Archives: November 2006

30 Nov 2006, Comments Off on Sunday Barbeque

Sunday Barbeque

Author: Helen

This is a repost from the old Cast Iron Balcony archive, August 2003.

On Sunday, my mum’s having the family over for a barbeque. They live in the outer eastern suburbs of Melbourne now. She’d like us to come and help out. Of course, we’d be more than honoured.

Our Gulags, 2

There’s this boy, see. An intelligent boy, good at school. He’s only fourteen years old. Back in 2001, his eyes started to feel sore. He was living in a hot, dusty place. His mum and dad took him for eye tests, of course. They were worried about him. The tests showed he was nearly blind in both eyes. Nearly legally blind. And in pain every day.

Four weeks later an optometrist (not an opthalmologist) tested the boy and claimed he must have always had very poor vision. The parents knew that wasn’t the case. Something very serious was going on.

They have been out of their minds with worry.

What would you do?

You’d go round all the specialists you could. You’d hassle the specialists, the hospital, everyone. You’d get your kid treated in the best way you could.

Except that the boy’s parents had no say in the matter. They were incarcerated behind razor wire at the Curtin Detention centre, at the mercy of ACM, a subsidiary of the US Wackenhut corporation which keeps prisoners for profit. Curtin is in a remote area of WA. The boy needed specialist treatment on a weekly basis, but that would have meant a move to the capital city.

ACM and the Australian department of immigration (DIMIA) delayed and denied treatment to the boy until he had completely lost his sight in one eye, and the other was severely compromised.

You’d be beside yourself. It’s bad enough to know that your child is losing his sight. It’s worse to know that if you had access to treatment, it could be prevented. It’s worse still to know that that treatment is available in the country you are in, but a muddle of incompetence, misdiagnosis, bureaucratic sadism and politics are preventing him from getting it. It’s such a waste, such a wicked waste.

This is what happened next.

Shahin was finally admitted to Princess Margaret Hospital in Perth as an emergency on April 1 – four months too late. Despite a delicate operation, he lost the sight in his right eye.

DOCTOR WILLIAM WARD: The right retina was pulled off and pulled up into the middle of the cavity in the back of the eye and the left retina was in the process of being pulled off also.

So the outcome in the right eye, even though the retina had to be put back on surgically, was very compromised. The left eye was better because it was caught before that happened but it was on the verge of happening in his left eye also.
Although treatment stabilised Shahin’s condition, it could flare up at any moment, threatening the sight he has left. He also has cataracts and glaucoma and requires further surgery.

Against the advice of doctors, when the Curtin camp closed, the family was sent to Port Hedland. Shahin’s mother, Fakhonda, is desperate to move.

FAKHONDA AGDAR, SHAHIN’S MOTHER (Translation): I would love it because he has lost one of his eyes. Now he only has one eye and even that one is in danger because it is so infected and inflamed.
(In early July 2003) in Port Hedland, Shahin’s eyes showed signs of secondary infection.

(SBS, Blind Justice)

Unable to bear the thought of his talented son losing his sight, his father attempted suicide.

At least, after adverse publicity from SBS and the ABC, the boy and his family were moved the the Maribyrnong Detention centre in Melbourne. At last, he is able to get the treatment he needs. If the ACM guards will let him.

On the 30th of July in an ABC interview, Philip Ruddock showed his deep compassion and understanding thusly:

TONY JONES: Now you say that there is no problem with the way he was treated inside detention, but the specialist ophthalmologist Dr Ward says he was treated four months too late and, as a result, his right retina was pulled off, the left was in the process of being pulled off, before he had a proper operation and that there was a misdiagnosis initially by optometrist, not a specialist, and this resulted in him going blind in one eye.

PHILIP RUDDOCK: Well, I simply make this point, Tony — I suspect in relation to people who receive care and attention in detention where they have a higher level of specialist access and general service access while they are in detention that they get better service than many Australians.

(My bold. Pause, while we digest the full meaning of that bloody egregious statement above.)

And I suspect in relation to the places that they have left and the places they have transited, the attention that they receive here would be not just many times but hundreds of times better than might have otherwise been available.

TONY JONES: If a boy can go blind while in detention, what does that say, in the end, about your duty of care?

PHILIP RUDDOCK: Well, first of all, I understand he has one damaged eye and he is continuing to receive treatment for the other.

