A Hairy Quest

nce upon a time, there was young and noble squire. This squire was lean of muscle and quick of mind. He set forth from his home land in search of adventure and soon found himself in a new and strange land known simply as Oz. He lived among the exotic people of that land, gradually adjusting to their odd customs and many dangers. His life continued on for some while as he made his way in this new place, until one day when diaster happened upon him. You see the young squire had a terrible weakness. When his hair grew too long he would be rendered powerless and strengthless. His appearance becoming homely, and his power with the maidens of this new land decreased (which let's face it wasn't that great to begin with). In his native land the squire was able to overcome such weakness only with the help of a man of magic, Frank of Barber, but in this new land he was alone in combating this particularly dreaded evil.

Thus, it came a time when the young squires hair had grown too long and ere he be rendered completely subdued by his fast growing locks, he turned to the wizard, Goo'gul, whose employ he had aquired previously for a rather generous sum of 15 golden pieces delievered for every fortnight of service rendered. It was a steep price but without such services the young squire could not check his book of faces or watch the magical moving pictures of sneezing felines or dramatic chipmunks on YeTube.

So it came to pass that the young squire in his time of need turned to the great wizard, Goo'gul for adivce in this most dire of circumstances. The wizard told the squire of a man possessing magical instruments that could be used to cut the troublesome locks. The wizard directed the squire to the Street of Church where he would find the great man who could aid him. Early the next day our hero set out from his modest house of accomodation and journeyed forth to the Street of Church where he searched lowe and high for many hours, but was unable to find the shop of which the wizard had spoken. Instead, having skipped morning meal, and with a growing thirst, the young squire paid a single gold piece in exchange for a magical orange fruit that was able to restore his flagging strength and quench his undying hunger.

After his failure he returned again to the wizard Goo'gul, his anger overflowing at the treachery of the sorcerer. Goo'gul repented at giving our hero the poor information and endevoured to make right his mistake amended by telling the squire of another magical shop which could help cure him of his ailment. Though still wary of trusting the wizard, the young squire was desperate for help, ere the curls upon his head become too much to bare. So, our hero accepted this new quest, knowing that it would not be an easy one.

The new shop of magic was many leagues from where the squire stood, beyond the High Way of Neapea. The journey would require much walking and great trial, but he set out nonetheless. He did so with haste knowing that soon he would need to venture to the Great Kingdom of Melbourne to commence his lowly job of begging amongst the townsfolk. It was not a job he favored particularly, but one undertaken each day to put food on his table and water in his cup.

So it came to pass that the young squire found himself walking the Road of the South under the hot sun of Oz. Often in his journey, our hero would come across small trading posts and palazas of commerce. Whenever he did he would search them for the like of a man who possessed the magical instruments needed to free him of his chains of hair, but it was as the wizard had foretold. There were no such shops to be found, except beyond the High Way of Neapea. thus he continued, but not without challenge. The road was fraught with many dangers and soon the young squire encountered a great creature. It was black as pitch and fast as the eye. Its horrible wings sent forth a terrible droning noise, like the sound of saw cutting through wood. The creature attacked our hero, relentlessly striking toward his face. The buzzing of its wings was deafening and though the young squires patience and strength were quickly flagging he vanquished the black, winged monster, but not without loss.

During the ferocious battle the magical glasses of the squire had been thrown to the earth and now lay at his feet, broken. This enchanted eyepiece not only dampened the harsh sun of this strange land but gave the young squire great far-sightedness. However our hero was most distrught as they were a gift given to him by the Prince of Silverstein upon the occassion of his marriage to his beloved wife, Kristy of Joy. A sudden anger filled the young squire's breast as he knew he would now need to find an eyesmith to repair his magical glasses ere he go blind or suffer an unforseeable fate due to near-sightedness. This would cost many golden pieces, but our hero suffered this newest annoyance and pressed on with his quest.

Thus, he soon found himself gazing upon the High Way of Neapea. It stood like a huge black river as creatures of steel and exotic plastics soared across it from one end to the next and beyond all seeing. Through the magic of colored lights the squire was able to pass safely over this treacherous river and come at last to his promised destination, but all was for naught.

The squire found that Goo'gul had tricked him again and that the shop he sought was not beyond the High Way of Neapea, but time was short. Thus it was with a heavy heart that the Squire purchased a magical parchment which allowed him entrance to the great silver snake that would tkae him to reach the Kingdom of Melbourne. His quest was over for this day, but the Squire vowed to never give up until he was freed of his accursed locks.

Defeated the young squire arose the next day and set off for the Kingdom of Melbourne, knowing that surely if a man of such magic were to exist it would be within the selpuchre walls of the great land. Thus, his patience and virtue were rewarded, in part. He found many men of the scissors. When he inquired at the first shop, suspiciouly referred to as a Man's Salon fo Beauty, he learned that the price of such aid would be 25 golden pieces. He promptly left. The next shop wanted 30 pieces of gold. Finally after walking the long Street of Sydney, he came upon a kindly old woman of obvious Hellenistic decent. She was alone in her shop and required only 20 golden pieces to free the young squire of his affliction. He aqcuiesced and was relieved of heavy burden that sat upon his head, and recieved a free sample bottle of dandruff fighting conditioner.

