'In 2006, a shopping centre in Queensland’s Hervey Bay agreed to de-install a controversial anti-loitering device on the basis of unlawful discrimination and direct physical harm. Installed in 1996 at the recommendation of local police, the ‘Mosquito’ emits a continuous tone at a frequency of 17.4 kHz in order to deter antisocial youth. &e device’s efficacy depended on the fact that our ability to hear high frequencies rapidly deteriorates with age. Arguments both for and against this device pivot on the way it deliberately manipulates auditory perception to target a specific, presumably undesirable, demographic. What we heard as teenagers—what we were capable of hearing—is very different to what we’re hearing now.' (Editorial introduction)
Contents indexed selectively.
'I am listening to the ghosts of the meatified. It is to them that I - my thinking, my writing - is accountable. But, with only these words, how can I account for even a fraction of what goes on in the world of industrial animal agriculture? I can't. Not really. I know this. Here I go.' (Publication abstract)
'Travelling around the northern hemisphere, a good chunk of time ago, I'd arranged to stay in ['name of large city'] with the relative of a close friend for a night or so. He lived in a share arrangement with two women artists. When he spoke of them, it was with a kind of dreamy reverence, something a more prudent guest might have clocked. Who knows, too, how he felt about a visitor, about the effort of hosting someone two steps removed? Guests are an interruption, a kind of work, after all. It was confirmed over email and, following a train-bus combo from the main airport to his suburb, he met me somewhere I can't recall and seemed pleased enough, even excited, that I'd arrived. We were about the same age, were known to sleep (at least sometimes) in hetero configurations and were both officially single. That day we traipsed around the city, stopping in at drinking establishments, meandering through galleries, careening around parks. I still have a photo of him clinging to a playground merry-go-round, giddy in the sunshine.' (Publication abstract)
'Four teen girls behind me on the bus are discussing how they'd like to die. Usually, on my commute, I'd be partaking of a true crime podcast, in which hosts tell stories of women whose agency has been stolen for all time. These chicks, though, speak with total conviction when agreeing that, if they absolutely 'had' to die, crashing a red Lamborghini would be the primo way to go. Millennial Thelma and Louise, you make my heart soar. I keep listening - it's hard to not to - and reliving that adolescent capacity to be aspirational, cynical and palpably earnest, all at once. When you're dying to be heard, and no one's listening. Of all the conversations I've overheard in my life, this is fast becoming a favourite.' (Publication abstract)
'Amanda and Henry spotted a news crew out in the paddocks between Melbourne and Castlemaine. At the time they were out of range of the major radio stations and couldn't think of anything to talk about. Amanda had said they should try to get on television, so Henry pulled off the road and parked behind a van with a satellite on the roof.' (Publication abstract)