So, I mean, he hasn’t been made blind in detention.

TONY JONES: When you say he has one damaged eye, he’s blind in that eye, isn’t he?

PHILIP RUDDOCK: Well, I mean, that’s not the point you made before.

I don’t want to get into semantics.

TONY JONES: Well he wasn’t blind in that eye when he came to Australia and, according to Dr Ward, the 4-month delay while he was detention in a remote camp, he went blind in one eye.

PHILIP RUDDOCK: I am not an ophthalmologist, I’m not an optometrist.

No, Phil. You’re not an optometrist. You’re just a bastard.

2006 update: Shahin is now living in TPV limbo, but attending Box Hill TAFE studying english and maths. So he still has some sight. He has two sisters here, 19 and 20, who are also studying, and a younger brother, 14. Fortunately, they have not all been traumatised and damaged to the extent Shahin and his parents have been.

23 Nov 2006, Comments Off on Oh, yes!

Oh, yes!

Author: Helen

Image from

…And I’ve met so many new friends in Alcoholics Anonymous.

Scan from Hole in the Head, via Boynton.

21 Nov 2006, Comments Off on Looks a lot like the old city

Looks a lot like the old city

Author: Helen

According to the New City online mag, this is what your city will look like once the dreaded Greenies and Urban Elites have got to it.

I’m reading a website. It’s badly designed, oldfashioned, with a mishmash of fonts and red, white and blue as the main colour choices, with some horrible grey and bright yellow touches. It’s the sort of thing you expect of a rightwing US site of the Lyndon LaRouche / Bill O’Reilly type.

The articles in the main body text are editorials with the writer left unidentified (a committee?). Articles in the sidebar include Peter Saunders of the CIS, Bjorn Lomborg, Daniel Ben-Ami, property developer Hugh Pavletich, Ray Evans (Lavoisier Group), Alan Moran (IPA), Mark Steyn and Imre Saluzinsky, to name a few. The Links section, which is yellower than any links section oughta be, ncludes Quadrant, “” (lnked to Tech Central Station) and the Lavoisier Group. Cliches abound, with Latte, Latte Left, Tree-hugging, Chattering Classes everywhere.

Out of the many, many links on their front page I could only find three female contributors, pretty well buried, two of whose names were Shanahan and Devine.

So what’s this website? Some tinpot rightwing independent group?

Sadly, it’s a Labor site. Even more sadly (and I say this as a proud union member of many years), it’s a Labor unionist site.

It looks like primarily a Ferguson family project: Mar’n, Andrew and Laurie, with help from other apparatchiks from the Labor Right and the right-leaning unions such as the AWU and CMFEU.

According to the New City, the basis of Labor’s modern malaise is the replacement of “Routine workers” with knowledge and technical workers and the resulting hijacking of Labor by the inner city trendies and Chattering Classes (haven’t seen that one in a while).

Over succeeding decades, however, so-called knowledge workers rose to positions of power across the new services and information economy. Inevitably, their interests diverged from those of routine workers. By the mid-1990s, “Whitlam’s strategy” collapsed under the strain. Contemporary Australian politics are dominated by the consequences of that collapse…

….many knowledge workers seek to enhance their asset by resorting to a predictable type of activism. They will push the envelope on issues like uranium mining, climate change, nuclear energy, civil liberties and asylum seekers beyond the point that reasonable routine workers – a clear majority of the population – will follow. Naturally, these causes may also deliver more immediate benefits to inner suburban professionals, like career opportunities, tax breaks and improved property values…

You get the idea. Routine Worker™ good, tertiary educated “knowledge workers” / “Creative class” bad.

…we argue that if [Labor] is to change its policy spots, it needs first to look hard at its representative structure. “Rank-and-file preselection”, at least in NSW, is widely regarded (especially in the inner city) as a party memberís birthright. We are unconvinced that a few dozen overwhelmingly tertiary-educated social activists should effectively determine who gets what is often an extraordinarily cushy job for life. Itís not just wrong in principle;it tends to select the same types of people in these positions – graduates in the social sciences who move smoothly from university politics, to research jobs in unions or on MPsí staffs, to a safe seat in parliament. Once there, they invariably push for the sorts of policies and programs that create plenty of jobs for others just like them. There must be a better way.

So who are these champions of the routine worker over the tertiary-educated social activists?