Relieved and accomplished in his quest, our young hero returned home, upon a magical tram car of the kingdom. On his way back to his modest house of accomodation he sighted another magical man of the scissors with a sign advertising cutting of hair as only 10 golden pieces fours times per new moon on the days of Mars. With understandable heavy-heartedness the young squire sighed at his typical luck. He did smile though, as he though that when he returned to his house of accomodation, perhaps he would have Goo'gul search for the video of the surprised kitten.

Oz (The HBO Show, not the techni-color fantasy world)

Remains of the Port Arthur prison. It was devestated by a bush
fire, as most things in Australia usually are.

While I was in Tasmania I had an opportunity to explore the sordid history of Australia's past, by visiting Port Arthur prison. It was established in 1830, and now (if you know Australian history), you might ask, "But Adam, that was during the days of transportation? Wasn't all of Australia technically a prison during that time?" First off, don't ask me stupid questions... Secondly, its a lot more complicated than that.

Van Dieman's Land (which is what they called Tasmania during the 1800's) was actually a prison within a prison. If you were sent to Hobart in VD Land that meant you were really unlucky or you screwed up royally somehow during your stay in Australia. In VD Land, almost all the roads that today are cut through the mountainous islands were done with manual prison labor, (which makes me wonder why they couldn't have cut some a few inches wider. Seriously, a guy can be killed driving on those narrow roads over 50 foot cliffs.) So is Tasmania was like the maximum security wing within the prison, than Port Arthur was like the isolation cells within the maximum security wing within the prison. It was a place set up to deal with troublemakers and repeat offenders, and in every sense of the word it was a prison.

However, I will come back to that. For now I want to discuss Australia as a prison colony. As most things in western culture do, we should look back to Rome as we start the tale of Australian history. For in Rome there were tales of a mysterious continent called, Terra Australis Icognita, which (as any of my fellow classmates in Mr. Klein's High School Latin Class should know) means Unknown Land of the South. The Continent wasn't first spotted until 1606 by a Dutch explorer named Willem Janszoon, (so the Aussies should count their blessings because the continent could have easily been called Janszoonia), but since Janszoon was Dutch he merely explored a little drew some maps, and went along his merry way without a thought of colonization. It wasn't until Captain James Cook exploration in 1770 that the British began to think, "Hey, I bet we can send prisoners there," that anyone really thought of the possibilities of colonies.

Of course, this was done for many reasons. First and foremost, a bunch of crazy colonists had just started some kind of uproar on the American Colonies and unceremoniously tossed the Brits out on their Imperial arses. This meant that the British Empire just had a huge chunk of land taken away from them, they lost their main supplier of logging and forestry (As the majority of British ships were made with American timber), and they lost a convenient place to ship off their more undesirable debtors and the like. So with Cook's rediscovery, the British Crown turned their sights on Australia not only for a source of timber and as a new land to go boldly forth and conquer the hell out of, but as a place to send the sort of people you wouldn't necessarily want to invite for tea and crumpets.

Thus, in 1788 Captain Arthur Phillip docked the First Fleet in Australia and began unloading close to 800 prisoners, and that was just the beginning. Over the next 80 years Britain would send more than 165,000 prisoners, men, women, and children, to Australia... but why? I mean it cost the British Crown, thousands and thousands of dollars to send a convict clost to 10,000 miles around the world. Unlike transportation to America which was done at the expense of the debtors or the owners of the indentured servants, Australian transportation was done entirely on the Imperial dime. So why even bother.

The problem was that in Britain the population had risen dramatically during the 18th century. London was overcrowded, had a high unemployment rate and a high drunken rate, and child labor laws were few and far between. (Basically, think of any Charles Dickens novel.) So the place was a mess, and petty crimes such as theft had become a major problem. Britain had a very small police force with most citizens expected to police themselves and their neighbors. By the start of the 19th century Britain had repealed most the "Bloody Laws," meaning that the death penalty could no longer be given for minor offenses or small crimes, so the prisons were exploding with people. Basically, Australia offered a sort of odd hope, not only for population relief but, to many Brit, as a way to sort of get rid of the more undesirable elements of society once and for all.

Common crimes that were punishable by transportation were petty theft, repeat offending of the law, embezzlement, receiving or buying stolen goods, stealing fish from a river or pond (it gets weirder), setting fire to underwood, recommending that politicians get paid, starting a union, or being suspected of supporting Irish terrorism. Mostly, transportation was seen as humane alternative to the death penalty. Incidentally, crimes in England that still carried the death penalty were considered serious ones, such as: murder, rape, or impersonating an Egyptian (told you it got weirder). Also, Australia and Port Arthur, in particular, became home to several political prisoners including those from the many Scottish and Irish rebellions of the 1800's and even, oddly enough, some from the Upper and Lower Canadian Rebellions of 1839 and 1842 (Leave it to Canada to jump on the revolution train 60 years too late.)

