Skepticism is good.

Strike that, skepticism is great. I am a skeptic of everything I consume. I accept nothing at face value, and as a result I am utterly perplexed by the current crop of climate change skeptics denialists and their absurd misappropriation of the evidence.

Now, in case you haven’t guessed, I am no climate scientist. And neither are you. And when you aren’t an expert you ought to trust those who do know what they are talking about - right?

Not the skeptics denialists. They call it an “appeal to authority”, which is fair enough. The authority could be corrupt, or just plain wrong. This is where the rot sets in, because the skeptics denialists don’t take into account that man-made global warming is a scientific consensus, despite what certain barrow-pushers claim. It is the consensus of thousands of climate scientists worldwide.

Some scientists disagree, sure.

I, for one, think that is terrific, because isn’t that what science is all about?

Instead the scientific community is treated, by certain individuals with dubious motives, as involved in some kind of bizarre conspiracy, deliberately toiling to mislead the public.

A great example of this comes from Tim Blair, who claimed on Q&A during his failed performance that “we need to separate science from scientists”, but, presumably, not including the ones who follow his pre-conceived idealogical lines, because both Tim Blair and Andrew Bolt make numerous appeals to authority of their own.

People who don’t follow Andrew Bolt’s pied piper routine are cast as “followers of the Green faith”. In fact, I consider denialism to be the faith. It is too similar to creationism to be ignored.

Climate change skeptics denialists…

1) …ignore/misrepresent science that doesn’t fit in with their theory. A great example of this is Andrew Bolt’s peddling of the infamous 1998 graph - even the slightest bit of research will tell you that the graph is deliberately misleading, yet Bolt continues to parade it as “proof”. Andrew Bolt knows how dubious this evidence is, but his job isn’t to actually disprove global warming - he’ll leave that other people - but instead to poke holes in the evidence. If he can get even a kernel of doubt into people’s minds, he’s done his job.

But the great thing about science is that bad science is disproved by scientists, not by agenda driven bums like Bolt. If global warming can be disproved scientifically - and I pray it will - then it will be done by the scientists. Instead, the evidence for global warming continues to get stronger, and evidence against continues to grow weaker (much like the way the evidence in support of evolution continues to strengthen).

Another great example is the Great Global Warming Swindle. The film is riddled with numerous deficiencies, inaccuracies and falsifications (including invented graphs), but that doesn’t matter to the climate change skeptics denialists who continue to cling to it because its central hypothesis agrees with theirs.

I, on the other hand, don’t pay any attention to documentaries that are so flagrantly inaccurate - even the ones which have a central hypothesis that I agree with. That kind of idiocy has no place in public debate - except as a model of what not to do - because it doesn’t do anyone any favours. TGGWS completely discredited itself, but like Bolt’s writing, its job wasn’t to be accurate. It was to create doubt in people’s minds.

What kind of method is that?

2) …exhibit blind faith. Andrew Bolt’s many followers have shown absolutely no ability to think for themselves. They’ve decided that God created the world in seven days global warming is false, because God Andrew Bolt tells them. And when asked for the evidence, they all turn to the Bible same old rubbish that he is writing. And can’t come up with anything new. Reading Andrew Bolt’s comments section today was to re-read everything he has ever written on the subject of global warming. It’s astounding that people continue to parrot what he writes, even the stuff that has been soundly discredited (for example, the aforementioned 1998 graph).

3) …attempt to discredit scientists. This is a big one, because it is exactly what the creationists try to do. Is it any surprise that it is the scientists standing in the way of mainstream acceptance of what they both believe in? So how do they combat this? By trying to discredit scientists, of course. Over a hundred years since Darwin’s death, the creationists are still doing their darndest to discredit him.

Now, there are many other similarities but I don’t have the time to list them all here. Perhaps you could suggest some in the comments?

So, I am posing some questions to skeptics out there, assuming they are going to bother posting here.

1. Why are you a “skeptic”?

2. Do you agree with Andrew Bolt’s tactics, which I’ve outlined at length above?

3. Do you understand how big oil is actively muddying the debate? Do you agree with these kinds of tactics, and do you think you can get fairer information from oil lobbies than non-partisan scientists?

4. What evidence, if any, would it actually take for you to accept that global warming is man-made? Or are you like AWH, and don’t accept anything because the “leftists” do?

To reiterate, I completely support skepticism, and I think it is healthy, and important. But when does skepticism become denialism?

And why have I written this?

Because I’d like to see if deniers are able to present strong, non-partisan, rhetoric-free reasons for why they believe what they do.

