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There are more than 200 results, only the first 200 are displayed here.
This might be the Mediterranean were it not for the snow-lacquered mountains abutting the fjord we're sailing through. But no, it's the Arctic in summer — or, more precisely, the Arctic in the summer of 2019, when the climate emergency is at its zenith and the region is expected to record the lowest sea ice on record.
Without audio description, 357,000 Australians are excluded from a world of social interactions that are continuously evolving around a plethora of drama, comedy and romance; from a pop culture language that stems from fictional characters glorified in sweeping epics like Games of Thrones and a multitude of other popular series.
Even when established historical queer figures get their own biopics, their queer relationships are often straightwashed, and cisgender straight people are put at the centre of the narrative. While queer fictional characters can make up some of this gap, historical narratives are important too.
While Bob Carr's institute was deemed to be a panda hugger and Clive Hamilton's position on Chinese influence was considered to be dragon slaying, knowledgeable discussion is a distant third. To China-watchers, the relative lack of a sophisticated focus on Australia-China relations during the election was simply business as usual.
My social media feeds were awash with posts from my friends — many of whom are queer, disabled or on low incomes — worrying about their futures and the future of our earth. I saw countless posts with people saying 'That's it, I'm moving to NZ'. I completely understand the desire people had to give up — I felt it too.
It wouldn't take much for an accident to happen, for things to fall apart. But today we have the kindly and calm Bus Driver. He wants the bus to do its job, to move as many people as possible on this afternoon when there is only one train line open, where the street is thick with footy crowds.
No Friend But the Mountains deservedly won an Australian prize but was considered ineligible for others because the writer was not Australian. The book itself mocks that exclusion. Boochani's years on Manus Island branded him as Australian in the same way African slaves became American by the brand American owners burned on to them.
It's liberating to buy a ticket for one. To not have to coordinate times with someone, but do things by my own schedule. To go see the niche movie none of my friends wants to see, or the art exhibition I forgot was in town until its last day. But alone time isn't just something I do because I like it. I need it.
What a poor showing. This collection of the desperate clinging to a dream so old it is just a tattered mumble for old men in the fading light. All myth and spittle.
On the morning of your last day there are eight people, including me and my daughter, who is a music therapist and has played music for people as they die as part of her clinical practice. After discussions during the week, first with you and then with your neurologist, it was decided that she will sing for you and the people with you today.
You say you are not in a war zone, but look at all these deaths mounting up around you, this friend and that one suddenly gone, the news coming unexpectedly and from unexpected sources, and with each passing, other deaths: the death of friendships, of anticipation, of familiar voices ...
If the rest of Australia was as brave as those four women who told their stories, and confronted their fears regarding the full extent of what safety, autonomy and equality for Aboriginal women might truly look like — free from racism, sexism and a state which continues to benefit from our oppression — things could actually get better.
145-156 out of 200 results.