Port Arthur is considered one of the most famous prison sites in the world. It is listed among the UN's Heritage Sites and quite frankly is pretty damn impressive. It was named Van Deimen's Land's Lieutenant Governor at the time George Arthur, and it was set up as a "model prison." In other words it was meant to work not only as a prison, but as a factory, a rehabilitation center, and even as a technical school for prisoners. All of this was explained to us by our Hobbit-like guide as he enthusiastically led us around the ground of the old prison. He called the whole a place a "well-oiled machine," and it kind of was. Not only did serve as a prison, but by the time most prisoners were released they had learned several crafts and at least one trade such as stone-cutting, carpentry, black-smithing, etc, and could even earn a small wage. Additionally, within Port Arthur was established the world's first juvenile correctional facility, Point Puer, where young convict boys were actually separated from their older counterparts. The proof of all this, seems to be in the "pudding that is not getting stolen from your window-sill," as most prisoners, once released went out into greater Australia, bought some land, and became productive happy citizens... that is not say that the prison was a paradise, just effective.

Memorial to the dog line and all the cuddily puppies that once
lived there.

As with most prisons, the conditions were harsh, meals were meager, and your cell-mate was probably looking to jam something somewhere in you, the good news was that it was basically inescapable. Port Arthur was established on a peninsula that narrowed down to a mere 18 miles wide at a place called Eagleneck, and again further inland where the peninsula met the mainland of Tasmania. At Eagleneck the British soldiers set up a line of half-starved mastiff dogs chained in a straight line called the "dog line." It ran across the entirety of Eagleneck and the dogs were chained far enough away so that they could not attack one another, but close enough that no person could walk through them without being attacked. To further complicate things the water around Port Arthur was known to be infested with sharks, and the terrifying cries of the Tasmanian wildlife in the deep dark forests of the night were more than enough incentive to stop anyone from trying something foolish, but of course they did anyway.

In the almost 50 years it acted as a prison, there were only less than two dozen escape attempts, and most never succeeded. Less than a handful of people ever actually managed to escape from Port Arthur, usually in bizarre ways. Martin Cash, an Irish prisoner, is the most famous as he escaped from Port Arthur twice. Being an educated man he was able to swim around Eagleneck Point after sitting for two days and watching the British soldiers and memorizing their routines and patterns of march. He became a Bushranger (which is a legendary figure in Aussie history, though it really only means that he robbed and killed people and took their money.) He even escaped being hung for his second escape, (Because once you escape Port Arthur there is really no where else to go. Even if you get off Tasmania, you still stuck in Australia), because the people of Australia admired him so much they created an uproar and his sentence was communed to life in prison. His fellow gang members were not so lucky as they were still hung.

However, my one of my favorite stories is of George "Billy" Hunt. He escaped Port Arthur and disguised himself as a Kangaroo to get passed the guards at Eagleneck. The plan would have actually worked until one of the hungry guards decided to go hunting and set his sights on the kangaroo Billy was impersonating. To keep from being shot he had to stand-up and reveal that he was in fact a prisoner and not a kangaroo. He was immediately brought back to Port Arthur where he was punished with 50 lashes.

In another attempt 6 prisoners managed to steal the warden's private yacht. They actually managed to sail out of the port and northward up the Australian coast. They plundered and stole whatever they could find from settlements along the coast and they managed to get as high was Queensland, until they decided to turn back. They promptly turned the ship around and went back to Port Arthur to turn themselves in. Unfortunately they missed the opening to peninsula and eventually reached Hobart where they were captured again and sent back to Port Arthur.

There are alot more tales about similar escape attempts, most of which end in failure. Port Arthur was not only a historic place but a beautiful place as well. It was oddly British in the fact that the trees and even the grass were transplanted flora from England (because to the Brits if a place is not as English as possible than its not considered properly colonized.) Nowadays, Port Arthur is only a prison for the thousands of tourists that come and see it every year. It was closed in 1877, and almost instantly became a tourist attraction.

As for the rest of Australia, transportation by England stopped in 1868, as gold was discovered in several parts of Australia and the colony was in the grips of a massive gold rush. Thus, people in England were starting to commit transport worthy crimes (like suggesting that their local mayor be paid), in order to get free transportation to a place where they could strike it rich. I suppose it no longer seemed like a fitting punishment.

