Facebook Farm

Spoiler Warning: The following post contains spoilers for the book Animal Farm by George Orwell. If you wish to read the book and do not wish to be spoilt, discontinue reading now!

Twelve voices were shouting in anger, and they were all alike. No question, now, what had happened to the faces of the pigs. The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which.

Those words above are the final words to George Orwell's classic novel Animal Farm. It's a story about a group of animals, lead by intelligent and corrupt pigs, which take control of a farm, and highlights the flaws of revolution and the greed of people, when in the end the pig's lust for power turns them into the very thing they despised in the first place: the humans. Anyway, what does that have to do with this post? I'll get to that later.

It's funny how in a year of using Facebook how drastically my life has changed. I now use it to guide me through pretty much every portion of life; my friends, my family, my upcomming events. My frustration or sadness or glee is vented in the form of a Facebook status. Facebook changes my mood more than the hormones did in my teenage years. As soon as I log on, it's like an adrenaline rush seeing that lovely shade of dark blue. I automatically look to the bottom right of screen and I am especially ecstatic if I see that tiny red bubble pop-up telling I have large numbers of new notifications. I am disappointed if there a no or very few, and I get frustrated when the new notifications are useless ones asking me to test "how gay are you?" in the latest quiz.

I've also noticed recently that facebook is running my life outside of the cyber world. Whenever I take a photo, I automatically think, "should I post this to Facebook?". Whenever a photo is being taken of me, I think "will this be going to Facebook?" and change my pose accordingly. Not once do I consider putting that photo in a nice frame in my room or putting it on the front of a novelty card and sending it to friends at Christmas.

When I have nothing to do, gone are the days of watching my fish swim happily in my aquarium. Gone are the days of taking a walk to the shop, or going down to the cricket nets and rolling my arm over, or even turning on the TV and lazing back into the couch. Instead I sit on Facebook, hoping, praying for someone to say or do something interesting, so I can pounce like a tiger and make a sly comment, and relinquish some of my boredom.

On the positive side, since joining Facebook, I have been invited to more parties than ever before. Or should I say "events". Afterall, all you have to do is click "create an event" and you can give 250 people the place and time of your "event" in a matter of minutes. The thing is, even when orgainsing a "small gathering", people seem to create and event, even when they would only have to call up five or six people on the phone and tell them what's going on. Errrr, what was a phone again? Actually talk to people in real life? The very thought of it makes me squirm.

So now Facebook tells me where to be, who I can and can't talk to (denpending on whether they are on or offline on Facebook chat), how I feel, what music I should listen to, what my mates have been up to. It saves me from boredom. It changes my mood. It shows me when the next slick party is going to be. It's even given me study tips, pick-up lines, told me about eating noodles with chopsticks, helped me with my assignments, established friendships with people I've never met before, and destroyed friendships which were last-time-I-saw-them, close. I love Facebook, and Facebook loves me. Together we are an unbeatable team, as long as we stick together, we will never feel sad or left out or lonely ever again.

So now comes the part in which the previously mentioned Animal Farm passage begins to make sense.

You see, right at this very moment, I am logging on to Facebook. And no question now, what has happened to my life. As the beautiful dark blue theme of Facebook appears, and I glance down into the bottom right hand corner for my new notifications, I look from real life to computer screen, and from computer screen to real life, and from real life to computer screen again; but already it is impossible to say which is which.

Oktoberfest 2009: The Story

4:30 - 5:00 pm: After getting to the Oktoberfest field, the signs blatantly read "No pass outs", much to Alex's disappointment as he had to wait for a friend to come from Murdoch (Alex's use of the word "fuck" greatly increased at that point). But there was to be no waiting around today, and in we went! We got given plastic steins, of which we were all a little disappointed about, although we eventually agreed it a smart move by the organisers. First stop was to visit Phil Groom, one of our lecturers, at the first aid tent. We bid him farewell and hoped not to see him again that night. Finally, it was time to get what we all so dearly wanted: Beer. "Best beer I've had all day" I cheekily remarked. "Chris, it's the only beer you had all day" Alex much too soberly reminded me.

Oh yeah, by this point Alex's friend James had decided, just as we walked through the gates, that he wasn't going to come. And so the 3 hour long hunt began to find someone to buy it (by this time I had never heard Alex say the word "fuck" so many times).

Alright, this is where the memory starts to get a little bit hazy. I will try and piece it together as well as possible from a variety of text messages and what little fragments of memory I have left.

