Love in the Time of Coalition

Once upon a time, the world fell in love with two men for very different reasons. And I'm not just talking about the electorate, because clearly the Tory/Lib-Dem government is just as symbolic of deep division as it is of unity. This said, hearts have been set aflutter in burroughs, of a sort, across the Internet. Whether or not the Clegg and Cameron duo that the fandom are 'shipping' are anything like the real deal is yet to be seen.

Since the election the UK media has been having a field day with the whole situation, the moment talks were announced journos were bandying about innuendo and words like 'wooing' comparing Labour and the Tories to suitors, as though building a government had turned into some sort of Pride and Prejudice-esque parlour drama.

Of course, if we're following that route, then Clegg is Lizzy, Brown is Wickham and Cameron is Darcy. For a moment, we think that Lizzy might chose the idealistic, poorer candidate. Then, of course, true colours are revealed and she marries the posh one because she'll get to be the mistress of Pemberly and run things when Darcy's away.

But I digress.

For the uninitiated the idea of fan fiction seems somewhat akin to stalking, or at least a close cousin of defamation. If you haven't heard of it, the principle is pretty simple. Fans of books, films or even real life figures write graphic short stories, poems, or 'one-shots' (first person or short vignettes) about their heroes. To be honest, a lot of the time it's just sex. Puzzling, I know. Why do groups of largely heterosexual women queue up to write about and discuss the idea of Cameron and Clegg being gay for each other (and of course for Britain)?

On its most base level it's a direct counter to the fixation on girl-on-girl porn, albeit of a more cerebral nature. In fact, one of the most striking attributes of fan-written Clameron-fic (in comparison to the majority of sexual material in the marketplace) is that it's generally well written and mixes tax reform with pants action. I know, these observations are valid enough but the question that begs to be asked and answered is WHY WHY WHY? It just seems so WRONG.

Perhaps, yes. The idea of a newly-elected Conservative Prime Minister playing footsie with his liberal deputy may seem crass or even incredibly offensive when taken in the context of the real world and the reputation of these men as husbands, fathers and politicians. However, I would argue that it is the contrasting dynamic between Clegg and Cameron's personalities that has the Guardian and other respected publications making throw-away references to 'commitment issues' and the like.

Call it what you will but as far as I'm concerned it's just good casting: One is Oxford, the other Cambridge. One with any number of royal connections, the other a hardy blend of immigrant stock. On every single layer this pairing plays to a classic star-crossed lovers literary archetype. The key difference in this case is that it's real, and they have to make this relationship work or the country will suffer. The odd couple move into Number 10, if you will.

It's this fertile backdrop that makes for some terrific writing. The majority of it has to be hosted on communities and journals with Livejournal.com as major sites like fanfiction.net will not accept real life pairings. It would be foolhardy, however, to think that the authors of this work honestly believe in the sexual pairings in a real-world sense. They see it for what it is, a once in a lifetime opportunity for satire, smut and common-garden variety fun. Sometimes, people come up with stories out of thin air, other times a series of exchanges will lead to a request. Boris Johnson, Peter Bone and Vince Cable all make cameos, and many an alternate future is speculated upon; some of the best of which include the odd Zombie apocalypse.

So to conclude, I leave you with an amusing request example from an anonymous, unnamed Clameron fic site, and the message that they're not mad, they just know great characterisation when they see it.

LET'S GET INTERNATIONAL UP IN HERE Clegg/Sarkozy - Nick has to use all his multilingual talents and knack for diplomacy in dealing with Nicolas Sarkozy's epic Napoleon complex. Bonus points if somewhere else Cameron is desperately trying to keep Sylvio Berlusconi off his wife/Theresa May/the entire Cabinet. (Reply to this) (Thread)

	Anonymous) 2010-05-17 06:57 am
	I would so love to write this ... but I don't think I can. I hate Sarkozy with a visceral hatred that is far worse than anything I feel for any British politician (even climate-change denying bone-headed freaks). He tried to throw us (Corsica) out of France (probably because he hated the Napoléon comparison). Clegg and Sarkozy? Just no. Gideon and Sarkozy? May be possible.

What do you believe in?

I believe in Chicken. The universe has dropped a number of things at my door this week and it got me to thinking about how we express these beliefs. I had two friends in high school who were quite devout Christians, one of whom preached the faith and another who didn't. I remember going into a lit class and making a comment about the preachy friend when the non-preacher rather surprisingly cut in very sharply "I don't need to tell people what a good Christian I am, I show them."

Of course the idea of leading by example isn't new, but everyone is incredibly busy and the honest truth is you probably don't think to show your friends and even your family what you believe in, and how it effects who you are.

