bulletins from nothing more than interviews with grief-stricken people telling their stories of woe is not news, it is entertainment. Think of it as a movie if you will; you have your beginning – Victoria suffers through an unprecedented heatwave leading to multiple deadly bushfires – you have your middle – hundreds of people die and thousands are left mourning for those they have lost – and you have your as-yet-unrealised happy ending – the fires burn out and, thanks to the unbelievable generosity of people everywhere, the decimated communities are rebuilt. You have your heroes – CFA, DSE, the State and Federal Governments, depending on your opinion – and you have your villains – firebugs, Satan, Mother Nature, the State and Federal governments, depending on your opinion. As the film plays out, the audience is kept enthralled by the unfolding human drama, the shocking images of communities burnt to the ground, and most importantly, the videos of distraught people who have lost loved ones, houses or both.

You see, this isn’t news. News doesn’t tell people what to think – it doesn’t tell people that they should feel sad for those who have suffered, or angry at those who would potentially steal the belongings of others in the ensuing chaos. That’s not to say that we shouldn’t feel sad for some people and angry at others but we don’t need to be told to feel those emotions – the enormity of the situation, the shocking images and videos and the statistics do the job already. That is, good news tells us the facts – what has happened, when, how, why and to whom – it doesn’t cast judgement, instead allowing the audience that privelege – and finally, good news is objective – it doesn’t put a emotional spin or a slant on a story in order to capture or entertain an audience.

But, as always, there is someone else far more worthy of derision and abuse than the would-be Hollywood film studios/commercial television networks. Meet Pastor Danny Nalliah. This genius, a Pentecostal church leader and the man behind ‘Catch the Fire Ministries’ has declared that the Victorian bushfire crisis is the direct result of the ‘Decriminalisation of Abortion Bill’ being passed through State Parliament late last year. Yep, you read it correctly, and if you don’t believe me, check it out for yourself. For those of you who can’t be arsed reading through the media release I’ll give you the condensed version. Mr Nalliah was apparently dreaming his little Pentecostal dreams one night last year when suddenly everything changed and all he could see was ‘fire everywhere with flames burning very high and uncontrollably’. His good mate God was good enough to send His Spirit down to interpret the dream, using the following words; ‘(God’s) conditional protection has been removed from the nation of Australia, in particular Victoria, for approving the slaughter of innocent children in the womb’. Therefore, after seeing the widespread fires in Victoria and remembering his dream from last year, Mr Nalliah came out this week and publicly announced that the bushfire crisis is God’s way of punishing us for legalising abortion.

Is there anyone out there that actually thinks this is a good thing to say? Hundreds of people are dead, thousands are without homes and this bloke reckons that it’s an opportune time to preach bullshit lies about how we should feel guilty for giving women a choice when it comes to what they do or don’t do with their own bodies? I’ve heard of some fairly ordinary people saying some fairly ordinary things but you, Mr Nalliah, are right up there with the best of them. I mean, let’s just throw all human decency, rationality and reasoning to the side for a moment and assume that Mr Nalliah is correct in thinking that God exists and is punishing Victoria for adopting measures that decriminalise abortion – what kind of God is he proposing? Are we to believe that God, who loves us oh-so dearly (Deuteronomy 23:5), hates us legalising abortion so much that he would kill hundreds of innocent people and displace thousands more? That doesn’t sound like the sort of God that I would want to spend my life idolising, dedicating my time to, or having anything to do with, at all. And what’s this about us being ‘open for the devil to destroy’? Why is it that God is all powerful, all knowing, and all loving and yet sometimes the devil just manages to sneak past God’s watch and, you know, kill hundreds of people? What? God let the devil do it because we deserved it? Oh ok, that makes perfect sense.

