On Dit - 77.12 - Apocalypse Edition by On Dit

On Dit Adelaide Uni Student Magazine 77.12

apocalypse edition

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

On Dit: proudly sponsored by the Adelaide University Union. On Dit is a publication of the Adelaide University Union. The opinions expressed herein are not necessarily those of the editors, The University of Adelaide, or the Adelaide University Union.

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

contents

AUU Watch Hannah Mattner State of the Union Lavinia Emmett-Grey Current Affairs Shelly Lasslet Local Issues Patrick McCabe Jarrod Fitch Lia Svilians Dit-licious Lily Hirsch Fashion Kate Bird Lara Francis Elise Lopez Film Anders Wotzke Literature Alicia Moraw Music Andrew “subbie of awsome” Auld Countney Day Jimmy (Swanny) Clarke Nightlife Ainsley Campbell Arts Sam Deere Science Anna Ehmann Sport Angus Chisholm TV Lauren Roberts Short Stories Lauren Lovett Poetry Adam Klimkiewicz Pro/Anti-Consumerism Greg Taylor Tristan Adams Vox Pop Ash Lustica Marketing William Fisher Design Daniel Brookes

Well the big 2009 thanks are on page 4 and 5. But for this edition in particular:

thank you

the team

Apocalypse edition 4-5 6-7 8 9 10-11 12-17 20 21 22-23 24-25 26-27 28-29 30-31 32 33 34-35 36-37 38 39-41 42-43 44-45 46-47 48-49 50

The Ed’s goodbye State of the Union AUU Watch Science Current Affairs Film Nightlife Feature Local Issues Procrastination On Dit Awards Short Stories Arts Literature Op Shop Review Das Hair Fashion Ditlicious Music Devils Advocate Poetry Vox Pop Social Fumblings Sport

Lara and Kim at the AUU for all their trust, compliments and patience when dealing with student editors. Subbies that handed up their submissions on time ( you know who you are cause there is only four of you). To anyone who bought us coffee, tea, dinner, snacks during the 5 day binge that created this (may I say rather pretty) mag. And finally, to On Dit for taking us, breaking us and using us anyway you wanted. We love you to death and we’re going to miss you so.

contact us at (08) 8303 5404 On Dit : Phone: Email: ondit@adelaide.edu.au Editors: Steph Walker & Vincent Coleman The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

Vinny

Dear On Dit, It’s been a long year we’ve had together, yet it feels like only a scant few weeks ago that we were working on you feverishly into the night, and then into the next morning. It certainly wasn’t the last time either: we spent a lot of long nights together. Day and night, you’ve more or less consumed my life for the past 12 months, family and friends left by the wayside, disappointment in their eyes as my social calendar slowly morphs into a Cat Stevens song. On Dit, you have brought me little but pain, penury and strife. But I love you. Why else would an otherwise perfectly sane individual throw their lot in with a demanding publication of such loose morals? You may be a needy bitch, but you’re my needy bitch. You’ve given me one of the best years of my life, and one that I will never forget. I’ve met some of the most beautiful, strong and amazing people in my life thanks to you. Like Steph, my loyal co-editor and temporary life-partner without whom I could not have survived the shitfuck of disaster that befell us. Like Will, always there with a palsied smile and a jug of beer snuck out of the Unibar. Like Lavinia and her endless stream of cigarette breaks, or Lauren Lovett’s op-shopped gifts piled in our stairwell, or Jack Smith’s office arts & crafts, or Justin’s straighttalking explanations of student politics (“you guys got fucked”) or any number of other amazing hangers-on who brought us beer, snacks, laughter and most importantly distraction.

Admittedly I’ve also met some of the most heinous bastards I’m ever likely to meet, but I always had my friends by my side when we went to battle, who without we could not have kept going, fight after fight. You gave me something to fight for. Never before have I defended something to such the bitter end, failure simply not being an option. Normally I’m a strong supporter of ‘bollocks to this – I’m out’ when things get really fucked, but not with you On Dit. We simply kept going, picking up whoever fell, knowing if it was I that there’d be someone there for me. We’ve had some good times together. Remember the film festival when we drank all the beer, wine and champagne and made dicks of ourselves in front of Margaret Pomeranz? Actually, we did that quite a bit – the free booze and being a dick bit anyway. You put me on my first plane flight, and on my first expensespaid conference. You also introduced me to the world of vending machine meals, and taught me that energy drinks are just like drugs – the first 2 really get you going, but after that it’s just postponing the inevitable crash. You’re like that slightly older girlfriend you had over summer who taught you how to roll your own cigarettes and introduced you to Joy Division. If I look back at the time’s we’ve had together I can barely recognize myself - literally! I was just looking through our Photobooth archives and fuck, do Steph and I look young 167 photos ago. Or should I say, fuck - don’t we look old 167 photos on…

The final

Seriously though, I’ve seen Steph and myself grow from insecure and nonconfrontational to proud editors who are somewhat haphazardly happy and willing to direct anyone, in a position of power or not, up against the wall (motherfuckers) – constructive criticism be damned. We love you On Dit, and god help anyone who tries to screw with you. They will be dealt with, by any means necessary. More than that, I rediscovered my love of writing. Combined with my ill-advised lifestyle and self-deprecating sense of humour, Social Fumblings was born, to surprising acclaim - now a (soon to be) popular website (www.socialfumbling. com) and ‘zine. On Dit, I wore you like a suit of armour – albeit a rather heavy one – and I’m not sure what I’ll do without your weight. How I juggled fulltime study, 60+ hours/ week of On Dit, a fulltime job and a social life I don’t know – wait, I didn’t. But we damn well tried didn’t we? I achieved more than I thought was possible of a single person, and it’s something I hope I’ll take with me. On Dit, you may have crippled my academic record, set back my Credit card by $4000, created a sleeping pattern averaging 5 hours a night and put me on a 3 pack a week Marlboro habit, but I love you and the joy you bring me, like the Stockholm Syndrome’d editors we are. There will never be anything quite like you in my life again I fear. We’ll always basement.

have

Yours haggardly, Vincent Editor in Chiefy-Chief.

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

George

Murray

l a i r o t i d e ’s r o edit

It was only moments ago when I was worrying about how to write my final editorial when Vincent burst into the office with Red Bull and walked his cowboy shoed steps to my desk saying “You know, when this is done, we should have an uncomfortable dinner where we have nothing to talk about.” From now on when I talk about On Dit, it will be in an overwhelmingly nostalgic past tense and I am going to miss it more than I ever imagined. The fact that we will not be continuing next year fills me with a level of terror not unlike a seven year old who’s just stopped being breast fed. I never thought I’d miss it this much, because we had such a bumpy year. We were given our positions late, Vinny & myself were all working a great deal over summer and then first edition hit us. In our collective 7 years being with On Dit, we still felt inexperienced. Yet the 8 cans of Mother and the Nanna Diver apricot treats got us through the situation. And I’m so happy we didn’t surrender then. A 52-page magazine couldn’t fit the people we want to thank. Sincerely, they have been Mother-Teresa helpful. I would not have survived if it wasn’t for the past editors - especially Clare Wald (07), Nat & Cat (08). 2007 & 2008 were good years for On Dit and the ex-eds made sure to leave things better than they found it and I love them for it. The AUU is not “The Man” when it comes to On Dit. I have even affectionately nicknamed them all - L-dog (Lara), Bruno (Leanne Bruno) and Marissa...I usually call you by your normal name, for the sake of consistency I shall hereby call you M-Izzle. The help of L-Dog, Bruno and M-Izzle can only be rivalled by Kimbo. Sitting up at AUU reception helping students every day, not only does she go out of her way to help us, but she helps everyone in this

Steph

way. Much appreciation to them for not getting up in On Dit’s grill when we print pornographic images. Now a mention of the AUU would not be right unless I decided (and was possibly forced) to write about Lavinia Emmet-Grey, that student president that editors so commonly clash with. Lavinia has been one of the few people who didn’t rip away at the lining of the good ship SS. ON DIT like some sort of epic iceberg this year. In terms of On Dit, she told us how to sacrifice goats properly when we go to board meetings. Cheers. Now to family - I could not have taken on this snuffleupagus-sized role without you. Mum does my laundry and listens to my boring rants. Dad takes me to lunch and makes me things (like a fancy green bike!). My brother, Garth, came in on his birthday to help us finish edition 1. He also made the Metropolis cover even though people pay him to do things like that and the best thing - he would get angry on my behalf when I was downtrodden. Thank you for supporting me while I saw you for dinner once a week (if you were lucky). Edition 1 was not our only challenge however. There were fake On Dit websites up in the start of the year, which while making us feel a little bit cool, was not overly appreciated. We lost a co-editor and printing prices made it difficult for this here 12th edition to even be published. We’ve had some controversial articles (and images) and I won’t go into the academic and political clusterfuck that has changed the way I see student politics and the education system. While I love my media degree, I can honestly say I’ve learnt more from my year as Editor. I am lucky enough to have a set of friends who have stocks in each other. We are so invested in each others’ lives that when people asked how On Dit was going - I

wouldn’t be the one to reply. Food was cooked for me, social activities were timed with my schedule, office seats, plants, fairy lights and art were bought on my behalf for the office. Goblets and punches were thrown in my honor. I cannot articulate how lucky I am, but to borrow a phrase, and use it in the nicest way possible - my friends are ‘mad cunts’. A big cheers to them for sticking with me and pushing me through the snakes & ladders year that is now finishing up. I didn’t know Vinny very well at all when we decided to run for On Dit 2009. It was either when he accidently flicked his toothbrush water into my eye while we were at a conference in Melbourne, or when he pushed me through a window and dislocated my knee that we grew to be involuntarily inseparable. We have the relationship of two very reluctant siblings. Like brothers and sisters we have been known to be slightly protective of one another - just as often as we have been known to be sick of one another. Our usual arguments over On Dit end with a very sarcastic “fine, as long as we’re all happy!” Fortunately our moods never run in the same order, when Vincent is experiencing a pre-press rage, I am relaxed, and when I have a Hingenburg-esque meltdown, he is relatively calm. As a result, we have talked eachother down from meltdowns, resignations and the occasional ledge. And finally, to the loyal reader and our fantastic subbies and contributors - thank you for what has been one of the best most interesting years of my life. Publishing your work/giving you something to read has made me very happy. Love and Helvetica, Steph Editor in Chiefy-Chief.

The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

his is the final article I shall write as Union President.

I have the rare and genuine opportunity of walking away from an organisation knowing it’s in a better state than when I started. I hope that a part of that is due to my involvement. Nearly every single day as President, I have had to argue for the relevance and legitimacy of student organisations, specifically. I’ve had to argue with Young Liberals who don’t see the point in independent welfare services who can advocate on behalf of students in a fight against the university. I’ve had to argue against members of the university bureaucracy who think that student voice is adequately listened to by handing out coffee cards in exchange for answering a one question survey. It is an argument I wish I didn’t have to make, but it is one that I have only gained further conviction in making. Whether it’s the 6000 students who are members of social clubs, or the 2500 students who play sports, or the 5500 student per year who need our welfare officers, or the 1100 students who we helped match with jobs in 2008 - I have an unshakeable faith in the relevance and significance of the Adelaide University Union to students’ lives. Let me spare a paragraph for my comrades. Only a matter of 3 years ago, there was only one or two student representatives still involved who I believe shared my faith in the AUU and were passionately committed to defending the rights and interests of students. Despite the many occasions over the past 2 years when I wished to take a factional line in this column, I have refrained from doing so. However, I hope that you’ll allow me this one opportunity. To all of the IndyGo and Activate candidates in the 2009 elections – thank you for being so amazing. I am proud that I have got such inspiring people involved in the student organisation. I feel that the AUU and the Student Rep Council are being left in the hands of people who are enthusiastic, committed and genuine in their desire to change the campus and the world for the better. A part of me envies the fights they will face. The University is poised to embark on radical changes to course structure which at their worst could see schools merge or close and entire courses shifting to postgraduate level, which would have drastic implications for HECS eligibility and access to income support. 6

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

The face of the campuses is soon to change with the redevelopment of Union House and Hughes Plaza as key features – the fight will be to ensure student space, not retail space. At the same time the higher education system is in a state of flux with deregulation, Centrelink reform and funding changes all on the federal. The National Wine Centre’s control over space and the food outlets on campus continues to ensure a sub-standard provision of food on this campus, as well as an almost malicious attitude to student-run events. I am envious of the challenges but more than that, I am envious that there are now enough passionate, committed people to fight them. But it’s not my fight anymore. There are many individuals in the university who have on occasion been very helpful to me – you know who you are. However, there are two individuals I wish to particularly thank: Michael Physick, the most charming of bureaucrats, and Gary Martin, former AUU President and a true comrade of the students. I want thank the AUU staff: Lara Mieskuc, Leanne Bruno, Kim Fereday, Marissa Lumasag, Chris Gent, Vicki McCoy, Eirean James, Pranee Sae-Teng, Cynthia Dennis, Jeff Glue and David Coluccio. These are the unsung heroes of the AUU. On a pers onal note I would like to thank Fletcher O’Leary, Ashleigh Lustica, Ashleigh Brook, Justin Kentish, Kim Dowling, Lauren Moulds, Helen Chadwick, Hayden Tronnolone, Hannah Mattner, Steph and Vinny from On Dit, John Pezy, Sarah Anderson and Rhiannon Newman. These are the people who provided the support that meant that I wasn’t curled up in a corner crying into a bottle of bourbon, or at least not every night. Or alternatively they helped me get so liquored up that I couldn’t feel the pain anymore. Student politics history is often only passed down through oral history and in tattered, bound, slightly smelly editions of On Dit. In 5 years of student representation, these are the names worthy of remembering: Rowan Nicholson, Tristan Mahoney, Bek Cornish, David Pearson, Jennifer Turner, Joshua Rayner, Rhiannon Newman and Paris Dean. I don’t like all these people - some I would regard as absolute enemies - but they are the titans of the

student movement whose triumphs and failures have inspired and informed my life. Soon no one will be involved who will remember them all, and the mark, both good and bad, that they left on the AUU. To assorted douchebags, the self-interested, careerist, arrogant, right wing and/or lazy - and you know who you are - you remind me why I’ve stayed in student politics so long. To make sure people like you don’t win. I thank you for being my eternal source of inspiration. I also thank you for losing. Every few weeks as President, somebody asks me a question about student apathy. A year ago, I didn’t have the answer and would simply become defensive. But as my term progressed, I came to the firm belief that students and young people generally are not apathetic. We accept this label without question and yet there is little to support it. The vast majority of undergraduates are working, which means they might not have as much spare time to devote to their convictions. And yet our generation volunteers in more ways than any generation before us. Students hold a special place in the world – we can be the trigger or the means for sweeping social change. Student activists played a critical role in the Spring of Nations in the 1840s, with revolutions across Europe. Students have participated in some of the greatest moments and struggles in history – the Moratorium marches against the Vietnam war, the fall of the Berlin Wall, Tiannamen Square, the Civil Rights movements in America, the Stonewall riots over the persecution of queer people. In Paris, May 1968, student protests brought the de Gaulle government to its knees.