Most of my friends probably have no idea that I've undergone a dramatic amount of change on the culinary front. When I was a student, my approach to food was the same as everyone else. I ate everything I could get my poor hands on; book launch canapés when sneakily eaten in large amounts make a tasty dinner. The free wine helps, too. I was also an insane slave to cafe culture who spent inappropriate amounts of cash on eating out.

Now, things couldn't be more different. Even though I have much less money (I had no idea that could be possible). I've discovered that knowing where my food comes from and that the animal and the farmer are not being shafted by my dinner choice is incredibly satisfying, and not just in a smug-organic-wanker way. It's more about re-jigging the supply chain. We all know that going out for steak is a delicious treat, what we don't know when we hand over our cash to a restauranter is the overheads, the quality of the produce they can afford and so-on.

After working in hospitality as a kitchen-hand, I can tell you that usually the meat is the cheapest they can get, and is generally a product of industrial farming. Sometimes, it's not even the meat they say it is. At my former workplace, for example, the lamb in our Korma was beef and spices were used to make it seem a bit more 'lamb-like'.

So I eat a lot more vegetarian food when I'm out, which is harder in Brisbane than it would have been in Sydney, but still well worth the effort.

I've also realised just how much we undervalue food. When considering environmental factors, this will have to change over the course of the next century. We eat too much meat and too much sugar and it's too easy to get. We've got to redress the balance in our diets, and think about what we put in our mouths. I never thought of myself as spoiled, but I now realise how much information growing up on a farm shoves in your head.

So, to conclude, in the spirit of sharing beliefs and changing the world for the better, I give you a little list. You don't have to agree with what's on it, but by having a skim maybe you'll find out something that could be impactful.

A few things to learn and do:

• Chances are you are in the top 10 percent of the world's earners (check Global Rich List). So your excuses for looking after your fellow creatures are pretty slim. Even if it means cutting down your meat meals to buy ethical, chances are it will taste amazing and make you look forward to eating meat more. Also, by cutting back your weekly meat serves, you'll do the environment a favour.
  
• Michael Pollan is a smart and useful sage when it comes to being an omnivore in the 21st century. He did an amazing talk, which was screened on ABC1's Big Ideas. Watch it!
  
• Learn how to roast a chicken. You will have at least three great meals for two people: Roast, Chicken Breast for salads, and a meaty carcass for soup and stock.
  
• Cooking is not hard. Being afraid of cooking is like being afraid of breathing - it's a natural thing, and you have to eat every day for the rest of your life. Jamie Oliver has the right idea.
• Lastly, to really appreciate how amazing it is that there are so many great things for us to eat, grow something! Even if it's a single carrot or radish, in a little pot, this will absolutely change how you think about all of the time and effort and water that goes into your being well nourished.

Happy Eating!! No, really. Happy eating.

Dr. Splendour, or, how I learnt to love saying no.

As is the custom for psuedo-hipsters of my demographic, I rolled out of bed this morning wondering how many nanoseconds it would take for all of the tickets to Splendour in the Grass to snapped up by scalpers. I didn't really think I wanted to go, nay my financial situation rendered it impossible. So I slept in. But I wandered over to the computer at 11:20-something to have a little gander.

To my delight, I stumbled upon a small cash windfall so I jumped in the queue, mainly to prove to myself that I could get tickets if I wanted to. The part I didn't anticipate was that I actually did get through, despite forgetting my moshtix password (it's not really the sort of thing you memorise, like your bank details or your anticipated death date) I made it to the final payment screen. I had the time in the queue to think it over, and then I stopped. And then I looked at the line-up again. And then I closed the window, turned off my monitor and had a shower.

I got on my bicycle, rode to the local monsterplex and splished 70 dollars on seeds, pots, manure and a watering can at the good old mart-of-K, then splashed on enough Ella Baché to last through winter and spring. I planted cress, French radishes, and baby beetroot for salads. There was a profoundly simple feeling of satisfaction from choosing long-term wellbeing over three days of beer-soaked t-shirts and muddy shoes.

I can imagine those of you who missed out sharpening your best carving knife and sizing up my various parts for abandoning the cause (symbolised ironically enough by a sweat-shop sneaker).

I'm sorry. Sometimes saying no to poverty, even at the expense of that most sublime addiction, live music, has a reward. In this case, it's knowing that I'm not defined by my attendance; I don't need to renew my membership to any clubs and the reality is that I'm just not that fussed on the artists for the price. I think I want to use the rest of the money I would have spent going to gigs in Brisbane and getting to know some new talent. Time to find a new dealer.