So nowadays over 70% of all Australians can claim convict ancestry, though surprisingly most seem to avoid the subject. I have asked a few people if they are descended from convicts and they usually change the subject or tell me politely to stop bothering them, because its not a proper subject to talk about at a urinal. Other Aussies, are quick to say that their family arrived after transportation, and still others seem reluctant to even claim that their family at some point might have been British. Most seem content to assume that they spontaneously appearred on the continent and do not question if there was anything before that. However, that is not true for all as some Aussies are proud of their heritage and their roots. However, on the plus side the supermarkets do have a wide variety of "cakes with a nail-file filling." Both delicious and escapingly good.

Slowbart, Tasmania

Tasmania

So as I was was saying, there is very little civilization to be found in Tasmania, but great natural beauty. On our drive across the island, (which can be driven end to end at the longest points in under 8 hours,) we saw one amazing scene after another. We visited Cataract Gorge where a long suspension bridge hangs suspended over a river of rapids. We hiked trails Freycinet National Park, a place that resembles Arizona with its great boulders and rocky cliffs, before finally emerging several hundred feet in the air overlooking Wineglass Bay, (Tasmania's most famous coastline).

We even passed through Mt. Elephant on a road called Elephant Pass. The road was windy, hard to navigate, and at times was butted up against a shear rock walls with nothing between the car and a three-hundred foot drop but a flimsy guardrail. Sufficed to say there were several nerve racking moments as I drove our little car (on the other side of the road) through these narrow and treacherous passes, but looking back it beautiful... terrifying, but beautiful. As we climbed we actually entered the low-lying cloud cover surrounding the mountain's peak (which of course also obscured vision, made the roads wet and slippery, and cause sporadic and sudden rain downfalls.) I think Rebecca ripped the car's upholstery, she was digging her nails into the seat so tightly.

Yet, that seems to be life in Tassie. I say this because according to the map and the GPS, Elephant Pass is considered the main highway that leads from the island's interior to the eastern highway. And yet again, I find myself amazed at some people's definition of "main highway." The roads were so narrow that, when driving it often came to play games of chicken with oncoming cars. (This would not have been so bad, if for the fact that most oncoming cars were in fact 18-wheelers hauling tree trunks.) The second complication to a lack of civilization was, of course, the lack of radio stations. There were about 5 stations, and the one we finally settled on was a very local station called "The Star."



The music itself was not bad, though it was hard to pin down what kind of station it was. One minute they were playing classic rock and the next they were playing Kanye West. I found that the real joy listening to the station was in the commercial programming. "The Star FM is brought to you by Jim and Susan's Hardware Store. Located conveniently just behind the old Samson's Barn." I know this is a small thing, but when traveling I have found that it is often the small things that amaze me. Sometimes it is easier to see and cope with the bigger differences in the lives of foreign people. You can see that they live in tropical weather or in the desert, or they ride camels instead of cars, etc... However, when you get to the minutia of things you tend find something so familiar yet so different.

Cataract Gorge (the gorge with failing eyesight)



As an example of this, I present to you the city of Hobart. The capital city of Tasmania, the second oldest city after Sydney in all of Australia, the biggest center of civilization on Tasmania, and our final destination. From all appearance it is a city almost like any other major metropolitan areas of the world. There are buildings (even some tall ones), parks, grid-like roads, even confusing one-way streets with traffic lights. However, we soon discovered what set Hobart apart from other cities. Apparently it shuts down at about 6 PM, to awaken sometime around 9 or 10 AM... Now you might think I am not exaggerating to make a point or to try and be funny... I'm not.

After our arrival and a good old customary brother-sister fight, Rebecca and I set out to explore the city and maybe even find something to eat or at least a cup of coffee (or tea/hot chocolate for me). We walked the streets of Hobart in search of an open coffee shop, restaurant, or even convenience store. It was 9 o'clock at night and we found nothing open, except for two bars, both of promptly closed at 10 PM. The streets were deserted and it was only 9 on a Thursday. It felt like it should have been 2 AM. We did meet some people, most of which were creepily sitting in bus stop terminals, but the real creepy part is that we walked for an hour and did not see a single bus. I had to make sure we had not stepped into some children-of-the-corn-type horror movie.

Now, I'm not expecting every city to be like New York or even Philly, but I was hoping for a bit more life. I mean it did not seem an unreasonable request to find a cup of coffee at 9 PM, or to find a cup of coffee at 7 AM, which we could not do either. The next day we had to get up early to go on our planned trip to the prison of Port Arthur. We rose and wearily rolled out of the Hostel in search of food and caffeine. There were several coffee places we saw the night before in our wanderings and we headed toward them assuming that they would be open and serving food and drink for all those busy workers heading off to their jobs of employment... We were again wrong. They were all closed. We had to settle for getting breakfast at the only open establishment, Subway. I didn't even know Subway did breakfast. (They do.)

