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Quilted Robot
I remember reading about how Australians began to embrace investment after they were made to keep superannuation funds. And then every Australian seemed to become a real estate junkie. Now if they are reading anything at all they are every day becoming well-trained specialists in recognizing that opportunity that will change their lives. Technology, education, age management, management… never ending self-improvements.
I think that facebook is training us on how to make our friends into assets. Useful, useable, tradeable commercial assets. We are learning to think about them differently, to understand the rules governing successful management of friend assets, to understand the financial potential in them. One of the rules of Asset Management of Friends is: never lose one.
It seems to me that the next thing to be “assetted” will be love. Sex, sexual relationships, marriage, partnership. We are so good at learning now, we will be excellent students. But I doubt the Asset Management of Lovers will say “never lose one”. It is clearly financially beneficial to have a marriage system that allows you to move up and up through relationships, gathering assets. So we will need to learn how to do that properly, and our marriage system will need adjustment to make it work for us, rather than against us.
If you’ve ever read one of those motivational (self help for the “activity” disability) books you’ll probably remember all the categories that you need to do a little in at a time. Things like planning, relating to people, negotiation, investment, time management. Now take the time to read through The Age, or The Sydney Morning Herald. They seem to have reformed themselves into daily motivational trainers for us. Is that what we are, now? People whose single desire is to improve, in clearly recognisable steps? Like the steps in a flower arrangement school, each with its own certificate (TAFE approved, RPL available).
It’s curious. At the moment there’s an article about air travel. Get over it and get on with it, they say. Another view might be: actually you’ve been SOLD travel as one of the ultimate rewards for your endeavours. And often it’s not fun at all! It’s actually a time where you get even more marketed and under-rewarded than normal! In fact, it could be argued that it is neither attractive NOR desirable! It’s just that it’s such a great little money-maker, and for you, a great way to learn how to stick to a goal.
One time I deliberately took a bad holiday – planned it from beginning to end and stuck with it. Why would I do that? I think it’s because I’m a particularly good learner.
Did you ever notice that you used to have interest in the dumbest, most unsharable things? And now there’s an online shop for it. Chewing match heads. Go do your research.
Weirdly, it all looks much the same until you take a look in another country. Ebay, for example. Who are all these scammers, you think. And then, once you’ve got the picture, you see it all over the place, right here in your own place. Stop telling me about those match heads, you think. I just used to like them, that’s all. And now those scammers won’t let it go.
Yesterday I went to a Vinnies and they had a skirt there for $25. It was a lovely skirt. Can you make this a little cheaper, I said, because I’m unemployed. No. We can’t. Someone came out from out the back and said: oh, we had to put that price on there, it was brand new. Yes I understand that it was brand new. I can see it is such good quality. But I am unemployed. Can you make this a little cheaper? No. We can’t. We get this high price so we can run our charity programs for the poor. Yes, I can understand that you get the money to run programs to provide charity for the poor. But I am poor. And I am asking you for help by going into your charity shop and buying the clothes that you have received for nothing. And I am now not even able to be your customer. Only your client. I am too poor for a Vinnies shop.
Newspapers read more like the kind of newsletters you can subscribe to. Which is important, because that’s what their business plan is, to make little tailor made newsletters for each and every one of us. So if you’ve noticed that, you’re with the program.
I write about Vinnies, it is snatched upon by the Facebook Fairies (oh look! a Product!) there is a “Vinnies Vogue” story in my personalized AGE within a few minutes. Sadly, they do not recognize that I am too poor to shop at Vinnies. Perhaps this is the aspirational lesson plan.
I am a little sad about newspapers, reading them was one of my great passions. It was nice when they came on sheets of paper. If you got up to go to the toilet, the same story would be on the page when you came back. It’s those trivial things that we become nostalgic for.
