Today I blogged about the Internet Engineering Task Force’s (IETF’s) registration of Tor’s “.onion” as a special-purpose domain, and what that means for Tor hidden services and HTTPS certificates, over at Electronic Frontiers Australia (EFA), in collaboration with EFA’s Executive Officer Jon Lawrence.
Update: After I wrote to the landlord, he gave a heartfelt and genuine apology, and said he’d act differently next time. I really appreciate it when people reconsider their views and actions, and I want to acknowledge the effort involved.
I recently had to move house unexpectedly, due to my previous landlord wanting the space back. There were only 9 days between the time I was asked to move out, and when I finished moving house. (This rapid pace wasn’t due to my previous landlord, it just happened that way.)
I looked at a significant number of properties, inspected rooms at six, and came up with a shortlist of four, which I felt ranged from excellent to tolerable. (One declined as they chose another person, and another didn’t get back to me.)
I called the first potential landlord, and we had a chat about specific arrangements to move the next day. I then said: “[When] would you like to meet my boyfriend?” (Who was going to help me move, so meeting him wasn’t really optional.) There were a few seconds’ silence on the phone. The landlord (who lives in the room next to the one I was applying for), asked if my boyfriend would be around much. There was a little awkwardness in the conversation, but it seemed like he recovered quickly. We continued to make arrangements for him to send me the bank account details later that afternoon, so that I could secure the room upon payment. I was looking forward to being close to work, which is why the place was at the top of my shortlist.
I spent the afternoon feeling I had made a terrible mistake disclosing my sexuality and relationship status. I baked biscuits. Because, when you burn biscuits, it’s obvious, and you can throw them out. But when you burn landlords, …
Finally, several hours after I expected to receive bank details via text, I instead received a phone call: “You’re not going to be very happy with me.” Apparently, the landlord and current tenant(s) had decided they only wanted students in the house. (Which seems implausible, given that the ad mentioned a full-time worker as an occupant. It also offered a room suitable for a couple, so that wasn’t the issue.) I told him that at this stage of the process, he could evaluate applicants on whatever basis he wished. And wished him luck finding applicants who suited his criteria.
But I was wrong, at least about the ways in which it is legal to evaluate accommodation applicants. Under ACT law, it is illegal to discriminate against those seeking or accessing accommodation at any stage of the application or tenancy process. (Of course, it still happens.) And, it is illegal to discriminate on the grounds of (assumed) sexuality, relationship status, or, ironically, the thinly-veiled excuse of occupation. [Correction: If the landlord lives on the premises, their selection of tenants is exempted from ani-discrimination law. I was mistaken because I didn’t read the whole of the Discrimination Act. I am not a lawyer, and this is not legal advice.] I told the potential landlord this today. [And I’m just about to eat my words. How awkward.] I doubt he’ll respond. Perhaps he’ll be more clever in his excuses next time. (I guess I could have ended up educating him so he could be more subtly discriminatory.) I hope he reconsiders his attitudes. But, if he doesn’t, he [may be] in a bit of a bind, [at least when it comes to advertising his tenant preferences].
I feel like it would have wasted much less of both our time, if he could have been upfront about his preference for avoiding people he assumes are gay. (I’m bisexual, but I think that distinction would have been lost on him.) Or people in non-straight relationships. Or “people who aren’t students, except for the non-sutdent(s) already living there”. Or whatever. It would be terrible for someone to move in, the landlord to discover they’re gay, and then for them to face overt discrimination for the duration of their contract.
But, due to anti-discrimination law, landlords stating a preference for straight tenants really isn’t an option [unless they are living on the premises]. I doubt the accommodation website would permit it [due to the unlawful (discriminatory advertising) part of the law, and even with the exception for living on the premises, they may not want to be associated with any ads which state “no gays”, however legal] (although I did tell them what he did). It would be unpleasant for me to read through hundreds of ads saying “no gays”. And it would be terrible to not have anywhere to live, simply because I wasn’t straight. I now understand why LGBTIQ people often want to live with other LGBTIQ people.
The accommodation website I used offered applicants (but not landlords), the opportunity to create a profile, and choosing to disclose their sexuality. I believe people should be able to choose whether to disclose their sexuality, and I often choose not to if it seems irrelevant. But if it helps avoid an unpleasant situation like this next time, it’s well worth it.