It’s not just overseas – 5000 students in Melbourne gathered to prevent the all-white South African rugby team, the Springboks, from playing during the fight against Apartheid. Former Queensland Premier Joh Bjelke- Petersen announced a month-long state of emergency due to protests over the same issue which included 4500 staff and students conducting a sit in for a week. Flinders University held a month long occupation over the Vietnam War in 1974. In 2003, 7000 South Australian students protested over the 25% HECS increase – about 20% of the SA student body at that time. This year saw hundreds of students pretesting the racism faced by Indian students in Melbourne. I believe utterly in the ability of students to effect social change. I only hope that in my time as AUU President, I have been able to protect and nurture our capacity to do so. At least every week for the past 2 years, I walked home past the Cloisters, where under a tree, in the middle of a courtyard built through student fundraising, stands a plaque. ‘The brave and faithful dead have flung the torch of life, and we owe it to their memories to see that it burns as brightly when we pass it on. We should honour their memory by making the University Union what it really should be – the link that binds us all together.’ Vice Chancellor Professor William Mitchell, March 1919 I hope that I have been able to pass on that torch burning as brightly.

Lavinia Emmett-Grey

The student movement is not a thing of the past. An article from The Times in the UK in February this year said, “In recent weeks, British students on 24 campuses have staged “occupations” of faculty buildings.” In December 2008, University of Athens students stared down riot police over education policy. In January, students stormed the Iceland parliament. In Paris this year students went on strike, removing chairs to prevent classes, all over the quality of their education. Just last month, ten thousand students rallied at the University of California over the defunding of the University, while students are driving the continued protests for democracy in Iran.

The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

ssignments are swiftly coming up and the semester is drawing to a close, but the myriad debates within the AUU Board continue. I’m sure that regular readers will be completely amazed to hear that the Overseas Students’ Association is currently the AUU’s biggest problem. The OSA didn’t help to organise Multicultural Week at all (even though it’s one of their main responsibilities for the year), leaving it entirely to AUU staff. This re-ignited one of the Board’s favourite debates: whether or not to put the OSA on notice. Despite the passionate discussion, this is basically the equivalent of an impotent shaken fist, as the AUU doesn’t want to lose any more affiliates (apart from possibly the PGSA). Despite the relief at the election of a new OSA president in April, the OSA has not improved much, with Eric Fan Yang revealing to Board that they couldn’t find a time to discuss Multicultural Week. The Board discussed a range of options, but the final decision seems to be to let sleeping dogs lie, with the AUU working instead of the OSA to provide representation and services, much like it has in recent years.

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

As General Manager David Coluccio pointed out, the Board’s responsibility is to the students, and having the OSA around doesn’t restrict them from fulfilling that. The biggest problem with this is that it limits the representation for international students, though the SRC’s new EthnoCultural Officer Ramanathan Thurairajoo, should fill some of the gap. In the same meeting, the National Union of Students’ request for a fee of $5000 (as opposed to $3000 last year) was also raised. This triggered an argument between the AUU old guard, Lavinia Emmett-Grey, Rhiannon Newman and Paris Dean. Paris argued that the Board was basically letting NUS write a blank cheque each year, whereas Rhiannon thought it was a reasonable amount for the services offered. Lavinia sat in the middle, saying that the South Australian NUS branch was too underfunded to give the Union enough in return for the amount.

This argument might have progressed into a resolution of some sort for a counter offer, but for Yasmin Freschi’s motion to end the meeting, which won the support of the majority of Board, most of whom don’t share the fascination that pre-VSU student politicians have with NUS. There are a number of interesting issues – such as the University’s plans for demolishing Union Hall, allegedly turning Scott Theatre into a teaching space and what the left will do with their strong hold on Board after November 30th – that will make for interesting watching in the next few months, but from the On Dit pages, this is it for 2009. Subscribe to adelaidestudentpolitics.blogspot.com if you want to stay up to date over the holidays. I’ll be gone next year, so from me personally, goodbye and good luck.

Hannah Mattner

e e i nc

sc T

here are a lot of people out there determined to believe that the world is about to end. If every self styled prophet warning us of impending global doom got news coverage, we’d be heading for the hills/cellar/nuclear fallout shelter a few times a week. Thankfully, though, it seems that only the naysayers that manage to cause mass suicides or sex crime lawsuits get their five minutes of fame, while other messiahs/Chosen Ones/trapped alien souls languish in obscurity, with only a few brainwashed chums to share their journey to the new world. Most apocalypse theories seem to centre on the sinful perishing in fire and brimstone, with occasional appearances of some dudes on horses. My house is regularly visited by local Jehovah’s Witnesses who seem determined to save me from this terrible fate by pressing informative literature upon me until I change my immoral ways. However, I prefer premarital sex to ankle length dresses and docile servility, so I’ll take my chances. Besides, I think a zombie takeover is more likely anyway (hence that pitchfork you might have seen in the back of my car). One theory that has recently achieved public notoriety is based on an “apocalypse date” supposedly predicted by the Mayans. The 21st of December 2012 will be the last day of the current cycle of an ancient Mayan calendar called the Long Count calendar.

with Anna*

The Long Count calendar was used by many pre-Columbian Mesoamerican cultures to keep count of long periods of time. The Mayan Long Count Calendar (amongst other things) recorded the time since a mythical date on which the Mayans believed the world was created, in 3114 BCE. Actually, the Mayans believed that this world was the fourth to exist, and that at the end of this Long Count cycle we would enter the Fifth World. What this actually means is (for some reason) hotly disputed. The most prominent (also, for the record, the least informed) group believes that some global catastrophe will occur, plunging the world into chaos and effectively destroying our society. Another group believes that something big will happen, but that it will be some positive spiritual change, and the human race will enter a new era of enlightenment. Presumably, we’ll turn to a vegan diet and practice yoga for eight hours a day*, before chilling out with some angels, channelling our energies and healing our higher selves*. And of course, there are thousands of shades of grey between each of those theories. A particularly intriguing one states that a secret planet will collide with the Earth, but doesn’t mention how this planet will get from its current location, out past Pluto (which is, on average, 5.7 billion kilometres away) to us.

Oh, well. I’m sure once the aliens get here they’ll happily explain it to us. If, though, you’re like me, a boring old unbeliever without so much as a spirit guide to exercise the imagination, you might find the sceptical viewpoint – that nothing of consequence will happen on 21/12/12 – a little more credible. It’s worth noting that almost all of the actual experts on ancient Mayan civilisation dismiss the disaster theories as bullshit, and that the strongest advocates of them are making a (pretty sweet) buck out of it all. Also, it’s totally unclear what the Mayans themselves thought would happen at the end of the current cycle, so anybody trying to interpret their beliefs nowadays is probably a self important jackass. Not this guy, though http://www.howtosurvive2012.com - he’s obviously legit.

Anna Ehmann Disclaimer: I ain’t dissing yoga. I love yoga. The only thing that comes between me and it is that I just can’t do the freaking Wheel. Disclaimer II: I am dissing the idea of “healing angel guides” and whatnot. Feel free to email the editors about my disrespect of your beliefs, who will surely file your complaint accordingly.

* eds note - thank you for a spectacular year Anna, couldn’t have gotten through 12 editions & elections without you. The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

Sooner or Later S Fargher and D Fewtrell All you can do is watch them play, those few passers by while Dante’s inferno is lapping at our toes. The social apocalypse beginning as Cyrus’s spawn continues to make music. The end is near but no one cares. It matters more that you’re deliberately blinkered and consciously fear merging in traffic - not what you’ll be doing the last second that the apocalypse hits you… square in the face. Apocalypse will not hit you in the side… or just spontaneously… it will hit you square in the face. What brought us to the brink of this abyss and where can we go from here? We all know Fredo had something to do with it, but who cares about the tale of a charmless man. Sure he fumbled the gun and cried a little but that’s no excuse to send the guy to Mo Green. Its true you really like the Smiths and listen to their albums more than you care to admit, though here you are at the end of everything and that’s what you’re thinking about? These actions are not causal, though a select few upon which we, the growing populous, continue to do are heretical heresies. Hence we find ourselves looking back at the dense arc of human existence, contemplating a singular point where it all ceases. But, the ever human and persistent question remains – why? Chicken Tetrazzini This seductive dish mocks even the strongest man. It causes you to do frightful things. Cheat on your girlfriend for over three years with out even knowing it - hell you were drunk right? However all this leaves them with is the question “I don’t know what she doin’, but I know it has something to do with that chicken tetrazzini.”

Oprah Zeus controlled the skies and all below it. Oprah controls nothing as nothing is below her.

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

Panel quiz shows Inanity is a four-letter word and Buddha said it was so. Bob Barker knew this and whilst openly weighing his soul against the spinning momentum of a fortunate wheel – he always, always, knew. Lucky to have lasted – statistically that is. Instead we all play this wheel, with the forays of indifferent personalities into all areas – important and not – and the untraceable segues into nothingness.

the Tom Ripleys For all the dreamers who looked and wished they could have had something, but had neither the courage nor the tenacity to embrace the opportunities that would have afforded them it.

Skynet The song ‘Come on Eileen’ essentially predicts the rise of skynet and subsequent machine tide. Think of it – tooh-rahloo-ri-ay. So they’re going the distance, they’re going for control. And you’ll be sitting post-conflict, listening to Eileen on the shortwave and picking at your crooked teeth wondering where it all went wrong.

the fatuous idols The false idols of our time are on upon us. The prophets that climb atop via a veil of inspiration sewn with misconception and empty promises. The Dan Browns, the Michael Bays, the Dirk Digglers and Jimmy Hoffas. If only they could all be like Joel McHale. Somewhere in between love and hatred, ignorance and self-awareness, and pouring cloudy apple juice over a beautiful smile. Not too mention Chihuahuas in sombreros.

the ignorant trail blazers When we stare down a road and consider the obstacles and potential hazards, we cock our heads to the side and crack a smile. We know the path is well-worn and many have trodden its rammed earth. The dirt still warm from their soles and we smile at the connectedness of everything. Many don’t though. Some see the road and think they are the first to lay their prints upon it. They will destroy everything.

So the skyline holds little hope and through the glazed heat mirage images will flicker arousing emotion from the world passed. However it isn’t all despair, while your head lies weak, the human heart continues beating. Apocalypse or no apocalypse the conquering and determined resistance of man will endeavour to the very end. For it is a competitive and resilient game of tug of war - its all about the inches we grasp at, the tiny victories. The inches all around you, and those few inches determining your fate. Come what may, be the now and future King.

The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

lm with Anders, Film with Anders, Film with Anders, Film with Anders, Film with Anders, Film with Anders, Film with Anders, Film with And

Moon

In the future according to ‘Moon’, aliens have not come to annihilate us, machines have not turned against humanity and meteorites are not on a collision course with the White House. Instead, the single biggest threat facing the hero is himself. In other words, ‘Moon’ is the kind sci-fi film you rarely see any more; subtle and intelligent. Consider it the binary opposite of recent sci-fi offerings like ‘Transformers 2’, which on paper sounds like the highest praise imaginable. However, when you take into account that the opposite of “too much” is “too little”, you’ll begin to understand where ‘Moon’ falters. As a film with more brains than brawn, ‘Moon’ is evidently not a product of Hollywood. Instead, the credits lie with British director Duncan Jones, who is better known as the son of David Bowie. You wouldn’t know this was Jones’ feature debut; it’s an extremely well polished film, despite being made on a shoestring budget, and features an outstanding near-solo performance from Sam Rockwell. The setup is as unnerving as it is mesmerizing; Sam Bell (Rockwell), a

Nearing the end of his contract, Sam starts to experience hallucinations, causing him to crash his Moon Rover into a Helium-3 harvester. He wakes up safe in the infirmary shortly after, but the question is, how’d he get there?

solitary employee of Lunar Industries’ moon station, oversees the harvesting of Helium-3 energy from the moons soil, the world’s primary source of energy. Back on Earth, Sam’s wife Tess eagerly awaits his return as downed communications on the space station has limited their interaction. As such, Sam’s sanity is maintained by a railed, schmaltzily-voiced robot named GERTY (Kevin Spacey) – think Marvin the Paranoid Android on opposite day.

Julie & Julia I feel it important to state up front that the kitchen and I do not get along. While we inevitably cross paths from time to time, I try not to make eye contact let alone a meal. This might explain why ‘Julie & Julia’ didn’t remotely appease my appetite. The film spends so much time celebrating the art of cooking, it forgets the need to be dramatic, romantic or funny. It’s not a drama, as there is hardly a moment of drama to speak of (conflict, what conflict?). It’s not a romance, as everyone in the film is already happily partnered up. It’s not even a comedy, as the funniest scene on offer is merely a replay of Dan Aykroyd’s impersonation of celebrity cook Julia Child in a Saturday Night Live skit. It is, however, a biography. Two of them. The first concerns phone operator Julie Powell (Amy Adams), who lives in a dingy apartment in Queens, New York. Combing her love of writing and cooking, she starts a blog labeled The Julie/Julia project, where she sets out to cook all 524 recipes of Julie Child’s 12

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

★ ★ ★1/2

It’s a sublime opening act, but once the burning question is answered, the meekness of the story becomes all too apparent as we realise there’s not all that much left to ponder. While Nathan Parker’s screenplay is far from a one trick pony, it seems to make a conscious effort to be as anticlimactic as possible, favouring mood over momentum. This leisurely tempo is perpetuated by the deliberate, yet frustrating, lack of continuity editing; too often it felt as though we’re watching Sam move about from room to room in real time. While I’m glad the film doesn’t follow the likes of ‘District 9’ or ‘Sunshine’ and go out on a violent, CGI-assisted bang, ‘Moon’ goes so far in the other direction, it slowly ceases to be entertaining.

Words by Anders Wotzke

★★ famous cookbook in just 365 days. Spliced intermittently between Julie’s blogging babble is Child’s (Meryl Streep) journey of self discovery in 1950’s France. Easily the better half of the film if not only for the vibrant Paris backdrop, it follows the effervescent gentle giant as she takes up cooking lessons at Le Cord En Bleu culinary school to see if she enjoys making food as much as she does eating it.

Amy Adams can usually charm her way out of any situation, but under the weight of director/screenwriter Nora Ephron’s (‘Sleepless in Seattle’) pen, Julie’s character lacks the fiery spark needed to be the affable “bitch” her blog makes her out to be. Far zestier is Meryl Streep’s performance as the larger-thanlife Julia Child. But if you’re not familiar with the real life Child -- which I suspect will be the case with a vast majority of Australians -- then Streep will likely come across as an overly caricaturised, helium-drunk eccentric. Whether Streep has nailed Child’s persona is irrelevant; her character began to drive me up the wall. Kudos to her diplomat husband Paul Child (Stanley Tucci) for putting up with her for all those years. But are we really supposed to believe that the two never fought once? They didn’t according to Ephron’s screenplay, and maybe if she stopped force-feeding us buttered fluff and served up something with actual bite we’d have seen that.