And BOOM! A nostalgia section! Being sad is now flagged as a super-potential marketing opportunity. So my disappointment is of great interest. Perhaps having something interested in me will help that sadness anyway? My own personalized self-investment manager. I cannot lose. I am being supported by my personalized media, and my success is their profit. As a human success contributes to a healthy condition. So success is what I will have. See how helpful and loveable robots (a pretty name for technology) are?
Oddly, there have been some reversals in strategy. Arts Hub Australia used to refuse me their newsletter unless I subscribed. Now they send it to my email box, although we never agreed on such a relationship. They have come to learn that in the world of motivational newsletters, you have to be there to find a money-making opportunity. We will find that we have many such helpful friends now.
Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle 
How this story moves me to my core and was my life. Things have changed a teensy bit. I now live directly alongside a supermarket that has two trolleys and a tiered stand that vegetables we call ‘throw outs’ have been dumped in and stacked on for sale at throw-out discounted prices. I am skilled in assembling yummy survival tack. My shock at the cruel experience I had in the op shop on the first day I was in town endures but as the most shocking of any I have had since moving back to live in Australia. Skilled, qualified, practised, battle scarred in ‘community’, I stood helpless as items of necessity I had telephoned ahead I would be coming into the shop to buy that day when the train got in were bundled holus bolus off the trestle display tables directly in front of me, where I was standing in front of them to obviously make choices, the trestle tables collapsed by a brigade of volunteers totally ignoring me, responding to orders. Not knowing what was happening or what I was doing I stepped through a curtain and saw a stack of items. To test the water I picked up a cup and carried it through to ask its price. The price cited was ridiculous. I said surely it would be such-and-such the same as another alongside it that was marked. I heard the standard reply…redolent with justificatory rejection…about it being a something-or-other. I hadn’t immediately thought about that. I escaped the shop, cruel for other reasons as well I won’t explain now. I went back later and cried trying to explain myself, standing in the middle of the shop, where a woman with a nice face agreed to tell the other people there I was recovering from a debilitating illness and was in excruciating pain, not bad, mad, on drugs, dangerous, greedy, selfish particularly more than anybody, and always seek to pay my way. I was the one reduced and it wasn’t a reduction I asked for. Look, I said once, forgetting my place, leaning forward, showing a bottle opener I had bought, with a tiny local badge attached to it, isn’t that nice, have you seen what is on this, and the dry reply was instead of to me and my descent into a sense of safety, to the air of the shop, ‘O [my name], has one all over us’. That’s shocking.
Lehan, when I came back to Australia I never imagined I would be where I am today. Poor. Before leaving NZ I failed to get a position and was carrying a letter of rejection that explicitly revealed one other person was given the position over me; it was the die-for job. the well paid one, car, office, prestige, opportunities, exposure, experience, the never want again and do good unto others job, that I could tell immediately I could do as easily as falling off a log perhaps, great analogy that. Have I fallen or have I been pushed. Several times I have been almost back to that level, but one step higher and someone comes along who doesn’t like me while others adore me. It’s a personality battle. I have no distinguishing feature that is more important to me than my creativity, however, and my experience. And I am glad I have been available to many people who have done well out of me for my support of their intellectual capacity, drive, willingness to work, out of my enthusiasm. About your circumstance, however, I weep that you have such profound skills as a communicator, a philosopher, an artist, an anthropologist, social scientist, traveller, teacher, friend, companion and so on and, too, are so poor. I need to have a voice such as yours to elucidate that essence of being poor we can become tangled in and speechless. What a brilliant piece of writing, Lehan. Awesome.
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Shoe, thank you for that gift. “I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN”. That’s what I wanted and needed to hear! Not charity, but a listening ear. Then I am not poor but simply a struggling artist!
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Incidentally, Lehan, did you send this to the Drum?
They should publish it because it is a wide open window on to many misconceptions. The comments would come hard and fast.
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It would be a great counter point to Gina’s troubles!
http://www.abc.net.au/news/2012-02-02/gina-rinehart-loses-application-for-suspension-order/3808124?WT.svl=news1
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Yes, sadly I did, but no reply…
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The usual, wonderful thinking from you Lehan; and you present it with magnificent talent in words and colours.