Why do I believe the scientists? Because they present a strong case for man-made global warming, while the denialists continue to present the same shoddy graphs, rhetoric, muddying techniques, conspiracy theories and partisan rubbish. I wish to God that GW was all a myth but, alas, on the whole I’m afraid the evidence points directly to it.

Answer away, and I’m back to ten word posts tomorrow. Promise.

GrodsCorp has long been a fan of Youth and Sports Minister Kate Ellis, so we were this morning incensed to read a gutless attack on Ms Ellis by opposition sports spokesman Pat Farmer.

The (dis)honourable member for Macarthur has branded Our Kate an “L plate minister” and claims that her hosting a Commonwealth sports ministers’ meeting in Beijing is “just embarrassing.” He goes on to accuse Ellis and Labor of being bereft of policy ideas, while putting forward absolutely none of his own, before suggesting that Kate will be taking a whiteboard to the meeting in the place of policies.

Here is Pat Farmer’s party leader (sic) formulating infinitely more important policy than sport last week.

In the party room… some backbenchers were angry that no written policy was presented to the meeting — which then proceeded to draft one. Mr Hunt and Ms Bishop wrote on a whiteboard as Dr Nelson dictated.

But let’s go back to Pat’s claims that Kate Ellis is an “L plate minister” and an embarrassment. I simply have two points to make.

1) Pat Farmer has only been in Parliament for three years longer than Kate Ellis. He has held no higher position than Parliamentary Secretary.

2) Here is Pat’s official MySpace profile picture.

What. A. Wanker.

‘Nuff said.

Film rating: 3/5 (The Editor); 1.5/5 (John Surname)
Walkouts: 2/5
Pretentious clapping at credits: 0/5
BPM sighting: No

Love hurts - even when you’re over 60.

Sixty-something seamstress Inge is thrown into a torrid love affair after bringing a pair of pants she altered to their owner, the affable 76-year-old Karl. The problem is she’s still in love with her husband of 30 years, Werner, a man whose greatest hobby is listening to recordings of locomotives in the evenings.

With the unbridled passion of 20-year-olds, Inge and Karl’s explicit trysts cause a rift in Inge’s marriage, forcing her to choose between her life-long love and a new infatuation.

The Editor says: The opening scene of Cloud Nine was rather confronting. I mean, watching wrinkly 70-year-olds do the dirty in all its explicit glory is not exactly what I expect to see at 7pm in the evening just after dinner. Unfortunately, the film went all generic and cliched after that — it was a bog standard love affair storyline with old actors instead of young. If the projectionist had stopped the film after twenty minutes and asked me to write the rest of the film’s plot I would’ve got it 95% correct. And the ending was terrible. Just terrible. So utterly cliched and predictable that I was a bit angry when the credits rolled.

It was probably more a two star film but I gave it an extra star because it did manage to get me thinking about the nature of love and lust in humans’ autumn years.

(*shudders*)

John Surname says: The Editor invited me out on a date to go and see a moving picture show, at the moving picture show festival. Being one for a pleasant night of debauchery, I put on my finest pair of trousers and joined him at The Forum to see a German film called Cloud 9.

The film opened with a graphic scene of a man and a woman “making babies”, which is fine, except he was 76 and she was well past 60. The cinema was filled with nervous giggles, except from The Editor, who was breathing very hard and concentrating enormously, and myself, for I am not that immature.

After the film ended, The Editor noted that if you’d been asked to guess the plot of the film after the first ten minutes you would have gotten it 95% right. There were no surprises. The film involved some pretty photography, masses of convulsing wrinkles, and not much else. There was little, to no, subtext, and many lingering images that did not end.

In the end the film had almost no resonance, which is why, as I type this, I can barely remember it.

One and a half stars, Margaret.

The Editor is going to bust my balls for not writing something longer than 500 words, but we’re not all teachers, and we don’t have the time to sit around all day blogging.

Today, I bring you “How to get raped by a Mexican“, by Michael Cooper, an associate of the website A Western Heart.

In his informative article, he advises us that:

“The first thing to keep in mind is not to feel guilty. By now, at least 96% of the entire U.S. female population has been raped by a Mexican at one point in their lives. So there’s no need to feel ashamed or alone. After all, if you’re a woman (or young toddler) who prides herself on her “open minded cultural diversity” you probably already know that rape is part of the Mexican culture, and to decry it would only make you judgemental.”

Absolutely.

“[A]s sushi is a staple of Japanese culture, rape (and gang rape) is at the core of Mexican culture. Try to remeber this as you grit your teeth while lying on your back on a pile of broken glass.”