Words by Anders Wotzke

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Fame Those people over in Tinseltown have been running out of ideas since, well, forever – but with remakes coming ever sooner to the next generation of cinema-goers, how are audiences not expected to go with what’s offered to them? At the time of writing, kids in Australia on school holidays are being offered family-oriented features, as is the norm. While ‘Fame’ may sit on the edge of this boundary because of a more mature theme, this “re-imagining” of the 1980 cult hit still aims to appeal to a younger audience. It doesn’t have the “sex factor” of ‘Centre Stage’, ‘Step Up’ or even TV’s ‘Glee’, which from what we’ve seen is shaping up to be a more comedic (but still intense) look at the desires of performers. While those who’ve seen the original are sure to have different opinions and comparisons to those who haven’t, ‘Fame’ in its 2009 form doesn’t appear as a remake - but it fails to make a significant mark.

★ ★ 1/2

see immediately that these aren’t your average kids, and they come from all walks of life, but the snippets we get seem too fragmented and at times aren’t enough to make us care. In the film’s defense, most characters are warm enough to keep at least a mild interest; the Denise (Naturi Naughton)-Malik (Collins Pennie)-Victor (Walter Perez) subplot of producing a hip-hop track holds well, while the romance factor comes through heartthrob Marco (Asher Book) and Jenny (Kay Panabaker).

‘Fame’s’ four-year timeline restricts most character development as a bunch of talented performers (in all fields) are selected to study at New York’s School of Performing Arts. We

Words by Katina Vangopoulos

Mao’s Last Dancer

★★★

During the oppressive Mao era, boy from peasant family gets plucked from obscurity and is sent skyrocketing onto ballet stages. Boy travels to America, achieves stardom and falls in love, but is facing a forced return to his homeland. Boy faces dilemma – will he ever see his family again? That essentially wraps up Bruce Beresford’s ‘Mao’s Last Dancer’, which is based on the true story of Chinese ballet dancer Li Cunxin (Chi Cao). Cao performs admirably as both actor and dancer, while familiar face on the ballet-film scene Amanda Schull (‘Centre Stage’) plays Li’s American love interest and first wife Elizabeth Mackey. Stevenson is also enjoyable to watch in his role of the Houston Ballet Company artistic director – the quasi-father figure he plays to Li seems to suit him perfectly. Other actors – and I say actors lightly, as most are actually dancers – do their job without fanfare. In fact, I think it is fanfare that the film lacks. It is a compelling story, but at times it is just not told in a compelling-

‘Fame’ briefly ventures into darker territory for one of its characters, but the seriousness throughout the film brings more sinister expectations that aren’t delivered. Director Kevin Tancharoen immediately makes us aware that there are remnants of the original with the theme song opening the new film but the present setting soon kicks in; gangsta rap and hip-hop are heavy influences, along with new media through Neil (Paul Iacono, who brings much needed comic relief). The choreography is good enough, while the visuals are colourful and engaging and the music is fun. Fleshing out the characters and story would’ve been more effective had Tancharoen gone for a longer running time. It’s strange how filmmakers think you can’t stay interested more than 90 minutes – a note to Hollywood: if the film is good enough, audiences will go along. Learn from the mistake.

emotional, but the film lacks the drama and passion that would really elevate its status. It is not necessarily a bad film - it is just not what it could be. That said, there was scattered applause in the packed out cinema as the credits started to roll. Maybe I just missed something?

enough manner. The emotion is there – Li’s determination to dance, his insistence on staying in America, and his fear for his family – but is often weak and awkward, much like Li’s adaption to American society. His naïve grasp of language and culture provides some light hearted elements in the film, and his fear of capitalism and speaking out against the government highlights the restriction indoctrinated into people under Chairman Mao. Yet difficult issues are dealt with lightly, while clichéd metaphors and flashbacks mar what could have been an incredibly insightful film. The story is deep and

Words by Stephanie Lyall

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The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

Whip It!

★★★★

For a film that has all the inner workings of a generic sports movie, ‘Whip It’ somehow avoids being one. Narrative wise, it’s as cliché as it gets; absentminded protagonist finds purpose in an unlikely sport, joins an underdog team against the will of their parents and eventually edges their team into the finals. We’ve seen it countless times before, but ‘Whip It’ has something going for it that most other sport movies don’t; sheer, unbridled girl power. It’s exactly the kind of movie you’d expect Drew Barrymore would pick for her directorial debut. Despite recently appearing in a slew of rom-coms, the actress has long been a feminist poster girl, playing headstrong heroines in films like ‘Poison Ivy’ and ‘Charlies Angels’. Now that she’s behind the camera, Barrymore has passed the torch onto Ellen Page, who thankfully tones down her overly nuanced performance in Juno to authentically portray alternative teenager Bliss Cavendar. Bliss is unhappily living her mother’s (Marcia Gay Harden, brilliant) dream as a pageant beauty queen and is otherwise bored stiff in her isolated Texas town. When she learns of the Women’s roller derby league in a nearby city, she secretly heads off to catch the action with her best friend Pash (Alia Shawkat). She falls in love with the sport, and signs up to a team called the Hurl Scouts after showing unmatched speed on the rink during trials. But as Bliss becomes more involved with the league and her aspiring indie-rocker boyfriend Oliver (Landon Pigg), she struggles to keep her alternate life a secret from her parents.

Whip It essentially takes the tom-boyish attitude of ‘Bend it Like Beckham’ and moulds it around a tried-andtrue ‘Mighty Ducks’ structure. The drama that takes place in-between the exciting derby matches might be highly predictable, but it’s surprisingly convincing, which is a credit to the

strong performances by everyone involved. Page’s romantic subplot with newcomer Landon Pigg might be unnecessary to the core story, but it’s handled so amiably, it makes for a welcomed diversion. The message here is one worth disseminating amongst teenagers, as it suggests that you can be an autonomous soul without being disrespectful to your family. Ultimately, ‘Whip It’ is a light, crowd-pleasing film that kicks off a promising directorial career for Drew Barrymore, the queen of grrrl power in Hollywood.

Words by Anders Wotzke

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Interview with actor

Costas Mandylor of Saw VI

Words by Anders Wotzke

Australian born actor Costas Mandylor stars as Mark Hoffman in Saw VI, the latest installment in the highest grossing horror franchise in history. Introduced to audiences in Saw III, Costas’ character was supposedly a heroic detective determined to bring an end to Jigsaw’s reign of terror, but by the end of the fourth film, he was revealed to be the sadistic killer’s accomplice. While Costas was in Australia promoting Saw VI -- which was still going through the final stages of post-production back in Hollywood -- I had a chance to talk with him about how he has handled the transition from good guy to villain, why he believes the franchise has been such a huge commercial success and what he thinks about the film’s dissenting critics. ANDERS WOTZKE: When you first took on the role of Detective Hoffman in Saw III, did you have any idea that that you’d still be around three films later? COSTAS MANDYLOR: At the beginning, there was an idle threat that I would be involved in a further one. But you never really know. You know how Hollywood and their promises are. But as they went along, they found room for me, and I just got deeper and deeper into the thick of it. So I’m now embedded. Has it been hard to fluidly develop your character, and get a grip on his underlying psyche, without knowing beforehand that he was only masquerading as a heroic detective and was really an evil psychopath all along? Not really because at the beginning I didn’t put pressure on myself. All I wanted to do was be a good guy,

and if things turned, it would be a surprise to me. And if they could surprise me, they would surprise the audience, you know? So far that’s worked. I didn’t even look at the forth script because I didn’t want to manipulate the audience. If they were surprised, then I’ve done my job. And they were in general. I’ve always approached it with the mentality that this ship is sailing beautifully by itself, so just don’t screw it up. You’ve now been at the hands of three different Saw directors; Darren Bousman, David Hackl and now Kevin Greutert. How differently has each of these directors approached your character? Well they all felt like I was responsible enough to handle the bulk of what I’m trying to do. They’ve all been very dedicated to the product and they’ve all been there to help me,

and that’s what a director is for. So you know, I’ve been pleased to play with all three of them. What’s something new that Kevin Greutert has bought to the table? You know what, every one of them has a different personality and different touch. Kevin, although a little quieter than the others, still got the jokes when they were around. He was very thorough. As a matter of fact, they were all thorough, they just had different ways of approaching it. Kevin’s a bit different to them because he’s probably seen every frame of four Saw movies [as the editor], so you know, his eye knows every nook and cranny. So yeah, he was very thorough and was fun to do it with. He gave a damn, you know? He has proven himself to be worthy.

Continues next page -> The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

So what’s in store for Mark Hoffman in Saw VI? Oh well I can’t say much, cause I don’t even know what’s in and what’s out of the film. But I know this; he’s in up to his neck. He gets into a little bit of trouble because he’s been given this responsibility by Jigsaw, and I think that he might be just a touch out of his league to handle it as well as Jigsaw did. So things get a little messy, which I think will make the audience very happy. Has Tobin Bell [Jigsaw] given you any advice on how to continue his character’s legacy as a Saw villain? No, I’m afraid of copycatting anybody because then you don’t feel like you’re original. But I have listened to Tobin on the way he approached the role, and he really cares about it. I just wanted to keep a certain standard. But you know what, I am different to him as a man and as a character. And my own flavour is either going to make it work, or it’s not. But I certainly paid attention to his work ethic, and where he’s approaching it from. But you don’t want to try and copy anyone; there’s a great saying in this great book [The 48 Laws of Power] that says ‘never try and outshine the master’... just become your own.

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Six films in and the franchise doesn’t seem to be showing any signs of slowing down. What do you think keeps audience coming back for more? Obviously something that original will keep you going for a certain amount of time. It’s powerful and eerie, but I think it has stayed afloat because it’s clever. There are so many parts of the puzzle that people are trying to work out, from the philosophical side to the “oh you remember that? That’s what that meant!” kind of thing, you know? They’re very specific, and they’re smart. Maybe a little bit crazy, but a lot of crazy people are smart, and a lot of smart people are crazy. All I know is that if it was just blood and guts, it would start to die. But it’s not dying. The box office success of the film speaks for itself, but critically speaking, the franchise hasn’t been as well received. Do you try and ignore the critics, or take on board what they have to say? Well, every now and then critics have something to say that makes sense, but then so do you and so do I. You know what, I’m a big believer in letting the people speak. And if I don’t like the movie, I don’t like it. And if you don’t like the movie, you don’t like it. But you know what, it’s still a free world and people can do what they want. As far as critics go, I think they should hail it as a masterpiece because it’s just unique. I don’t care what the genre is, if it’s quality it’s quality.

I think the originality of the traps has had a lot to do with the series’ success. Out of all the Saw films so far, what’s been your favourite trap? I remember one trap in Saw V at the beginning of the film with the pendulum. I watched it with two thousand people in an auditorium in Las Vegas where they had the premiere and I didn’t know what to expect. At the end of that trap when it goes to black, it was like – people went through the roof. Like when someone scores a winning goal in the world cup in the last minute, or in the last second in basketball. It was huge. That stands out to me because people dug it that much. But there are a lot of traps that are really good and really clever. The traps we’ve seen from the trailer for Saw VI look quite interesting, especially the one dubbed ‘the carousel’. Is there anything you can tell us about that? I can’t say much because I haven’t seen anything. Because when they do those traps, I’m getting ready for whatever is next. But I can tell you something funny; one of the actors – a big, strong black man – wanted a drink with me the night before. So I took him out to drink, and you know, we really turned one on. But for the next two days, he had to be on the carousel, spinning around constantly. And ah, I had the last laugh on that one. [laughs] He literally got sick!

I was listening to the audio commentary of Saw V recently & director David Hackl was describing this scene where your character was supposed to drop his keys & almost be hit by a car while drunk, but it got cut because you couldn’t get the stunt right. He said they teased you about for the rest of the shoot! What do you have to say about that? Well all truth be known, everybody in Canada drinks like they do in Australia. And I’ve been dubbed by the crew as one of the great actors to drink with and have fun with, but I’ve been told that I play the worst drunken-hit-by-a-car-wannabeactor ever. [laughs] But yeah, that’s somewhere on the cutting room floor. You seem to be doing a lot of grizzly, dark films at the moment. Can we expect to see you in a romantic comedy anytime soon? Oh let me tell you something; I will never stay in the one genre. I’ve been dedicated to Saw because it’s been good to me. But yeah, do I want to do a love story, do I want to do a comedy, do I want to put on a toga and ride a horse. Yeah, for sure! But you got to take the shots when you get them. And this is opening a couple of doors for me, so I will be ready to seize the moment when it comes. Is there a dream role out there that you would say yes to without so much as reading the script? Well I didn’t have to read the script for 300, and I almost got my chance there, but I ended up doing another film and missing out. But there are certainly things that I would jump at, and certain people that I’d work with without even thinking. I think if you want to be really thorough you should read it, but if they said “do you want to do a movie on the road with Sean Penn and Gerard Butler?” -- who are two people that I love -I’d say “just sign me on, let’s go.” But other than that, you’ve got to be diligent and have a little bit of a plan, which for a while I didn’t.

Three films to look forward to As decided by Steph.

1. New York, I love you

A follow up from Paris, Je’taime New York, I love you, a series of short films all set in a particular parts of New York - from Coney Island to Tribeca. With actors such as Natalie Portman, Blake Lively and Ethan Hawke - directed by Brett Ratner, Mira Nair and Natalie Portman. If Paris, Je’taime is anything to go by this is going to be brlliant. Check out the three minute trailer, its lovely. And in the meantime go watch Paris, Je’taime.

2. In the Loop The US president and the UK Prime Minister fancy a bit of a War. This film is about the burocratic undertaking by both governments - and the trailer, as well as the reviews really make this film look hilarious! Staring James Gandolfini, Peter Capaldi and Steve Coogan.

3. A Serious Man It’s a Cohen film - a COHEN film! Exploring questions of faith, familial responsibility, delinquent behavior, dental phenomena, academia, mortality, and Judaism -and intersections thereof. A comedy, of course and a dark one at that one would assume. The trailer is extremely odd and has excited many Cohen films. The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

his year, Feast is proud to celebrate a HomeGrown theme that dedicates itself to our thriving local talent. It is essential to cultivate our community’s capacity. In 2009 Feast gets back to its roots, giving local, interstate and international audiences an opportunity to see local artists and performances. Feast supports LGBTIQ (lesbian/gay/bisexual/transgender/intersexed/questioning) communities through recognising and supporting our artistic talents, and showcasing these to the wider community. Feast is proud of our position as a leader among Australian queer festivals. In nurturing local Adelaide LGBTIQ communities, Feast acknowledges and articulates our position in the global community. With a HomeGrown theme, Feast is an expression of whom we are, what we believe in, what we do and how we like to play, for all to enjoy and take part in - welcome to a Feast that is proud to showcase some of the best of homegrown talent from Adelaide and Australia, representing a diversity of sexualities, genders and art forms. The program features fantastic cabaret, comedy, theatre, a superb musical line-up, film, literature, visual arts, community events, sport and even poker! You will notice that alongside the marvellous range of homespun talent is the beautifully bent Bridge Markland and Sydney’s Gurlesque presenting their new erotic work, plus there’s sport – oh and did I mention Poker? Get down to Feast Hub @ Higher Ground which will feature a stream of splendid performances plus a stage dedicated to work by emerging artists. The Feast Hub is the place to chill out, get fired up, get flirty, get funky and get totally Feast-ed in between a line-up of fantastic shows. Feast are particularly enthusiastic about their HomeGrown focus this year. So welcome to a Feast Festival dedicated to you, your communities, your skills and desires. This year Feast fosters the LGBTIQ communities so let’s honour HomeGrown and acknowledge our homes as a place to grow, flourish and be fabulous.