Still, it’s all good because Mr Nalliah is going to ‘spearhead an effort to provide every assistance to devastated communities’. Here’s a better idea Mr Nalliah – why don’t you spear your own head, shut your fucking mouth, and do as the name of your ministry suggests and ‘catch the fire’, or was that catch on fire. You know, like those 200 other people did when they ‘turned (their) back(s) on Him, (becoming) an open target for the devil to destroy‘…

For those of you who have been living under a rock for the last couple days, there have been a few of the ol’ bush fires around. In the days preceding yesterday’s extreme weather conditions, the Bureau of Meteorology had been predicting the highest fire danger in the state’s history. This is one prediction that they surely wouldn’t have minded getting wrong but alas, they were spot on. Temperatures in Melbourne reached 46.4 degrees celcius, with 47.9 degrees apparently recorded in Avalon. You have to feel a certain degree of pity for those Jetstar passengers who, thinking that they were flying to ‘Melbourne’, arrive at a tiny airstrip an hour’s drive from their destination only to be confronted with the highest temperatures in the state’s history and 100kph winds. Welcome to Victoria.

All silliness aside, it truly has been a horrific couple of days for all those affected by the bushfires and with the death-toll well on it’s way to 100, the events of the last couple days have almost been as deadly as 1939′s ‘Black Friday’ and ‘Ash Wednesday’ combined.
For those of us sitting in air-conditioned houses far from the many fires burning around the state, it is hard to imagine what it must be like to lose everything you have ever owned in just a matter of minutes. We look on with sadness and anguish as our fellow Victorians suffer. We also look on with great admiration and respect toward the tens of thousands of women and men, mostly volunteers, who have given countless hours to fighting the fires, organising relief efforts and supporting the many that have suffered as a result of the fires.

It is in testing times such as these that the difference in quality between the various media outlets becomes most obvious. Where ABC radio in Victoria dedicated it’s entire Saturday to live courage and updates on the fire situation, keeping listeners informed and aware, the commercial television networks’ dramatic coverage play like a cheesy horror film. Words like ‘inferno’, ‘nightmare’, ‘post-apocalyptic’, ‘war zone’ and ‘hell on earth’ are bandied around like they are going out of fashion. One woman on Channel Nine’s coverage this evening even referred to the devestation around her home as being ‘like the Holocaust’.

Furthermore, while interviewing people who have lost everything in the fires might be good to give everyone else a bit of perspective on the issue, surely a bit of sensitivity would be the order of the day? I refer to a specific incident during Channel Seven’s news bulletin last night in which a reporter was interviewing a gentleman who had lost his home and nearly his life in the fire. Obviously quite distressed,the gentleman told the story of how his home had been lost in the flames, before he promptly broke into tears. The reporter replied with the question ‘how are you travelling?‘ Well, I’ve got a couple of ideas. The bloke has just lost his house in the worst bushfires in recorded history and has subsequently broken down into a sobbing mess while explaining the obviously painful situation on camera. But no, he’s doing great, thanks for asking.

Potentially worse than using distraught people in order to create a compelling news package full of human drama is the sort of parochialism that commercial networks are famous for.
Last night, during Channel Seven’s coverage of the bushfires, anchor Jennifer Kyte spent a good ten minutes of the bulletin speaking to a colleague of hers whose house and wife were under threat from the fires, prefaced with the puzzling and almost offensive remark ‘the fires do not discriminate, I speak now with my fellow Channel Seven reporter, …’ (So by virtue of being a reporter with Channel Seven this reporter should, by rights, be less susceptible to suffering, a right which the bushfires somehow circumvented?)

The clearly distressed reporter explained to Kyte and those watching that he had no idea if his house would survive the blaze and, in between ferocious sobs, explained that his wife’s fate was also unknown. Now I don’t mean to sound harsh – I’m sure the reporter was genuinely mortified at the prospect of losing his wife and to a lesser extent his home – but the scenario faced by the gentleman in question was by no means unique and it is only by virtue of his employment with Channel Seven that the aforementioned interview made it to air. Would Channel Seven have aired a ten minute segment for every man who was worried about losing his home and/or wife? I think we know the answer to that one.

The Channel Nine ‘family’ appears to have suffered to an even greater extent, losing former anchorman Brian Naylor to the fire burning in and around Kinglake. Much like Channel Seven the previous evening, Nine spent the best part of fifteen minutes this evening reporting on the apparent death of Naylor, the two reporters in question remarking how ‘he always had his phone on and we had a sick feeling in our stomachs as we called him on our way up the mountain and he didn’t answer’, how great a bloke he was, and how ‘there was no way he would have left his wife’s side‘. I don’t doubt that he will be sorely missed and that Channel Nine felt a responsibility to honour their past champion, but what about the other 83 people who are confirmed dead? How many ‘good blokes’ are among that lot? Where is their fifteen minutes of fame? How many other people have tried to call family and friends and been confronted with chillingly happy answering machine messenges?

