The cult of book readers

Carey started out by trying to butter up the audience. Who, he asked for a show of hands, had read a work of literature in the past week. Of course, most people in the audience had. He noted how unlikely it would be to get such a high proportion of ‘yes’ answers in any other room around the country. He later referred to it as a cult of literature readers.

He further pandered to the audience by throwing in a few titbits about environmental destruction and indigenous injustice and sundry causes likely to please middle-aged armchair socialists.

He went on to discuss the importance of people who can read works of literature and serious nonfiction – not just newspapers and cereal boxes – to making informed political decisions. (I would argue that the ability to think critically and analyse statements in context are more important, but I’d just be called a postmodernist tosser.) But at the same time, he noted with despair the incredible dumbing down of society.

Dumbing down

As evidence of this dumbing down, Carey played a series of vox pops taken outside a Sarah Palin book signing at a Borders bookstore in Columbus, Ohio. These booklovers were unable to discuss with any clarity what Palin’s policies were, or why they were so opposed to the evil Democrats.

As further evidence, he noted that one of the top-selling books in Australia was the Master Chef Cookbook and not, if there were any justice in the world, a Peter Carey novel. (OK, I added that last bit.)

But these were cheap shots that proved nothing.

There’s nothing easier than finding a place where dumb Americans congregate, pointing a camera at them and letting them talk, as the Chaser’s Charles Firth could tell you. And popular entertainment doesn’t need to be highbrow. Though to be fair, it should probably not be completely stupid. Carey made a nice analogy about junk news and junk entertainment being as bad for the mind and junk food was for the body.

This claim of dumbing down has been made for decades and has been refuted almost as often. Ten years ago, the Guardian examined the issue in great detail and found no evidence that people today were dumber than past generations. Au contraire.

Goodbye to privileged knowledge (and good riddance?)

Beneath these claims of dumbing down lie a profound discomfort with what is actually going on – a vast, unprecedented smartening up; billions of people who have access to information through books, newspapers, television and of course the internet. And the destruction of barriers to entry into the elite domains of privileged knowledge that novelists and academics like Carey inhabit and fight to maintain.

Everyone can read. And everyone can publish. A lot of it will be rubbish. But so what?

The world does not have a limited amount of cleverness to go around. Sarah Palin may be a more successful book writer (by number of books sold) than Peter Carey, but that doesn’t make Carey’s work any less intelligent or special for those who appreciate it.

And if the theory that ‘dumb’ books like the Harry Potter series are a gateway drug – they actually encourage people to read, and even to read real books – is true, there may even be more people around to enjoy Parrot and Olivier in America.

Some very clever online businesses have sprung up based on this premise, making it easier for men to find clothes they want without having to go through an embarrassing ordeal.

I’m not like that, generally. Over the years I’ve found a few good shops and clothing labels that usually have stuff I like that fits me, where they don’t have crappy dance music at eardrum-bursting volume and where the staff are helpful and unpretentious.

Most of the time.

Not so this weekend, though, when I visited a very large department store in the CBD, renowned for its quality products and customer service.

Me: This is a nice shirt. Do you have one in my size?

Fashion retail person #1: (Flips through rack) No.

Me: Yes, I already looked there, that’s why I asked you. (Waits for fashion retail person to make helpful suggestion.)

Fashion retail person #1: (Starts sorting clothes hangers.)

In case you’re wondering, yes, at this point I checked if I could buy it online. The manufacturer had very pretty website that took 10 minutes to load on the iPhone (Yay Vodafone!) and, of course, no ecommerce capability. So, half an hour of fruitless shirt shopping later, I was back where I started, with a different person.

Me: This is a nice shirt. Could you please check if you have it in my size?

Fashion retail person #2: Yes, but I’m pretty sure all the stock we have is on the rack. I’ll check. (Goes out back)

Me: Well?

Fashion retail person #2: No.

Me: That’s a pity. Do any of your other stores have it in my size?

Fashion retail person #2: Let me see. (Twiddles computer) Yes, Chatswood. Can you get to Chatswood?

Me: It is not convenient. Can the Chatswood store send it here?

Fashion retail person #2: No. (Complicated explanation, I didn’t really pay attention after ‘no’.)

Me: Alright, I will take some time out of my work day to pick it up from Chatswood tomorrow, but only if they put it away so someone else doesn’t buy it before I get there.

Fashion retail person #2: (Spends 15 minutes on phone trying to find person in Chatswood store) I spoke to Alex, he said he’ll put it aside, but you have to get it tomorrow.

Me: OK.