Let’s start with the three editors. I couldn’t find much on Google about John Muscat, but he collaborated with Michael Thompson on his book Labor Without Class, which is kind of the New City bible. As John Quiggin points out, the book seeks “to combine cultural conservatism with support for economic rationalism”. Rolly Smallacombe also keeps a low profile, but he was a campaign office staffer for MP Michael Daly, MLA for Maroubra (formerly a lawyer for the motorist advocacy group NRMA). Jeremy Gilling comes up as a research officer into yoof issues for the Macarthur Region organisation of Councils and project manager for Skill Ecosystem, a national project on skill formation, uses of skills, workplace culture and related HR matters.

Nothing wrong with that. All three are also Online Opinion authors. Nothing wrong with that either – unless you’re pushing the line that membership of people with this type of background and skillset disqualifies you to speak for the Labor party.

Moving right along to the article writers and heroes of the New City: Martin Ferguson (University – research officer – union secretary – ACTU president etc); Peter Saunders (Emeritus professor, rightwing academic); Craig Emerson (Sydney University – ANU – economic analyst, advisor, politician); Hugh Pavletich (crusading land developer); Andrew Ferguson (degrees in Economics, Urban Studies and Law, general secretary of the CFMEU (NSW branch); Daniel Ben Ami (financial journalist); Bjorn Lomborg (internationally (in)famous professor of Statistics and global warming
denialist -and look, isn’t he cute/) …You get the picture.

These people are so not “Routine Workers”. In fact, if the New City editorial office, if one exists, had one of those electric eye systems like the ones in the library to detect those terrible knowledge workers and tertiary-educated social activists coming in, it’d be going off its nut continuously.

So what gives these knowledge-workers-and-tertiary-educated-social activists the right to lecture the rest of us, whose opinions on the public good are different from theirs, on our unworthiness to speak on behalf of the Routine Worker™, when they are further from being routine workers than most of the people they criticise? Obviously they must have some special mojo, which not only renders their university degrees and professional white-collar status harmless, but renders their egregious hypocricy invisible. It’s obviously only available to a select few.

Using this special mojo, you can write articles attacking the “types of people…graduates in the social sciences who move smoothly from university politics, to research jobs in unions or on MPs’ staffs, to a safe seat in parliament…push(ing) for the sorts of policies and programs that create plenty of jobs for others just like them…” while being exactly that kind of person, without your brain exploding, or at least registering any shame.

I must endeavour to find out about this special mojo, because it’s obviously pretty good stuff. In the meantime, Paul Norton at Larvatus Prodeo and Tim at Road to Surfdom have been there before me and have written interesting posts on the topic, with lively comment threads. Recommended, especially if you’re contemplating voting Labor in the coming election.

17 Nov 2006, Comments Off on Machineries of Joy

Machineries of Joy

Author: Helen

image from

In the last few weeks I’ve been heard — in the context of the on-going Steve Irwin Memorial Dog’s Home IT upgrade – to say things like “that’s very Heath Robinson” or “that was just too Heath Robinson for my liking” to describe processes that just had too many unnecessary or convoluted steps.

To my surprise, my boss hadn’t heard of Robinson, so I googled some pictures for him: I found some good ones at the wonderful Victorian Web, here, here and here. The picture above is here.

Heath Robinson illustrated many scary goblin-haunted Victorian fairy books – he had a different, Arthur Rackham-esque style for those – and the Professor Branestawm series, which I loved as a child, about a supremely nutty professor (always seen with five different pairs of specs on his head at once), his less bright neighbour Colonel Dedshott and his very long suffering housekeeper Mrs Flittersnoop. My boss hadn’t heard of Professor Branestawm either, and as he has an eight year old I made sure that situation was fixed. If you haven’t heard of the Professor, and you have a pre-teen kid (or niece or nephew or grandkid), get to the bookshop ASAP and stock up. You and the kid won’t regret it.

Update: The polymathic Peacay has some more cool stuff here. How much do you want to bet Heath Robinson was influenced by Renaissance art?

And here’s an American version of Heath Robinson, Rube Goldberg, who I didn’t know about, but discovered from Google searches on Robinson. Teh internets are wonderful.

12 Nov 2006, Comments Off on The Stinky Camembert of Multiculturalism meets the Whiskas of Wimminism

The Stinky Camembert of Multiculturalism meets the Whiskas of Wimminism

Author: Helen

Australia’s living treasure has definitely. lost. the plot.