The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

nightlife: all over now S

ummer is on its way, and wasn’t winter, bloody cold. I look forward to those nights when you can walk out of a pub or club and the outside temperature doesn’t make you shrivel into a goosebumpy-teeth-chattery loser who wore a dress. The end is nigh, the year is almost up, so thought it would be fitting to talk about what’s on when its all over… Its festival time again! Music to my ears, literally. Go to Parklife? Still talking about it? Then next on the festival rotation is Stereosonic! Bonython Park will be bursting with people on the 5th of December as the line-up features top dance and electro artists. Headlining in 2009 is Deadmou5, Fedde Le Grand, The Bloody Beetroots, The Crookers, Grafton Primary, Bag Raiders and many other Scandinavian babes with names like Sven… last year sold out, so get in whilst there are still tickets available. The prices range from $105 first release to $117 second release. 2008 turned out to be a scorcher, so make sure this year you take some of that magic sun cream to avoid looking like a tomato on legs. Well worth it.

Other places I’m rating –

Places that just don’t cut it –

The Dublin at the bay- aside from the amazing chicken schnitzel the place is kind of cool, has a pretty funky interior and one can be assured of a good beer. Nice to chill out on a Sunday away from the line-ups at the G-rand.

The Duke – Bad, Dodge, Bad is all I have to say. I’m sorry, I wanted to be a fan, but aside from the annoying messages I receive every Thursday, the unoriginal music and the not so special drink prices, not impressive.

Zhivago’s on Waymouth – The music is a combo of old and new goodness. The bartenders are quick and don’t mix up your drink order, it’s only five to get in (cheap) and there is plenty of space to move/groove about. Hot tip: Don’t wear white, the ultra-violet affect is scary. Savvy’s on Waymouth – I never thought I’d say it, but upon stumbling into this bar one Saturday evening, I actually enjoyed myself. They do make you line up despite having a load of space inside, the drinks are a little pricey, but other than that, the crowd is respectable and the music danceable. It grows on you. t’s not only the end of the uni year, it’s the end of the nightlife page for 09. Gee kids it’s been fun. Free drinks are awesome, not lining up is… awesome. Best research one can do.

Cheers! See you on the dance floor.

Ainsley Campbell

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

so long & thanks for all the mammaries The Naughties. This decade is almost over and we’re no closer to giving it a name that we can say with a straight face. What other option do we have? The 00’s? Ooh, indeed. Making even less sense, it sounds even more lewd and lame. Then again, maybe it is particularly fitting that an era defined by its very namelessness would be the heyday of Generation Y, a demographic unable to classify itself except as a moniker throwback to the previous Gen-X. Gen Y. Y. An empty, open variable. And why not? Gone are the days when we had the flavour of a generation collectively defined by a World War. Or the ‘solution’ to a world war, when a glimpse of the atom bomb sent everyone into newfandangled suburbia to make picket fences and a boom of babies. We can all agree that our current decade didn’t begin with the flick of a calendar, but the fall of two towers in New York city. The ‘Vietnam 2’ war of Iraq and all of the protests against it. Obama-rama, and the Global Fucked-Up Crisis. Everything around us now is a result of September

the 11th 2001, or a counteraction to some counteraction that it sparked. That said, Generation Y has been affected more by the medium by which we get our information, rather than any information in its own right. Forget the nameless decade; perhaps it will make sense once it is all over. But consider how apt it is that a decade labelled by its nameless zeros would be defined by 0s and 1s… and the contradiction that we find ourselves at our most socially networked when we are sitting alone at a computer. Every previous generation has had their own subculture. Boomers had their 1950’s birth-of-the-teen Greasers, and later the flower-powered Hippie. Gen-X had their apathetic Grungers, and ecstatic Ravers at the other end of the spectrum. If all Gen-Y has is Emo kids loitering out the front of coffee shops in the mall, maybe we can find consolation in another contradictionthat they find a kind of genuine happiness in being perpetually sad.

of a new generation. The Naughties were the birth of a new century, and indeed a new millennium. So maybe its time to discard all this subcultural humdrum and embrace the wider culture, through the individual. Whether or not they’re at it on their solo desktop. And when we look back, if all we ever had in common was a bunch of empty 0s with nothing but 1s between them, so be it.

words by /mr_metaphor.

We should remember that this past decade, whatever it was or wasn’t called, heralded more than the heyday The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

Student Politics: An Insider’s Guide Words by Patrick McCabe On the first night of election week I returned home late at night. I was sunburnt, I was physically sick, I was completely exhausted, I was depressed, I was pretty sure I was going to lose. And I still had four days to go. In past years, student elections have maintained a certain mysteriousness. Those somewhat pitiful student politicians out in Hughes Plaza electioneering at anything that stood still – it all seemed part of a whole different world of which I was not a part. I’ll admit I was a little intrigued, but to say I harboured political aspirations would be a lie. Nonetheless, one fateful day, I was talked into running for Union Board on the ‘IndyGo’ ticket. While labelling myself ‘insider’ might be a stretch, I thought I’d nonetheless try and give ‘outsiders’ an insight into what it was like for me this year in my struggle for election glory (or something). It’s probably true to say I didn’t quite realise the breadth of the commitment required to run for student elections. After various meetings and extended hours of banner painting, election week arrived. 9am Monday morning, I got off my bus and strode onto the university. The various ‘tickets’ were gathered in their respective camps, terse ‘mornings’ exchanged with the enemies, promotional shirts were put on and flyers were distributed. I’ll admit I was nervous. Was I going to be able to bring myself to accost complete strangers and coerce them (I mean convince them, of course) into voting for me? Could my ego and general selfrespect take such a beating? Apparently it could. My morning got off to a reasonable start. I had enlightening chats to many fellow students – but few of them felt inclined to vote for me, or at least not on the spot. Meanwhile, my yellow-shirted ‘Innovate’ rivals seemed to be having no such problems, as more and more yellow “I’ve already voted” badges begun to appear on students’ shirts. Monday came to a merciful end, only to be replaced by the equally unfriendly Tuesday. Students slowly became less tolerant. One would have been forgiven for being surprised at the seemingly high 22

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

voter turnout – it was only early in the week and yet everyone seemed to be telling us they’d already voted. It didn’t take long, however, to deduce that many of these alleged voters had in fact not done so, but just found this an efficient way to ward off politicians. This suspicion was demonstrated in pleasing fashion when a fellow campaigner accosted an old schoolmate of mine right in front of me. “I’ve already voted, sorry,” he said with an expression of almost-genuine disappointment. Then he turned and saw me. “Paddy? You’re running? I’ll vote for you! How do I do it?” Suffice to say my fellow campaigner was not pleased. And thus the week continued. There is something about desperately putting yourself out to every passer-by and getting little to no loving in return that drains you both emotionally and physically. That said, there were nice moments, such as when friends of friends told me they’d voted for me, or, on one memorable occasion, when a passer-by recognised my name from On Dit and excitedly told me “I’ve been wanting to meet you for ages.” Yes, those were her words. Yes, I was shocked too. Turns out On Dit gets you groupies. Who knew? And a shout-out to you, ardent fan whose name I have since forgotten – you made my day – and possibly week – in fact, possibly year. Each morning, a few team members would put up the banners. On Thursday, my turn came around. Over the years, competitiveness for the best banner positions has seen politicians with more enthusiasm than sanity get up earlier and earlier in a bid to secure the best spots. It was this textbook example of ‘game theory’ that saw my already exhausted frame haul itself up the Barr Smith stairs at 6am. Yes, 6am. It’s actually kind of interesting seeing the uni at 6am. But not interesting enough to do it by choice. Now readers, you might feel student politicians are all crazy – on this point at least, I am whole-heartedly with you. Before long, the week ended. It was 5pm on Friday, and I was in the UniBar. Election night in the UniBar was genuinely exciting, it must be admitted. We chatted nervously, clutching our beers, as mobile phones started buzzing from the counting

rooms downstairs. The first news: the constitutional referendum had passed, and so the number of Board members to be elected would be only sixteen, not eighteen as it used to be. Great. Now election success was even less likely. Then the first-preference votes came in. I had 54 first preferences. There was no way I could get elected on that, even with preferences still to come. I was out, and everyone knew it. They came and shook my hand, “Good on you for running” they assured me. A little disappointed, but not especially surprised, I returned to my drink and conversation and put all thoughts of elections behind me forever – or so I thought. The night dragged on, with more and more candidates being eliminated – but my name never came. At 11pm, the final candidate was eliminated – and I was still in. Somehow, a miracle had been worked and I had been elected. No one could believe it, including me. We all concluded that for some unknowable reason preferences had all flowed my way. So there you have it. Your faithful On Dit writer is headed for public office. My bewildering victory left me with an interesting (and pressing) question, the same question I am asked most frequently by mystified friends: why exactly did I run? Here is my brutally honest answer – although, being a politician now, take that as you will: First, it was exciting. All the intrigue and tension! How thrilling! How could I turn that down? I’d never know what I was missing out on. Second, I love debating, politics and all that, so Union Board was something I found interesting and, I’ll admit, possibly enjoyable? Finally, I can honestly say I thought I might actually make an OK candidate and try and do something ‘good’. Altruism, I know, how hackneyed. Nonetheless, hopefully I’m right. It wasn’t until next week that a friend who’d counted the votes told me there had been a miscommunication. I’d actually got 84, not 54 votes. Which meant the miracle everyone thought had occurred actually hadn’t at all. I wasn’t even the lowestpolling candidate elected. It was actually a little disappointing to discover that perhaps God wasn’t on my side after all.

Tips for budding student politicians: What would I know? I’ve run in one election, and fluked my way to success, but hey I like giving advice, so I’m going to indulge myself. Here’s how, you, budding student politician, can get elected next year:

1. Mobilise the friend/acquaintance vote People like voting for people they know – they really like it. I can freely admit I’ve voted for friends/ acquaintances in the past, completely ignorant of their policies. Voting for people you know makes you feel like you’re actually casting an informed vote. You know that guy in your tute you spoke to once to ask for a pen? He’ll vote for you. But he needs to know you’re running. This is where Facebook, e-mail, etc. come in. Use them. Shamelessly. This is something I didn’t do enough. It’s kind of difficult because you can feel like you’re abusing friendships by earnestly telling everyone you’ve ever met to vote 1 you (and you’re probably right). I found self-deprecation works wonders to allay guilt in this department. Similarly when you’re out on the hustings, if you see long-lost primary school-buddies or tutebuddies, talk to them! Many will be interested! On the down side, many will indicate that your foray into student politics has terminated any possible remaining friendliness between you, but hey, you never liked them anyway, right?

2. Don’t be evil

Don’t be evil. This is Google’s motto. Google helps China sensor the Internet. But just because they’re hypocrites doesn’t mean they’re wrong. Don’t employ ‘dirty tactics’ – your opponents will hate you for it and they seem pretty ineffective anyway. Don’t push international students who can’t understand you into the voting booth. You’ll end up hating yourself – or at least I hope you do. Don’t attempt to use sex appeal to get votes – but then again, maybe I’m just jealous that this inexplicably didn’t seem to work for me.

3. Write for On Dit

It’s a little-known fact that my writing for On Dit all year has just been an extended apprenticeship for student political life. OK, maybe not. But writing in On Dit did me no harm in election week. I noted one extreme example above of this, but without appearing too arrogant, I can state that being able to say, “I write in On Dit!” did help me get a few votes. So write for On Dit! It is on this parochial note that I end my year’s worth of contributions. Thanks for reading!

The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

The things we look at when Vinny takes a gander at:

www.facebook.com

Facebook is a great social media tool. But it has another even better purpose – practical jokes. What began as a once-off joke turned into a long-running series of pranks, finally degenerating into all-out warfare. Sneak out to the toilet without logging out and sexually deviant status updates are added, religions changed, and twilight quiz after twilight quiz posted under your name. It spread to desktop images, screensavers and finally there was talk of adding ESL subjects to peoples Access Adelaide the day before census date. A truce was called under the intense pressure of elections, but with all that behind us no-one is safe. It followed me home eventually, my Facebook language once even switched to English(Pirate), but remember: Facebook someone and be aware that you are about to enter a world of pain…

ii. www.textsfromlastnight.com.

Ever wake up feeling sore and sorry for yourself and the first thing you do is check your phone to see what SMS-based social atrocities were committed last night? That’s what this site documents, and it ranges from fucking hilarious to seriously perturbing… (214): 1. No more tequila 2. Why do you let me say slutty things? 3. I woke up and our apartment was covered in cake? 4. Love you (785): I’m sorry i’m just too high to handle anything besides pirates of the caribbean right now. (716): i dont have any money that hasnt already been designated for cigarettes and birth control

iii. The Official On Dit Rubber Band Ball

I was my other work one day and discovered a rubber band ball – a ball made of rubber bands wrapped around one another – stuck behind the printer. Despite a good two and a half hours of working at it with coat hangers and assorted office implements - not to mention getting my arm stuck twice - I couldn’t get it free. So we started making our own with the plethora of rubber bands that hold the shiny new On Dits that rainbow press deliver us. It’s not the most spherical ‘ball in the world, so it ricochets off in unpredictable directions sometimes, either behind a couch or into your face. A lot like life realy…

iv. Dining out of Vending Machines

When you’re working late and need something resembling a hot meal, you’re pretty much outta luck. But there is a close substitute – Nana Diver Mini Meals: The closest thing to real food out of a vending machine! Chewy bland oats, filled with chunks of sticky orange ‘fruit’, and sickening coated in sweetened ‘yoghurt’, they maintain the illusion and taste and nutrition until that first bite. By that time it’s too late and it’s 3am, so what the hell, it can’t kill you… can it?

v. Reginasaurus

Here at On Dit we love Regina Spektor more than our own flesh and blood. For one she’s prettier, more musical and can sing in Russian, which is just plain hot. One terrible day we were ‘tubing Regina when one of us came across this adorable song, Reginasaurus: “If I was a dinosaur I’d be a Reginasaurus And if a knew a million words I’d have my own spektor’s thesaurus” It’s highly disputed to this day between Steph and I as to who exactly found this video, but that’s beside the point: When the chips are down, this is the shit that gets us through. Youtube search the video for the rest of the song, you won’t regret it.

