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2002-10-28 - 3:02 p.m.

The last time I wrote anything significant about what I've actually been doing was a couple of weeks ago, when I got riotously drunk and got a shag ;) Hmmm, for a two line synopsis of a night out that sounds pretty good, I'll have to do it again sometime. My last two entries were almost a week apart, both about the bombings in Bali. The funny thing is I don't think it affected me half as much as some people- I know for example Cindy had a really hard time because she was forced to absorb herself in it and research it. It just happened that the two times I got around to writing in here I had things related to that on my mind. And ironically a week later when I sit down to write there is something else linked to it that is on my mind, but more of that later.

I actually wrote a diary entry last week on this stuff they make from the pulp of trees, using a stick filled with an indelible blue liquid- it was a novel experience. HA! That was such an unintended pun at the end there, did you pick it? I've kept a pen-and-paper diary since the beginning of 1993. For the first year it went along the lines of "went to school, came home, watched such and such on TV"- it's not that I had nothing on my mind, it's just that I was afraid of people reading it.

I started actually writing important things in my diary in about October of that year. For the past 9 months, or since maybe Christmas '92, I was kinda involved with a friend of the family who was significantly younger than me (at that age anyway, now it would be insignificant). I was 15, we're not talking anything more than a couple of stolen kisses, but it would not have gone down well at all and as much as it was confusing me for the best part of a year I was too afraid to write about it. Overcoming that fear and writing about it in my diary was a significant step in being able to express my thoughts.

For the next couple of years I wrote heaps- pretty much all about how much I was in love with Taryn, who I wrote about in a previous entry- the classic teenage unrequited situation. I kept writing a lot until about 1999, my honours year, when it all tapered off. With a few exceptions (my group of Unifriends for example) 1999 was an awful year, a year in which I was faced with the possibility that I had spent 4 years in a course that would not lead me to a job I liked, or had any interest in. The year 2000 on the other hand was one of the best years of my life, I found a job, found some self-confidence and an amazing social network, and entered into my first and only (at this point in my life) long-term relationship... okay, my first real relationship of any sort.

Anyway the point I'm making is that for completely opposite reasons I have pretty much neglected my diary for the best part of 3 years. On one hand because I was depressed, disillusioned and feeling lost, and on the other hand because I was having too much fun, being too much of a social butterfly to have time to write. Then last year was hands down the most confusing year of my entire life, and I have really written very little about it. So occasionally I attempt to chronicle it in my "pen-and-paper" when I get a chance. Last year went from the glow of a new relationship, to the big step of moving out of home, to the confusion of developing feelings for Annie while I was still in a relationship, to the absolutely heartbreaking and empty feeling of breaking up, even if it was my choice, to a completely unexpected series of encounters and I guess you could call it a pseudo-relationship with Cindy. Completely out of the blue considering at the time the two things at the front of my mind were breaking up with Ellie and being in love with Annie.

When I started this cyber-diary I didn't think I'd be writing anything nearly as personal as I have been- and I knew I still had my pen-and-paper diary for that sort of thing. But even having written so much personal stuff in here there are times when it may not be appropriate. Times when I want to keep things to myself but still need a way to express them. Times when I need to comment on things, even things not directly involving me, but things which I vow not to tell anyone, even the faceless reader who does not know me, as I would never break somebody's trust. And besides, let's face it, of the people I know that read my diary I think all but one already knew me outside of diaryland so I have to be a bit wary.

So what was it that I was going to write about today? Last week I bought tickets to Paul McCartney. I had resigned myself to not going when I discovered it was in Melbourne on a day I was supposed to be working, and would probably cost upwards of $250 just for the concert ticket. I remember once Annie said she'd pay anything to see Paul, but the fact is that she could physically not afford that kind of money, and while I could it seems a ludicrous price to charge for a concert, especially by possibly the wealthiest entertainer on the planet.