Where to start? As I’ve said before on the Balcony, Leunig has a problem with women. His Little Battler is always a man. Women are only portrayed in relation to the Little Battler. Although some of them are sympathetic, the threatening slut/whore/nag is never far away. (The irresistible slutbag stripper, the woman with the wolf vagina, the absent mother in the Baby in Child care Centre cartoon.)
What do you get when you allow someone whose skills are in cartooning and the production of coffee-table compendiums of cartoons and Beautiful Thoughts to write prose at length in the opinion pages? It’ll be a lottery. Kaz Cooke, for instance, because her books are more than just coffee-table, and because she is a good critical and rational thinker, comes up with good stuff. Leunig comes up with stream-of-consciousness, which, because it’s obviously not informed by any feminist reading or serious thought on the subject, is just a regurgitation of the patriarchal cliches he’s learned at his mum and dad’s knee – and he contradicts himself, as well as facts and logic, at every turn. And half-truths and life damaging memes are nurtured and spread.

Now, I know I’ve posted before on the positive need for raving ratbags as a kind of cultural yeast, if you will. (And, weirdly enough, I’m in agreement with him there.) But let’s be clear that our Greatest National Treasure is one of them. Let’s not take any of his ravings as a serious prescription for future social reform.

If you think raving is too harsh a word, read the first few paragraphs on the dreaming sea-turtle – which might, at a pinch, make it into the cute-and-lovable category- then this:

At some stage well into the journey you may notice a deluge of advertisements for drugs that help men to get erections, and you may find the city adorned with photographs of naked and semi-naked young women on billboards and magazines, and on the television you may see music clips featuring a continuous throbbing smorgasbord of models and dancing girls thrusting their oiled breasts and wet lips and glistening bottoms at you and groaning and clawing and stroking frantically between their legs – the place where babies are born from – and all around you will notice images of attractive, willing, hot, horny, pre-orgasmic, aching-for-penetration women gasping into the camera for you, urging you to realise how plain, frigid and dull your wife or partner is – and still the erection drug advertisements roll in on your email device along with promises of penis enlargement and you think “what the hell is going on out there?” – and you read stories of drink spiking in nightclubs, and the glamour of raunch culture and the swinging, gang-banging footballers, the sexual abuse of children, the raping, the date raping, the digital raping, and you will see the drunken, gobbling tongue kissing of the masses in the street at night and the men’s sex clubs, peeping booths, pussy parlours and brothels popping up like toadstools galore in the city where your mother and grandmother walked you in the sunshine and fresh air in your lovely little bonnet and bunny rug.

…the fuck??!…

If you feel like a turtle far from the sea and conclude that your society seems to have some sort of deepening hypermanic sex madness that makes you sad and amounts to yet another vital ecosystem in trouble and decline, it is at this point that you may be finally achieving some measure of sexual maturity. Thus you are disqualified from forward-looking, positive-thinking, aspirational Australia and you become another negative, lost soul who worries that your children are growing up in a nation that is in deep psychological trouble and you will be told that it is YOU who has the sex problem.

And it just goes downhill from there, as the basic premise (once we’ve waded past the great oceangoing turtle) is that Sheik Hilaly is just speaking commonsense, and using “earthy” language to say it- yeah, thanks Michael, do you have a cat? Shall I just step into its bowl now, or later?…and society, including women, are all complicit in it. And because the majority of us criticise Hilaly harshly for it, as we think is his due, Michael calls that fascism or Gleichschaltung— actually, just Pee Cee Gorn mad again.

I call it freedom of speech working tolerably well. But what would I know? Let’s face it, we’re all sluts.

Sometimes a religious figure, such as a mufti, makes a sermon about human nature, rape and the general sexual madness – a bit like parents do to their children in private: “Look after yourself, take responsibility – there are some dark forces and crazy people out there who will destroy you if you’re not careful.” But the mufti uses ripe, rustic language, earthy metaphors and unpleasant ideas. He is set up and set upon by a national newspaper and told to shut up and resign. The Prime Minister chimes in. The mufti is denounced.