Around 5:20 pm: I think it was around this time when we abandoned Caitlin, Nic and Robbie and were in the line for a second beer, when I bumped into my old friend from school, Carla. It was nice to see her, as it always is seeing an old friend. Of course, Trish was meeting people she knew left, right and center. Everytime we went for a walk we would spend one minute walking and ten talking to a bunch of Trish's friends (we ended up moving a grand total of about ten meters in half an hour). I also remember a girl coming up to me and telling me that she was going to go back outside and jump the fence back in, just to prove that she could... ok then.

Around 6 pm: At this time I had purchased some kind of dark beer, by accident of course. I just went for the one on the end, and it tasted disgusting... no wonder there was nobody lining up! It must have taken me over an hour to finish it, it was rank! Anyway, finally the rest of the Environmental Biologists arrived, along with Kurt, who would continue to haunt me all night.

6:10 pm: I called Caitlin, but I couldn't hear her over the noise so the conversation consisted of many "what?'s" and "Huh?'s" and "Ok?'s". I was supposed message her my location, but I didn't - I forgot, or just couldn't be bothered.

6:13 pm: Text message received from Alex: "Where u at". I think at this time Neil, Lina, Trish and myself were lining up for the cubicals. I didn't get back to him until 6:46.

6:17 pm: I got a message from dad, something about going to the football tomorrow. Unfortunately by this point my hand-eye coordination was far too insufficient to reply anything other than a few mangled words, so in the pocket the phone went.

6:19 pm: Message from Caitlin: "Where r u". Hmm, yet another text that I didn't manage to reply to.

6:46 - 6:47: I finally got back to Alex, and he (to my surprise) messaged back instantly, he was still in line for the toilets. At 7pm I got another text from Alex: "Dude im still in the toilej line".

7:17 pm: Lina, Neil and myself had been long separated from the main group, when I got a text from Hank-Anthony: "hey where r u guys?". Yet another message I failed to send out a reply to, and in hindsight it's no wonder we couldn't find anyone all night.

Between 7:19 and 8:07 pm: I got a string of messages from Alex, telling me to meet him at the first shade tent. I think Neil, Lina and I were sitting on the ground in the middle of the festival in hope of somebody finding us - not a chance. A bit earlier we had found Trish and lost her again. I also think this may have been the point where I lost my wallet, and everything in it. While sitting on the ground, I must have taken it out of my pocket, put it on the ground and left it there. You idiot!

Probably around 8:10 pm: The three lonesome travelers stumbled our way to the first shade tent, where everyone was sitting there just chillin'. No rest for the weary though, as Lina and myself had to go to the toilet again. Of course, the lines were even longer, and I think we kind of barged our way into a frontal position and managed to hold it (in both senses of the word). Perfect. While I was in the cue I remember having a conversation with this chick that was next to me in the line. Well, if conversation is right way to put it... it was a bit more like a series of drunken noises exchanged between two people who were in desperate need of a toilet... in anycase, it worked out well as we both protected each other's position in the cue, beating back the drunken rabblers attempting to jump in front of us. I, being the gentlemen I am, went in before her.

8:20 pm??????: Well, at this point I realised that my wallet was no longer in my pocket, and the dread of losing everything in it should have hit me like a train... but it didn't. Furthermore, Lina so kindly lent me 8 tickets for another pint of Heineken, just to ease the pain. I think at this point I bumped into mutual friend of the day, Dane, the guy I sold my ticket to earlier in the piece. I can barely remember what was exchanged during this meeting, infact, I'm not 100% convinced it was even him!

Between 8:20 and 8:55: I think we just sat around for a while with everyone back at the first shade tent... I don't remember exactly who was there. Kurt was, and he made me give him quite a bit of my last beer. Alex continually stated he was "fucked" and wasn't gunna drink anymore. Syngeon was spacing, Nicola and Robbie were next to me... or maybe we wandered for a bit, because I specifically remember bumping into Erin and exchanging phone numbers, and I'm pretty sure she put in a number that wasn't mine... oh well.

9:00 pm: Since I didn't have any way of getting home (my smartrider was in my wallet), I decided I would have to get a lift home with Alex's wonderful mother. I am forever in her debt. As we walked towards the location where we were to be picked up, we both agreed we had to pee "so bad", and so to the nearest tree we went. I remember there was a girl coming out of the same patch of trees pulling up her pants... classy, then again who am I to talk? Just as I was about to go, Lina called, and as much as enjoyed talking to her, the wait was agonising, and the convo was a little rushed.

