Mini skirts and international criminal law

The esteemed Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, ratified by Australia at the last minute last year, includes the following provision (perhaps one of the most oft breached provisions of international law, yes, even more than international copyright laws) at Article 7:

Crimes against humanity

1. For the purpose of this Statute, "crime against humanity" means any of the following acts when committed as part of a widespread or systematic attack directed against any civilian population, with knowledge of the attack:

(k) Other inhumane acts of a similar character intentionally causing great suffering, or serious injury to body or to mental or physical health.

In my opinion, it is overtly clear that this provision was designed to include those in the community whose age transgresses the mid 30s age/age-unrestricted cellulite limit, and who wear mini skirts of 30 centimetres length or less. Such acts are criminal because they entail criminal intent (mens rea), the misguided intention to garner attention, as well as occasioning 'great suffering' and the like to mental, sometimes even physical, health. The obscenity of such displays is perhaps only paralleled by the feeling people get when they realise they are actually watching an Adam Sandler movie or believe that Channel Ten's Jessica Rowe knows what she's talking about.
- posted by syed-m @ 4:32 AM

 
Taxi cab confessions

A couple of weeks ago, I had a whistle stop tour of Sydney. During that abridged visit, I was fortunate enough to run into three very interesting men, all taxi drivers. I began discussing the meaning of life with one of them for such a long time that I almost missed my flight back to Canberra. We sat at the departure stop-off parking lane for about 5 minutes (an obscenely long period of time in taxi terms, though I wasn't paying ;-) bitching about, well yes, women and politicians. Nevertheless; at the price of having to take the very last seat on the plane, and having to sit right opposite a cross-eyed gentleman who, no matter what direction he turned his gaze, always looked like he was staring at me; the late entrance was worth it.

It all began when the taxi driver, let's call him Taxi driver 1, said that he's really been racking his brain to work out what "it all means." Thankfully, lest my pants burst through weight of anticipation, he asked for my thoughts. And as I started, and relatively quickly finished, my minor existentialist ramble, he looked particularly unconvinced. By the end of the conversation Taxi driver 1 was striking me as someone who was really quite clued into things. Albeit that he admired John Hewson as an honest politican (which may have actually been an accurate assessment), his understanding that politics is a game, that the majority of politiking is aimed at diverting people's attention away from the issues that really concern them (health, education, and so on) was so familiar to me from the drill halls of many a socialist gathering that it amounted to a familiar routine. Only this was someone who sounded so right wing in his political habits, that one wondered whether he had accidentally registered in Florida.

In another taxi cab conversation, I explained to the driver that, contrary to what 'ahem'* says, the blackfellas aren't taking over half the arable land in Australia. Far from it, I explained that native title is very difficult to establish, is extinguished almost always when it is inconsistent with other property interests, and is always over outskirt tracts of land with little economic value (this includes areas of mining activity, because the courts have held thus far that you can't have native title over mineral resources). Taxi driver 2 said he worked 12 hours a day, 7 days a week, in two different jobs. On weekends, he often observed little old asian ladies being carried out of StarCity casino by security guards after they had wittled away their batches of gold coins. Needless to say Taxi driver 2 was a croupier of some sort on weekends.

I discovered that Taxi driver 3 distantly knew a family friend, a friend who had recently passed away but who had been known throughout most of his adult life to be a very saintly, religious figure. Driver 3 soon explained to me that his house was haunted and required a holy man to exorcise the pained spirit from his residence. As you can expect, by the end of the taxi ride, I had his business card with his personal number scrawled on it, with the request to ring him if I knew of any suitably saintly people in the community who can perform an exorcism for him.

[This story is a very abridged version of events]

* also known to be the writer's employer
- posted by syed-m @ 4:55 AM

 
Finding the time

Ladeis and gentlemen (nb: deliberate misspelling), I have excellent news to report. On the 27 September, I shall finally be having a houseparty, only 3.5 months after moving into my new place.

I plan to get totally wasted, so your company at this joyous event would be greatly appreciated. For details, do not hesitate to contact my secretary on syed-m@excite.com or other communication channels.

Last Friday I got totally high, on half a pill, for the first time since new years. It helped clear my head, and made me realise just how robotic my life has become. I've also discovered the joys of breakbeat in ways that I never fully appreciated previously. Apart from that, and talking total shit with absolute strangers (sadly, though, the talent meter was rather low), I got a 10 gig mp3 player from my uncle. God bless his soul!

Speaking of him, and something somehow related, my brother is getting married this January, and my uncle will be there. Apparently he wants me to come visit him in the US. And when loaded relatives beckon, there's no point refusing. So it looks like I might be travelling quite a bit in the not too distant future. Any suggestions viz destinations?
- posted by syed-m @ 4:02 AM