The next day, in Chatswood…

Me: I had a shirt put away yesterday. Could you get it for me?

Fashion retail person #3: Hmm… I can’t find it. Was it a BRAND A shirt?

Me: No, it was BRAND B.

Fashion retail person #3: Oh! You need to go over to the BRAND C counter!

Me: (Goes to next counter) I had a shirt put away yesterday. Could you get it for me?

Fashion retail person #4: I can’t find it anywhere. Who put it away for you?

Me: I think his name was Alex.

Fashion retail person #4: Oh, ALEX. It doesn’t look like he put it away.

Me: (Speaking in the spirit of Homer Simpson trying not to swear, “Oh, fudge. That’s . . . broken. Fiddle dee dee. That will require a tetanus shot.” ) That is . . . unfortunate. I can see it over there on the shelf. Perhaps there’s still one in my size.

Fashion retail person #4: Here’s one.

Me: This has “XL” written in biro on the cardboard label but “L” on the shirt label. Are you sure it’s XL?

Fashion retail person #4: Oh yes, they found it was the wrong size and it’s really XL.

Me: Wouldn’t I better off getting this one over here that says “XL” on both labels?

Fashion retail person #4: Sure, if you like.

This is the hardest I have ever had to work to buy something, other than a car or property. Can anyone spot the dozen or so places along the way where the retailer made it harder for me to buy the shirt than it needed to be? And was it really such a nice shirt that it was worth all the aggro to get it?

How do businesses survive, treating customers with contempt? Is it only because all their competitors do the same? Surely there must be a huge opportunity for shops that sell clothes and help their customers buy them!

This could lead me to believe the majority of Australians are as passionate about internet censorship as me and my friends. But then I remember that most of my friends are university educated, left-leaning types who work in journalism or the IT industry.

This same selection bias is at work in the online community, particularly on Twitter. The sort of people who use Twitter, who blog, who read the IT media are precisely the sort of people who would oppose internet censorship.

This has led many people to believe if they make enough noise about it online, the Government will drop the filter. Unfortunately, this greatly overestimates the importance and influence of Twitter and social media generally when it comes to real-world politics.

Even an infinite number of angry posts on Twitter, sarcastic blog posts and articles in the IT press would still have no effect on Government policy. Politicians only care about who can deliver them blocs of votes in important electorates.

Online fame is fleeting, but mine was the top article on ABC's The Drum for a little while

As I argue on ABC’s The Drum blog, so far the Christian lobby – which is for the filter – is doing this a lot better than the disparate anti-filter coalition.

This is not to say the anti-censorship campaign is doomed. However, it needs to focus less on preaching to the choir and more on real-life, professional political lobbying.

It’s a big ask, particularly because many of the anti-censorship groups have little experience in direct political action. But it must be done if we are to convince the Government of the immense folly and dire (supposedly) unintended consequences of its current plans.

Newcastle residents demonstrate their immense affection and respect for Shannon Noll

Shannon's support of the local poultry industry is key to his popularity

They sure do love Shannon over in Newcastle

Impressive shading work

Cutting-edge Newcastle infrastructure

Local Newcastle nightclub

Local Newcastle kebab shop

Local Newcastle bar

Local Newcastle bistro and beer garden

This man makes musical instruments out of electrical motors and relays. I think his hair got like that when he plugged the machine into his ear by accident.

It flashes and makes musical noises. Bizarro.

Charming Newcastle waterfront scenery, as seen from swanky Newcastle bar

Friendly Newcastle locals in their traditional costumes

Very good-looking man (obviously not from Newcastle)

Well-behaved, conservatively dressed and demure young ladies having a quiet night out in Newcastle

Seriously, though, the Newcastle CBD has been in decline since the BHP steelworks closed in 1999.

Happily, TINA founder Marcus Westbury is also the driving force behind Renew Newcastle, a program which aims to rejuvenate Newcastle’s moribund city centre by allowing artists, cultural projects and community groups to use vacant buildings at no charge.

Judging from recent footage and reporting, it seems to be working.

In recent weeks I have found myself on the VS Sassoon for Men mailing list, which means I’ve been getting occasional deliveries of hair clippers, stubble trimmers (I’ve always wondered how George Michael did it) and personal groomers (they’re for nose hair, not other ‘personal’ areas). Today I was fortunate enough to receive the Metro Straightener.

To me, a ‘Metro Straightener’ sounds like one of those weekends that parents send their sons on to toughen them up, if they’re worried the kids might be a bit… you know. And while there’s pretty much zero chance of me reviewing the product in my professional life, the guys and gals in the office convinced me it would be against my tough-as-nails journalistic heritage not to try it out.