Now, I’m not homeless. I found some housemates who really don’t mind my sexuality (or my boyfriend). And I moved, fast.
But there are LGBTIQ people around the world who face all sorts of discrimination on a daily basis. Who are homeless as a result, and at a much greater rate than straight people. Particularly young people, whose parents can’t bear to live with them (or treat them abusively), simply because they are gay (US-based figures). What an incredible tragedy.
Blogging Update: It appears that I am going to have to get used to the idea of being an intermittent blogger. There are higher priorities which are taking up a lot of my time right now. And, as a programmer, I already spend a lot of time at a keyboard. So I will satisfy myself with occasional rants. Like this one!
[Update 2/Corrected: Asylum boat turnbacks: Australia paid people smugglers under former Labor government, as well as under Tony Abbott’s government. Abbott’s government turned them back, Labor didn’t, but both paid them money. Oh dear. Just, oh dear. I can’t even…]
Wow, they kicked them out? For protesting? In the foyer of Australia’s Parliament House? Unbelievable.
[Update: Apparently, the protesters were removed because they weren’t in a “designated protest zone”. That’s pretty petty and controlling, if you ask me. Bet the government sympathisers don’t get removed for bootlicking outside “designated fawning zones”. What, the entire country is a designated praising-the-government zone? I rest my case.]
But you can just walk into Parliament House and take a self-guided tour. I did it with a backpacker friend. We even got to see both Houses of Parliament (they weren’t sitting at the time).
So I can only conclude that they are being kicked out for their opinions. (Or, euphemistically, “causing a disturbance”, or “blocking the walkway.”)
Police state warning.
This is breaking news, so I’m posting it straight away. But that means I’ve burned a blog post I could have used as a buffer later in the week…
Women get paid 83% as much as men.* That’s a 17% loss of female earning capacity (real jobs or real pay that women have lost just for being women).
So compare this ongoing, systemic discrimination** against women with a very few, very sexist men losing their jobs.
If 17% of men lose their jobs over being sexist and male, then that’s an interesting statistic.
When 17% of men lose their jobs over just being male, then I’ll agree there’s something terribly wrong.
That said, I am a white man who benefits from systemic bias in many ways. I sometimes say stupid, discriminatory things. I don’t always realise. I’d hope to be told what I’d done, and given a chance to change.
I recently did the Old-Young and Gay-Straight Harvard Implicit Association Tests. It turns out I have implicit positive associations with being young and straight. Which is tough when I’m getting older (and gayer!) If you’re interested in your own implicit biases, and willing to be disturbed, give them a try.
After missing a week or so of blogging, I’m trying a new strategy – less-than-perfect drafts! Let me know how it goes, or if I mess anything up.
- Yes, I rounded up.
** In orchestral auditions, the impact of gender on assessment is 50%.
… or, in my case, writing bi-daily.
It’s tougher than I expected – I missed my scheduled post today, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen.
It’s late, and I’ve been feeling under the weather. (Which, by the way, is freezing cold at the moment!)
I hope to be up to posting more tomorrow or the next day.
I had a haircut last weekend.
You’d think such a simple thing wouldn’t make much difference, but my chronic pain has increased since then. The back of my neck gets colder (it’s winter here), the muscles tense up, and then so do the problem muscles a little lower down.
So this is another short post, because when my body finally got a good night’s sleep, I woke up at 3pm. I’m still feeling a little shaky and uncoordinated, but that might just be low blood pressure.*
* Oh, I get low blood pressure as well. Feel a bit faint at times. But alongside everything else, it doesn’t even rate.
Guess what I made?
I was going to expound at great length on my snarky comments about modern trends in the design of meta-cookery. But I’m not feeling much like writing today, so you’ll have to make do with my crib notes and a few photos. (See the end of the post for photos.)
Ever noticed how artisanal brownies taste just the same as packet brownies, but at 10x the cost and effort?
How slow cooking is easy when you have chronic pain?
How medjool dates, raw cacao powder, and buckwheat/brown rice flour are almost indistinguishable from the cheaper alternatives? (unless, of course, in the latter case, you’re gluten intolerant)
How it’s called “buckwheat flour”, because it’s not “buck wheat flour”? (In Australia, 1kg home brand flour is typically $1. You’ll never get buckwheat flour for $1, no matter how small the packet.)