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

we should be making On Dit Steph peruses:

a. stuff white people like

Stuff White People Like is a blog that takes satirical aim at the interests of North American “left-leaning, city-dwelling white folk”. The blog, hosted by Wordpress, was created in January 2008 by honkey Canadian Christian Lander. The Blog has registering over 300,000 daily hits and over 40 million total hits by the end of September 2008. It lists most of the things I like, making me the ‘nerdiest, whitest cracker in the On Dit office at any given time.’ To name a few - Banksy, Mad Men, Moleskine (it’s not artistic unless you write it in a Moleskine), The Onion, Unpaid internships (this mag), fringes, cardigans (oh my yes), study abroad (done, Canada), threatening to move to Canada (checkmate), Wes Anderson (his font type is Futura, enough said), Michel Gondry, Sarah Silverman (She’s racist but she knows it, so it’s funny, get it?), Arrested Development, public radio, old bikes (made one this year) and David Sedaris (see below). I’m fine with it.

b. overheardinnewyork.com

Overheard in New York is a blog that has perfected the art of eavesdropping, bringing all the whacky, witty, shocking, hilarious and outrageous conversations of New York City to the web daily. Morgan Friedman, founder and editor of Overheard in New York, endless fun - some of my favourites include: (a) “Bus driver: Everyone get on the bus, I got a schedule. For those of you sneaking on in the back, can you at least do it fast? I’ve got places to be.” and (b) “Upper-East-Side lady on cell: I know, but I was at a funeral all day...Yeah, it was sad, but I really didn’t know him at all...This saddest thing was seeing his daughters upset. They’re the same ages as--Wow! This shirt is only $19!! You can’t even buy a freaking Frappuccino for $19! I’m getting it in blue. (Banana Republic, 86th & 3rd).

c. david sedaris

David Sedaris, what a hilarious man. We have fully enjoyed his audiobooks while laying out editions. He is also on the list of what white people like, what follows is an excerpt from the Stuff White People Like website: “He is a humorist who writes for the New Yorker and has several books including Barrel Fever and Holidays on Ice. His stuff is kind of funny, but white people go crazy and will pay hundreds of dollars to hear him read from his own book. Let me say that again, they will pay money to see someone read from a book they have already read. They know the jokes are coming, they know the punch lines, but they feel the need to hear the author actually say it. White people universally love David Sedaris. So if they ever ask you “who are you favorite authors?” you should always reply “David Sedaris.” They will instantly launch into a story about how much they love his work, and the conversation will go from there, and you don’t have to talk about books any more.”

d.cracked.com

Cracked is an American comedy website, and was originally a humor magazine. Founded in 1958 (as a mag) the Cracked site is best known for its humorous lists and compilations, for example, my favourite being “24,504 worst pieces of Advice ever published” the best being - fun things to say “how about a little drinky poo” and the ultra-depressing “try really, really hard to get excited about your life again”.

e. brad neely

I found Brad Neely through the We Are Wizards doco at the BAFF, a segment of that doco was about his alternate soundtrack of narration to Harry Potter. Neely is also the creator of the internet cartoon, “Cox & Combes’ Washington”, which is fantastic and you should go to a computer and youtube it now. Lyrics: “Washington, Washington 6 foot 20 fucking killing for fun...sue me if i’m go too fast, but the sons of his opponents wish that he was their dad...Washington, Washington, 12 storeys high made of radiation, the present beware, the future beware, he’s coming, he’s coming, he’s coming”. His JFK history lesson is brilliant Oh, oh, oh One man, Once died, But did you know that he could read all our minds? He was the U.S. Adam with Jack the wife. He was a hyper-charismatic, telepathical knight. The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

The 2009 end of year Judged on first impression Lauren Lovett. When we first met her she had measuring tape bows on her shoes and a children’s pencil necklace. “You’re going straight to the top” we said. One of the only subbies to hand up consistently enjoyable articles - on time. You know Lauren from her Op-Shop reviews and the wonderful Short Story Section.

On Dit Propaganda pushers Both Anna Ehman and Andrew Auld, our very own Science & Music Subbies came to our aid during election week. Good looking, charming and totally brilliant.

Best Nicknamed Staff A tough category to define a clear winner. So there isn’t one. In no particular order; Bruno, The Captain, Swanny, L-Dog, Kimbo, Strokeface, Willbo Baggins, Marketeer, Fitch, El Lopez, Gurgles, Badams and Peach.

Content on Demand Badams poetry & short stories, Sam Ryan’s Enviromental Vegetrian piece, Linc Rothall’s Skins article, Mr Metaphor’s work, Gibbons Orlando’s Pick up artist piece, Elijah Fox for being Steph’s pseudonym, and Joel Parsons for film.

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

Most Organised + Best Interviews Anders Wotzke. An Amazing Film Subbie, second only to the two authors of this section. Not only did Anders zip files with content AND images but he also divided content into reviews and content. Clearly a genius. Interviewing the likes of Balibo Director Robert Connolly, Steve Jacobs and actor Shane Jacobson. Secondary Award: Best Jumper. An all together perfect blue piece. The ladies swoon. check out his website: cutprintreview.com

Autonomous Award El Lopez, once, twice, three times a lady. For handing up her submissions fully proofed and layed out, making this the easiest section to publish EVERY edition. Only downfall is that you only do this for Vincent as Steph doesn’t have you for a subbie. it has been a pleasure.

Best Designer For creating 5 out of the 12 covers, and helping with a few of the others - Danny Brookes. For helping us in the first few editions as we didn’t know how to use InDesign, Danny Brookes. He may have disappeared for most of this term due to his overloading but he’d already given us the keys to the On Dit castle.

Friend Awards Margot for driving over to give us beer, Lauren Lovett for seats and pirate badges, Adam for Rupert (Steph’s Cactus), Jake for Steph’s desk chair, Sophie for the fairy lights and Maureen for the Canadian CD.

On Dit Awards Fail A big cheers goes out to Lavinia Emmet-Grey & Sam Deere for dismissing deadlines and deeming them “for the other contributors”. Bringing us close to tears at time, making us layout your page, send it to the printers and then put your text in hours before it goes to print. Even better when we see you out drinking when you’re already a week past deadline.

Office company Jack Smith & JoFairy - Jack for decorating our office with the Black Books speaking pencil, the disciplinary paddling act (of 1995), and for Facebook prannking us in the most extreme ways. Jo; Romey and Michelles High School Reunion related art. Glittery words of appreciation for our wall and contributing to the playlist.

Honourable mention: Fitch, McCabe, Laslett and Moraw.

That guy that does stuff Capable of being almost too excited to help, followed by bouts of absense, followed by public drunkeness and then back to motivated. This award goes to Will Fisher,ourunphotogenic buddy and lovely marketer. A fantastic young man, who will be recieving our letter of recommendation shortly.

Financial Loss-Contributor Our very own Vincent Coleman win’s this coveted award for being the perpetrator for 80% of errors that cost us funding this year. For placing the wrong ad in edition 1, for printing pornographic (which borders on illegal) and for later realising this at a meeting discussing funding. Top job. At least we got the funding back and no real harm was done...I guess.

Editor’s High and Low Vinny’s Low: Crying in the rainbow printers car park at 9am, having not slept for 36 hours and being told (verbatium) to “Unfuck it”. Steph’s Low: The first day exhaustion of Elections, followed by losing the elections. Vinny’s High: Being Snubbed by Margaret Pomeranz at the Adelaide Film Festival. Steph’s High: Being introduced to Rolf De Heer while she yelled “Hey Bri-Bri - what’s the happy-haps?!” to her neighbor. Followed by that neighbour telling Rolf De Heer Steph was going to marry her son.

The Jimmy Award. Jimmy, Jimbo, Swanny - for crackin out the music reviews, being our go to guy and making our itunes look far cooler than we actually are. We enjoyed sneaking your image into nearly every edition of On Dit. Thank you for being a spectacular subbie.

The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

short stories

even french ones. Words by vivienne milk. you sit down with her, in the pantry. she is crying, almost. you understand her quivering lip to signify failure. more failure. you pick up a can of food. you ask her if she thinks that one can of alphagetti could spell any word at all, even french ones. she ignores you and pulls something from her shirt. it is a nappy, a tiny nappy for a tiny bum. she has already started preparing. nappy in hand, she begins to cry. you brush her fringe from her face and take the nappy. you open the nappy and use it to wipe her tears. laughing, she calls you an idiot. you cover her nose with the nappy and tell her to blow. she asks you if you’re serious. ‘oui’, you reply.

* eds note - To our magnificent subbie Ms Lovett - you are brilliant - and loads of fun! we both look forward to the future beerdrinking, second hand furniture gifting 28

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

short stories

An Illicit Night. words by Ed Satchwell.

The candles were lit. The flowers were appropriate. The table was set. The food had almost finished cooking. George waited anxiously by the door, wringing his hands and occasionally peeking out of the window. He heard a car pull into the driveway, looked through the venetian blind and saw her get out. He let the blind flick down, ran into another room to give the illusion that he had not been waiting with such anticipation, that he was a laid back person with a chilled nature, yet still good enough to cook a fantastic dinner. He plucked at his clothes rapidly, attempting to remove all excess lint. He heard a knock on the door. Shit, had he flushed the toilet? Of course he had. Why was he being so fretful? He opened the door and there she was: a beautiful and delicate woman with boobs that he felt privileged to give even apprehensive glances at when she wasn’t looking. “Hello Jennifer!” He almost shouted with nervous excitement. “George!” “Come in, come in.” George said, ushering her in and offering her a seat in the lounge. She took a place on the couch and looked around at the large and well furnished rooms. “Wow, you have an amazing house, so this is what you get as the executive of a big company?” George smiled back in a suave and sophisticated manner. “Care for a drink?” He offered.

“What can I say? This is what you get from being a government executive.” “Oh, I thought company?”

you

worked

for

George’s eyes flickered. “Ah, yes, it’s a company that works for the government. I go either way.” He winked at Jennifer and laughed. “I honestly did not know how sophisticated you were. And to think you didn’t even know what fellatio meant when I met you at that bar.” She smiled tracing a finger along her lips. “Well, I guess you learn something new every day.” He winked back at her. They heard another car pull up into the driveway. “You weren’t expecting anymore guests were you?” Jennifer whimpered playfully. “No...” George walked to the window and looked out. “Oh, I think we should go into the other room.” He said standing Jennifer up. “What, who is it? What about dinner?”

“Sure, what do you have?”

“Oh, I think it is just the butler, but he is quite the perve. You’re better off in the other room.”

“Anything you want.” George replied, revealing an extensive selection of liquors.

“A pervert you say? Well, perhaps I could make...”

Jennifer gasped in slight amazement at the rainbow of colours, putting a hand on her large left breast which covered her heart.

“No, that’s not necessary.” George said pushing her into the hallway. “Just go down to the last room on your left.”

He poured her a drink, what it was, he did not know. He was still getting used to these new cocktail ingredients. After a brief but flirtatious conversation, George went to check on the dinner. Finding the chicken well roasted, he called Jennifer to the table. George sat Jennifer down and tucked her napkin in. “Well, enjoy.” “Can I say George, this is amazing. I didn’t know how...Wealthy”

Shit, shit, shit. George thought to himself. He looked out the window and saw people emerging from the limousine with bags and suitcases. Shit. He pulled his emergency box out from under the table and pushed the dinner into it. He was not about to waste a good roast. He blew out the candles and ran after Jennifer. “Jennifer, baby, we’ve got to go, don’t ask

why now. We’ve got to go. Now.” “What, why, what?” “There’s no time to explain, we’re in danger.” Jennifer and George escaped through the back door just in time for the front  door to be opened by the newcomers. Terrence Ronford opened the door and smelt the scent of some sort of paltry roast and heard Latin music wafting in from the parlour. He turned to his wife. “Darling, you didn’t leave the music on before we left did you?” George ran with Jennifer. George Plume: plumber, locksmith and thrill-seeker was going to get laid tonight. The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

Feel like sticking it to the man? Of course you do, but the reality is that you’re just going to get a dead-end office job, move into middle management after a few years of shit-kicking and then wake up one day with the realisation that you’re insufferably boring and that your kids hate you. At least, that’s the dream. Well, if you want to avoid the destiny that lies before the rest of us, you could run away and join the circus. Except there aren’t that many circuses to run towards, and even so, the position of bearded lady has been filled, and you’re not too good with elephants. But you could do worse than becoming a street performer. The pay’s apparently pretty good, you’re out in the fresh air, you’re interacting with people, and purchasing a unicycle goes from being a shameful secret to a tax deduction. I talked to one of the regular performers in Rundle Mall, a dapper Scottish gent by the name of James James (no, really), before he went on stage to pull some oranges out of cups in a skilful and entertaining manner. [James yawns. He’s had a big one] You’ll have to forgive me, I went out drinking last night. My wife got a haircut yesterday and I she looked gorgeous so I said ‘I’m taking you out’. A hundred and seventy dollars and a couple of bottles of wine later …

That’s OK. How does something like that affect a performance? I got stoned as well, so probably quite a lot. To start off, what would you call your trade? Are you a busker, a magician… Initially I was a magician, just doing magic tricks, doing gigs, product launches, whatever. People think there’s a difference between [the terms] busker, street performer, street entertainer. I don’t currently class myself as a magician, I’m just an entertainer who does tricks, a street performer. When you tell mum and dad that you want to be a magician, what’s the reaction? Well, my dad supported me 100%, but my mum… I was living in Greece, doing magic. I was doing kids parties, some product launches, and I pitched to advertising companies, who’d take me on board and use some of my ideas to promote products. I said to my mum ‘look, I’m getting all this work all over Greece’, but her immediate reaction was ‘you can’t do magic for a living’. Mum didn’t get it. She thought that you needed a regular job, a regular income. I imagine that the job is a bit of a labour of love. Did you always know you were going to be a magician? Oh god no. I was always interested in magic as a kid, because it meant I got to talk to people, and I was quite shy. I see street performance as a great way for an entertainer to go out and earn money – it’s instant gratification, you get the applause and the laughter, and then they pay you (more often than not). It’s a passion, I love doing it, and it’s helped me pay my way around the world a couple of times. It’s the most direct route to financial freedom you can take, aside from being a millionaire, and you can live a millionaire’s lifestyle.

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

So where were you before you became a street performer? Is the accent Scottish? Aye, Edinburgh. I was really lucky to have parents that broadened my horizons. I mentioned that my mother was very ambivalent about what I was doing, but that’s just the job. But we lived in Africa, where my dad was working. We went to many different places, so my growing up was very broad. I lived in Scotland for a while, but during most of my adult life I’ve travelled by myself. I’ve done a variety of different jobs as well. Such as? Well, here’s the chronology. Leaving school and not knowing what I wanted to do I was working in a shop selling carpets. I got my first suit, it was a pinstriped, widelapel, bell bottomed suit, and I thought it was the bee’s knees. Looking back, it was a pile of shit. I stuck it out there for four years because I got money to go out every weekend. I didn’t really think of a career. I resigned, and went for an accounting course. It wasn’t for me, so I went to Greece to bum around, and worked for a tour operator, ferrying people to and from the islands. After that, I did magic at parties, and then at a casino, doing tricks at the tables. I lived in Tenerife for a while, then came back to Edinburgh and thought ‘what the hell am I going to do now’. I saw a street performer, started talking to him, and I’ve carried on from there. I’ve heard that there’s a bit of a magician’s code that says you can’t reveal how a trick’s done, so how do you actually learn the tricks? Magic is a marketable, saleable commodity, just like anything else. If you want to learn some tricks, go online, go to a shop, and buy them. There’s no real secret – that mysticism’s gone. It’s like the old days where the guy used to fix your TV set, and they’d have a black cloth over the back so you couldn’t see what they were doing, because that was his work. Yeah, part of the trick is not knowing how it’s done, but a trick is just a conduit for taking people on a path.

