If there are comments in a Section C, do you have to state the contentions of all of them in the introduction?
I just had a crack at VCAA 2011 (10 mins reading + 60 mins writing on pen and paper); would anyone mind having a look at it? (it's in the spoiler below) I found it surprisingly okay, but a question I have is if a Section C has comments, do you have to discuss all of the comments?
Spoiler
Helen Day’s blog entry, ‘The Power of Ink’ (Friday 25 March, 2011), published in her blog ‘Street Beat’, contends in a nostalgic and later, irritated tone that tattoos have lost their meaning over time and become empty cosmetic adornments. In response, four people commented on her blog between March 25 and March 26, each expressing vehement opinions with a variety of tones.
Her use of “mega shopping centre” suggests that tattoos are now associated with consumerism and conformity, which she later emphasises with “tattoo artists set up shop in every Australian shopping strip”. “Suburban housewives” implies that tattoos can be worn by those who stereotypically do not have to endure extended hardship and are able to enjoy the comfort and safety of their home, persuading the readership that tattoos have lost their former association with resilience and subjugation. Her listing of “newsreaders, sitcom stars and upmarket shoppers” creates a sense of ubiquity, as readers feel that people with affluent statuses and occupations are also able to purchase tattoos, diminishing their former exclusivity to lower castes. “Even [Day]” has a tattoo and she “[sees it] as an ornament as ordinary as any other cosmetic quirk”, suggesting that even the wearers have lost respect for their tattoos, further lowering their value. The “Ta Moko” photo contrasts with Day’s disregard, depicting the importance of the “Ta Moho” to “the wearer”, as it “shows… status” and “family heritage”. This contrast accentuates Day’s disdain for tattoos, showing the immense extent to which tattoos have declined.
Kiwi’s comment supports Day’s desire for tattoos to become exclusive; Day is “profoundly [annoyed]” by the tattoos because tattoos’ spread diminishes wearers’ uniqueness while similarly, Kiwi claims, in an abhorred and irate tone, that to imitate a unique Ta Moko is “disgraceful and immoral”. Kiwi’s use of the second person: “…stole these from you” invites the reader to empathise with his derision of those who imitate “Ta Moko”; the referencing of familiar notions like “identity card” and “fingerprints” assist the reader in imagining the outrageous scenario which Kiwi speaks of, since even non-Maori readers would be familiar with these concepts.
Evoking different epochs: “From the earliest times… World War II… 18th century… 20th century” creates a temporal distinction between the days in which tattoos represented “trouble”, “deviance”, “horror”, “defiance” and “satire” and the present, in which “[t]he tattoo has been commodified”, supporting her overarching contention that “the power of ink has diminished” over time, “like, well, a tattoo.”
Day complains that tattoos once represented a daring willingness to revolt against gender stereotypes of “femininity”, but now they serve the contrary. For Day, “tattoos have become sexy”, suggesting that “young women” who wear them now are sexually objectifying themselves and thus, submitting to typical gender roles. As a result, the reader feels that tattoos have lost so much of their original meaning that they have begun to convey meanings opposite to their traditional purposes. Cleanskin plays upon this notion of subversion with his observation that “[so] many dolphin tattoos have faded and stretched into whales”, suggesting that tattoos once connoting grace and agility now connote the opposite – ugliness and torpidity. His proud proclamation that “[he is] a rebel and an individual” yet he has “no tattoos” shows that he believes that there are better ways to express individuality, offering an alternative solution to Day’s lamentations.
Because Day does express her desire for tattoos to regain their former meaning (“Personally, I find this profoundly annoying”), it is in her interests to dissuade readers from getting tattoos. The image of Sam de Brito’s quote and the tattoo on the single shoulder assist Day in achieving this, as the ellipse in “What I’ll tell my children…” connotes regret. This is exacerbated by the unsightly tattoo on his shoulder, which appears to be permanent. “before you’re thirty” suggests that those with sufficient life experience and maturity will not get a tattoo, since it does not make a difference at what age one gets a tattoo as they are lifelong and permanent. Dr AB’s comment further supports Day’s dissuasion, as he evokes trepidation in readers by listing undesirable diseases: “bleeding, hepatitis B, hepatitis C, tetanus”, as well as pain: “significant pain, and a pus-like drainage”; the reader is, as a result, instinctively repelled by tattoos because of the risk they pose.
Day contrasts the formerly “deviant” and “[defiant]” nature of tattoos with the conformist connotations of “fashion’s proprietary mark”, elucidating just how far tattoos have strayed from their meaning “[back] then”. Tash, however, argues that a tattoo can still “show off” “[uniqueness]”, as long as one invests creativity and effort into their tattoo. Her personal anecdote: “I didn’t just go to one of those sleazy places… I designed my own… [no] one else has one like mind” suggests to readers that they too can attain her “[uniqueness]”, especially since she uses very colloquial vernacular such as “nerd” and “talk” to create a casual mood. As a result, she encourages readers to feel that “unique” tattoos are accessible to everyone, regardless of their socioeconomic or educational circumstances.