Then last Monday I was sitting around on the computer and thought I'd just find out how much the tickets were out of interest. I was pleasantly surprised to find they had tickets available for $100. Okay they also had them for as much as $450, but lets face it, we're not talking about the MCG here so even the cheapest tickets can't be *that* bad. Also I was surprised to find that the tickets were already on sale through the internet, even though the official date they went on sale was the next morning (Tuesday). Getting coverage at work at the moment is a nightmare, with people leaving, new people starting, and sadly one girls brother-in-law died in a car accident which put her unexpectedly out of the picture for at least a few days. So I wasn't happy with the idea of trying to get the appropriate day off work, especially seeing they were already struggling to cover the 3 days I legitimately took as annual leave this weekend. But I thought "this is a once in a lifetime thing. I've been obsessed with the Beatles for a good six years and I want to see Paul McCartney once in my lifetime" and I figured "bah, I'll buy tickets and ask questions later". I also bought a ticket for Annie without asking her, figuring that we'd work something out. I probably would have just given it to her if she had told me she couldn't afford it and couldn't go, but she was also of the opinion that $100 was fair, and she would save up to have enough money for the weekend, even if I had to help her out a bit to start with. The Monday night I made this split second decision she was really upset, and this cheered her up a bit :)

Then there was the issue of telling Ellie I was coming down to Melbourne but I was bringing Annie and I knew that would cause problems- ordinarily if I was going to Melbourne I would stay with Ellie without question, but in this situation it wasn't an option. It would be difficult enough finding a few hours to catch up with Ellie alone, but it was something I planned to do.

None of this is an issue at this point however, as Sir Paul has decided to postpone his concert. And when you're talking Paul McCartney and a little insignificant continent on the other side of the world, I'm almost resigned to accepting "postpone" as "cancel". And this is where Bali comes into it...

Apparently he has postponed the concert out of respect for the victims of the bombings and their familes. "It is not an appropriate time for a rock concert". Okay, call me an insensitive, self-centred arsehole but...

HIS CONCERT WAS SCHEDULED FOR SIX WEEKS AFTER THE BOMBINGS OCCURED! Six weeks!! The Livid festival was actually on the day of national mourning, and I don't think that was the least bit insentive. When a minute's silence descends upon the likes of such purveyors of controlled insanity as Machine Gun Fellatio that's probably more a sign of respect than cancelling the event would be.

Are we supposed to let the terrorists win by changing what we would normally do? Cancel all events that involve enjoyment and/or happiness and wallow in the fact that we will never be the same and we shouldn't try to be? Maybe I'm being presumptuous but I would imagine that the families of the victims would be shocked to hear that people are taking such drastic measures. These were people epitomising the Australian way of life. People holidaying, relaxing and generally not caring about the pressures of the material world, even if only for a week. Surely the best way to show they didn't die in vain is to keep on doing what we usually do. Apparently freedom was a significant theme of the concert, and this was thought not to be appropriate. A group of terrorists challenged the notion that Australians are free to live in peace, wouldn't a concert with a theme of freedom be an ideal commemoration?

After September 11, an American company which owns hundreds of radio stations around the world blacklisted countless songs which they deemed inappropriate. Some obvious ones might have been "New York, New York" or "It's the End of the World As We Know It". But amongst the blacklisted songs were the likes of "Give Peace a Chance" and "Imagine". This ludicrous degree of hypersensitivity is beyond a joke.

In 1988 Bono took to the stage hours after hearing of more senseless death and violence in his homeland. An Irish Catholic, he yelled "Fuck the revolution" before launching into a haunting version of "Sunday Bloody Sunday", changing its tone from one of anger to one of heartache. He had previously vowed never to play the song again after hearing that the biting anti-establishment sentiment had been adopted by the IRA as a marching song.

Why, after September 11, was Sir Paul McCartney's response to write a song about freedom, record a video clip of him singing with an American flag in the background, and headline a concert in support of New York, but in Australia he won't even show enough support to make the journey out here and help put some more happiness into 40,000 hearts?

 

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