Street Performer People say to me ‘I saw you put that into the hat’, because they’re standing in the wrong place. OK, that’s fine, I can see how it’s done too. I don’t show people how the trick’s done, if they ask me. There’s a great trick that I do, where I switch money between different denominations. If people ask me I say, ‘if you really want to know how it’s done, go online and search for ‘The Hundred Dollar Bill Switch’. If they’re really that interested they’ll do the research. Whereas, showing them how it’s done they just go ‘Oh, I see, that’s wicked’ and then that’s it. I don’t want to satisfy people’s immediate curiosity, but if somebody’s really determined to see how something’s done, I give them the tools to find out, and that’s not an issue. Is it hard remaining spontaneous and energetic doing the same show all the time? Before you hit the stage, as it were, your mental attitude should be ‘this is going to be the best show I can possibly do’ because if it’s not then you’ll have a shit show. Then the money side goes bad, and you walk away feeling crap. Then you take that bad energy onto the next show, and the next, and it’s a self-depreciating cycle. I’m not on all the time, and I’m quite selfish when I’m not on, because I like my own space. Especially when I’m eating or smoking a cigarette. But when I’m on, I’m on. What do you want from an audience’s reaction? For them to clap, or laugh, or to come up and shake your hand after the show? I want them to put money in my hat. It’s a strange one – I want people to put money in the hat because they’ve enjoyed themselves. I’d like an audience to enjoy what I do so much that they clap and laugh spontaneously. I like the outward expression that the audience is enjoying themselves because it lets me know I’m doing a good job. But at the end I want them to come up and put money in my hat. I say to people ‘come up and shake my hand if you’ve got no money’. That’s because the closer they get to the hat the more likely they are to put something in. We’re a cynical bunch, street performers.

How do you put the whole performance together

What’s the best heckle you’ve ever had?

The formula is crowd build, pre-show, show, bottling speech, final trick, then put the hat out. So I do a little coin trick at the beginning, to get a few people interested. And then that few becomes five, seven, nine, then you get a whole crowd. I don’t get the crowd, the crowd gets the crowd. But then you’ve got to keep them interested.

I dunno... Most [hecklers] just call out ‘you’re shite’, so you just come back at them with something like ‘I wouldn’t heckle me mate, I’ve got more lines than you’ve had up your nose’. I’ve been threatened, been hit, had bottles thrown at me. I was doing in a show in Glasgow and a bottle hit me on the head. I just saw red. I stopped the show, and these three kids were laughing and one said ‘it was me, mister’. I just laid into them, called their mothers and fathers every name under the sun, going on this massive diatribe. Then they told me they were only joking. I felt like shit. I learned a lesson from that – don’t spew diatribes at kids.

You’re doing a routine, and you finely tune it over time. Do you then get to a point where you feel you need to change it for your own creative reasons, or because people have seen it before? It’s not about people having seen it before. I’ve always felt that if you’re on the street and you’ve done a show for [a long time], people are just going to see it as being the same performer, regardless of whether it’s a new show, and they’re going to pay or not pay depending on how good the show is... Whist I sometimes get sick of what I do, or I get lazy about it, I know that to attempt a whole new show means that you have to start at ground zero. When you’ve been doing a show for a long time it becomes very tight, you can just roll out of bed and do it. Whereas if you’ve got a new show, or even incorporating something new into your old show, you’re changing the dynamic, and it takes time to work. You might climb a higher ladder, but it takes time to reach the same height that you’re already at. And whilst you’re doing that you’re not getting paid as much. Given that you only earn cash, do you declare your income to the tax office? Every day, the money I earn, I write that amount down. Sure, it’s predominantly a cash job, and you could fudge it, but the reality is that I want to get a house. So I want to declare as much money as I can so a lender will give me a loan. You could screw around with it quite a lot. But if you only declared a quarter of your income and then bought a nice car, the government gets to know that, and then you get audited, and then you get screwed.

Any closing statements? I’ve got friends that say it’s very tenuous, that I won’t be able to keep doing it all my life. But I hit the streets, all I do is pay for the permit – 22 bucks – and I go to work. If you own a shop you’ve got stock, you’ve got all the utilities to pay, staff to pay. You don’t make a single penny until someone walks in and buys something, and of course I don’t make money until I do a show. But I’ve not got all those costs. So it’s great. And it brought me to my wife, so I’m happy... Put it this way, I worked 253 days last year and I did OK. I won’t mention how much, but I earned quite a lot of money – I’m not good at keeping it but… On 253 days I went to Edinburgh twice, and to Rome. When the weather’s good you’ve got to work really hard because there will be times when [the work’s not there]. But I can take a holiday whenever I want. James James a.k.a. “The Tartan Trickster” does public shows in Rundle Mall, or you can check out some stuff on his YouTube channel [youtube.com/ thetartantrickster].

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Empire of the Moghul: Raiders from the North By Alex Rutherford A brand new historical novel, Alex Rutherford tells the story of the Moghul Emperors and their magnificent rise to their dramatic fall as one of the most powerful dynasties in history. The Tower By Michael Duffy Nicholas Troy is living in Sydney. To Troy, this city has always been a city to be wary of, with predators hiding at every turn. As a young detective, Troy is still idealistic enough to want to make a difference, however, one day when a young woman plunges from a building and lands on a police car, Troy enters the shady world of crime organizations and learns more about the ties between corruption and the city he lives in. This is a very character driven novel. However it is often hard to connect to any of the characters besides Nicholas Troy. Duffy’s characters seem to hide behind their subtext rather than come out and say how they really feel. For someone like me, who hates subtext, it can get rather frustrating. However, it is a well structured novel with an excellent plot which more than makes up for the frustration that one may feel at the half riddles that several of the characters seem to take great delight in speaking in. The debut novel of Michael Duffy, a writer for The Sydney Morning Herald, this is a great crime story.

In 1494, a young boy rises as leader of Ferghana. Young Babur is determined to be just as great as his ancestor, Tamburlaine, who conquered vast lands. However, he is very young to be leader of a kingdom and before Babur is able to summon enough warlords to declare him the rightful ruler, plots against his life are forming and attempts to take his throne are being made. As his obsession with the fabled land if Samarkand grows, he discovers that betrayal is everywhere, even with those he trusts the most. This is a great story for anyone interested in finding out more about the Moghuls of India, who are largely unknown. This is a fictional story, but it gives an excellent frame of reference for all. It is intriguing and based on a real person from history. The story draws the reader in and leaves them wanting more. Rutherford escapes the trap that so many historical writers can fall into, which is losing momentum and producing halfway through something dry and dull. This story just keeps going. I can’t wait for the next segment!

Dead Men’s Dust By Matt Hilton A brand new action hero has stepped into the scene. His name is Joe Hunter. He is a man with his own morals and codes. He is the modern day version of a gunslinger from the Wild West. Think John Wayne or Clint Eastwood. He is ready and willing to use whatever means necessary to defend those who need it from the bad guys. It all starts when Hunter’s estranged younger brother disappears. He was last seen hastily exiting a gruesome murder scene. Hunter is enlisted to find him by his brother’s ex-partner and the mother of his children. To find him, Hunter needs the help of a former friend from the Army, multitudes of weapons and a journey to Little Rock, Arkansas to fix the problem his little brother has found himself in. However, once he gets in to the mission, he realises that he’s in deeper than he thought after a dangerous encounter with some violent criminals and then he runs into America’s feared serial killer, The Harvestman. However, Hunter is determined to find his brother and help save him, no matter the cost... This is the first of a new series by Matt Hilton featuring Joe Hunter. It’s fast paced and action packed. Fans of Lee Child will be excited to know that there is another writer out there to deliver new and intriguing thrillers with characters who want to protect those who need protecting. The story and the action draw you in and makes you want to continue reading, even though you know that Hunter will save the day.

Alicia Moraw

Last Tuesday’s Lit Club

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Ode to Hallett Cove. Words by Lauren Lovett.

Op Shop Review

Today I stand where you used to, oh Hallett Cove Salvos. But now, now its just not the same. It isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t the same because you have become a fish and chip emporium: a barnacled bill. Oh Hallett, my friends and I used to visit you at least once a week. And (whether it was a ceramic pony, a grand piano telephone, cowboy boots or a sailor hat) you always had something charmingly kitsch. Yes, you were one of the greats. Never did you take advantage of us yesteryear lovers. No, unlike your sister store in Findon, you didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t exploit us by upping all your prices. And I remember, dear Hallett, how you loved trashy weddings. How you always displayed the bows and frills of your eighties bridal gowns, with pride, right there in your front window. Sometimes, nowadays, your relatives sell me something quaint (your good relatives: St Marys, Goodwood and Huntfield Heights), but never as often as you did. And it is you, dear Hallett, that I have to thank for that trip to the doctors. Yes thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s right, it was you that sold me the tennis shorts. The pair of shorts that contained the delightful little spider that bit me, ever so lovingly, on the arse. So as I stand, where your cash register used to be, and eat hot chips, I tap my spider bite and I remember you.

*eds note - Favorite Lauren moment; her throwing hundreds of fruit salad lollies into everyones mouth at the ex, followed by her rants regarding her dislike for the fairer skinned red head

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DAS. is a new clothing store/hair salon in Adelaide, a self-described “place you can get your hair looking fuck-off-hot & find a new outfit for dancing until you vomit on the weekend. Or just come hang out & have coffee”. Located in Ebenezer Place, just of Union Street. Das is the brainchild of Adam and Dom who met working at Toni & Guy. They talked about opening their own Toni & Guy but found that the costs of started up such a franchise were just too expensive, so one night after more than a few drinks they decided, “fuck it – we’ll open our own shop”. With just 4 weeks rent-free to get Das up and running, they gave their 2 weeks notice, chucked in their jobs and started working every spare minute not working to make Das a reality.

Dom and Adam

The opening night was a huge success, with just about every dapper gent and pretty young thing Adelaide had to offer cramming into the tiny little store, spilling out onto the rain-soaked streets for lack of room inside. The party went late into the night and beer-run after beer-run was made to get more supplies. We told Adam and Dom how much we loved their new shop and they kindly offered to give us a makeover – I had just received a fabulous haircut, but as my housemate Mr Milton says, “don’t do dentistry on a gift-horse”, and besides, I wanted to see just how fuck-off hot they could make my hair. The store itself is a delightful mix of clothing boutique and salon, with small batches of apparel from Death by Drone, Alexi Freeman, Hell Bunny, Little Gracie and PM (peoples market) as well as hair products by EVO. With the retail operation out front, finding a salon out the back is a pleasant surprise. Dom described it as being more like a shop that also cuts hair, rather than the other way around – a place where people can come and get a smashing haircut as well as an outfit for the weekend, really creating an experience rather than just a retail jaunt. Adam also makes a fucking good cup of coffee.

shop front

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inside das

where is Steph

s you can see from our before and after shots, Adam and Dom transformed us from shabby students to the bright young things you see before you. I was pleased with how Dom restructured by neo-50s asymmetrical quiff, but my jaw dropped when I saw the curls Adam had coaxed out of Steph’s ‘do. The test with this sort of thing is always to see if you can make it look half as good the next morning as when you walked out of the salon. I crawl out of bed, have a shower and rub some pomade through the front it and it pretty much takes care of its self, and looks amazing. Running your own shop is always going to be a more emotional and scary experience than just working somewhere, particularly your first one - “It’s hard to be sure if it’s going well – you know money’s gong into the till, but should you be doing more? It’s hard to say”, remarked Dom, but they look like they love it and were overwhelmed with the opening night’s success – “We kept running out of beer there were so many people! We had to make 2 or 3 more runs”.

Steph before

So, was ist Das? Das is a fuck-off tops place to get a haircut, score yourself a great outfit and have a great time just hanging out..

Steph after aww

Vinny before

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Fashion apocalypse Just a few of the truly awful, heart-breaking, end-of-the-world-signalling fashion trends that can be spotted way too easily on any Adelaide street. 36

Guess handbags Everyone went crazy for these when I was in high school and, somehow, they’re still prominent as ever. Cheap animal print, shitty strips of plastic and studs tacked on all over the place, big clangy garish ‘G’ buckles... god what the hell. I overheard some girl the other day talking excitedly about how cheap the ‘knock off guess bag’ she got from somewhere was. I thought they were cheap/revolting enough already, but whatever. For more information, consult ‘Your Big Tacky Guess Bag is Raping My Eyes’ on Facebook.

There seems to be a lot of girls out there who refuse to take the time out of their lives to hone the art at home, yet insist on wearing it daily anyway. Every time they bat their lashes you get an eyeful of smeared, jagged lines like a squashed spider, scrawled on and around the upper lids: the eyes look uneven, messy and severe, and it creates that whole hundred-year-old, cracked out, skanked up, Olsen twin look. Gross plucked eyebrows

The waist belt is an essential staple of every girl’s wardrobe, and it serves a very specific aesthetic purpose: to draw in the waist and enhance one’s womanly physique. When you slap a plastic looking, chunky belt on over a singlet, what exactly are you cinching?

Okay, I dye my hair blonde and my eyebrows are ridiculously dark in contrast so I should really be focussing on keeping mine regularly manicured instead of complaining about what other people do to theirs, but I would rather look at a pair of dark, full, meaty brows any day than the arched, single line of hairs so many girls pluck theirs away to. Like the aforementioned crappy eyeliner, super skinny brows are awfully severe and make a girl look about thirty years older. Make Jennifer Connelly your example.

Orange fake tan

Leggings as pants

Orange palms. Yellow nails. Muddy-looking wrists/ankles. That weird line around the middle of the throat that comes from trying to blend your mismatched Maybelline foundation into your fake- ass tan. Do some research on the better tanning products out there and learn to exfoliate and moisturise appropriately to avert this summertime calamity.

I can’t believe I’m even mentioning it... like, I can’t believe it’s even a problem and that people actually think it’s okay to cavort around Uni or go shopping or whatever proudly sporting this look, but I see it all the time.

Random belts

Wobbly Liquid Eyeliner I save liquid eyeliner ‘til Saturday night, and that’s because I kind of suck at makeup and it takes me about an hour to do a decent job of it. The stuff takes practice and when executed properly, looks incredible.

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Unless you on your way to or from the gym (or some kind of activity involving excessive exercise) there’s no excuse to wear these things in public. It doesn’t matter how thin/ toned/hot the person is; everyone can see their bits squidging and shifting around and it’s completely gross. Not to mention what happens when you bend over or walk up stairs. Yeesh.

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here are also far more tasty versions of cockroach recipes, which (fortunately) do not contain cockroaches:

Fruit Cake

By Christian Reynolds

f there is one food that can be made at home, yet can still survive any misfortune that man or nature can produce, it is the fruit cake. Armageddon, the Apocalypse and even my family’s Christmas celebrations do not stop the fruit cake from existing. The fruit cake, it never seems to age, it just keeps on being a immense daunting mass that nobody ever eats, it just sits in the cupboard, pining for that day when you have run out of food and you will have cut into its dark rich sweet heart out of desperation. If your family is like mine at Christmas, then the fruit cake is a weapon; to be given as a present to another family. The recipients may thanks you for the “yummy” cake but behind the veil of thanks are the thoughts of “bugger, what are we going to do with another one of these things!?” It is assured they in turn will give your cake to someone else next year. This has lead to my belief that there are no new fruit cakes produced- only a finite number that are passed around the world from family to family. In fact last year my family received the same cake we have given two years ago to a different family!