Wineglass Bay (drink it in)

By this time it was closing in on 8 in the morning, and shops and restaurant were still not open. This leads to my assumption that everyone in Hobart follows a work schedule more akin to college students, where you try to get up for a 10 AM class... if you feel like it. This was of course even more frustrating for me the next day when I had to return or rental car. According to policy it had to be returned on a full tank of gas (or petrol as they say.) So fine. I get up at about 7:30, because I have to return the car at 8. I almost didn't return it on time, because I drove around the city for 20 minutes trying to find an open gas station. I had to travel 4 miles outside the city to actually find one that was open and serving gas.

As I said it is the small difference in travel that tends to amaze me more, differences like the hours of operation of a city or coffee shops that open at 11 and close by 3. Radio stations sponsored by Ma and Pa's Sheep Feed, or even little unforeseen obstacles, like getting gas. However, in these difference you often find the similarities. Mostly you find them in the people you meet. Someone may be from Germany, France, Tasmania, Brisbane, or San Fransisco, but people are people. We met two very nice girls on our trip to Port Arthur, Julie from Brisbane and Laurel from San Fransisco (which I was amazed to meet another American). We all grew up in very different places with very different lives, but we all shared a lot of the same opinions and thoughts about the world. Humans, like the places we inhabit, can be strange and different and even weird, but no matter how different we are, you can always find something familiar if you look hard enough. That was true for the people we met and for the places we visited.

Because, for all Hobart's differences, I found a small convenience store in the middle of the city where they sold Hersey's candy bars. I have never seen them before anywhere else in Australia. What are the odds I would have found them in a small little convenience store in the middle of city that falls asleep before my grandparents? Maybe that is the real reason we travel, not to see the strange and the exotic but to find the familiar in that which we think is merely strange and exotic.

Should've Took that Left at Albuquerque

Tasmania (or Tassie as the locals call it) is a beautiful little island off the bottom part of Australia. To reach it my sister and I took the Spirit of Tasmania, a ferry/small cruise liner on an 11 hour voyage across the Bass Strait. Before taking this adventure a lot of Aussies warned me that the strait was going to be very choppy, though I did not find that to be the case. Besides even if it did sink and only the top 5% of the passengers survived, I felt confident that we were going to be in that top percentile, as the average age of the other passengers traveling with us was 72. Apparently, no one travels the Spirit of Tasmania on a Wednesday night unless you are retired and looking to relive your navy days from the Second World War (and First World War for some of them).
The journey was smooth and we spent the majority of our waking time in one of the bars or eating the overpriced food. The live band (I use the term loosely) was not bad, though I do wonder if being the house band for a glorified ferry service would stand as the highlight or the low-point in one's musical career. We spent the majority of the time sleeping in our small cabin as the journey was at night and docked the next morning at 6:30 AM.

After awaking in the morning we were both sorely disappointed with the offering at the "continental" breakfast, and seeing as how you had to pay with your first-born child to get a plate of croissants and bad smelling coffee we went ashore looking for breakfast. What we found was the city of Devonport (again, I use the term lightly). What I thought was one of Tasmania's main cities was barely a town the rival any found in the middle of the Jersey Pine Barrens. At 6:30 there was not much options so we settled on a small bakery where I had a cheese, bacon, and egg pie. In Australia they make pies out of anything, but it wasn't bad. After breakfast we collected our rental car and headed out to see Tassie.

In hindsight my real mistake was not seeing the developing trend that would unfurl before us as we traveled across the island in search of centers of civilization... Mostly because there are none, or not at least as we know them. Every "town" we passed through was marked by a bar, a post office, and maybe a school. Even the major towns were barely more than a collection of buildings grouped around the highway. When we arrived at Coles Bay, (what I was assured was a lush modern vacationing town by the bay near Freycinet National Park,) I assumed we could stop for gas and lunch, but true to form there were no gas stations, and only two places to eat. One was a cafe that served only coffee and old muffins, the other was a fish and chips place that looked mysteriously abandoned.

However, every dark cloud has its silver-lining. It is true there was almost no sign of civilization to be found, but the natural beauty of the island more than made up for it. It was not tropical scenery I had come to expect when traveling around Victoria and Melbourne, instead it was lush and greener than any place I have yet to find in Australia. As we drove through the morning the sun began to rise and the dew and moisture of the night burned off in vapor and fog, giving the whole landscape an almost eerie mystical appearance. I felt like I was driving our small little rented Hyundai through Narnia, Middle Earth, or Colorado. The terrain was very mountainous and the cloud cover stayed low for most of the day. The peaks of great mountains and hills were often obscured in white vaporous mist. It was unreal.

I will end the telling of my tale here and pick this up in my next post. Stay Tuned.

Red, White, and Australian

I think John Boehner is checking out her "bum."

One of the biggest new stories circulating around the country of Australia in the past few days was Julia Gillard's speech to Congress. Apparently only 4 Australia n Prime Ministers before her have ever addressed a joint session of the American legislative body. The one thing that really sticks out to me when you read the speech is basically that she flatters the hell out of us. She is like our own little redheaded cheerleader.

