a queer existence

KP & Gravy

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Sat, 11 Oct 2008 04:34:00 +0000

Teleny Young Gun

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Wed, 24 Sep 2008 11:20:00 +0000

New Religion

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 20:11:00 +0000

Church of Euthanasia

Teleny attends the Republican National Convention in the Twin Cities to witness the end of a shameful era

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 22:35:00 +0000

White men in suits arrived in cars whose heavy tred will bankrupt our children's future. Indifference is easy with your eyes closed.

The unwashed anarchists with their street theatre protests are kept at bay by cops shouting orders.'Non-lethal' pepper spray and tazers remind the angry crowd who is in charge, who is on the payroll.

Middle America gathers impotent and boring on legislative lawns, Greek columns stand witness to their tired cries of 'NO MORE WAR'. No one is listening; it's Sunday and the only people in the building are cleaning carpets on minimum wage.

Many people are mad at the Repubicans. Some are just plain mad. The Westboro Baptist Church stand in a clump preaching their hilarious parody of medieval morality.

Fences and clones with earpieces welcome us into sanctuary where security scans for bombs and sharp shouts remind us that though we have press passes, no one is really welcome but the GOP at the RNC.

Starbucks quenches my thirst. I think of the anarchists whose cheerful song had me dancing in the streets. What would they think of me now as I sip my $5 iced tea, inside the lines?

As we leave, police wrestle boys from bicycles as the order goes out: no more disorder. The angry people must be stopped. Journalists arrested, I keep my distance. I fly to Canada tomorrow and I don't want to miss my flight.

Place of Refuge

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 21:26:00 +0000

Pre-European Hawaiian culture was ruled by a strict set of moral codes called "kapu (taboo)". Those who broke the codes - by, for example, treading on the shadow of a chief - could expect a summary execution for their transgression, unless they were swift and strong enough to escape to a place of refuge.

Pu'uhonua o Honaunau - the place of refuge at Honaunau - is surrounded on two sides by a high dry stone wall, and on the other by shark infested water.

Hawaii's ruling class were overthrown by the American and European "Committee of Safety" in 1893 and Hawaii became a territory of the United States in 1896, and a state in 1959.

Today the rights of Hawaiians suspected of criminal activities are protected by the American Constitution. In particular the Fifth Amendment states that "no person shall be held to answer for a capital or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a grand jury...." and the Eighth Amendment that no "cruel of unusual punishment [shall be] inflicted.

These rules of course do not apply to anyone labelled a "terrorist" by a Republican administration.

Land of the free indeed.

Amnesty International USA

Mauna Loa

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 01:11:00 +0000

Hawaii's Big Island is made five separate shield volcanoes which exude thick gloopy lava in overlapping flows. Two of them - Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa dominate the island of Hawai'i with their sister eruptions. The taller of the two - Mauna Kea - is in a post-shield stage, with historic eruptions covering the peak with cinder cones. The larger of the two - Mauna Loa - stands a few meter's shy of Mauna Kea, but eclipses her majesty with a massive 75,000 cubic kilometers of rocky mass - the largest volcano in the world.

With shallow sloping sides that rise from sea level to over 4000 meters, hiking up Mauna Loa is a long slow three-four day slog though a hellish world of lava fields and ever thinning air.

Not for the faint-hearted.

I started my adventure with a drive up the Mauna Loa Strip Road to the Look Out carpark. At 2000 meters high, the forest is still thick with trees and the first few hundred meter's of the trail are shaded and cool. Pretty soon, however, the trees give way to a bleak and rocky landscape of seemingly endless lava. Red. Black. Yellow and Green.

After a steady but shallow climb for 12 kilometers, sits the Red Hill Hut. At 3000 meters above sea level, the air is markedly thin, and I stopped for the night to aclimatise my body. A breathless and fitful sleep - waking occasionally to fill my lungs with air.

The next day I woke at dawn to a gulp of green tea and a bowl of porridge to start to longest, hardest day of my life. 20 kilometers to climb 1000 meters wouldn't be much at sea level - but at this altitude, every step is a chore.

At 3900m the track crests the edge of the rim and decends into the caldera across a sixty year old lava flow. The cairns, clearly visible across this flat plane of shiny black lava lead the walker past the dramatic Lua Poholo - an enormous hole, once over brimming with hot lava.