That’s, like, OMG, the most hysterical thing I’ve read. Or not.

Sadly, from glancing at the rest of Mr. Cooper’s site, he comes across as yet another low-income white man who bitches aimlessly because of the Lefty scum keeping him down.

Poor guy. He works hard, yet he has nothing. Votes Republican, yet his country is full of Mexicans who are better off than him. Why? It must be the stinkin’ pussy-footed liberals!

It’s hard to believe that some people actually think like this, but it’s okay because it’s satire.

For actual satire click here, or here.

(From ‘The Age’ Online)

Um, no thanks.

UPDATE: Is that hypercolour t-shirt in the front row being worn by a dude or a chick?

Guest review by Craig

Film rating: N/A
Walkouts: 2 people (Craig and The Editor)
Pretentious clapping at credits: N/A
BPM sighting: WTF?

Living alone with his mother in a wintry and miserable Stockholm suburb, shy and lonely 12-year-old Oskar is a victim of school bullies. He spends his days plotting revenge, keeping a knife under his pillow and a scrapbook full of paper cuttings of heinous crimes. When a strange little girl named Eli moves in next-door, Oskar and her gradually become friends. But a series of ritual killings in the neighbourhood lead Oskar to suspect that there is something terribly wrong about his new neighbour…

Adapted for the screen by John Lindqvist from his own award-winning novel, Let the Right One In is an original, atmospheric and intelligent twist on the vampire horror genre.

I can describe Let the Right One In in just 2 words: disturbingly realistic.

We arrived early. I had to queue up with the plebs, while the pretentious Editor walked right on in and saved a couple of seats for us. This film’s opening scenes were shocking, with a score the just screamed horror at me. I should have left right away, however, seeing that The Editor had pre-purchased the ticket for me and saved a seat I thought I had better stick it out.

The film centres around a 12 year old Swedish boy who sleeps with a knife under his bed, is bullied at school, and has a very suspicious neighbour. The turning point in this film for me was very early on. In just the second scene the plot spirals down to the dark murky waters of ritualistic murder and serial killing with the first victim strung up from the branch of a tree by his feet like a piñata and promptly drained of his life sap. Cut from the neck like an animal, the blood ran over the curves that made up the face of the victim before running into a dirty drum with the help of a funnel.

It was at this point that I could take no more and slowly drifted off to a safer place: my mind. I came to with The Ed calling my name as loudly AND at the same time as quietly as you can in a cinema.* “I think I almost fainted,” I said.

“You did,” said Ed. “Let’s go.”

With that, we left the cinema. Not even 10 minutes in and it was lights out for me. That was poor form. I must say.

Based on the small portion of the film that I did see, I highly recommend it — if you are into that sort of stuff. I personally would prefer to watch the director’s cut of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

* The Editor notes — What Craig doesn’t remember is that it took me over a minute to wake him up from his twitchy, eyes-rolled-back stupour. Since I couldn’t lift his legs above his head for blood flow I resorted to inflicting pain while everyone in the cinema watched, thinking I was reviving a mate who’d drawn a little too much happiness into the syringe.

Comedy gold from he of the ever-expanding head, Collingwood Football Club president Eddie “Boney M” McGuire, addressing his troops in the wake of the recent drink-driving scandal involving key players Heath Shaw and Alan Didak:

On Monday (Eddie) McGuire lectured Collingwood players about their responsibilities and highlighted how much sacrifice club officials, including himself, had made.

It is believed Mr McGuire indicated being president had cost him “four or five” Gold logies.

My valve!

The Editor, John Surname, Ant Rogenous, The Happy Revolutionary, Andy Blume and Craig discuss:

* Costello’s cocktease
* Ramos-Horta loves Vanstone for evah
* Come on, Sam Newman
* Myki: fuck you
* Beheading is the new black
* TardWatch (formerly known as Funniest Things On The Intertubes)

** Because Jeremy is desperately downloading this episode from Heathrow Airport Seaport, use only the “Play in popup” link or the “Download” link. **

 

 GrodsThink 27 (5 Aug 08 [40:34m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

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There’s a big story in the news at the moment about drink driving players who belong to a football team commonly referred to as the “Pies”. It’s a sub-editor’s wet dream. Match the headlines…

* Club bans porky pies
* Eddie chucks pies on sauce
* Collingwood drink drive debacle — out for season

…to the newspapers:

* The Herald Sun
* The Age
* The Australian

Just get a load of those puns. Answers over the fold.