The one thing that really becomes apparent when watching this speech is that Australians have a much more positive outlook on America than most Americans usually do. What I have learned in my time Australia is that when Aussie's think of the USA they tend to fall into two categories: those that like us, and those that are afraid to displease us. The funny part is that (even though I'm being funny) I'm serious.

The Aussies I have come across that really like America tend to fantasize our country as an amazing land with people who live in Hollywood, drive Ford Mustangs, and protect the world from evil. My roommate Tony tends to fall in this category. He loves American cars, movies like Rambo, shows like Seinfeld, and listens to classic American rock. (Sometimes I get the feeling like I have not so much been allowed to live in the apartment as I sometimes feel I have been added to an Americana collection) From an American perspective, these types of Aussies are very flattering. I would love to think of America as the great country that stormed Normandy to free the world and landed on the moon to inspire a generation (as PM Gillard so eloquently puts it), but I suppose we can never see ourselves in such a flattering and glistening light.

The second type of Aussies also like America but tend to be a bit more cautious about our place in the world. You have to understand that to Australians America is still very much the superpower that it was during the Cold War, and still very much a center of culture and technology. In that respect, many Aussies are kind of paranoid of making us mad at them. A lot of politicians at the time of the Iraq war gave many rationales for Australia's involvement in the war, but one of the most prominent arguments was that: "If we do not help America, America will not help us if we need it," and many Australian's (to some degree or another) think like this. As for my own opinion, this seems pretty laughable as I can never imagine a scenario where we do not help Australia. China attacks Australia for their precious resource of desert sand, and America just watches and goes 'Well that sucks.' No it would never happen. Australia is an ally and a friend and I can never imagine a world where we do not have the 7th Fleet stationed off the coast of Sydney within days of the first attack, but some Aussies do not so readily believe this.

However, I do not want to paint the Australians as a people who fall all over themselves to please the Might Americans, there are plenty of dissenters (many of which protested against Iraq). However, I have found that even those protesters and dissenters tend to really like America. I met a very nice (crazy) Aussie who was actually so opposed to the America government that he owned a store that sold American counter-culture items, among them was many Confederate Flags and t-shirts proclaiming most well known slogans as "Make Love Not War," etc, and was continually playing Bob Dylan over the store's speakers. So really even by rejecting American culture and the American government he just embraced a different aspect of American culture. Moreover, when he found out I was American, he talked my ear off for 15 minutes about the first time he held a gun at a range in Louisiana.

The Australian and American relationship is a very funny one. Australians tend to really like Americans (even when they don't). Our country has so dominated culture and news for the past sixty years that we are almost inescapable. Obama is on the news as much as their own Prime Minster Julia Gillard, but they both get beat out by Charlie Sheen (who for some reason this country has a love affair with). Either way I enjoyed watching the Aussie PM's speech to congress, because at first I just thought she was just being overly gracious to those in Washington, but then I thought that she may actually believe most of the things she is saying. After all, her speech had a 53% approval rating in Australia and one of the most popular comics in Australia is Captain America. (Sometimes I wish we had much confidence in hope and possibility for ourselves as Australians seem to have in us)

A Wild Life of Wildlife

So my sister Rebecca is down to visit for a few weeks. I have been showing her around the city, gave her a look at the Great Ocean Road, but on Monday we did a guided trip to a place called Phillip's Island just off the coast of Melbourne. It was a very interesting trip as we not only walked some beautiful beaches, but encountered several uniquely Australian animals including, Kangaroos, Wallabies, Wombats, Koalas, and Penguins.

The trip started in the morning around 11 am as we were picked up on Collins Street in Melbourne where we were greeted by a very energetic Australian tour guide named Simon. We packed into the small 20 person van with a menagerie of tourists that included, Japanese, Chinese, British, Vulcans, and Germans. The day started with a light lunch of "Salad" sandwiches (which for the layman American means "lettuce.") Basically it is lettuce, tomato, cheese, and cucumber in a sub roll. It was (with most food in Australia) tasty and very much British, but after that little lunch break we were off to our next destination, the Mara Animal Park.

My favorite kangaroo. I call him Punchy.

Mara is a park where they rescue and raise orphaned animals. The animals are very used to humans and for a A$1 donation you can buy a tin of food and feed kangaroos, emus, goats, wallabies, etc. I must admit this was the highlight of the tour for me. Feeding kangaroos is pretty damn awesome. They literally hop right up to you and you have to do is lower the food and they take it right from your hand. Sometimes they will use their small little hands to hold onto your hand as they eat the seeds and grass from your palm. Each kangaroo had its own sort of personality. Some were pushy, some were timid, some were albino, but our favorite was the kangaroo we decided was probably drunk. I envied this guy as he had not a care in the world. He would lazily look up at you and take the food from your hand. He couldn't seem to focus on anything going on around him. When I ran out of food he just stood there and kept looking at me. I couldn't tell if thought I was going magically get more food or if was wondering if I had bottle of scotch on me (I'm not saying I didn't).