How cocoa and cacao are almost the same, except perhaps for a vowel swap, a $8 surcharge, and the inclusion of buzzwords on the (tastefully matte) plastic packet? (But I wasn’t going to take the risk of skimping on chocolate – I do have some standards!) If I really wanted a genuinely different zing to my recipe, I could have added coca powder or hemp seeds instead!
How it’s only the rich who can afford the time to shop, cook, and eat raw/organic/whole foods/fresh/insert-buzzword-here?
How “fair trade” means “we pay the
slaves servants poverty-stricken third-world developing country workers employees partners just slightly more”?
I do have to wonder what the ultimate extreme of this quest for freshness, wholeness, goodness, and purity is… Let me take a stab at it, based on the recipe below:
Two or three hefty but not grotesque, organic, freshly unearthed sweet potatoes, unblemished, well-rounded, and perhaps slightly phallic.
23 3/4 locally-sourced moist, succulent, terribly expensive dates, plucked gently from the palm by the hands of virgins (well, at least young women [I hear the words are quite similar, at least in the Bible]) who maintain their perpetual purity with a determined, yet seemingly effortless hourly yoga routine.
3 children’s handfuls of almonds ground to a rough meal, through a traditional water-driven millstone process. Although I’m a fan of rawness, that doesn’t extend to the children not washing their hands. And a little bit of child labour is acceptable, isn’t it?
A fragment of a mug (spun on a wheel by your own hands) of unsullied, unbleached, unadulterated flour, definitely not based on wheat, gluten, rice, corn, or any other grain you’ve ever heard of. (No, you can’t use potato flour, that’s what the first ingredient is for.) Ensure the flour has never touched plastic during its lifecycle – plastic has so many nasty chemicals! Instead, let the flour absorb whatever it was shipped and stored next to in its paper or fabric bag.
10 inner elbows of hand-pulverised cacacececicicococucu powder, produced by artisans in so-casual-it’s-almost-non-existent employment in countries where minimum wage operates on a don’t ask, don’t tell basis (if you don’t ask for minimum wage, we won’t tell you you can’t have it). But we got someone to certify them organic and barely traceable anyway.
Two mouthfuls of fresh maple tree sap, sucked from the tree by bare (or is that bear?) lips in below-freezing conditions.
A handful of Dead Sea salt, dried by the winds, waves, and sun over thousands of years. Throw it over your shoulder, and let the salt outside the bowl remain where it falls.
We eschew modern technology in our food preparation, so steam or bake your sweet potato – goddess forbid you should ever use a microwave, they produce so many nasty rays! But feel free to let your dates warm in the sun to soften them.
We’d really like you to use a solar oven, and blend your ingredients by hand; but electric and gas are so convenient, as are food processors.
If you spare any expense in procuring these ingredients, we want you to feel guilty, so we’ll vaguely impugn more common ingredients with untestable assertions about them being of inferior strength or quality. In short, if you want to buy cheaper ingredients, you’d better make up the price difference by buying multiples of the quantity.
I love cooking, I enjoy good food, but I think it’s time we were real about the difference between “real” food, and sales and marketing buzzwords. Are you being sold a story, or a product? And is that story worth multiples of the price, particularly if the items are indistinguishable in practice?
So it turns out I felt like writing more than I realised – or is that I felt more like writing than I realised?
Oh, and I’m limited in the metadata I can attach to this post because I’m on my iPad. The NSA, GCHQ, and ASD will just have to cope. Or they could just ask me – I hear it’s much “cheaper than spying”. (Insert link here.)
Apologies also for the lack of links and footnotes, they’re even harder than metadata. As are photos interspersed with text, apparently. Of course, if I’m lucky, my iPad includes location info in all my photos, and the WordPress iOS app doesn’t strip it out when uploading, so now you all know where I live. Do come stalk me sometime.
The original recipe, which I treated more like a set of guidelines.
(The last sentence says that if you don’t use raw cacao powder, you’ll need twice as much. Call my skeptical of vague aspersions being cast against perfectly good food ingredients.)
Edit: When I write my posts an hour before my self-imposed deadline, I let occasional minor mistakes slip through. I tidied up the spacing and grammar, added a few minor jokes, and annotated the pictures. Oh, and added extra metadata!
Yeah, no footnotes today. I blame the WordPress iOS app.