Now, I know I am going to fall into the trap of letting my whitehot rage take over, so that the Leunigs of this world can intone, “oh but those feminists, they’re all so angry!” But it’s impossible not to be a bit, arrh-hmm, annoyed at reading once again this unconcious patriarchal soup. Who is responsible? Is it impossible for him to conceive of a world where men might take responsibility for their own actions? I guess not. And is Michael so unaware of the fact that feminists (as well as many socially conservative women) have no love, no love at all for these stupid billboards and fashions that rob our kids of their innocence and serve us up like, well, plates of cat’s meat. Who is responsible for those? You want to go after the advertising industry, or would that conflict with your need to sell graphic art?

And there’s this. Which I didn’t have time to blog, but Gary Sauer-Thompson did.

All women are familiar with the commando-like instructions they have received over the years from well meaning friends and family; Don’t go there, don’t go there alone, don’t go there after dark, dress this way, don’t dress that way, do this and this and that if you’re locking / unlocking your car, where to park…

We’re weary of it. It is not our responsibility to bear alone. We can’t make the trains safe, but we can instigate a national conversation with our boys: Girls and women, like you, have the right to mobility. Both men and women can be attacked, but women do not have a special responsibility to spend their lives like some kind of ninja commando in order not to be attacked.

Is Michael even aware of the facts on rape? that most rape victims are raped by people known to them? that rapes occur against people in modest clothing, women over 80, people in their homes, or in nursing homes? We can stunt our lives to appease the Hilalies and Leunigs of this world until we’re cowering in our rooms, and we still will not be a hundred percent safe. I know most of you already know this. This information has been out there for years. To continue to push the She Was Asking For It line indicates a deep ignorance and lack of reading on the topic.

And there’s this second strand in the stream of consciousness, that us progressives and wimminists are imposing a bland, fascist, conformist ideal on everyone by denouncing people like Hilaly, who are the steenky Camembert in the great feast of life! We’re the ones who are actually ruining multiculturalism!

(I’m confused! According to the usual SheeBoltStrocchiVines, we’re all too pee cee to stand up against unsavoury Muftis because we’re too hamstrung by our love of multiculturalism, but Leunig reckons we’re ruining it!)

Personally, I like my swamis, muftis and bishops to use rip-roaring colourful language, to be full-flavoured, overproof and offensive – crucifiably so…
…And I must say it (offensive and patronising as it may be) but I like my immigrants with a lot of terroir, as they say in winegrowing circles, and displaying the idiosyncratic flavours and characteristics of where they have grown up. I remember when an Italian who smelled of garlic was regarded as deeply offensive. I want my new Australians to be abundantly or even outrageously where they’re from – the full bottle. How else should they be if not themselves? Imitation Anglo-Celts? Should they be like Sandy Stone and John Howard? No, no, no! A thousand times no.

Yeah, and I like my “immigrants” with a sprig of parsley.

Colourful, perhaps offensive, traits are so much more interesting in a sideshow.

This is a health issue. We need all the variety and bold and mysterious flavours we can get, surely – the organic diversity of ideas, herbs, recipes, natural yeasts, strange music, strange words. We need that, don’t we?

What’s that banging noise? Oh, it’s the heads on the desks of all the progressives and feminists who have copped flak from the rightwing opinionistas for years because of their commitment to diversity. The same progressives and feminists who Leunig so despises. The same ones who have battled the Howard-right assimilationist rhetoric.

The famous politician, culture warrior and pre-emptive war person Adolf Hitler had an eye for enchanting language and interesting words. He cleverly adapted the technical word “gleichschaltung” to describe an ideal state of personal, cultural, political and economic alignment…
Fascism is the stronger word but gleichshaltung seems more appropriate to describe the thing we have come to know as the globalised, homogenised, new Australian value system.

Now that’s an interesting thought, Michael. We have had quite a few actual fascists move here after WWII. Most of them are dead or dying now, but just as a thought experiment, could you try and imagine what it might have been like if, like ripe Camembert cheeses, the fleeing Nazis had been encouraged to give full rein to their fascist stinkiness? and would you object so strongly if we called them on it?

It’s like trying to do a demolition job on Gormenghast, trying to craft a tight and logical riposte to that article. By Golly, I’d love to see Kaz have a go.

Update 13/11: The conversation continues over at LP.