Eleven hours after setting out, with heavy steps and gasping lungs, I finally reached the Mauna Loa Cabin. Perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Mokuaweoweo Caldera, I fell into bed for a even more restless sleep as I switched back and forth between my body's competing needs for rest and oxygen.

The next day I woke late and fixed my camping stove which had been spluttering the night before. I stood in wonder at the edge of the cliff, staring down into a lost lake of black rock. The sun was high and hurt my eyes as I read my book by Carl Jung on dreams and meaning. The air was rice paper thin and my brain throbbed. The hut - squeezed between two opposing worlds of blue heavens and black rock - was a homely refuge against the brutal pure elements of earth.

I found a bottle of whiskey in the cabin and decided to spend the day dancing naked in this place of undeniable magic.

Monkey Monster Mercury

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 00:53:00 +0000

Valley of the Kings, Hawai'i

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 00:26:00 +0000

Lava Dance

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 21:35:00 +0000

Down the Chain of Craters Road in the East Rift Zone of the Hawai'i Volcano National Park lie a series of craters and steam vents which rise out of an expansive lava field laid in the early 1970s. The landscape is stark - with only occasional ferns and scrubby ohia trees breaking through the rock.

Though the Napau Trail is closed beyond the Makaopuhi Crater because of the toxic volcanic fumes, a one day walk is possible by turning south along the Kalapana and Naulu trails to Kealakomo.

An unplanned detour off the main path took me to Mauna Ulu - a bottomless steep sided crater pumping sulphurous steam into the wind.

The path is difficult to navigate despite the wellplaced cairns. Black lava, sharp and unstable, droops down hills in twisted liquid forms. At one point, the remains of a road is visible - reclaimed by the earth as a foot of black lava smothers the tarmac.

When the sun finally burnt through the clouds and the hot blue sky opened overhead, there seemed only one appropriate response.

Hawai'i Volcano National Park

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 23:46:00 +0000

Mathew and I went to Volcano National Park on the Big Island to gawp at lava flows and the sulphur dioxide which is pumping out of Halema'uma'u.

Much of the park is closed because of the toxic fumes, which react with sunlight and cover the Kona coast of the Big Island with toxic 'vog'.

Map Courtesy of National Geographic

Lava, Rocks, Sea, Steam and Sky

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Sun, 03 Aug 2008 21:47:00 +0000

If he bites you hard enough

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 21:03:00 +0000

Jay (n)
\ˈjā\

Middle English, from Old French gai.

1. A noisy and vivacious bird (1310).
2. Flashy dresser (1623).
3. Impertinent person who breaks pedestrian rules. Jaywalker (American slang, 1920s).
4. A marijuana cigarette (American slang, 1970s).
5. Australian visual artist (AceJayAce 2008).

Saddle Road, Hawaii

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 22:07:00 +0000

4205 meters of cinder

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 09:16:00 +0000

Before the arrival of European sailors and missionary Christians, who infected the Hawaiian people with syphilis and Christianity, the highest point on Hawaii's Big Island was a very sacred place.

Mauna Kea was not a just a mountain, but the very "belly button" of Hawaii - the first born child of Sky Father and Earth Mother.

Nowadays it's more well known for being the world's highest mountain (measured from its base - the floor of the Pacific) and its exceptionally clear skies.

Geologists peer down through overlapping cinder cones for the ancient crater. Astonomers come from all over the world to see the stars.

I drove to the top of Mauna Kea in a white Ford motor car and ate lunch at the peak from a plastic tupperware pot.

And was blown away.

By the infinite horizon, the thin crisp air and the endless barren volcanic cinder which marks the umbilical scar of the world.

Sand. Honokohau Beach, Hawaii

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 04:33:00 +0000

Photographer: Matthieu

Phobic Breeders

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 06:11:00 +0000

Homophobia is the "irrational, intense and persistent fear or aversion towards homosexuals/homosexuality".

Like all phobias, 'homophobia' can interfere with the daily life of the phobic. If the fear or aversion is beyond control, the phobic person may receive a clinical diagnosis of "anxiety disorder".

Luckily for all of us, there are successful treatment options for all phobias - including homophobia.