Cockroach Cocktail 15 ml Kahlua 15 ml Drambuie Pour both ingredients into shot glass and mix. Cockroach Cluster ingredients 340 gm chocolate chips 1 cup raisins ¼ cup chocolate sprinkles 2 cups thin pretzel sticks (broken into 1 inch pieces) directions In a microwave safe bowl heat chocolate until just melted. Remove and stir in the raisins and pretzel pieces. Drop by T’s onto waxed paper and sprinkle with chocolate. Let stand until firm. … I suppose there is and always will be vegemite too…

This year we are going to break the cycle- apparently fruitcake is really good toasted with whisky on the side, and I have a new bottle just waiting *Don’t worry, I won’t be around next year for a chance to be opened. t is said that fridges and cockroaches are the only things to be able to survive a nuclear apocalypse. The cockroach is a proven survivor. It’s fossil record dates back to approximately 300 million B.C., a period predating dinosaurs by nearly 70 million years. Additionally, the roach knows how to get by during tough times: It can survive on dead or decaying organic matter and can even live without its head for more than a month.

During the Y2K scare of late 1999 I had a friend whose parent’s were extremely concerned about their survival, so they stocked their cellar full of tins of food. I think they are still eating beans from that stash today. Mind you, if you do end up going down that path, please remember a tin opener… otherwise it is you or the cockroaches. Amazingly, the NZ Government put out a survival plan for the Y2K episode and one of the tips in their book of tricks was a tasty recipe for the millennium bug on toast! Simmer cockroaches in vinegar. Then boil with butter, farina flour, pepper and salt to make a paste. Spread on buttered bread.

tlic

iou

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Sunn O))) Monoliths & Dimensions A

fter ten years of making deep droning guitar explorations of the physical power of music (their motto is “Maximum Volume Yields Maximum Results”), Sunn O))) have released their 7th LP, Monoliths and Dimensions. As soon as you hit play you get the feeling this is something special, and it is. Sunn O))) have perfected their form. This is a creation that embodies their ethic, while not being constrained by the conventions of their presupposed heritage. Core members Stephen O’ Malley and Greg Anderson have now expanded the group to comprise a wide range of players including Australian guitar experimenter (and now almost permanent fixture) Oren Ambarchi, and vocalist Attila Csihar of Tormentor and Mayhem.

“Thunderous resonant sounds call from beyond the depths and the winds of gravity change into memories of the consciousness of ancient rocks, nature’s answer to the eternal question” - Csihar’s guttural yet warm tones project upon us after 5 odd minutes of pummelling drones, carving out a new cavern in our heads. As Csihar speaks of the creation of a new world, manifest from the great void, the music churns, at once confrontational yet strangely relaxing. Confrontation is inevitable as you progress through the middle section of the album. The experience is taxing, and not to be taken up lightly. We are sucked into the abyss of “Big Church”, facing judgement, as we are addressed with a Hungarian compound word -which I’m not going to begin to try and spell here- which was used in ceremonial deconscecrations. Sunn O))) are known for their unrelenting approach, but those who are able to listen through the towering monuments of decay in the middle section of the work and take it in are duly rewarded by the closing track “Alice”, a piece which elevates the band above anything they have ever achieved before, something drone purists may scoff at, but which for anyone else with the patience is a finale of great uplifting power, a glint of beauty never before considered in Sunn O)))’s repertoire.

Other collaborators along for the ride are Earth’s Dylan Carlson and most extraordinarily, jazz trombonist Julian Priester, a former member of Sun Ra’s Arkestra and collaborator of Herbie Hancock and John Coltrane. Priester’s involvement in this work is telling, there are many statements which suggest this is not a metal band anymore, or rather, that we are forced to think about how far wide this band has just opened the gates of what can be called metal. With nods to Miles Davis and Alice Coltrane, Sunn O))) have made a statement- a statement of where they come from, what they are striving for, and what they have achieved. This is not solely a work for metal devotees, though it will require some endurance if you aren’t used to it, and is quite possibly the album of the year. J.Swanborough

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Fav. Albums of the Decade

As the decade comes to a close, we thought we’d take a moment to reflect on some of our favourite albums of the new millennium thus far. - Jimmy Swanborough 1. Radiohead- In Rainbows Kid A was always my favourite. That is until this hit. Morality piercing publicity stunts aside, In Rainbows manages, unlike Hail to the Thief which proved an uneasy amalgam, to perfectly interweave everything Radiohead had done p to this point into a new statement. Just when you thought there was nowhere left to go, they produced an unimaginably moving portrait of love and doubt in the face of the infinite. 2. The Flaming Lips- Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Boy realises he is alone in the universe, wonders if he is even capable of love, boy meets girl, girl fights off evil robots, boy wonders if it will last, becom es absorbed in doubt, girl tricks boy, boy tricks boy, love will conquer all, all we have is now- Oh, that old story. 3. Broken Social Scene- You Forgot It In People Proof that rock still has new places to go, Kevin Drew and co shoved all their Sonic Youth/ Dinosaur JR/My Blood Valentine/Pink Floyd aspirations together into a cacophonous calamity of guitar orchestration and turned it into something truly heartfelt. You Forgot It In People is a widescreen soundscape of psychadelica, bossa nova, funk, indie rock, balladry and all other manner of sonic weirdness, providing the backdrop for the heartbreaking action of songs such as “Almost Crimes” in which two scorned lovers trade blows and the jaw dropping “Anthem for a Sixteen Year Old Girl”. Never have a 16 + member group sounded tighter. 4. Modest Mouse- The Moon and Antarctica One of the acutest depictions of utter desolation ever put to tape, Issac Brock managed to harness his demented angst and look up into space into infinite nothing. Channeling Tom Waits and Black Francis, they manage to sound quintessentially American and completely vital. The lyrical genius of Brock is matched by his off kilter humour and unique guitar work throughout the epic yet never drawn out masterpiece. If you’re planning a drive into the desert, this is your best friend. 5. TV on the Radio- Return to Cookie Mountain TVOTR derived the seemingly farcical title from a level in Super Mario Bros., pulling on nostalgic moments of innocence to frame their tales of love in times of war. Dave Sitek once said no one could interpret all of the meaning from this record unless they were going through a divorce, a war, and a nervous breakdown at the same time. That sounds pretty accurate. The wash of feedback and heartbreaking lyrics made this an instant, if initially impenetrable classic- plus Wolf Like Me has to be the best fuck song of all time. You can’t keep the dick out of music.

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6. Beck- Seachange For all of Beck’s fluxus inspired brilliance on Odelay, this is his most heartfelt and moving work. Second only to the almighty “Blood on the Tracks” by Dylan in the breakup album stakes as far as I’m concerned, Seachange was written in the wake of a 4 year relationship gone sour. Channelling some strange combination of Serge Gainsborough, Kris Kristofferson and The Beatles, each song drips with bittersweet honeydew. Seriously, if you’re feeling down, give this a listen, it helps. 7. Ryan Adams- Love Is Hell + Cold Roses I couldn’t choose between these two records if I tried. One of the most chronically underappreciated and unfairly maligned artists of our generation, Adams created himself an image of infamy, then had to try to live up to it. Drunken incidences aside, Adams still managed to be one of the most prolific artists around, offering up at least an album a year, as well as accumulating possibly double that in unreleased material and often fighting his record company for what arrangement of songs were released. Comparisons to Neil Young are hard to ignore due to the sheer stylistic breadth of his work and his favouring of heart over head. Love is Hell is for winter mornings, Cold Roses summer evenings- take your pick. 8. Tool- Lateralus One of those albums that goes as deep as you want it to. This completely split my mind open as a 13 year old when it came out, musically it was heavier than anything i was listening to at the time, and the concepts were more far reaching than anything I could have imagined back then. A calm, collected and coherent vision that defies any allegations of pretension or convolution that have been thrust at it. This is Tool’s most controlled and uplifting statement. 9. Björk- Vespertine Björk’s most intimate work, the music feels like its playing out from inside of your head as she describes coital moments in a way only she could, not a hint of perversion, only respect for the honesty of the display of love and humility. “It’s Not Up To You” and “Undo” beg self-forgiveness and relinquishment to fate, while “Unison” swells up and envelopes you in its warm glow. She’s one of a kind. 10. The Microphones- “The Glow”, Pt. 2 A masterwork of lo-fi production techniques, Phil Elvrum’s syncopated acoustic guitars ring around your head, sometimes feeling as though your listening from within the guitar itself. Elvrum imagines the self in nature and enelopes you in his droney asceticism as you sink deeper into his universe of mountains, lakes, wood, fire and rustic mansions.

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Apocalypse or a Bright Future? C

urrently there are predictions that the next ‘great depression’ will begin at some stage next year, as we fall from the peaks that capitalism invariably creates. This is not a theory proposed by anticapitalists, but by economists, free market capitalists of the grandest measure. The great dive seems to have already begun, although halted by huge stimulus packages to right the economy (which will apparently only serve as a delay to the inevitable). Anti-capitalists on the other hand predict the fall of capitalism itself, although what comes beyond that is an unknown world of state control mixed with economic self interest, or perhaps even a state of utopia in which money is not important. Alternatively some look not at the economy when envisioning the future, but at the planet and the changes that we have created that could prove catastrophic in terms of food and water supply and humanitarian crises. Regardless of which perspective you take, the next 50 years will prove critical in determining the future of the world beyond it. That may seem like a given, of course the next 50 years will affect the years after it. What effect they will have however is what is crucial. I have chosen the period of 50 years because it will for the most part involve the remainder of our lives, and therefore the way in which we live will determine the future of the world beyond us. Will we continue our lives as consumers until the planet turns into a wasteland? Will economic slowdown forego the needs of the extremely poor? Or in 50 years will we have ensured that no-one on this planet lives in poverty? How will we do that if capitalism falters? How will it be achieved if capitalism and individual greed thrives? I want to use this final article to reiterate the topic I have drifted from in recent articles to discuss other issues, but has been the fundamental argument in my series of articles. Our consumerism is linked to everything that needs our attention around the globe, and its minimisation or complete denunciation will lead to a better future.

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This life that has been created for us, by those that shaped the 50 years before us (and those that shaped the 50 years before them and so on), is based on consumption. In order to feed our ravenous appetite for all that we can and must buy, we work. Some of us are lucky enough to work on projects that we are passionate about. For the majority, work is toil; it is merely a place to sell our labour for the money that we need to buy things and to return to work. It is this same consumption that has created global warming. Don’t be appalled by corporate giants for polluting the planet; be appalled at yourself for demanding the products that they supply. It is our thirst for the things we can buy, our consumerism, that is changing the environment. Just as it is our consumerism that creates the disparity among the rich and the poor. While we are addicted to our own consumption, the idea of global wealth distribution is barely whispered. I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry at the assumption that without the incentive of wealth humans would not achieve anything. I laugh because it seems so selfish, but I cry because I know, for the most part, it is true. It does appear unnatural for a human being to forgo happiness for the sake of another. But amidst this assumption I am optimistic, and my optimism lies in the source of our supposed happiness. We have been brought into a world where to have excess money and to buy things is to be happy. Why else would we sell our lives to employers? They provide us with the means to our happiness; our money. This is the happiness that the people of 50 years ago created for us, and it is the supposed happiness that means we live selfishly, consuming everything in our path, relinquishing little lest it interfere with our wealth, with our happiness. It is a false happiness, based on something outside of humanity, and that ultimately destroys it.

And so I charge those of you who hold the next 50 years in your hands: Don’t let people 50 years from now be the consumers that we are now, for if they are there will be little hope for humanity and the planet. A liberal democratic government reflects the will of its people. If you are no longer motivated by what you can buy, but instead by the good that you can do, your government will echo that. Your first task is to turn off your television. Unplug it, chuck it out. Free yourself from the shackles of consumerism and open yourself to the idea that you will create the future.

Greg Taylor The Anti-Consumer

The Devil’s Advocate: A Final Repartee

Stand With Me

ast year, I knelt at a tower filled with skulls. It was built to commemorate the insane slaughter of 1.4 million men, women and children under the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia. A few weeks ago, I went from the neuropsychiatric assessment of a murder-suicide patient, a combination of words that in no way compares to the reality of that tragedy, to a devout Christian woman with stage 4 (incurable) lymphoma. The cancer patient had been told by God, through a fellow church goer, to visit her GP for a checkup the previous weekend. When I saw her she knew her prognosis, but she was entirely confident that she would receive another miracle, one that would save her. Despite my humbling personal experiences and further education on the topics of terrorism, global warming, swine flu and many other apocalyptic signs, I stand in defiance to the end, because I truly believe in humanity and that we will survive. Every morning I wake up my faith in humanity is reaffirmed, because I’m still here. We have had nuclear weapons, the ability to destroy all life on Earth, for 60 years, and yet we are still here. That knowledge should reassure you more than any God or ideology ever could. It isn’t only nuclear weapons that reassure my faith in humanity. I live in a world where Martin Luther King Jr’s “Dream” came true. A world where people thousands of miles away will donate huge sums of money to victims of a tsunami they will never know, who then go on to build better lives than before. I take faith from living in the same world and belonging to the same species as John F. Kennedy, Nelson Mandela, and Bill Clinton.

Sometimes I think certain groups want the apocalypse. The self-confessed and self-righteous anti-movements, those working against capitalism, globalization and consumerism, along with their cousins in the greens and other ideologies paint a very bleak view of our species. To them, everything is a blame game, and a commandment to change our ways. I am proud to be human; I feel no blame and nobody need tell us to change. Ten thousand years ago, we lived as hunter-gatherers and nearly 50% died by human hands. Two thousand years ago, we nailed someone to a plank for suggesting we be nice to each other. One thousand years ago, we tortured people to death for petty crimes and killed witches. Two hundred years ago, we were rich slavers. One hundred years ago, women were sub-human. A mere 50 years ago, whites and blacks weren’t allowed to share the same bench. All we ever do is change to overcome whatever blocks our way, and we will continue to do so. We now stand at the most promising times our species has ever faced. The brutal necessities of cave men have been extinguished, the oppressions of imperialism are falling by the way side, we survived the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Cold War, the damage of Communism is finally been put right, we haven’t faced a world conflict in nearly 60 years, and new technologies promise to feed the poor and beat the heat. All we have to do now is crush those pesky religious fanatics who fight to repeal the accomplishments of the last 10 000 years, or bring on Armageddon. Read our history and see what we have overcome. Have confidence in our species and disregard those which do not. Stand with me in defiance of the end.

Tristan Adams, The Devil’s Advocate

Apocalyptic prophecies are the distillation of our fears, and there is a lot to be afraid of in our lives, but this is nothing new. When faced with the current prophecies of the end, I am confident because humanity continuously defies its own predictions. Fahrenheit 451, 1984, A Brave New World, just as the past’s greatest fears for our future came to nothing, ours will too.

