Within the first few hours of trying desperately to navigate the back streets of  Tokyo, when armed with sensible shoes, European features and a digital camera,  it becomes strikingly clear that it’s impossible to ignore that painfully embarrassing label we all desperately try to avoid when abroad: the tourist.

The crux of the matter is that no one really wants to be noticed as out of place when in a foreign country – Lonely Planet, American Express and others after all, market themselves as the tools which help the average person “be a traveller, not a tourist”. We want to be worldly, appear well-read and be understanding of the place we’re visiting, to fit seamlessly into the culture and not stick out like sore thumbs. Taking photos, unfortunately, often prevents us from being any of those things.

So, we abstain from the cheesy photos most of us recall from early childhood and family holidays. Instead, we aim for the spontaneous and arty shots of popular landmarks that look like we didn’t really mean to take them. Under no circumstances do we appear in these pictures, unless by accident or spur-of-the-moment. Photos, schmotos – we’ve got the memories, we think noncommittally to ourselves.

But what becomes clear once home, back in the same ol’ routine, is that you are absent from the large majority of your holiday photos. You might as well not have even gone because really, you’ve got no proof. Read More »

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image via Masterchef.com.au

My cousin is on Masterchef this week. I didn’t know what to make of it at first – do I play it cool? Or should I just be honest and make like in The Castle and jump up at down as though we’re on The Price is Right?

Well, all I can say is that Kate, my gorgeous second cousin has made a Masterchef fan out of me. Especially given the positivity the show radiates. It’s nice to watch something where no one is called fat, untalented or stupid for once.

So tonight, a new challenge – watching the show whilst following #masterchef on Twitter. I have to say, it’s been an experience – whilst Masterchef judges themselves may be masters of the euphemisms and uplifting praise, but as for the tweeps? Relentless and blatant critics.

@keepingmumsane - Fuuuuuuuuuuck Adele. Goooooooo Jimmy #masterchef

@RANDYDANDYANDY1 - I decided to use mayo from a bottle#masterchef kate not upto it!

@thunder_67au - lol i love it Gary and George complaining about using jar mayo. Im sorry boys but we cant all be perfect!!#masterchef

@amcal -what’s with the white specs #masterchef

@s_bridges - STOP CRYING, YOU IDIOTS! I never cry when I’m microwaving my baked beans. #masterchef

@chieftech - @kimmar its feels like Star Trek… everyone is being so nice to each other #masterchef

@corublo - I would pay to have adele torn apart by orcas. #masterchef

@laneybert - @masterchef one of these guys is going to cry, fan their face and say they did it all for “world peace” in a minute..it’s not miss universe!

@annetreasure - Everyone watching #masterchef, I recommend you lose interest immediately & turn over to #ABC1 for something far more dramatic.#4corners

@Tatterededges - Alvin’s peaked. It’s all downhill from here buddy. #Masterchef

@ellen_briggs - Hey #Masterchef – if you keep showing contestants blubbering about their past – I’m out. Just cook FFS!!!

I’m not naive, I know this dialogue has existed for as long as reality television has (and trust, I’ve been an active participant in the critique) but there’s something about the instantaneous nature of the Twitter commentary that made me feel a little bit uneasy. And I’m not sure it’s due to my family connection to the show either.

There’s always talk amongst media academics about audience participation and television, about the sms voting on American Idol and Eurovision, forums and interactive websites. All of these promising ideas, but all seemed to have fallen short of allowing the kind of participation audiences really want. We’ve been looking for a technology that allows us to have that ‘water-cooler’ conversation instantly and with other interested parties. And now, it would seem, Twitter has delivered just that.

But does this new medium really change the way we watch TV? Or is it merely highly complementary?

Either way, it made me feel part of the Masterchef collective, engaged in an exciting dialogue around a piece of media. And that, I reckon, is pretty nifty.

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I’ve been a tad conflicted for the past couple of weeks.

It was just over a month ago that I decided to watch The West Wing, starting from season 1. As a WW neophyte, I didn’t really understand what I was getting myself into. Political drama? Yeah, yeah…nothing I haven’t heard before.

Wrong. I was impressed from episode 1, albeit years after everyone else had cottoned on to its brilliance. I’ve always been a bit slow in that respect.

The nuanced relationship between people, politics and the media has been drilled into my mind, like any other media student’s. Political spin, media ownership, bias and so forth – we’re told from day one that it is virtually impossible for completely unbiased coverage of anything remotely political. Formal, or otherwise. We’re taught to be skeptical of journalistic institutions and dubious of prospects of fulfilling our ethical duty as the fourth estate.

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I am by no means what pop culture decribes, a ‘muso’. However, I do love my live gigs.

I started attending ‘grown-up’ concerts around the 15 year old mark. I attended my first Big Day Out in Melbourne in 2007 and have since fallen in love with live music, jumping around in the dirt with a bunch of sweaty strangers and the myriad of other awful, but intensely lovable, things about concerts and festivals. Falls Festival just wouldn’t be the same without the mud and smelly composting toilets now, would it?

Last weekend, I like many many thousands of Australians, made the pilgrimage to see the iconic AC/DC. My dad was hosting that night, having invited about 15 people to the concert to enjoy it from a corporate box at Etihad.  I was his date, a young one amongst the corporate full-time workers.

Upon arrival and when the music started to rumble through the speakers, the crowd within our box made various comments, proclaiming that it is THE way to see a concert – from up high, far far away and with your own personal bar and supply of food. I was unconvinced at the time, but then swayed somewhat when I recalled this years Big Day Out at which I felt too old and tired, rather than energised and ready to party. Hmm.

Art Vs. Science - Melbourne Good Vibrations Festival 2010

Then, yesterday I went to feel the good vibes at the Good Vibrations Festival (funny that.) at Flemington in Melbourne. Without the rush-rush feeling of Big Day Out keeping my stress levels up, it was a laid back day full of awesome music, great Melbourne weather and an amazing crowd to be amongst. (Spinderella, I love you.) As the day went on, my feet began to feel that familiar ache and my legs decided that they no longer wanted to do their job and move my body around, but I didn’t mind – it was an enjoyable tiredness, one which subsided whenever one of my favourite songs was performed.

Just TRY tell me you don’t wish you were there, in the crowd, feeling the music and jumping around in the sun…

Praps I’ll favour the corporate box when I’m older and more refined, but for now I’ll stick with being in the thick of things, chanting and groovin’ with my friends.

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This t-shirt baffles me.

Where did it come from? What does it mean? Who designed it?

I can only answer one of these – I feel so inadequate.

I won this t-shirt in a Kyoto McDonald’s late one evening simply by ordering a burger, scratching a ticket and handing said ticket (which had Japanese all over it, declaring what I can only now assume to be, “winner!!!” or something of the like) to the cashier who then, much to my confusion, handed me over this bright pink thing which has taken up permanent residence in my gym clothing wardrobe.

The situation itself was confusing enough, though my excitement at the time overshadowed the truth of the situation – the fact that I STILL don’t get it.

@designtavern and myself made many guesses – perhaps it was a political statement about the global recession? Or maybe, given that it is a Quarter Pounder marketing campaign (according to a little black square down the bottom of the shirt), perhaps the ‘stock’ to which they refer is, in fact, cattle? In which case, the t-shirt still makes little sense because if one hadn’t been trading stock, then where do the quarter pounders come from??? And why is a Japanese t-shirt written in BIG BOLD ENGLISH if the English makes no sense??

Perhaps I should take it to my Japanese teacher and see if she’s able to make any sense of it. Though that would probably ruin all the fun and I’m not even sure if it’s a language barrier, so much as something…else.

Hmm…

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