Public Address - Club Politique (Home)

Macheesemo | Jan 19, 2006 20:44

And she's telling the truth, she did attempt to hold her tongue about my cracker-cooking. One email did slip through though, and the indignation was well evident.

In my own defence all I can say is that the recipe for a curry was something drafted so that any damn fool with a frying pan could turn out a respectable dinner for 'da missus'. And by all accounts it seems to have worked well, a few recommendations came in, and a few ideas were swapped.

Which is a little not-so-masculine really.

Truth be told, when I make that recipe myself I like to have made the curry paste from scratch. You know, tamarind paste, shrimp paste, lemongrass, whole chilli, the whole kit and kaboodle. But trying to convince some of the guys that cooking isn't just something 'for chicks' is always a battle at the best of times.

This all naturally leads to the stereotype that guys can't cook, which is patent bullshit, or that only women should cook, which can be a risk to health. Plenty of people can't cook, and it's my humble opinion that they're the worse for it. Fact is, cooking is a social thing. You cook for people because it's good for everyone. There's nothing more satisfying than getting a big feed together and sharing it.

Ah well. I suppose some people feel the same way about any number of hobbies.

There is one thing I've been pondering for a fair while now though, and have tried talking it over with a few people. The thing about cooking is that sometimes the types of guys who consider it women's work stand out as a bit backwards. Not only do they realise that cooking has also long been the preserve of men, but they seem to not understand why it is that the missus puts on a feed for you every night.

The first time I really thought about 'cooking' was not long after I left home. As it was my brothers and I were made to cook dinner every few days; first because it was a job around the house (and was worlds better than cleaning the dunny), and second because it just isn't a bad skill to learn. But even then I left home with very little knowledge about the hows and the whys. I pretty soon realised that if I ever wanted a decent meal again I had three options. Buy it. Get a wife to do it for me. Or go home and have Mum do it.

None of these things were sustainable or suitable options.

Of the three, subcontracting the job to 'the missus' is of course the most likely to succeed long-term. But I wanted to kind of get on with my life, you know? An Eve to my Adam would doubtless lead to that dreaded inevitability, rugrats. You can't maintain a hard-core rock and roll lifestyle with kids around. Well, you can, but the instruction booklets say it's not advisable.

Where I'm going with this is my later realisation about my grandparents generation. Whereas among my parents generation cooking in men is merely uncommon, among the next level up it's positively rare. But what I noticed is that this is for a fairly decent reason.

Back in the day, my grandparents made a bargain. The grandmother would cook, clean, and look after the mini-mes, while the grandfather would be a breadwinner. And it was hard yakka on both fronts.

These days thing seem to have changed though, with feminism and whatnot breaking down those old stereotypes the bargain has been shattered, women and men swap roles frequently and easily and no-one really kicks up a fuss. New Zealand is, it seems, nice and liberal in that regard.

I think I've noticed another kind of way the bargain has been shattered, and that's the one where feminism has kind of half-backfired. What I mean by that is that a woman may well be liberated, making her own cash, but still be expected to tow the line on the domestic duties.

It's a strange one, because you can have a couple both working, but the missus is still required to be the one who does the domestic bullshit. And frankly that seems to be a bit of a stink way to end up. The bargain was a good thing if you ignore all that man-owns-woman crap, and could still work in this day and age if it's made explicit who plays which role.

I mean, it is fair. If one partner is expected to maintain the house, the other one should be willing to part with their cash to cover the costs. Which gender taking on the role of domestic servant is really up to the couple, the important thing being that unless you're willing to fork out to cover costs, you'd better put on that damn pinny and get into the kitchen.

And the lesson to be gleaned from all this is that if you expect something for nothing, you're leaning towards being a bit of an asshole.

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Big Blue Planet | Jan 16, 2006 20:38

Well, it must be slow season here in the news, because there has been waaaay too much Whale coverage on TV of late. And it's starting to kind of get on my [nerves].