In addition to Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) which can help the homophobic patient change the cycle of negative thought patterns and retake control of their lives, homophobes also respond well to sustained systematic desensitization programs (or graduated exposure therapy).

Firstly, the homophobe is taught relaxation techniques to take control of their fear.

Secondly, through a sustained and graduated program of exposure to homosexuality, the homophobe learns to control his/her irrational fear and overcome their anxiety disorder.

In addition to the troublesome anxiety caused by homophobia, homophobes also experience social isolation due to impared emotional funtioning. Fear of homosexuality limits emotional bonding and physical intimacy with members of the same gender. These basic human needs become only available through different-gender-intimacy, which, often linked to sexual activity, is therefore limited in its availability.

The uncontrollably anxious and 'hugless' homophobe's suffering can, if unchecked, manifest itself in antisocial behaviour (unprovoked verbal assaults), and at its worst, physical violence. The last 24 hours of Matthew Wayne Shepard's life remind us that the suffering inflicted by homophobia goes well beyond the anxiety and emotional isolation of the homophobe.

Thus, unlike most phobias, the major victim of homophobia is not the phobic patient him/herself, but the object of the fear itself: the homosexual. This transference of victimhood - where the pathological homophobe projects his/her pathology onto the homophobia who thus becomes stigmatised - allows whole groups of homophobes to reinforce their anxiety disorder and mask responsibily for their pathology in phony "moral norms".

So common is this process of transference that whole societies can become infected with homophobia. The organs of the state, instead of seeking a cure of pathological homophobic behavior in the wider population, reinforces homophobia and creates social acceptance of homophobes by institutionalising homophobia. Homophobia, instead of being treated, is normalised; homosexuality is stigmatised and punished.

State sponsored homophobia takes many forms.

In most Western countries, many homophobic states still refuse to publically acknowledge and fully legitimise homosexual relationships. For example, only 5 countries in the world (The Netherlands, Spain, South Africa, Belgium and Canada) fully legitimise samesex relationships with the 'normal' institution of marriage. Though many countries allow same sex civil unions, with some or all the legal rights associated with marriage, samesex relationships are still legalisally stigmatised and devalued in relation to heterosexual marriage in most western countries, with the separate category of "civil union". Homosexuals in Western countries continue to suffer at the hands of a phobic state which denies them the civil legal protections enjoyed by straight people.

At its worst, state sponsored homophobia, finds its force through the crimial code, where the object of fear (the homosexual) is punished through the criminal sanction. According to a survey by The International Lesbian and Gay Association (ILGA) published in November 2006, 86 countries continue to criminalise consensual adult homosexual sex either through direct anti-sex laws, or through the selective application of laws of promiscuity, prostitution and immorality. In many countries homosexuals regularly suffer arrest, imprisonment and/or fines for simply expressing themselves.

Shockingly, over 300 million people (more than the entire population of the United States) live in countries where sexual relations between people of the same sex may be subject to the death penalty, including Iran, Nigeria, Pakistan. Hanging and stoning are the most popular methods of execution.

Never underestimate the means which the homophobic state will use to allow the homophobic majority escape responsiblity for their collective anxiety disorder.

According to the same survey, Europe is by far the safest continent to be a sexual minority- no country in Europe criminalises homosexuality. South America is also a relatively free place - the only country which still proscribes consenting sex between same sex adults is Guyana. Africa is probably the worst continent to be a homosexual, particularly the ex-British colonies (which inherited the pre-1967 British sodomy laws) and states influenced by Sharia Law. Across the African continent, with the exception of South Africa, homosexuals continue to be marginalised and criminalised by sexually paranoid states.

Looking at the list of countries and their individual expressions of state sponsored homophobia, it seems that, in general, richer westernised countries are more relaxed about homosexuality. State sponsored homophobia across Europe and much of the Americas is thankfully now limited to differential treatment in areas such as marriage, taxation, parenting and pension rights. Singapore (rich but undemocratic) continues to apply antisodomy laws in consenting adult sexual relations - which suggests that a vigorous democratic tradition is important for reducing state sponsored homophobia.