However, I can see how these animals can be so dangerous. Being up close to them you can see how powerful their tails and legs are. I watched them bounce along near us and they do it so effortless and jump so high. I haven't seen leg muscles like that since Lance Armstrong strangled that guy with his quadriceps. However, I also discovered their weakness. Apparently, kangaroos are suckers for being scratched under their chins. They are like my dog (well slightly smarter).

We saw many different type of animals include a parakeet which I think called me a name I would rather not repeat in this text. (It is amazing what tourists can teach these animals). After the animal park we walked several startlingly beautiful beaches including ANZAC beach where there are many many surfers. We also looked at Seal Island which has thousands of seals and saw a replica of a 15 foot great white which was caught off the coast of Philip's Island.

The night finished up with what is called the Philip's Island Penguin Parade. Each night at sundown the penguins return from spending all day at seas fishing. When crossing the beach to reach their nests they do so in large groups for safety and, of course, human beings have exploited the sh*t out this. As there are literally hundreds of penguins crossing the sands each night, the good people on Philip's Island had enough courtesy to build giant concrete stands and sell tickets to tourists who watch these little creatures in their daily struggle across the long beach of Philip's Island. I am, however, being cruel because the good people on Philip's Island really do a lot to protect the penguins and the other natural animals of the island. You are not allowed to take any pictures of the penguins as the flashes could permanently damage their eyesight. Long metal ramp ways have been built over the penguin colonies so tourists do not traipse through their homes, and they even close major roads from sundown to sun-up to protect the penguins, wallabies, and other animals that roam at night.

At one point (after the annoying and screaming group of children and their even louder and obnoxious parents finally left the stands) the penguins actually came right up to us and waddled clumsily around near where we sat. The penguins are very small and obviously not very equipped to walk in the sands and the divots created by human children whom an hour before were having sand fights and digging holes out of boredom. They waddled back and forth tripping more often than not while a hundred or so humans basically held their breath and tried not move so as not to disturb this small group of very uncoordinated aquatic birds. It was all beautiful and moving but the real excitement came when I tried Crocaroo Pizza.

Now I have made my stance on Australian Pizza clear, but with the Crocaroo Pizza the Aussies have so completely lost sight of the point of pizza that they can't even look back anymore and see the line they crossed. The pizza wasn't bad but confusing in many ways. The Aussies have made the pizza into a seven course meal in every slice. Among most of the things this pizza had on top of it was onions, tomato, corn, and a few types of meat. This meat (if you haven't guessed it) is Crocodile and Kangaroo. Croc meat is thin and white and tastes a bit like fish while Kangaroo meat is darker and tastes a bit like a lean steak. Surprisingly, I actually liked the meat. It was like a steak and fish pizza which seems a very novel (and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtlish), as long as you tried not to think too long and hard on what you were actually eating. Rebecca tried a piece and couldn't finish it due to such mental images. I had three pieces, and I can now say that I got to taste both croc and kangaroo.

Over all the day was exhausting but very good. We saw a lot and did a lot. And when you think about it the whole day really came full circle. Basically, I fed the kangaroos in the morning and at night they fed me.

Cracked Australia

So I was going to write a heart warming and hilarious entry today, but truthfully I got really sidetracked. My little sister, Rebecca, is flying out tomorrow to spend two weeks with me, and I have been planning some trips and activities for us to do, so expect to see a lot of tales of adventure and heroism soon.

However, it has been more than the impending arrival of my sister that has kept me from my blogging duties. As lately, I have found myself addicted to a website called Cracked.com, and its plethora of articles featuring lists such as Top 8 Real Photographs that Prove Hell Exists on Earth, or The 9 Manliest Names in the World. All of this thanks to a man I will keep nameless. (Let's just call him J. King... No that's too obvious, let's call him Jon K.) Hours have disappeared for me while browsing through this site. It's like eating peanuts at 5 Guys. You say your only going to have one, but it never works out that way.

So, because I am lazy, I want to give you a few of the interesting and weird fact I have found out from reading Cracked.com in relation to Australia. (Disclaimer: Cracked is not a PG website, and if you do choose to indulge be mentally prepared)


First fact comes from the list 6 Real People with Secret Identities No One Saw Coming:

Number 2 on the List is: Alfred Deakin

The public persona:
Imagine finding out that Glenn Beck's last book was entirely ghostwritten by Barack Obama. And that there was in fact no Glenn Beck -- the whole operation was just the president trashing himself in public for some bizarre reason.

Well, for years, an anonymous source posted scathing articles in the London newspaper The Morning Post, commenting on, among other things, the political scene in Australia and what an idiot the Australian prime minister was. This was back in the early 20th century, but just like now, people mainly read about politics so they could hear about how stupid politicians were. This source posted weekly for 11 years.

The secret identity:

The beard was fake.