Read the rest of this entry »

Film rating: 5/5
Walkouts: 1/5
Pretentious clapping at credits: 3/5
BPM sighting: No

The graduation film of German filmmaker Niels Laupert, Seven Days Sunday is based on a true story that occurred in 1996.

The film tracks Adam and Tommek, two teenage boys living in the slums of Leipzig. On a random Sunday, bored of petty crimes they decide to up the ante and make a wager, the stakes being the highest they’ve known: someone else’s life.
After failing and wounding one victim, the boys succeed on their second attempt – killing an innocent, and sending their lives into a spiral.

Bam! Third five star film of the festival! This compelling portrait of youth and boredom in rundown ex-communist Germany was a fantastic, if challenging, film experience. Atmospheric direction and cinematography along with gripping performances from the lead actors made my skin crawl and my mind race. The sound design and visual style employed during the key murder scene was masterful and chilling. My only negative is also a positive: at a mere 80 minutes duration I was left wanting more. The film could’ve easily been 15 or 20 minutes longer in the first half to flesh out the two boys’ characters and their complicated relationship.

Once upon a time there was a farmer named Robert Maddock. He was a very rich farmer, and with good reason: Robert had inherited a lot of land from his daddy, Sir Kiefer Maddock, and Robert himself became quite skilled in the farming business. The key to farming, thought Robert, was to (i) own all the grain stores and (ii) therefore control distribution of the grain. When you controlled grain, Robert discovered, people tended to believe what you told them. Especially if you used lots of short words. And pictures of semi-naked women. And stories of dickhead footballers.

Anyway, Robert controlled most of the grain dissemination in his own country so he decided to branch out on a global scale. Before long he was peddling grain all around the world: in England and the U.S. especially. Robert owned so many foreign grain stores that he even had to change his citizenship! But no problem, since Robert’s only loyalty was to his grain-dependent public. Soon, Robert owned 100+ grain outlets and was, like, worth BILLIONS! Robert was so cooool. He celebrated by getting himself a new wife.

But there was one place where Robert’s entrepeneurial skillz had never managed to penetrate: a massive Asian land ruled by evil overlords who were very, very rich but controlled all the grain themselves. Robert decided that this Asian land would be his next goal. If Robert could spread his grain to the people in this land, the evil overlords would be thwarted and there would be democracy and justice for all. But to get a foothold in the Asian land, Robert first had to negotiate with the overlords themselves. Oh brave Robert!

After much negotiating the evil overlords did indeed let Robert sell his grain in the Asian land. But soon, a small problem emerged. One of Robert’s grain stores was run by bad, bad people called “leftists” who were selling bad grain that infected the people’s minds and made the overlords look bad! This grain made people have wild visions and ideas. “Enough!” cried the overlords, and threatened to close down Robert’s operations in the Asian land. Robert came up with a compromise: he would remove the store selling the bad grain, and the people would again be calmed. Peace again reigned: the overlords were happy, the people were compliant and Robert was making squillions.

Years later, things were going so swimmingly in the Asian land that they were given the opportunity to hold a grand festival of sportz. People from all over the world came to participate, to watch and observe. Some of them were called “journalists” and they found, once inside the Asian land, that the evil overlords were not letting them have access to all types of grain. They complained about this - and rightly so. One “journalist” was named Adrian Blot and he complained in a very loud voice indeed. Adrian called those who allowed the Asian land to host these games and restrict grain-flow ”a pack of weasels”, saying that they were “wallowing in [the Asian land’s] cash” and “sponsoring tyrants”. Adrian was quite right about all this, which was not all that common for him; he felt good that evening as he relaxed on his leather sofa, sipping Victory Gin and listening to Puccini.

But do you know what the strange thing is? Adrian-of-the-strong-condemnation actually worked for Robert Maddock … and he had absent-mindedly forgotten to mention Robert’s very similar connections with the Asian land and its masters! So Adrian had actually criticised the sportz peoples for letting the evil Asian overlords regulate and restrict the availability of grain, when his own boss helped them do the same thing years back! Oh silly, silly Adrian. In time he will spot his error and explain that Robert actually belongs to the “pack of weasels” he so nobly slams. I’m sure he will. 

THE END

Together, let us sit upon the ground, sing sad songs and chronicle the end of John ‘Sam’ Newman’s television career:

Thursday - Newman sees footage of Tasmanian tourism minister Paula Wriedt, finds her attractive and expresses a desire to “come on her”. He is pulled into line and castigated by James Brayshaw, who Newman tells to “shut up”. He writes off the incident as a misinterpretation.

