Slavery and Mobile Phones

People in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) are being forced into slavery as a result of western demand for mobile phones. The DRC is mineral rich in tin, copper, cobalt, coltan and tantalum. These materials are used to create smaller environmentally friendly mobile phones.

The article “War, Murder, Rape All for Your Mobile Phone”, follows on from a 2005 BBC report about the forced slavery of people in the DRC forced to work in sub-human conditions  mining minerals with little regard to their personal safety.

Must technology always encroach on human life? One-second phones are our savoir, the next minute they are the instruments to enslave 8-year-old children.

Technology cannot continue at the expense of the helpless but what are our options. The article talks about recycling and purchasing second hand phones. But what are we to do when as a society we are driven to have the latest technology. I am more than guilty with my 3 computers and in the last 3 years 13 phones.
The information is out there. I guess all we can do is try and be mindful of the origin of the devices that make our lives easier.

 

My favourite day has been stolen.

Well today has been a strange day indeed. Nothing out of the ordinary happened but I felt an overwhelming sense of dread, doom and fear. I could not focus or concentrate. I keep looking up interactive documentary and finding nothing. What does the term mean? Why is it so important?

I am beginning to think I am a fraud of some sort.

What am I pretending to be?

I believe the answer is creative. My whole life I have been drawn to the arts. Unfortunetly I can’t paint, sculpt, write, act or dance. So what am I? I feel as though I can’t get my brain to react. I am scared. I can’t find my way. What am I doing here I guess that is a good question what am I doing here at RMIT?

Blogs. I use to keep a diary but the interesting thing about the internet is it is so private. Too many blogs to read them all. To create one is to essentially be alone in a crowded room.

I am an open person with my feelings. I want the world to know my feelings to sense my faults. I do this in an attempt to find the answers. I have one major question. No I will not share it, it leaves me bare.

I am wondering if I feel lonely. If what I am feeling today is loneliness. I think it is. I feel isolated and I need to cry.

I don’t have a grasp on study and I am afraid it will creep up on me and find me unprepared. I had an idea. I’m not sure I do anymore. I am in a weird space.

I am 35. Wow. I think it is so old. I feel my body is betraying me. What happen to my sexy body..

Oh all the Meredith tickets have sold out. My favourite day has been stolen. What next.

I think I will go paint my toenails and arrange to get some waxing done.

 

Mobsters and Villagers

Last week Jenny spoke about online games and narrative. I think it was about the merging of the game world with the real world. We also listened to a snippet of a pod cast. It was like listening to the ABC, dull at best but it had some interesting information.

The pod cast was about a young man who has started a real estate business in the VR. I guess it is not bad enough that people are obsessed with their mortgages in the real world now they want to create mortgages in the VR.

Ummm I had a mortgage I sold my house and spent the money on drinking and other highly illegal and suspect activities.

So I am a bit confused why people would want to mortgage themselves in VR. But I digress. I commend the man for forward thinking.

We played a game. In the game I was a villager. I wanted to be a mobster so I could kill and get away with it. Heidi murdered me. This was boring. I knew from experience that a group of people forced to make decisions without a leader would digress into mayhem with the other 2 loud people taking over. I was right and the game dragged on as more and more of us were killed. When the mobsters were revealed, it was the two quietist people in the class.

What I learned from the exercise is that a group always needs to be coordinated.

 

Mobsters and Villagers

Last week Jenny spoke about online games and narrative. I think it was about the merging of the game world with the real world.  We also listened to a snippet of a pod cast. It was like listening to the ABC, dull at best but it had some interesting information.

The pod cast was about a young man who has started a real estate business in the VR. I guess it is not bad enough that people are obsessed with their mortgages in the real world now they want to create mortgages in the VR.

Ummm I had a mortgage I sold my house and spent the money on drinking and other highly illegal and suspect activities.

So I am a bit confused why people would want to mortgage themselves in VR. But I digress. I commend the man for forward thinking.

We played a game. In the game I was a villager. I wanted to be a mobster so I could kill and get away with it. Heidi murdered me. This was boring.  I knew from experience that a group of people forced to make decisions without a leader would digress into mayhem with the other 2 loud people taking over. I was right and the game dragged on as more and more of us were killed. When the mobsters were revealed, it was the two quietist people in the class.

What I learned from the exercise is that a group always needs to be coordinated.

 

Why I told my boyfriend I loved him

If you have been reading my blog then you know I am stuck in bed. So I have this boyfriend named Peter from Slovenia.

A small country in Central Europe where every Slovenian has access to an inch of coast line. (an actual quote from the tourist web site) I am from a large country in North America that prides itself on having everything supersized, people, rubbish, cars and the appetite for natural resources.