9:30 pm: As I got dropped off at the bus stop near my house, there were a couple of random people standing around, 3 in fact, 2 girls and a guy. It just so happens that they had just came back from Oktoberfest too. Then one of the girls asked me to come to some place in Freo with her. Hmmm, that sounded like a grand adventure, until I realised I had no money, no id, no hope. I dispiritedly turned her down and trudged home in disappointment.

11:43 pm: The night ended with me getting a call from Caitlin, wondering "If you are still here". No I told her, and that I left early because of my lost wallet. Then I listened as she went on an angry rant about someone stealing it, and that I should get a gun, and that if I had a gun I could have shot the person who stole it. Fair enough. The conversation ended with her saying "seeya on Monday". "Ok" I said, even though I knew I wouldn't see her 'til at least Wednesday. And that pretty much summed up the night, the night of utter confusion, mayhem, forgotten messages, lost people, lost wallets and and a whole lotta fun!

A Calypso Treat in the Rainbow Nation

The West Indian side which played in the recent Champions Trophy in South Africa mave been "second-string", but a lot of countries could learn a thing or two from those young men from the Caribbean.

Their best player is a 27 year old left arm orthodox spinner/all rounder who bats down at eight. Their first change bowler barely touches the 130kph mark. Their opening batsmen average 24.32 and 2.5 respectively, and their captian is a 37 year old Barbadian who has played no less than eight one day internationals. These statistics led many to believe that this West Indian side would be a liability to the tournament, but statistics often lie, and the appearance of this second-string side far from degraded the level of cricket in the 2009 ICC Champions Trophy.

I have to admit, I was a little bit skeptical about the quality of the West Indian side going into this years Champions Trophy. Afterall, it was this side who had lost all of their senior players to a dispute with the West Indian Cricket board, and then lost two tests against Bangladesh and been hammered in the corresponding one-day series. Although I am all for the underdog, I couldn't help but feel that Bangladesh would have made the tournament just a little bit more exciting and competitive than what the Caribbean side could throw up. I was wrong.

Yes, the West Indies struggled, in terms of solid cricketing ability. But what they lacked in pure talent, ability to play the swinging ball and precision to produce consistent bowling performances, they made up for in heart, and fight, and pride that they showed playing for their country.

It's an interesting word to throw around, pride. With all of the big money tournaments springing up seemingly every year, IPL, ICL, Champions League etc., one gets the feeling that many players have forgoten to behold the main reason for playing international cricket: to represent your country. When I was a young boy, much like many other young children around the world, all I dreamt of was representing my country, Australia, in an international cricket match. And if I was tallented enough, if I got asked to pull on the baggy green without pay I would more than happily ablige. I'm by no means suggesting that the top players should get no money for playing cricket, but I think some players (because of all the money in the game) are forgetting the simple, undeniable truth that they are, one of only 11 players who get to represent their country, out of all the millions of people residing in their nation.

That's why I enjoy watching this young West Indies team play, because they are the second string side, and they are less talented than some of the bigger cricketing nations, and they do have poorer first class systems, and they do get payed considerably less than what other players from other countries get... but they haven't forgotten they are representing their country, they haven't forgotten they are living a childhood dream, the dream that seldom others get to come true. It's something other players around the world can learn from these West Indies players.

I also love the amount of fight, and passion this West Indies side shows. They pushed both Pakistan, and then Australia to the limits of both sides abilities, when in reality they shouldn't have got anywhere close. I was in awe watching the fighting innings played by Nikita Miller when his side was struggling to push 100 in their match against Pakistan, and his demolishon of the Australian middle order in their second match. I thoroughly enjoyed the heart shown by Gavin Tonge who ripped through the Pakistani top order at the Wanderers. I loved watching Darren Sammy smash Mitchell Johnson, my idol, for two sixes as his side threatened to take victory out of the hands of the faultering Australians. But the image representing the West Indies that I will take away from this years Champions Trophy is that of Floyd Reifer, the 37 year old skipper from Barbados, at the toss of the match against India, the final one of their tournament. He looked extreemly shy, yet humble, honest, and not afraid to tell Ravi Shastri that he was proud of what his side had achieved, and that they were far from a liability to the 2009 Champions Trophy.