The real vitriol should perhaps be directed at the arsonists who are allegedly responsible for a number of the fires. One of the largest of the fires, the one responsible for Brian Naylor’s death, was allegedly lit by an arsonist and has now taken over a dozen lives and around 500 homes. It takes a special kind of person to light a fire in a thickly forested area like that, knowing that extreme temperatures and heavy winds will spread the blaze beyond control. Premier Brumby recently announced a dramatic increase in jail sentences for those that start fires – from two years up to the current sentence of 15 years – and for those that start fires that result in the loss of life, 25 years behind bars can be expected.

To everyone affected by the fires of the last couple days, our thoughts are with you and we hope for a speedy end to your suffering. To the people of Marysville and Kinglake, we wish you all the best during the slow and painful rebuilding process and we look forward to visiting you and your amazing communities again soon…

In the lead up to the recent U.S election, SBS aired a mockumentary written by Charles Firth of the Chaser fame, entitled ‘Mr. Firth Goes to Washington’.

In the hour-long piece of mostly-funny political observation and boneheaded buffoonery Mr. Firth likens George W. Bush’s presidency to a Hollywood screenplay. Like a Hollywood blockbuster Bush’s presidency had a main plot and a romantic sub-plot – the ‘War or Terror’ and a fight against the legalisation of gay marriage – a hero and a villian – George W. Bush and Osama bin Laden – and a so-called ‘refrigerator moment’ – the point where the film’s audience has returned home, opened the fridge in search of a midnight snack only to exclaim ‘Hang on! That film made no sense!’ For Bush’s presidency, the refrigerator moment came when people realised that Iraq’s weapons of mass destruction were about as real as Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny and Michael Jackson’s face combined.

Overall it’s a whimsical little film which doesn’t take itself too seriously and we see plenty of Firth in his element – ambushing everyday Americans, putting them on the spot by asking seemingly simple questions and then editing only the inarticulate and embarassingly stupid responses together in order to make America look like a nation of idiots.

Now I have to admit that I indulged in the obligatory snigger at the ‘stupid yanks’ until it came to Firth’s question of how one would define irony. ‘Pfft, easy’, I sniggered to myself as I watched most people make reference to a certain Alanis Morrisette song. That was until I realised that I couldn’t answer the question myself. Sure, I could head to the bookcase and pick out my tattered high school dictionary or visit Dr. Wiki for a diagnosis, but that would be cheating. In the same way that this clip scares the shit out of me, I knew that if I had been one of Firth’s unsuspecting victims I too would have struggled to provide an eloquent and inspired definition for the word ‘irony’. I couldn’t even have given an example of irony that wasn’t listed in the aforementioned song. Until now.

You see, employment at our reputable establishment often includes the occasional reception shift, in which the unlucky employee battles boredom, a sore arse and one’s own sanity over a gruelling eight hour period. Earlier this week I made the almost fatal mistake of agreeing to cover a colleague’s reception shift but to my surprise there was actually something to keep me occupied, namely posting letters to our 800+ members explaining that the time had arrived to part with $5 and renew their memberships.

Now it might just be me, but if I was going to print out hundreds of copies of a document that was to be posted all over the countryside, I would probably proof-read it to ensure that I hadn’t made any errors. Or eight.

Needless to say that I began my shift faced with 450 copies of a letter which needed ‘reworking’, a huge stack of copies of the revised letter to place in envelopes and mail out to existing members and several hours worth of guillotining to transform the first stack into ‘note paper’. Sean Connery wouldn’t even need that much note paper at a ‘Hitting Women Makes You a Shit Bloke’ seminar.

‘So where’s the irony there?’ you ask, having made it patiently to the end of yet another post about very little. Well, seeing as you asked so nicely…

At the bottom of the original copy of the letter, the author – presumably too lazy to type out their contact details – had simply copy-pasted the footer from their company email address. This footer – in a font of different colour, size and type to the main text – contained not only the author’s contact details but the following plea; ‘Please consider the environment before you print this email’.