Poverty?
Alas, there’s only one piece of advice that I can offer: Hang in there!
Other than that, Aristophanes has written a rather amusing but quite telling play on the matter, called “Wealth” (or Ploutos, in Greek.) Take a look at it. You’ll find it on my blog.
Again, hang in there. Fate can turn on the flick of a butterfly’s wing.
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I’ll read it next, atomou
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“Oh, all right, then! You can go in but when you do, go straight to the wash basin and wash some of the entrails –to show them you can do the job of an apprentice.”
lovely!
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“Too poor to shop at Vinnies…” You have my sympathy, Lehan… I know JUST how you feel!
😐
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Love your ‘Quilted Robot’ Lehan! Gonna read your story now…
😉
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A great article Lehan. We can all resonate somewhat, I’m sure.
Of course the paragraph about asseted love is true in certain parts of the world–even in Europe, in days of yore.
There was an Afghan mother & father found guilty of killing their daughters, by a Canadian Jury. All to do with their own silly tribal rules.
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Yes, I agree with you about assetted love Vectis Lad. It was quite a different arrangement for Marie Antoinette, for example. Much more of a business and security agreement between big families, even countries. And still is more like this in some countries today.
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I wish there could be an answer. I did some volunteer work for The Smith Family some years ago. For many it became a step-up to getting a paid job.
There are sometimes opportunities coming from strange quarters. I know a friend who does polling on line for a large company, I think it is Nielsen. You fill in lots of on-line questions stuff and you get paid in goods from on line stores.
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I had some resistence to doing volunteer work, this time. I was advised to go to the regional gallery and volunteer if I wanted an arts job, for example. What did that show my prospective employer, I wondered. That although I was asking for an arts management job, I was prepared to answer telephones and mop floors. And yes, perhaps that WAS the kind of thing they wanted to hear. It was never mentioned on their selection criteria, but perhaps it was. It was also what Centrelink wanted to hear. What job providers often wanted to hear. You could even use it to avoid even looking for a job. Still, for many people it’s an important part of being in a community. But for the government, it’s also a way of getting you off unemployment statistics. When did I become a pawn in this silly game. When I became poor. Which was from the very beginning, really, as I chose a profession (art) that were I to be successful, I would generally cease being an artist and become something else. Like a Manager. There is no money in being an artist (for most professionally trained artists). The wage for those who manage artists is also quite poor. The top of the profession you would assume to be something like a gallery chairperson. But they sell those, or give them away to successful business people.
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Lehan, when I was at uni, doing Ancient Greek, Modern Greek, Classics and every other subject I loved, I was suddenly struck with the fear that these did not lead to a particular occupation, an occupation that had these subjects as its prerequisites. A slight panic flooded me and I went to see one of my profs (George Gellie, RIP) to talk the matter over. In my hands I was holding my next assignment which was due that day but before I handed it to him I whined and whinged about “the point” of studying these subjects, since they’ll not assure me of some exalted, money making career. He sat there calmly and patiently. Obviously he had heard all this many times before from other students. Then he finally interrupted me, raised his eyebrows and asked me in words to the effect of, “George, you have to make a choice between studying for an occupation and studying what you love. If the former, go and knock on the door of Law or Accountancy or Medicine, if the former, then shut up and hand me your next assignment!”
I handed him the assignment, convinced that I had already, (three years earlier) knocked on the right door. Still am convinced of that.
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Oh dear Lehan, now I’m crying…
Now to cheer myself up, I want to talk about my successful Vinnie shopping. There is one in the neighbouring hamlet, and I dearly love that shop…I go there to buy books. They must be getting them from local bookshops as some are new,the price $30.00 or much more, still on the back page, they haven’t even been read and they cost me only $ 3.50 new, the seconhand ones are a dollar less
I’m not buying them because they are cheap but because they are books that I been looking for , I’m eager to find them ,and most of them are actually listed in my little book of lists….my wish list of books.