And I agree. The Australian Cricket board has made it clear that if a second string West Indies side tour Australia later this year, they will be looking elsewhere to try and improve the quality of cricket played over the summer. Yet I would be delighted to see this young side from the Caribbean tour down under in December, and furthermore, will be more than happy to pay the price of admition to see the Windies in action.

Friday Afternoon (Home)

Friday Afternoon. The deep breath before the plunge. Countless times I have sat in that room, countless times have I walked those halls. Countless times I have passed through those doors, looked out those windows, drank the sour water, smelt the musty air.  All is quiet in Environmental Biology on a friday afternoon, yet every time I walk in there, no matter how desolate, it feels like home. 

Are You Sure?

Ever heard the song "Are You Sure?" by Willie Nelson? It goes a little something like this:

Oh, look around you

Look down the bar from you

The lonely faces that you see

Are you sure that this is where you want to be?

These are your friends

But are they real friends

Do they love you the same as me

Are you sure that this is where you want to be?

It just about sums up where I was at a few days ago. At the Tav the previous Friday afternoon I just wasn't feeling happy. Even at Cindy's party I just wasn't there. I was going through the motions, not really enjoying life, and not sure as to which direction I was headed. Was Environmental Biology really for me?... I was stupid to question it!

On Tuesday night the students of Vertebrate Animals 202 (me included) went out to Harry Waring Marsupial Reserve, just south of Perth, to study some of the native wildlife. It was ten and a half hours of searching for reptiles, catching birds, and trapping, tagging and releasing marsupials. For me, it was ten and a half hours of pure enjoyment. 

It was probably about 12am and five degrees when it happened. I was walking though thick bushland with my close mate Kenny, having just captured, tagged and released a female bandicoot carrying two tiny pink babies in it's pouch.  I had been out in the wilderness for nine and a half hours, yet I didn't feel tired, nor cold. I felt so at home, so comfortable doing what I was doing. It was at that moment when I realised that this was what I wanted to be doing for the rest of my life. This was exactly where I wanted to be.

It's a feisty possum!

And a Bandicoot!

Me with "Edward" the Bobtail (Named after the Vampire).

They spend about 20 minutes just trying to uncurl this stubborn Echidna!

The Ashes

I wait nervously. Today begins the five most important days of this year. If we can win, if we can take home that little earn like we so deserve, that we all so desire, then life will be so, so sweet...

 But if we fail, heartbreak awaits, devastation is too feeble a word to describe how I will be feeling come the days after. Alas, I will eventually get over it. But memories of 2005 still haunt me as I walk down dark halls, my heart is still heavy as I dream of dispair and depletion, tears still well up in my eyes as I recall Andrew Flintoff consoling Brett Lee at Edgbaston, I still close my eyes when I see Michael Vaughan hold up that little urn at The Oval, as red and white showers of confetti rain down upon the Old Enemy's celebration. I still wish that those 25 days could be written out of history...

If we let the Ashes slip from our grasp once more, then memories of 2009 will eventually do the same. Winning the Ashes is everything.

Lost Wallets, Pretty Bus Drivers and Cloning?

About 5 years ago, I wrote a feature article for english about cloning. I thought it was fascinating, creating exact same copies of a living thing without needing both a mother and father being sexually involved. Little did I know, that 5 years later I would actually be cloning for myself. 

Ok, so I wasn't exactly extracting an egg from a female sheep, and taking DNA from a second sheep and putting that DNA into the gamete of the first sheep, then putting the now fertile egg back into the female sheep and hey presto! A clone is created. I was however, cloning plasmid DNA using E. coli cultures!

Well, at least I think I was... unfortunately, you can't actually see Cloning happening in a test tube...

Today's cloning coincidence was not the only queer thing to happen to me today. First of all, I had left my wallet at my father's house, so with no concession card, I had to pay full fare for the bus. Four bloody dollars fifty, just to get to uni. 

Secondly, the bus driver that took me from the train station to uni was, to my utter surprise, extremely pretty. In fact, she was absolutely gorgeous. She was young, and blonde, and it made me sad... a pretty girl like her driving busses around all day. Oh well, if that's makes her happy, then I'm happy too!

Unfortunately after uni I had to go all the way out to the 'burbs, or as we sometimes say, "whoop whoop", to pick up my wallet from my dad's. As if that wasn't bad enough, on the way back from Bibra Lake, I just happened to get on the "school special". This was the bus that went to Winthrop Baptist College to take the school children home. As usual, the bloody teenagers were rowdy and annoying, and the girl that sat next to me conveniently used me as a chair. 

What are you gunna do?