Friday - Nine defends Newman for the umpteenth time. The producer of The Footy Show  suggests he’s done “nothing wrong”, and that Newman is “horrified” his comments might have been taken in a sexual context. Despite apparently having nothing to apologise for, Newman ‘phones Wriedt to apologise.

Saturday - Female MPs predictably call for Newman’s removal from the show. Wriedt’s father admits that she was upset by the incident.

Monday - Wriedt attempts to take her own life and is rushed to hospital for emergency treatment.

Now, nobody in their right mind would suggest that ‘Sam’ Newman is directly responsible for Wriedt’s suicide attempt. Reports suggest that Wriedt had many more pressing issues in her life than a single smutty remark: a second marriage breakdown, separation from her two children, the burden of being a state minister, a failed bid for the deputy leadership and declining voter support. But it cannot have helped. The crass comment drew unwanted media attention to Wriedt at what was obviously a difficult time in her personal and professional life. Newman was not aware of Wriedt’s personal situation but that’s precisely why more respectful and circumspect commentary or ‘comedy’ is necessary.

This could be the last straw for Nine, which has ridden with Newman over many blips and freefalls but has probably had about enough. To use a term from one of ‘Sam’s own personal obsessions, he may find himself ejaculated from television forever.

In The Sunday Age news(sic)paper yesterday I scanned a sensational headline: “Net blamed as 10,000 kids turn to crime”. Now, that’s an impressive claim — that a tool for communication has caused ten thousand young people to commit crimes — so I was keen to see exactly how this could occur.

First par.

ABOUT 10,000 Victorian children aged 10 to 14 have been cautioned by police, arrested or ordered to appear in court in the past year, as a surge in youth crime continues.

So that’s where the 10,000 figure came from. Second par.

Victoria Police say the escalation in juvenile crimes — ranging from break and enters to drug offences and assaults — is being fuelled by children’s growing exposure to sexual and violent images on the internet.

Big claim with no evidence to back it up yet. Fourth par.

The head of the police youth affairs office, Inspector Steve Soden, said too many children were viewing inappropriate content on the internet and this, coupled with boredom due to a lack of community services on Melbourne’s fringes, was behind the alarming rise in youth crime.

On what exactly is Inspector Soden basing his claim? And that’s a fairly explosive “coupled with”. There was no mention of community services (or lack of) in the headline of the story and the lack of community services is, on the face of it, much more likely to be “fuelling” youth crime than the intertubes. So what’s with the sensationalist “internet is evil” angle of the story?

Maybe there’s more information about how the internet is evil in the rest of the article. Just give me a moment to read it.

…

Nearly there.

…

Um, there’s not a single mention of the internet after the fourth paragraph. That’s thirteen whole paragraphs out of seventeen that fail to back up the suggestion made in the headline. There are, however, references to drug abuse, binge drinking, dysfunctional and abusive families, unemployment, school retention, sexual abuse and homelessness. But nothing about the internet. Just the two references in the first four paragraphs of the story.

To be fair, the headline technically and correctly states that the net has been blamed by at least one person for 10,000 kids turning to crime, but isn’t it a bit disingenuous to run with “net blamed” when “social conditions blamed” would be much more accurate, given that they are “blamed” for youth crime five times more than the internet in the story?

Nice job once again, Sunday Age.

Film rating: 5/5
Walkouts: 0/5
Pretentious clapping at credits: 4/5
BPM sighting: No

Oscar-winning filmmaker Jan Sverák (Kolya) once again teams up with his father, Zdenek Sverák, who wrote and also leads the cast of this comedy about a man who faces life after retirement. This heart-warming production poses a compelling central question: are you ‘done’ once you retire?

Josef, a high school literature teacher, one day realises that he no longer enjoys teaching and promptly quits. After attempts at various occupations, Josef suddenly recognises his strength through a part-time position at the bottle return counter at the supermarket. Always a meddler, Josef’s gentle involvement in other people’s lives soon leads to complications and some dramatic solutions.

Two five star films in three days is pretty bloody special, and definitely worth getting up for pre-midday on a Sunday. This gentle comedic exploration of a man’s struggle to deal with the “autumn years” of his life was a load of fun and stimulated thought. The script was tight and nuanced, the acting was flawless, and the cheese meter stayed just on the correct end of the scale for the whole film.

Is it wrong to see this and wish that it had another meaning?

And has Bolta really had one million hits this month? It’s only August 3rd after all.

And why do some bloggers of teh Right obsess about their hit count?

These are the pressing questions of our times.

UPDATE: Hit-bragging is so ‘in’, I think we need our own.