So just to give you an idea of the enormous challenge I was posing to the Metro Straightener, here’s a picture of me before using it.

Now, I’ve always considered the Jewfro to be one of my more appealing points, but apparently “every guy with his finger on the pulse knows that the hot look right now is straight hair,” according to Marc Mendicino, Australian Men’s Hairdresser of the Year 2009, in the media release.

Getting down to business, it took me a while to work out how to use it without singeing my corkscrew locks or my ears…

…but it certainly seemed to be having an effect.

And here you have it, after about five minutes’ work, me as a Robert Smith lookalike. Ooh, dreamy.

Now I have discovered the secret to becoming a metrosexual is to be more straight…

It will achieve this by running fibre-optic connections to the telecommunications pillar mushrooms on street corners then using VDSL (very fast digital something something else) to deliver speeds of up to 25Mbps to homes.

Call me a pedant if you must, but that’s not 100 times faster than what’s currently available. I may be decaf soy latte drinking inner city elite, but I get around 19Mbps using ADSL2 and living about a kilometre from my phone exchange. I’m no maths genius, but I’m pretty sure 25Mbps is not 100 times faster than 19Mpbs. In fact I’d say it something closer to 1.3 times faster.

But Senator Conroy’s calculation is based on the claim that “most broadband users currently receive only 256 kilobits per second”. Which is

• A lie – statistics more than a year old show two-thirds of broadband users on faster than 256Kbps and
• A damning criticism of how Conroy’s predecessors let Telstra and the rest of the internet industry deliberately retard broadband access and make obscene profits.

Seems like when it comes to technology, the new federal government is as pompous and incompetent as the last.

Every time you write up a venue, for weeks afterwards ordinary decent people can’t get a table or a drink for all the throngs of rubbernecking pleb Herald readers trying to be cool.

Piss off and ruin someone else’s life, or I’m getting an AVO.

Of course the big question is, where? Having lived in Newtown or thereabouts for something like seven of the last eight years, the people at the deli, milk bar, pub and a couple of cafés know my name. But I think it’s time for a change. That’s mainly because when you tell people you live in Newtown, they always assume you are gay or a communist. Or a gay communist.

Of course the other areas under consideration have similar baggage. Surry Hills – wanker. Potts Point/Rushcutters Bay/Elizabeth Bay – pervert. Darlinghurst – gay or a drug dealer. Or a gay drug dealer.

So far the places I’ve looked at in Darlinghurst have either been noisy or depressingly run down. And most of the places in Potts Point appear to have micro-kitchens with a tiny bar fridges and no stove or oven. Honestly, who could live like that? It’s inhumane!

It might just be easier to stick with Newtown and let people assume what they will. At least being a gay communist means everyone gets to be equally fabulous.

I remember once during a boring university lecture, the morning after having seen Koyaanisqatsi the night before, having first utilised the necessary mood-altering organic substances, having a minor epiphany about the movie.

There are natural shapes, it tells us, and there are human shapes, each instantly recognisable from the micro to the macroscopic. But within the human shapes there are natural shapes: waves of cars slowing down and speeding up in traffic; the busy escalator that resembles a waterfall. But most interestingly, human shapes become natural shapes through the process of destruction: the modernist nightmare Pruitt-Igoe public housing development that turns into a wobbly building-shaped cloud as it collapses; the atomic bomb.

But getting back to the sunset scene, this random juxtaposition of things I’d seen or heard hundreds of times before at just the right time, the human and the natural, left me feeling . . .

Few of us have not had some moment of “transcendence”: a feeling that there is more to life than the strictly material.

. . . writes Christopher Hitchens (him again) in ‘The Future of an Illusion’ published in Daedalus, before rubbishing such an experience as merely an emotion, and to ascribe to it some concept of the divine, “credulous and solipsistic”.

Which is fine for a dedicated atheist like Hitchens, but leaves me wondering just why I stood there staring up at the sky, teary eyed and chuckling quietly to myself.

Each ensuing photograph takes the visitor deeper into an imagination determined to dislocate any convenient reading of normality with powerful symbolism.

I thought a more accurate description would be something along the lines of:

Laing’s cavalcade of art-school clichés and meticulously constructed yawnsterpieces takes the visitor deep into a very shallow mind determined to milk a handful of unoriginal and belaboured ideas far beyond their capacity to sustain the interest of anyone but the most hardcore pontificators of the arts wankerteriat.

Call me a philistine if you must.