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PS. I’m sure some little boys would love The Quilted Robot on their bedroom wall 🙂
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(I am recycling my earlier paintings, but actually I left them behind in Japan. Only illustrations….)
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You are fortunate Helvi! They must have chosen to stay poor. Our Vinnies has chosen to be affluent.
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This area is very affluent, so people buy their books in bookshops at a full price, I think I’m the only one who is hunting for good books at a good price…I’m a treasure hunter.
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It just isn’t as cut and dried as that Lehan. It’s analogous to what happened to inner city Sydney. It’s the gentrification of Vinnies.
I remember ‘op shops’ from decades ago. Bought a few things myself as a student; I remember fondly a set of coloured sherry glasses, some black lace gloves and a hat. It was a mark of ‘artisticness’ and ‘fashion sense’ for students or unemployed to put together whole quirky but stylish outfits from op shops. Have dropped into the local Vinnies several times, particularly when in financial difficulty.
But that extended into the general community a long time ago. Garage sales are infested by professional antique dealers and others looking to on-sell. Second hand furniture shops buy cheaply at Vinnies. Some people volunteer purely so they can cull the best things up front. People who are more than capable of buying new clothes are shopping at Vinnies. Not only do you get a bargain, you can talk about “that little [insert designer name here] I picked up second hand” (because I am so discerning and so caring about the the environment). Vivienne said that even a barrister was buying good clothes from second hand shops.
On one hand, it’s good because Vinnies essentially acts as a recycling depot, the same as these fantastic Council pickups where you put stuff out on the curb and everyone trawls though it before it goes out to become rubbish. On the other hand, their raison d’être is helping people with little money. So if people with a fair bit of money are buying up their stuff, charging more than a pittance enables them to meet their charter. Ironically it pushes those people out of its shops, unless they want the stuff no-one else will touch.
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Voice, you are right, the ‘dealers’ now pick up the good stuff…here at least they are not interested in the books…
I remember a lovely little lady in a shop in Rozelle who used to keep the lovely silk dressing gowns and the Finnish coffee cups for me under the counter…
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It’s really interesting, there are a lot of different points of view to whether Vinnies should become expensive, and many of them are quite valid.
I think that it became an emotionally accentuated moment because it questioned not whether I was right or wrong in what I was saying,
but whether I had the right to speak out.
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And more importantly, even than my responsibility to speak out about something I believed in.
Was the responsibility that Vinnies had to LISTEN.
Not necessarily to act. But to LISTEN.
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Vinnies didn’t have a responsibility to listen. Their people in the shop did. Those people are volunteers by the way.
People volunteer for a variety of reasons. Ranging from – To help their community and ‘do their bit’. To look good on their resumé. To get out of the house and meet people. To be in a position to cull the best stuff for themselves or their friends and contacts. To accumulate sanctimony points (like the Ladies Aid Society in the Pollyanna story). Being a volunteer doesn’t make people wise or even nice.
Vinnies could have a formalised means-based dual-price policy but administration would be a nightmare. Perhaps they could give people a bit of basic training in humanity. Consider people’s stories, and err on the side of kindness, even if it means that sometimes you get conned.
Might I say controversially that it’s a cultural thing. In France it’s common for petty officials and such like to bend the rules. You ‘tell your story’ without belligerence and things may happen. The downside is – watch out if they’ve just broken up with their girl/boyfriend, or if they take a superficial dislike.
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Yes.
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Sorry ‘shoe. I know your yes was meant to be for Lehan’s comment just above. 🙂
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Volunteer at Vinnies. Seriously. Think about why some people do it. They get in a fair bit of reasonable stuff in some areas.
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I seem to be seriously lacking in the skill of simply making the most of things. I am wondering where you learn that. But perhaps it will be in My Personalized Age Online tomorrow.
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Simply making the most of crappy things is seriously hard and bloody awful and no-one should be expected to do it or expect themselves to do it. You just do the best you can on the day and are grateful for the days when that’s good.