Unless you are photocopying it 450 times to be used for ‘note paper’ of course…

So I made the mistake of checking out the first episode of Channel 7′s new comedy/drama series ‘Packed to the Rafters’ tonight. Suffice to say that I wasn’t overly impressed. For an ‘all-star Australian cast’ the acting and dialogue were decidedly awful and even screen veteran Michael Caton, in the role of the maternal grandfather, looked like he wasn’t overly interested.

I should have known better – any TV show that names their characters solely for the purpose of a joke in the show’s title is in a bit of trouble. That’s right, the family’s surname is Rafter, get it, ‘Packed to the Rafters’ – genius.

So where has all the good Australian drama gone? Where are the likes of Seachange and, well, Seachange? You know, a good, interesting and genuinely funny comedy/drama that doesn’t rely on dick jokes in order to sell its pilot episode? For those of you (fortunate people) that missed it, indulge me as I recreate one of tonight’s many, many cringeworthy moments;

After taking a cliche-tastic three viagra pills on the night of his 25th wedding anniversary, Dave Rafter finds himself in agony after his ‘old fella’ won’t go down. Concerned, he and his wife head to the emergency department of the local hospital in order for him to get examined by, you guessed it, a hot nurse. Upon informing Dave that she would need to drain the blood from his penis in order to prevent potential gangrene, she utters the unforgettably terrible line – ‘for a silver wedding anniversary, that’s a whole lot of wood’.

Seriously, is this the best Aussie drama that we can muster up these days? If this show makes it past it’s second episode without being axed I will be quite amazed. Perhaps I’m being a little unfair as the show did have one moment which almost made for compelling viewing. Mind you, it was in the last 30 seconds of the episode and involved the Rafter daughter returning home after being (apparently) beaten to a pulp by her boyfriend. Awesome…

Now let me start by saying that I’m a firm believer in the age-old adage ‘shit happens’ – people make mistakes, I know that, but oh boy, this is a big one.

So the TAC have this competition right, it’s called MAFMAD, otherwise known as ‘Make a Film, Make a Difference’. It calls for budding young film-makers to create their own short films which will ‘make your mates think twice before taking risks on the road’. You can get all the details at the MAFMAD website so my description need not be too involved.
Anyhoo, last Wednesday evening I happened to be viewing the much publicised ‘fuck’-fest that is Gordon Ramsay’s ‘Hell’s Kitchen’ and during one particular ad-break I chanced upon a commercial for the aforementioned competition. While the placement of this ad is far from remarkable, follow it with this ad and the situation changes somewhat.
Now if you ask me, the ad for the Suzuki Swift is already a perfect example of irresponsible and exploitative marketing, but place it so that it follows an ad which campaigns for safe driving, especially among younger drivers, and, well, I’m genuinely speechless.

Actually I’m not. The dead-shit in the ad knows that the roads are slippery; he knows that there have already been accidents so far that day, and he has been told in no uncertain terms that the conditions are ‘treacherous’. But oh no. Mr I’m-too-good-a-driver-to-let-the-conditions-affect-me goes ahead anyway. And still we wonder why young guys drive like fuckwits and get themselves, their passengers and others, killed. Well here it is Your Honour – Exhibit A.

Shame on you Suzuki for exploiting stupid young drivers in order to sell your product, shame on you Channel 9 for not having the brains to check your ads-playlist before hitting ‘shuffle’ and shame on you MediaWatch for not putting the story to air at first opportunity…

If this guy doesn’t make you double over in fits of laughter and/or make you want to find the nearest train bridge and jump from it then I don’t know what will.
For those of you fortunate enough to have avoided being bombarded by the multitudinous number of ads on Channel 10, this is Travis; one of the housemates from the upcoming season of Big Brother. Leaving questions of the show’s creative or educational merit to the side for a second, let me just say this; this guy will single-handedly make people watch Big Brother.
Regardless of whether you think he is an outspoken but interesting guy, or more probably just some annoying fuckwit who sounds like he has had his bollocks ripped off in a game of tug-of-war with an angry rottweiler, you have to admit that watching this guy embarrass himself on national TV is an appealing thought…

‘G’day guys my name’s Travis…Traaaa-vvvisss!’

*Finds nearest railway bridge*