Until Death Do Us Part

obligation /obligaysh'n/ n.

1 the constraining power of a law

2 a burdensome task.

3 a binding agreement, enforceable under legal penalty

Delicious.

From young, we are conditioned to despise obligation. Our earliest exposure to adult psyche introduces us to a foreign concept: a task we must perform against our will "because I said so." This is counter intuitive, a life precedingly occupied by unburdened impulsivity is replaced with a squeamish conflict between desire and action.

This feeling of internal conflict breeds an atmosphere of defiance. Why should I do something I feel is wrong? Like a bad case of gastroenteritis, repulsion spreads in waves throughout the body manifesting vocally and remedied by a healthy dose of "Mum knows best" discipline.

Rebellion then ensues. Like a crustacean receding into its shell, we transform into self protection mode refusing to comply with these instructions that defy our sense of self. A pivotal battle is fought, internally and externally that crucially shapes our character. We either accept conformity or choose to repel it with every drop of spirit we can squeeze from ourselves.

Failure to do so leads to submission. Trapped in an infinite helix of mind-numbing obligation and expectation, our lives advance chronologically with the illusion of progress. We "succeed" in high school, "succeed" in university, "succeed" at work, find the love of our lives and settle into the greatest obligation of the world - marriage.

Yes, nothing says "I love you" like two hours of embarrassment in front of your friends and three hundred people you barely know. Where you have to identify people allowed to attend your wedding, but not palatable enough to have at your reception. Positive sentiments on your special day.

Love is a unique bond between two people that is self-evident. Proof beyond a reasonable doubt is not required to justify it's existence. It's either there, or not. Commitment and selflessness are integral and remain unenhanced by a ceremony that leaves your credit card puckered and parched.

The burdensome constraint of obligation destroys fun and spontaneity, replacing them with stagnation and familiarity. The goal posts are firmly embedded into the ground, their chaotic fluidity halted prematurely. It is our never ending search for perfection: just a little extra touch to the cake to make it "better", a dab of marriage to make our relationship "perfect" and solidified.

At our peril, we disregard the uniqueness in imperfection, the stimulation created by instability, and the inherent value of a partnership held together by intiuative desire rather than obligation.

Now that's something worth celebrating.

The Scourge of Self Importance

Everyone loves firemen.

Saviours of felines, not to mention annual sweaty appearances in calendars brandishing large hoses. Such important people. But at what point does self-importance becomes arrogance? Are they as entwined as a hose around a fireman's body?

One of the greatest mysteries of the universe is why doctors' handwriting is illegible. Typically, an egyptologist is needed to decipher it. Or a pharmacist. Could self importance be a contributing factor? Perhaps he believes he is such an "important" person, others should be able to read his hieroglyphic scrawl. His time is so "important" that he can't afford to slow his writing to improve legibility. In fact he is so "important," people should move out of his way when met in a corridor because he is obviously enroute to an "important" job.

I'm sure most would deny this, only because they don't even realise it. It's subconscious, placed by society's expectations of a doctor's role and what level of importance that serves in the community. The doctor is far more important than the supermarket clerk, are far more selfless right?

Well, true selflessness is quite hard to find. Everyone has something to gain from what they do, we just wouldn't do it otherwise. Be it money, status, spirituality; we kid ourselves into believing we're "helping others" but really we're just pandering to our own sense of self importance.

Instead of acknowledging the selflessness of our actions, we misinterpret gratification as a reflection on ourselves which further feeds self importance and propogates arrogant behaviour.

To counter this, the human race combines our uniqueness with abundance to ensure our actions are replaceable. Put simply, we're not the only doing it. Life is full of variety, people share similar traits but their actions manifest in different ways. This should prevent people from becoming self important as they realise their "selfless" actions can be performed by someone else.

However this doesn't eventuate as fear causes people to be threatened by difference. The strong personality is threatened by the stronger one in a social group. Like a large dog intimidating its smaller peer, we are drawn towards the seemingly superior model. Fed by an upbringing of heirachy and status to partition life into easily digestable chunks, we attribute more importance to the perceived higher status. We fail to appreciate the homogenous yet distinct shades of grey that add diversity to life. There is room for more than one strong personality, we shouldn't allow fear to illluminate people as threats.

With seven billion people on Earth, each of us is really quite insignificant. Even if you wear high visibility clothing or a stethoscope draped across a white collared shirt. Modern society should be appreciated for its abundance and diversity. Placing objects in shelved compartments makes them easier to find but rummaging in a mixed box doesn't diminish their importance.

Jesus on the Radio

You know the world has changed when Jesus sponsors motor sport.

Well, not Jesus per se (although the advertising makes you think otherwise) but an extraordinary attempt by the Jesus All About Life campaign to perform that well worn cliche: "reach out to the younger generation."

Yawn.

It's a gallant effort though. Disillusioned adolescents everywhere are crying out for a dose of religion to get their formative character-building lives back on track. How unsatisfactory, exposing youth to adversity so they can develop coping mechanisms for the future. The answer surely is to "show them the way." The one size fits all solution to living the perfect Christian life.

Why don't other religions pick up on this theme? Can you imagine - "Muhammad, All About Judgement Day?" It is doubtful our society would be as welcoming of an Islamic youth outreach campaign. Even perfect Australia, the most "tolerant" of nations. 