Hang in there with the job searching. You have experience and a resumé and brains and that will eventually count. It sucks getting repeatedly rejected but it’s not a personal rejection.
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Sell your art. It’s good enough.
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Do some cartoons. You must be able to do better than all of the Pickering spam that I get in my inbox.
I can just see your depictions of pollies and celebs, incorporated with a salient message.
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Do a couple for us and we’ll judge them in order of merit.
We’ll have a whip round and you can get blotto at the bar!
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Assange would make a great cartoon subject.
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Well done for pointing out the points of law on Pilger’s blog.BTW
Yes, I can see it now, Assange with his Warhol hair, throwing a condom out the window, with an A4 Sheet, saying …”I do solemnly and sincerely and truly declare and affirm that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
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Ewwwwww. I prefer NOT to imagine that, if you don’t mind!
Those peculiar nutters at The Drum deleted the points of law. They were just quotes from the British High Court ruling on Assange’s extradition appeal, as I said. Just About Everything is on The Web. I don’t know why people don’t just look up the source. Potential nonsense isn’t that difficult to recognise. Mostly it only takes 10 minutes to check.
Pilger was truly great 30 or 40 years ago IMO but maybe he’s been hung on the petard of his own success. His analyses all those years ago were so great they’ve become part of the ideas furniture and his glory days are better honoured by retiring or moving on to new ideas. Rather than trying to continue living the glory days by constantly ‘rediscovering’ or ‘re-uncovering’ the same thing as if it was breaking news.
To the point where he’s lost the plot. How could he get such a basic fact wrong as whether the alleged sexual misconduct was a crime in Britain? Wishful thinking.
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Too Poor For Vinnies (a sub-story)
So funny for me, that Vinnies story. You see, I went away and found myself crying. How stupid, to cry over such an unimportant thing. But it’s true, I am poor. I am poor, and Vinnies is no longer a place where poor people go for help. Not the kind of help of paying your own way by finding cheap things for your life. Vinnies likes the big corporate kind of help, where they make bigger business out of free things. Market prices, it’s called. And then they can give you not help, but charity.
So I went back to try to explain that to them. How humiliating again! To walk in crying and to attempt to speak to them about what was really a higher, more philosophical issue than they were prepared to deal with, in their little Vinnies shop where they made the rules. To know that they would not “get it” but to say it anyway.
And, to be honest, foolishly I am still crying about it. I came back to my country after twenty years and the best I could achieve, with all my efforts, was to be poor. Poor in a system that I regularly felt uncomfortable in. That paid out a lot of money to outsource me.
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The whole point about giving you charity rather than help, Lehan, is that charity maintains you not only in a state of dependence, but also on the lower rung of a hierarchical relationship: the ‘giver’ of charity having greater status than the ‘receivers’ of charity.
Moreover, actually helping people might run the risk of them achieving actual independence and some level of (gasp!) equality. Can’t have that!
No… charity has little or nothing to do with helping the poor; it’s more about underlining the status of the wealthy… Still… in the absence of a truly civilized society which would make charity as unnecessary as the police force it would no longer need too, I suppose charity is still an admirable notion… but it remains questionable, as to who it really helps.
😐
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Yes that’s exactly what I was thinking, Asty; thankyou for putting it in those words. That’s what I am trying to put into simple, practical words that can apply to these clothes that I am holding in my hand, as I am standing in the Vinnies shop trying not to cry. And then later as I have had time to think but am unfortunately crying. But there were no magic words because what I was talking about and what they were talking about were not the same. And yet the same. But not it seemed, able to fit together into the same conversation.
I once gave a paper at a conference that I organized with a scientist, in Germany. I gave a paper that was not academic, that was not written in a scientific way. I was a little embarrassed, but the scientist said: we (you and us) are talking about the same thing. But it is so rare to find a way in which philosophical points and practical points can be discussed at the same time. I realized that in Vinnies.
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asty, I am with Lehan that your phrasing of the problem is very helpful, your analysis and explanation. Thank you.
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