11 Nov 2006, Comments Off on Gig Guide

Gig Guide

Author: Helen

Saturday Arvos in November
Brunswick Green hotel,
313 Sydney Road
All ages, free
Image from


The brunswick green is where all great tours really should begin. fast becoming known as the place to see & hear some of melbourne’s finest songwriters & musicians including such local luminaries as charles jenkins the joelenes & the vile reign of count mccocula in the 17th dimension

Back 23 tour band
Featuring the wests own sly & robbie with former member of buick kbt & direct from a super sized cameo with mrs. Wainwright the skin doctor helen shapiro smart on drums & introducing on bass krush
Bringing it all back home like a metronome

….may we add that this is an experience almost completely forgotten in other cities but treasured & nurtured at the brunswick green hotel
313 sydney rd, brunswick
Tel 9 381 2413

Back23 tour – “my aim is to attempt 23 dishes”
After the residency was confirmed by the good people of the brunswick green tess made this comment about the tour
” well i think it’s high time these puppies had an airing.
We will be offering the occasional cover & even a sneak preview of some new material. But my aim is to attempt 23 dishes”

Yes direct from beilong

….Tess mckenna plays 23 songs from her back catalogue at the brunswick green hotel
….Tess’ songs not so much stripped back but more like sandblasted to reveal a classic three piece interpretation, Bass drums & guitar

…Beautiful courtyard
Sure there will be sad songs but they will be beautiful
There will be light & shade with the occassional cover & usual light hearted banter you’d expect after a couple of relaxing drinks in the beautiful courtyard which is to be found at the brunswick green hotel
313 sydney road brunswick
All ages welcome
No charge/
Enjoy local music at it’s finest
& the kitchen serves up tasty delights too

Buy CDs here (Boom Bam, Take me to the Place, Make me Wonder)

9 Nov 2006, Comments Off on Melbourne cup: The good, the bad and the ugly

Melbourne cup: The good, the bad and the ugly

Author: Helen

Image from The AGE

After what we’re used to with footballers (year round stoush) and cricketers (behaving like kinder kids), and because we know jockeys are usually no better than they should be – elbowing, bumping, shoving– I watched open-mouthed as Damien Oliver, outridden by about a second by Yasunari Iwata on Delta Blues, reached out and clasped his hand…and they galloped side by side, like that, for a few seconds, then riding back to scale, the camera caught Damien Oliver’s face, beaming with pleasure and congratulation at the serious and overwhelmed Iwata, who looked like he still couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

Then Oliver’s generous remarks:

“I thought maybe I could pick up the winner, but when I got to him (Delta Blues), he found again….I’m sure they didn’t know how much improvement was in this horse…it’s a fantastic feat for the Japanese to come here and quinella the Cup. It’s extraordinary…you’ve got to admire the Japanese what they’ve done, to quinella the Cup. They (Delta Blues and Pop Rock) really got away from the others. It shows they’re a really good pair of horses and it shows the depth of the Japanese horses.”

Did we just have an outbreak of sportsmanship? Remember that old concept?

The Bad

As the perennial nature of horseracing reasserted itself, I soon realised my tearful optimism was misplaced.

“We all learned a big lesson today,” Poulton said. “We were stabled (at Sandown) with them (the Japanese) and a few of their training methods had a few of us raise our eyebrows, but hey, it worked.”

When asked what methods had caught his eye, he replied: “Last week, when we came here (Flemington) for a gallop and the Japanese rider was belting the shit out of the horse (Delta Blues) in his gallop just a week before the race. That was certainly one of them. You need ’em tough and they’re tough all right.”

So, even more and harder beltings for these flighty, liquid-eyed creatures. Hey, it works…

one small thing happened that made all the difference. As Delta Blues blurred past towards victory, a small young Japanese man standing alone suddenly cried, in a timid voice, “Yes, I love you!” Tears spurted horizontally from his eyes. Kazuya Maekawa, Delta Blues’ track rider, overwhelmed and deeply moved, said in four words more about the spirit of winning than any of the commentary or subsequent race speeches.

No, Maekawa, you don’t love him, you belt the shit out of him, don’t you?

The ugly

That red pompom. Lose the pompom!

5 Nov 2006, Comments Off on Festival of Condemnation (and Audrey)

Festival of Condemnation (and Audrey)

Author: Helen

image from

I condemn children who take forbidden food to the computer, forcing their parents to use a second keyboard just for the space bar (and only one of the four shift keys works)1111