The anonymous journalist dishing dirt on Australian politics was in fact the freaking prime minister of Australia. Alfred Deakin was the Australian prime minister from 1903 to 1910 and a Morning Post employee hired to basically write about himself. Shockingly, Deakin's editorials almost never included passages about the magnificent size and firmness of his manliness, and they were often extremely critical about the decisions (and personal hygiene, we assume) of the Australian PM, aka himself. And you think people on the Internet know how to troll?

For example, in 1905 he called himself "a bookish theorist recklessly pursuing impossible dreams." And in 1906, while on the PM campaign trail, he even accused himself of bullying his opponents. It all started in 1899, while he was still just representing Australia at the U.K. Parliament. The owner of The Morning Post offered him a job as a foreign correspondent. He agreed and continued writing one long report a week for 11 years, seriously risking his political career but wanting to keep the British Empire updated with what was happening in Australia beyond the massive swarms of poisonous animals. (And the teeming hordes of bunny rabbits.)

Incredibly, only a few people knew about this, including his editor, friends, family and ... the taxation official to whom Deakin declared every cent he made from ripping on his own policies. We guess he ... just needed the second paycheck?


The next fact comes from the list 5 Most Horrifying Attempts to Teach Sex Education to Children:

Number 4 on the list is (you guessed it): Condoman

Soon to be a feature film staring Wesley Snipes

Getting kids to listen is tough, ask any teacher at a school for the deaf. You really need to get in there and talk to them in terms they can understand. Often, adults take this as a license to say insincere and awkward things like "fo shizzle" or "I swear your father told me to pick you up."

Nowhere is the difficulty in appealing to children more apparent than in Australia where 90 percent of the adult population has to constantly be on the lookout for the 1,000 different animals that can kill you no matter where you are. The other 10 percent are working on projects like Condoman. Condoman is targeted directly at the condom fearing youth in the aboriginal community. Unwilling to force the kids to eat them just yet, the Department of Community Services and Health sat down and thought, "Damn, is anyone in this room sober?" The answer was a resounding no.

The result was Condoman. Standing proud like a Down Under, Gay Pride Flash, a vaguely disinterested sneer on his face, one hand clenched into a fist and a far away look in his eyes that seems to say, "the Great Lakes Avengers would be a better gig than this," Condoman wants you to not be ashamed of taking a box of condoms from a spandex-clad man on a beach. (That's perfectly normal.) Condoman was so beloved back in 1991, they had to resurrect him in 2009 with an updated campaign in which he hurls condoms like ninja stars at his unsuspecting victims, daring you to feel shame lest he pummel you with another latex barrage.


The last fact is found on the list 6 Strangest Ways Anyone Was Ever Mistaken for God:

Number 5 on the list is: Captain James Cook

Captain James Cook was the first European to set foot on the Australian continent, but when the sails and masts of the famed British explorer's ships were first spotted off Hawaii in 1778, one islander described them as "trees moving about on the sea." When Cook eventually checked out the islands himself on Jan. 16, 1779, he was greeted by thousands of Hawaiians in canoes, presenting lavish prizes. (Mainly surfboards.)

They weren't just being generous hosts; it turns out that those sails and masts on Cook's ships looked virtually identical to contemporaneous imagery of the Hawaiian god Lono. Lono is a sex god, and his job is to cruise around on a rainbow and sprinkle the world with ... you don't want to know. By arriving not only on a vessel that looked just like Lono, but also on the same day as his annual festival "Lonomania," Cook presumably responded with the loudest "Hey everybody, we're all gonna get laid!" this side of Caddyshack.
Thus the captain, tempted by the perks of being a sex-king, decided to go along with the charade by allowing himself to be smeared with pig fat, and then showing off some fireworks he happened to have in his boat.

Come visit beautiful Hawaii

Unfortunately for Cook, the Hawaiians were pretty ticked when he paid them a second visit, and not just because of the mounting list of paternity suits awaiting him. Cook's fleet had suffered a heavy battering during a wild storm, and the Hawaiian natives were deeply offended that Cook's ships had returned in such poor condition. Instead of pig fat and flower necklaces, the natives were waiting for him with clubs and daggers. Capt. Cook soon realized that his fertility feast-days were over. He tried to explain that it was due to the horrible weather he had recently experienced on his rainbow, but the islanders wouldn't have it. Cook was "clubbed, repeatedly knifed, half-drowned and battered about the head with a rock," at which point we imagine the islanders realized that the man was not a god after all. The fraud was subsequently scarified, torn to pieces, eaten and whatever they didn't finish was made into trophies.

The lesson? It is entirely possible to pretend to be a god, but just politely leave after your festival is over. It's not the sort of thing you can keep up forever.


Thus, ends my lazy post for this week. I promise to be back with more adventures and interesting tidbits from down under, but for now enjoy browsing Cracked.com. (Because you'll probably being doing it for the next several days, *evil laugh*)