It can't be cheap either, plastering the son of God on utes, touring cars, and Mini Coopers. If you believe the website jesusallaboutlife.com.au, production costs are courtesy of the NSW Bible Society. You have to wonder if this bible society operates from a offshore gas platform or if there's more than is publically declared.

What has happened to religion? Sacred and secular have forever been antonyms, now they are one. Rock bands in Church, Jesus on a race car. What's next - an extra holy McJesus Value Meal at McDonalds?

There are many ways to be a Christian, many ways to have a relationship with God. These campaigns are flawed as they project the one and only way for a Christian to be faithful. They alienate people who cringe at the thought of Jesus on a burger. People who believe religion is sacred and about a personal relationship rather than "getting high on Jesus."

Good God. Jesus must be rolling in his grave.

www.jesusracing.com.au

Crime and Punishment

Louis Theroux is a pretty unlikable person. The way he substitutes his Oxford educated background for a Hugh Grant-esque ignorant Englishman is annoying. That said, he does make interesting documentaries such as BBC's Law and Disorder in Johannesburg, where he meets the gentleman pictured above - Maleven.

This guy makes Louis Theroux look like Pope John Paul.

Maleven is a career criminal who spent ten years in prison after killing three police officers for the sole purpose of taking their firearms to commit robbery. He proudly admits that he feels absolutely no shame, it's his only way of earning an income: "Only money that I want."

And he's not submissive in obtaining it: "I take your wife, I put knife here. You don't give me money or you give me?"

Theroux travels out to Diepsloot, a slum town north of Johannesburg, where vigilante law enforcers are as rampant as the criminals they claim to be fighting. It's hard to decide who is more violent when you see the methods they use. A senior member of security group Bad Boys explains: "We can fight with the law, within the law, and we've got other tactics we can use."

William Mayangoni of Mapogo boasts about giving criminals "special medicine" which involves beating them with a sjambok, or heavy leather whip.

These groups are driven to unleash their brand of justice by a lack of faith in the criminal justice system. After "sjambokking" a young man suspected of stealing mobile phones, William details how he will give a "donation" to the police force to avoid being arrested over the retaliatory assault and to retain the suspect within the community to receive more "special medicine".

He says if you are arrested by the police and have connections, the next day you'll be out and will escape prosecution.

It becomes a self perpetuating cycle. The absence of a well equipped and motivated regulatory force encourages groups like Mapogo and Bad Boys to fill a necessity that should be filled by the law makers themselves. It's an issue of responsibility - he who makes the law should take responsibility for enforcing it.

Unfortunately Theroux gives no suggestions as to the cause of this crime or a potential solution.

For that, we have to turn to the murderous Maleven for some rare words of wisdom: "I never go to school, so what can I do?"

No education means no opportunity, which leaves crime as the only option. 

Maleven's future was sealed in June this year when police finally arrested him over fifty counts of armed robbery, murder, rape and carjacking across a two year period. (Cops nab hijack kingpin, Nkosana Lekotjolo, The Times 19/06/09)

But he won't be the last Maleven. 

Without systemic reform, the future for South Africa looks equally bleak.

I Love My Job

"There are good moments but it's mostly bad."

- Jeremy Clarkson, Top Gear Season 12 Episode 8

Onion Love

It is not often that you are greeted with such pungency as Patty Chang's In Love. A double video installation showing the artist sumptuously devouring a raw onion while her mother and father return the favour. Tears stream down her face and you wonder of the origin: Onion? Disgust? Love?

Pungent. Strangely, the next work at PICA's Intimate Acts is her mirrored reflection in water locking lips with herself. Maybe to wash out the onion breath?

On the adjacent wall are selected prints from Kelli Connell's Double Life series. Onion love, now replaced with its human counterpart, is shown between two versions of the same person. The use of a remarkably androgynous girl is a significant move by Connell. One print, Brickhaus Cafe, best embodies the intimacy theme with it's close depiction of two people in a cafe, eyes locked, smoke swirling amongst human warmth. It is a powerful image, framed to sweep the viewer into the world and deeply impart it's feeling of initimacy.

This theme continues up the staircase to Adam Geczy's Concerts. We get a unique birds eye view of contemporary composer Peter Sculthorpe teaching a sonata to Geczy using only his left hand. It is painful, tedious, and demanding - anyone who has had a piano lesson would understand. This is reality television of a different kind, a voyeuristic look at the patience and persistence required to master a contemporary work.

It offers a level of insight into one's personal space rarely afforded in mainstream media.

Intimate Acts runs until 2 August.

What Have We Learned From Current Affairs?

One of the funniest segments on 'The Chaser's War on Everything' is a parody of the farcical one sided stories that Today Tonight and A Current Affair think are important to society. 

Tonight, their star was a volunteer firefighter suspect of the Victorian bushfires. The classy gentleman was interviewed previously where he proudly exclaimed "I'm a quiet guy, I don't like the attention."

In fact he disliked attention so much that he reappeared tonight - attached to a lie detector.

Inconsequentially, he was told that movement would render the test useless. So he moved constantly to disrupt the test.

Maybe he wasn't so stupid after all.