So he is very handsome to me. Very sensual and very lovely. He has also become my nurse maid and has cooked and cleaned for me. He looks after my dog and ask me every morning did I sleep ok. He always says I’m sexy. Even when I have a wee stomach roll.

When he stares in my eyes I melt. He is a fantastic kisser and lover. His touch is tender and electric.

So on Tuesday morning I woke up thinking. I love this man. Where has he been all my life. I started to panic and I asked myself. Should I tell him. So I did. I kissed his smooth skin and looked into his beautiful eyes. I felt my chest burn and my thighs heat up. I smelled him and drank him. I was happy. So I said I need to tell you something..
I said I love you..
I love my boyfriend and it’s great because I had given up on loving anyone again.

Ok this isn’t suppose to be corny. Everything isn’t perfect but the annoying things I can put up with because the good things are good.

Another great thing is that we work well together and we can try to work together I love this…… I am happy with my hurt leg and low bank balance I am happy.

 

Gurl Where do you come from.

I come from the United States America. I grew up in Los Angeles. Yes I am a Californian girl. Brown skin, sexy legs, full lips and brown eyes.
The idea that we belong to a country has always amused me. When I grew up in my country hip-hop wasn’t mainstream. So my blackness was a problem.

I have always been about exploring. Forced upon me by mothers undiagnosed mental illness. So I like to move. As a child we moved constantly. My mother was paranoid someone was always after her.  I started believing it. I imagined I saw UFOs and spoke to imaginary people. I drank and took drugs at a young age but found I don’t have an addictive personality. I am a hedonistic. I looked for love and I was a bad communicator.  Met my father once when I was 19. Didn’t maintain the relationship. I fell for a boy got on a plane. Lost contact with my mother. Didn’t care she never loved me. Learned to forgive. Learned to forgive my mother tried to share my feelings it was too late she was dying.

I am a hedonist. I enjoy life. I am well liked.
MY mother was lonely. She was often alone. She was scared. She had mental illness. She reached out but no one understood. I didn’t. I tried to help. It was too late. My mother was dying she was obese mentally ill suffering from diabetics dementia and loneliness. She was having strokes. It was ironic. My mother was homeless. I was living in a grand home in Australia. My mother was obese. Yet she was malnourished. My mother was dying.
I tried as best I could I would spend time with her. She was so heavy her bones could not bear the weight. She always had delicate bones. Her ankles were broken 3 times in the end her right ankle was crushed and had to have a metal plate placed inside. My mother was dying.
I didn’t know what to do or say. She had given up hope. She left me 1300 dollars. I used it to leave only the second abusive relationship. Only 2. Not bad percentages if you knew the numbers.
On January 10, 2005 my mother died. A woman I did not know. Alone in a hospital. I had received a call a month earlier asking for the do not resituate order I gave it for a few reasons. My mother was dying since I knew her. She was never happy. I wanted it to end.

I went home in May we had a funeral. A Party. My uncle bought a plaque. He spelled her name wrong. I was outraged. I looked around and I realised these people are my family and I do not know them. I don’t like them. What do I do?
My mother would have hated having her name misspelled.  So I bought her a gravestone. I had a bright idea to wait for just the right inspiration to write something clever and witty. I waited for 6 months. I waited for the love to flow. I loved her. She made me. So I called my aunt and we decided. Terryl Lynn Monianci Mother daughter sister. She would have liked that.
I went home in Feb.06.  I was too busy getting high to go by my mother’s grave. An only child selfish. Scared. My mother is dead for 18 months now. I still dream of her and she is always on a diet and talking about grandma. She visits me in my sleep. I let her and I try and not be a brat.
This is who I am. I am my mother’s child. I raised myself. I left home at 13. My mother was dying. I survived. I live in Australia as a first world refugee. I am in love.

 

Sprained Ankle and Star Wars

Monday morning I awoke and had to go to the loo. My first thought was no. So I started to move my elevated foot from right to left and I thought not much pain so I woke up my boyfriend and he started to help me.
The pain was excruciating the blood surging into my swollen ankle unbearable. It killed. I decided staying bed was best and I did.

Monday I wanted to find out about Mobile phone penetration into Asia, So I searched and came upon several bits of interesting info. 1stly I need to access some white papers for the juicy details.  2nd Vodafone KK has sold its Japanese interest to Masayoshi Son. 3rdly Asia is the only market expanding.

But I actually spent the majority of the day putting up listings on the web for actors for my Masters project, Daterbase.

Tuesday I watched a lot of the Sopranos season three and later worked on my Daterbase Project. Later that evening I watched “Star Wars 7 a New Hope”. Lucas has added a lot of funny looking animals and enhanced the blues.

Wednesday I awoke at one and was frustrated by the Bank of Queensland. I surfed the web read some info and prepared for Thursday’s class. Currently I am waiting until 830 so I can watch the 8th instalment in the star wars series I’m unsure of what they are calling it now.