One country with strong and entrenched democratic traditions, however, stands out for the continuing acceptance of extreme state homophobia - India. Infact, with such a large population, the vast majority of those people on the earth who live under repressive (as opposed to discriminatory) homosexual laws actually live in India - the world's greatest democracy.

Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code (IPC) penalizes "voluntary carnal intercourse against the order of nature with any man, woman or animal." (IGLHRC) with a fine and up to 10 years in prison. According to the IGLHRC "documented reports and anecdotal evidence suggest that the impact of Section 377 on lesbian, gay, bisexual, hijra, and transgender communities in India include: police violence including sexual assault, custodial abuse and extortion; forced electroshock and drug-based reparative therapies in mental health institutions; the use of police by parents and older siblings to detain and intimidate family members in gay and lesbian relationships; the arrest of NGO workers doing HIV/AIDS prevention with men who have sex with men (MSM); and daily stigma and discrimination against LGBT people contributing to significant suffering and suicides".

That sexual minorities in the world's largest democracy continue to suffer from irrational and corrosive state sponsored homophobic repression, reminds us that the gains in the civil rights of sexual minorites made in most democracies over the last 30 years remain incomplete.

Many democratically elected governments across the world continue to respond to the irrational and pathological fears of a disturbed population with discriminatory legislation. Some continue to criminalise our existence. Instead of treating their disfunctional homophobia, the heterosexual majority continues to punish sexual minorites - the object of their collective sexual anxiety.

- - - - - - - - - -
Matthew Shepard Foundation
ILGA

Am I Pos or Not ?

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Fri, 30 May 2008 05:11:00 +0000

Do you think you can tell whether I'm HIV positive or not?

Play the game and find out.

www.posornot.com

(thanks TT xoxo)

Walt

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Thu, 15 May 2008 03:59:00 +0000

Tomorrow I return to Melbourne.

I left that handsome city at the beginning of the year - exhausted, and very happy. A year of working, making friends, making love and finding an interesting new kind of happiness.

But my memories Melbourne remind me of a poem by Walt Whitman.

"Once I passed through a populous city, imprinting on my brain, for future use, its shows, architecture, customs and traditions. But now of all that city I remember only the man who wandered with me there, for love of me, day by day, and night by night, we were together. All else has long been forgotten by me - I remember, I say, once one rude and ignorant man who, when I departed, long and long held me by the hand, with silent lips, sad and tremulous." WALT WHITMAN

This time it will be different.

Fouad

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Wed, 07 May 2008 01:57:00 +0000

Teleny at Taranaki

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Fri, 02 May 2008 08:02:00 +0000

Taranaki - Round the Mountain

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Fri, 02 May 2008 04:43:00 +0000

Three days of torrential rain left too much snow on the peak of Taranaki to attempt the summit without crampons and an iceaxe. At 2240 meters, Mount Taranaki gets the first snow of the season, and I'd left this last summer hike too late to safely reach the peak. Repacking my bags, I set off round the mountain instead.

The North Egmont Visitor Centre is a pretty serious affair. Mountain Cafe and Taranki Museum disguise the fact that this office is here to make sure that less people die on the mountain. A relatively easy climb, with very rapid changes in weather means Mount Taranaki is easily the most dangerous mountain in New Zealand. As I signed in my hiking intentions I kept my fingers crossed that if I did fall down a gully that the helicopter would come before I became another statistic.

From the visitor centre the path climbs rapidly up The Razorback. The cloud was low and the forest saturated. As the path leveled out and turned south, forest gave way to tussocked grassland and the steep slopes of the mountain came into view.

As I passed the Manganui Lodge, the rain began to pour. For an hour I fought forward through a wall of water, arriving early afternoon at Dawson's Falls where I spent the night in the mountain lodge - drying clothes and eating pasta.

The next morning I rose early for the longest, and hardest day of my round the mountain hike. Putting my pack on my back, I set off, up a seemingly endless slope. The rain slacked off as I reached the turn off for the Kapuni Lodge, where the sludgey track gave way to snow and ice.

I had originally intended to spend the night in Syme Hut but the ice on the track made my ascent precarious, so I headed off south west down the Upper Lake Dive Track. Grass, heavy with windblown ice, cut into my calves as I forced myself forwards across the frozen slopes.