This is because, and I'm willing to put money on the fact that I'm well in the minority on this one, when 50-odd Pilot Whales turn up on a beach somewhere, you know what I think?

Lunch.

Seriously. I have this disturbing urge to eat a large marine mammal.

And why? Because I bet those suckers are really, really tasty. How could they not be, living on a diet of Omega-Three enriched fish? And probably barbequed. A salad of rocquette and chargrilled artichokes, with a nice vinaigrette. I'm guessing it's a meat much like Marlin or Tuna.

So sticking with my mission statement of only eating local produce and non-processed product, if flipper washes up out from of the bach? Then we're making casserole with the tough bits.

Of course, you can't really go advocating scaring the piss out of cetaceans with light explosives to encourage that transition from majestic wildlife to 'target-for-toothpick', but if accidents happen, then hey, let's make the most of it.

There's nothing like devouring a graceful, svelte animal to really reinforce your place at the top of the food chain.

I mean, cattle? They drool, they've constantly got snot hanging out their noses, they hose crap on you if you aren't nimble, and they frickin' stink. Sheep? They're the village idiot of the domestic market, they also stink, they can't take a dump without soiling themselves, and only exist because we farm them. Chickens? They are plucky, evil little bastards with beady eyes and nasty beaks. Take a close look at one, they're like the Osama Bin Ladens of the avian world.

But have you ever seen a Pilot Whale half-covered in it's own poo? I think not.

And god people love the damn things. Show the people footage of half a dozen of the creatures that were stupid enough to take on walk on dry land and you've got the nation in tears.

Me? "Whoa there flipper! No legs! Remember?"

Worse, you have some dodgy Japanese trying to butcher a few other types of cetacean and you have people making idiotic demands like boycotting Sealord.

People, if you took the time to stop and examine many of the products you consume on a daily basis you'd find pretty much every major company is poisoning, robbing, plundering, exploiting, murdering, lying, undermining and overstating its way to constant profitability. Many of the companies you buy things from without thinking are actively taking part in poisoning the entire world, not just turning a bit of blubber into yakitori.

Think about that next time you fuel up the 4x4.

However, we can't all be to blame for the world's woes. Certainly many of us aren't conscious enough about where our stuff comes from to make informed choices about what we do and don't buy. So we need people like Greenpeace to take an interest in those important things, publicise bad behaviour etc.

I haven't got a problem with greenies per say. I follow green principles like forgoing excessive consumption, conscious purchasing, producing minimal waste, taking the low-energy option, public transport, etc etc. But that said, some greenies are just so fucking sanctimonious.

And it's not all greenies. No, it's the one's who treat the rest of us like idiots because we haven't acquired the same self-referential 'cool' status they have. You know, the ones you get to ask, "nice leather shoes, where are they from? Oh, they aren't leather? Nice petrochemical shoes then."

Worse are the upper-middle class bandwagon-jumpers. The ones who buy toilet paper made from recycled material, but buy food or wines imported from the other side of the world. The ones who will probably buy a Prius to drive to work in, when they could just live within walking distance? You're still over-consuming people...

Ah well. Deep breath... Speaking of which, I saw at least three very large octopi whilst diving this past Sunday. Cute. Scarey, but cute. And also tasty. We let them live this time.

Good old Wellington. Must be the easy city to be green in I know.

So in that regard, let me recommend a few people you need to introduce yourself to.

If you need to now what's going on round town, then you need to meet two blogs. Wellingtonista, and Well Urban

Then, if you're into New Zealand made cinema, get along to the Film Archive. Last week we saw End of the Golden Weather for the wallet-shattering price of $8. This Wednesday is another classic, Sleeping Dogs.

And finally there's the baristas at Peoples Coffee. Damn these guys can talk a lot of crap about the old caffeine delivery vehicle. So much crema, it was like coffee porn. It's good enough to send Mr. Brown into a three blog epistle... ("ahem" he says, not wanting to bite the hand that feeds, nor our Auckland-based sponsors).

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