 

A Progressive Lunch and a Sprained Ankle

A blog is a terrible thing to waste. What an interesting sentiment. I have been in bed all week (I have a sprained ankle) and I haven’t thought to enter one blog. Though I have spent between 6 and 10 hours a day online. So I thought I might right a blog about my 3 days in bed.

I spent Sunday afternoon partaking in a progressive lunch. Which progressive to dinner .
What is a progressive lunch? Of course I was hoping to hyperlink here but upon a Google search I returned negative.
A progressive lunch is when you travel from one place to another partaking in the delights of taste.
The theme was Modern Australian (what the fuck does that mean).  In this case we started at Eloise where of course she raised the gablet with the entrée – everything had pork even the vegetarian dumplings. (Bad news for Peter my gorgeous boyfriend). So we had steamed BBQ PORK BUNS and STEAMED PORK DUMPLINGS. Served with a thick soy sauce and a chilli sauce.

They were so yummy. Eloise confided she was broke and she had shelled out 20 bucks to feed 8 people. It pays to be close to Victoria St but I was a suspicious on the Pork for 3 dollars.

The next course was at my house. The main. What a crock as I am so broke. Friday I spent 100 of my rent dollars at Vic Markets   and purchased supplies for the dinner and the week. I bought John Dory fillets for $18a kilo and tomatoes and potatoes.
I of course thought Modern Australian well they must be talking Neil Perry.
So I made John Dory wrapped in pastry and serve on a Cardamom and Tomatoes base. Yummy. The sauce cooked for 4 hours.

I also made yummy Potatoes. A real winner.

Now I personally didn’t love this dish built everyone else did. I did not realise the Dory fillets had bones. I hate bones.

Mean while there was lots of wine.
Next stop was Cressidas for an Egyptian Pudding. Fantastic.
I then had the bright idea to play Pictionary. I came second.

At about 10 pm we left Cressidas for our homes. I walked out the house and fell right into the gutter.

There I begged to stay until I felt better. But I didn’t so Bev and Peter helped me up.
I then got in a cab went by my house picked up my private health insurance card and my Laptop and headed to St Vincent’s.

2 hours later and after watching the Lords of Dogtown. I was told I had a sprained and it wasn’t broken. But I had to stay off it for a week.

I also learned that private Health Insurance means nothing in Emergency.

So I hopped to a cab and went home.

 

Whose Space? Murdoch and MySpace

The July 2006 issue of Wired featured Rupert Murdoch on the cover and include the Wired Top 40. It was very interesting combing the magazines pages and reading about the direction of the “what’s new”.

However, I didn’t purchase this magazine for the top 40. I purchased it to find out the secret to the worlds most dangerous man.
The photo on the cover features a 75-year-old media baron with a net worth over 20 billion dollars. He governs one of the most competent spin machines in the United States, Fox News and possesses so much power that when China complained about the content of BBC News he dropped the channel from his Chinese satellite network.

The Article, His Space by Spencer Reiss, was very interesting indeed. Murdoch has purchased MySpace for a whopping 580million dollars. This purchase is what drove me to read the article and hypopieses as to the motives behind the move.

Murdochs’ cross Media Empire has a distinct advantage over competitors with its ability to deliver the kind of content that audiences want. MySpace acquisition shows his vision for the future with the purchase of a ready-made market research portal. According to Reiss, MySpace may provide NewsCorp with an advertising, marketing and distribution vehicle that may provide a direct link to the wants of popular culture.

Wow he already controls the balance of power in the world’s largest democracy. Now he has his hands on the desire of today’s youth.
Am I the only one who’s a wee bit afraid? The premise about MySpace is to connect people with people.  “The value of a network is proportional to the square of the number of users,” The article says that MySpace has 20million users and 6.5 billion page hits a day. That is a lot of teenage activity. How big would a shopping mall have to be for this much teenage traffic?
The article points out the following; MySpace offers insight into wants of the youth market. It offers instant access for a 1st point of marketing for Fox movies, TV and music and lastly gives Murdoch the ability for an expansion on his cross content control.
This means he can dictate what is created in anyone of his outlets by information gathered from the masses of youth already following what trend they received last week. Will this actually destroy the ability to create new trends because they are relying on what direction they perceive the market is headed? As we already know, “participation feeds on itself” but genuine spontaneity relies on the strength of the vision of the idea and the core belief in it.
I guess MySpace could run with the tag line, ‘Let them eat cake or Mc Donald’s or any other sponsor we force-feed them.

 

my online doco

Here is an online documentary I did for Transient Spaces. It has some type-o’s that appear as a result of using i-web.
But here is link enjoy.

http://raws.adc.rmit.edu.au/~s3069629/On%20The%20Farm/Home.html