A brief respite from the cold as the path decended below 1300 metres gave a moment's chance to back down. Snow and ice, horizontal sleet. Should I take the easy route down the mountain and try again tomorrow? As I considered my options, the clouds, milky chaos, parted briefly and gave a glimpse of blue. There is nothing like sunshine for morale.

At the Waiaua Gorge Hut, I stopped; exhausted. Filling up on instant noodles, I lay down in front of the coal fire and slept fitfully as the full moon drifted westwards over the silent mountain.

The next two days I took it easy. An early start and a two hour wander across dry river beds, through thick forest took me to the Kahui Hut. As I dropped my backpack, the sun finally came out strong, and I spent the afternoon of day three lying in the sun reading and drying my socks.

The next day I set off down the Puhino Track across 20 meter deep gullies where rivers in flood rage, uprooting trees and rolling bolders. At Stony River, the confluence of volcano soaked water becomes one mighty channel, at wide as a Los Angeles highway; as deep as a Manhatten Street. Bolders, as big as Minis, rolled like marbles, stand stuck on perches waiting for the next dredging. It's unnerving to imagine a wall of water sufficiently heavy to shift this land.

Skirting the south side of The Dome I made an early dinner at Holly Hut and snuggled up in my sleeping bag in front of the wood stove as the rain began to pour, all night, and again all day, as I trudged my way back to the North Egmont Visitor Centre for beer and a generous fried breakfast.

Dirty Slave Boy

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 02:07:00 +0000

Almost the Thousand Acre Plateau

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Fri, 11 Apr 2008 03:05:00 +0000

Craig Potton is one of New Zealand's most famous landscape photographers.

Flicking through his latest book, something caught my eye. An image, and a feeling. A need to get out of that chair and onto the coffee table, into those pages, between the leaves, and into that photograph of the Thousand Acre Plateau.

Rising like Mesa from New Mexico, the Thousand Acre Plateau, once a sea bed, is one of New Zealand's oldest pieces of rock. Much of the rest of the country is the spew of a thousand earthquakes and volcanoes. This land is old land - risen slowly on the back of a timeless continental drift.

Sebastian, a friend of mine from Nelson, couldn't think of a better way to spend the weekend - so we determined to climb those thousand meters and see for ourselves.

Half an hour's drive north of Murchison along the Matiri River, the trail head takes the last few meters of dirt road, as the path continues north along the bank of this great river. Hopping over the dried out West Branch of the Matiri River, the trail hugs the bank, rising high through a scree fall as river twists west with views of the the unnamed mountains.

Sebastian and I made our ascent through dense forest. Skirted the southern end of Lake Matiri, the rains began to fall as we approached the Lake Matiri Hut. A log fire, rehydrated pasta; we read aloud from M. Scott Peck's "A Road Less Travelled". As the rain fell in increasing intensity, Sebastian and learnt that "love is not a feeling...but an activity...in investment in one's own or another's spiritual growth...and is best maintained not by mutual dependence, but by mutual independence". Mmmmmmmmmmm

........................................................................
The rain fell all night. Lightening struck and thunder roared through the valley. A late start on day saw us set off north, along the side of Lake Matiri. Warming up our worn out legs, down a shallow hill we hit our first obstacle. Water. Tons and tons of water.

Bay Creek was flooded. Ten meters wide and one meter deep, its relentless flow blocked our path. Nature caught out: we imagined ourselves stepping through the wall of water, only to see a tree, ripped from the earth, carried off, lost.

I thought M. Scott Peck probably had something wise to offer on meeting ones limits, acknowledging failure and moving on.

We turned back.

Returning past the hut, we headed back to the car, fingers crossed that we weren't blocked. It was obvious as we approached: the aptly named Rain Peak had recieved more than it's fair share of precipitation. The West Branch of the Matiri River - yesterday a dried out river bed, was in full flood. Raging, storming past, as the rain continued to pour, we turned back, disheartened and sodden to the Lake Matiri Hut. If only M.Scott Peck had a chapter on always checking the weather before going tramping.

Shane at Whararaki

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Mon, 31 Mar 2008 05:58:00 +0000

Photographer: Shahah

Lumber Jack

noreply@blogger.com (Teleny) — Sat, 29 Mar 2008 05:13:00 +0000

Photographer: Richard