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Diamond Plank By Peach Howey-Lenixxh (For Jordan) We’ll make our way to Spain next to orange Cairo We’ll dive for shells fish for dreams we’ll have the coast of Rio And you will always have my word: I’ll never speak allegiance We’ll write for fun write for facts we’ll read a book per week recount ten per morning and learn those bloody instruments We’ll wakeboard in Alaska find D.H. on the road and D.H. in the larger scheme of things And you’ll always have my word: I’ll never speak of home We’ll finish off our voyage in the annals of Oman then finish in Kunming We’ll coach English in Nepal talk Nepal in England then roll again in with dice get frightened on the fringes have jazz in Greenwich village play flute to all Siberia to rhythms of the railway And sleep to all Siberia in Pacific ocean flights argue for the Zionists to lefties in Berlin then argue for the lefties to Zionists in Prague these’ll be our little secrets as we retire to our rooms or better yet to conga lines coconuts and hammocks And I will stick to my word, but no other We’ll make our love to Schubert learn to paint to beneath Big Ben talk physics with the buskers then rucksack JFK for the third time in a year We’ll camp out in the Yukon journey to Peru with those whose lifelong friendships last no more than a month 44

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And let’s hope we find no answer beyond the Himalayas Let’s hope we find no answer to it all I’m hobbling on the spot but running when I move and talking to myself again not droving with the drovers This itch for quest has drawn my blood Plus I’ve realised I’m dying —dying as we all are So though I know there is no answer I’ll never understand if we don’t just pack it all in soon and walk that diamond plank if we don’t just pack it all in soon and walk that diamond plank

The Silent Rooms

*eds note thanks to peach for giving us this poem the hardest poem to layout all year. cheers...

Words by Benjamin Adams

Abandoned voices drift

And we, the living, walking through them

Through silent rooms, and corridors

Over the rugs, and bricks, and dusty boards

Words let go and left to float

And sensing, barely, the callow feeling

Over the rugs, and bricks, and dusty boards

Of the silent rooms, once filled with noise

Where memory hangs upon the wall

But now the only voices left

Like a faded painting, almost the same;

Drift, as if from opened tombs…

That never sits quite as it should

Through the memories we search, and sift

The image skewed by a crooked frame

And the floorboards creak in the silent rooms.

Abandoned figures by the fire Easily speaking, so easily speaking… Ghosts there waiting by the fire And the firewood crackling, And the floorboards creaking… The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

1. I doubt it will be very soon, probably not for a billion years, we won’t be here (Georgia’s a science student - Ash) 2. My dog - it’s the ‘what’ - and someone good a surviving like ex-SAS or something 3. When people stop existing, the worlds not going to stop but we might 4.Well... If the world’s ending I’m not going to be that fussed… Although I don’t think my boyfriend would be that impressed

Georgia

5. Perhaps if there’s a nuclear leak, we’ll all be able to fly from the wings we could grow (hmmm... some sort of adaption thing - Ash) 6. Mad max style, anything left really

Chris McM.

1. When the internet gets out of control, ask Google when

Gemma

1. Climate change, at the rate we’re going it’ll be the end of this century 2. Close family and friends, music and comfy bedding, when the end of the world comes you’ll be able to catchup on sleep 3. A climate apocalypse 4.\ I think me boyfriend would kill me if I didn’t say him but… (I left Gemma pondering - Ash) 5. A bike 6. If no one’s left I suppose they’ll be no one to impress, but I’d be donning my bathers, the melting ice caps will make some good swim spots

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2. A fire extinguisher (because im going to hell) and Paris Hilton, because she deserves to go to hell as well… (Paris Hilton and Hell, there’s a positive the apocalypse will bring - Ash) 3. “insert name here” (standards don’t exist on doomsday) 4. Magic Carpet Or Piggy-back 5. Trackies, a hoodie and moon/ ugg boots 6. Last chance to get with the girl who takes your bus, everyone has one. (awww - Ash)

1. 2012, like the movie says

Vox Popaylpse!

2. Lots of gold, so I can build a gold house to live in on Mars. it’s kinda like Earth really, but a bit dustier. I’d take Eddie Murphy, I’ll need comedic relief

3. Hmmm... Where to begin, big volcano eruptions, zombies… lots of zombies 4. Miranda Kerr 5. A spaceship with big engines, I’ll need one living on Mars 6. Retro 70’s lycra spacesuit (awesome - Ash)

1. When do you think the world is going to end, and how? 2. If the world was ending and you had a chance to escape, what and who would you take with you? 3. What exactly is the end of the world to you? 4. The world is ending, who‘d be literally the last person on earth you’d sleep with? 5. What would be your Post-Apocalyptic mode of transportation be?

Chris L.

Ben

6. What will be your Post-Apocalyptic sartorial style?

1. Right now by massive flooding (yes it was actually raining in Adelaide) 2. A massive poncho and a poncho expert, with so little left in life you don’t want to be left ignorant 3. By this current mass flooding 4. Hmmm... probably that person or that person (randomly pointing at uni students), it’s the end of the world right, you do want you can. 5. Going with this flood that destroys all, a yacht 6. I’d channel a prophetic crazy old man look, the kind who has delusions of biblical significance; again I’m running with this flood obsession.

The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

Social Fumbling: A Fairytale Ending (of sorts) T

his is not a tale of mayhem, klutz and shame. This is a story about something good happening to me for once. For me, this is not a normal story...

ormally I get more-than occasional emails from people – often-young women, outraged and disgusted at the nature of my Social Fumblings section. Clearly the ‘elizabeth smiths’ of the world are missing the black humour and satire of my comical adventures and ramblings, but still. It was thus that I almost completely overlooked one of the most serendipitous of adventures to date. Checking my student email some weeks back. It’s pretty rare that I check it at all, what with it being full of angry feminists and University departments demanding money and late assignments. I came across an email from a girl, and was scanning through it briefly before hitting ‘delete’ when I realised it was not an angry email. In fact, she was sorry for the tragic state of my lovelife, and her and her friend were in fact asking me on a date! Dearest Vincent, My friend Ursula and myself are regular readers of the On Dit magazine. After having read, time after time, your continuous (yet delightful) rants about your lack of love-life and the general perception people have of you, we have decided that we are both going to take you on a date. You have no choice in the matter, you are being forced into the date. There needn’t be any kissing or ‘funny business’, so if you’re afraid of two giddy girls ready to pounce on you, fret not. We just want to give you something other than complaining to enlighten the other On Dit readers. Now the tone of this email may sound a tad negative, but au contraire, mon frere! Ursula and I love your articles, and if we didn’t, we wouldn’t be insisting on taking you out on a date! So please, let us know where and when, and we can negotiate from there. Kindest Regards, Amanda Pirone and Ursula Stevens

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I’m not sure who was more excited: myself or Steph, who promptly commissioned an article, a time-frame and photography. A few emails back and forth and we organized a day for the big event. A little Facebook stalking from all involved and all parties seemed happy with the situation: To be frank, Amanda and Ursula seemed completely nuts, but I like that in a person – if you can’t have character you might as well be a character. I was either going to have the best date of my life or end up in a shallow grave. D-Day arrived and I awaited their arrival at my humble abode / hovel, trying to look as nonchalant and relaxed as possible, not yet wearing shoes or having my wallet in my jeans. There was a rapping at my screen door and two stunning young women walked into my house. My housemate looked confused when they asked for me, and looked at me as if I’d won a competition. Amanda and Ursula showered me with gifts, having made me a card and hand-picked flowers in a glass vase (now used by my housemates as a drinking receptacle). Amanda and Ursula explored my house as I ‘nonchalantly’ hunted for my now missing shoes like the idiot I am. Dressed I showed them the highlights of my house: the tap sticking out of the wall with no spout, the lamp on the toilet floor in lieu of a working lightbulb, the bizarre seaside mural on the lounge ceiling – the works. Amanda informed me that they were taking me out for lunch and led me to Ursula’s car, a sweet late 70s yellow Mercedes Benz. Deeming it a little too creepy they decided not to blindfold me, they put on the special date mixtape they had made for me – Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing followed by Nelly’s Hot in Herre. As Nelly’s smooth R n’ B grooves drew to an end we reached our lunch destination – Macdonalds on Payneham road. Amanda grabbed a bag and bolted from the car, sprinting across the car park and into the dining area. Clearly something was afoot. As Ursula walked me in I was greeted with a booth, covered in flower petals with plastic wine goblets – it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. We sat down and they told me I could order whatever I wanted, so long as I prefaced each item with ‘le’, to make the date more French and hence romantic.

We feasted on Quarter-Pounders, McNuggets with Sweet n’ Sour dipping sauce, French Fries, Thickshakes, McFlurrys and Hot Apple Pies. We talked and laughed and had a jovial time. A good technique I like to use to gauge people is to throw in a few of my more horrendously shameful stories and see how they react - if their brow furrows in scorn then I’ll probably steer away from hanging out with them too much. Amanda and Ursula passed with flying colours, and seemed about as weird as me at least if not more. We had similarly shameful stories, made offensive jokes and had seen the same obscure Norwegian film about Nazi Zombies. With lunch over and a few hours to kill we decided to go and get a DVD from what turned out to be not just my Blockbuster but ‘our’ Blockbuster! It’s a weird store, run by sketchy types and overpowered by the smell of confectionery way past it’s use-by date. Normally I end up spending more time choosing a movie than actually watching it, but not this time. As we browsed the New Releases section, we all descended on the same DVD – Lesbian Vampire Killers. A quick detour to the local supermarket and Amanda and I stocked up on Fruchocs and Triple Butter Flavour Explosion Popcorn (yes, it tastes as amazing as it sounds) while Ursula sat in the car and read the Blockbuster magazine – she does that apparently. We made popcorn and watched lesbian vampires seduce European backpackers and ate Fruchocs. Sadly, the day drew to a close and Amanda and Ursula had to leave as they had a prior engagement. Writing Social Fumblings has been a truly satisfying experience. I’d forgotten how much I love writing, and I discovered that I have a knack for self-deprecating humour. I’ve received emails of both love and hate, and finally I’ve been blessed with a gorgeous date with two stunning ladies, at once no less – one of the sweetest things anyone has done for me. We’ve continued to hang out, and I’m taking Ursula dancing next Tuesday. So there you go – fairytale endings do happen.

A Testimonial, by Amanda Pirone When my best friend, Steve (aka Ursula), told me she thought that it was about time Vincent Coleman stopped complaining about not scoring enough, I knew she had a plan a brewin’. She proceeded to tell me she was going to email Vincent and ask him on a date. As a regular On Dit reader and a fan of Vinnie’s Social Fumbling pages, I felt it was more than necessary to highjack her plan and email him on behalf of the both of us, and take him out for a sexy ménage-atrois. We headed straight to the nearest computer (conveniently, at my boyfriend’s house) and emailed Vincent. After days of anticipation, some intense Facebook stalking and sleepless nights, we finally got a response… and so began operation ‘let’s show this fella a good time’. After much deliberation, Ursula and I felt that the revival of old school romance was in order. We played him some romantic mood music (Sexual Healing by Marvin Gaye, followed my Hot in Herre by Nelly) then took him to a friendly restaurant and scattered rose petals over the table, gave him a bountiful bouquet of flowers (picked by myself, straight from the garden, weeds and all – damn Ursula stole the bouquet and insisted SHE should give it to Vincent) and we treated him to some traditional American cuisine (McDonalds). Our intimate afternoon came to a halt when we felt the sexual tension was too much to handle and we left poor Vincent alone to watch Lesbian Vampire Killers. Our date with Vincent was intense, fun, and raised the bar for any future dating prospects. Vinnie, you are one hot piece of ass. A Testimonial, by Ursula Caon Stevens I’m of the school of thought make dates not war, in fact I reserve Sunday nights for dates specifically. It’s a nice way to get to know people, fun, and doesn’t have to end romantically, so why not? This is exactly why one day after consuming a lot of sugar, Amanda and I decided we should ask out Vincent from On Dit as he seemed nice and instead of writing about failed dates he should write about successful ones, plus who doesn’t like receiving the odd email from randoms asking you out on a date! Cue our awesome date planning skills. We wanted to have the perfect date, you know the drill flowers, chocolate, dinner, movie, romantic walk on the beach. But due to the fact as students were poor and also poor at planning this was not meant to be. But hey, in the end all three of us seemed to have a nice time and all survived my *ahem* alternative driving skills. In conclusion I think people should go out on dates more, Vincent is not a crazy rapist/murderer who will bury you in a shallow grave and McDonald’s is love.

ear not avid readers, while this is the last edition for the year, and I shan’t be returning to these pages in 2010, Social Fumblings is continuing on the interwebs. You can read my social blundering, past and present, at www.socialfumbling.com, as well as in ‘zine format, to be found where ever the fuck ‘zines are found these days... The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

A Jo lly Good by A ngus Revi ew Chis Manchester City v Arsenal (M) olm

Dir: Mark Hughes & Arsène Wenger Executive Producer: Khaldoon al-Mubarak Starring: Emmanuel Adebayor, Robin van Persie, Kolo Touré, Cesc Fabregas Rated M for violence, coarse language Release Date: 12/9/09

In this latest instalment of the Manchester City v Arsenal series, which is usually staid and predictable, co-directors Mark Hughes and Arsène Wenger have added a level of intrigue by switching the allegiances of a couple of their stars, so now Emmanuel Adebayor and Kolo Touré figured for Manchester City’s motley crew, an ensemble mostly made up of B-grade talent. The pacing is all over the place. A fairly uneventful opening that becomes a bit more interesting with the arrival of an own goal forced by a looping Micah Richards header, which Manuel Almunia was unlucky enough to tip onto the post before it rebounded onto the back of his head and into the net. Robin van Persie then got Arsenal back into the game with a classy strikers finish, turning away with the ball from a reckless tackle that caught him, surging into the box and poking it out of the keeper’s reach. Arsenal became surprisingly careless though and despite being on top at this stage of the match they gave Manchester City a lifeline, leaving too much space on the counter attack which was exploited to give City a 2-1 lead. Then came the picture’s climax. Arsenal, pouring forward in an effort to score, left acres of space behind them which allowed yet another City counter attack. A cross was planted on to Adebayor’s head which he placed beyond Almunia’s reach. Adebayor then exploded in a fit of vindictive joy, a performance which betrays how evidently displeased he was at being forced to switch affiliations by the directors on this project when he perhaps would’ve preferred to abandon his work in England and work with a more experimental director in Spain or Italy. In celebrating his goal he ran the length of the pitch screaming ‘yes’ repeatedly - and somewhat derivatively of Meg Ryan’s famous scene in Sleepless in Seattle - before sliding on his knees and extending his arms in a strained messianic metaphor (believe me, I know a strained metaphor when I write... er, see one). His slide came to an end in front of a large group of extras who did a wonderful job playing a group of angry, drunken idiots. This whole scene was a bit pantomime but was nevertheless effective. Reports of bust ups between various members of the cast and Emmanuel Adebayor behind the scenes show that the production was fraught with problems throughout. Adebayor reportedly bitch-slapped Alex Song while Robin van Persie has the temerity to head butt Adebayor in the foot. Tensions like this can lead to flawed, distant performances but in this case it seemed to keep things bubbling away nicely and on edge.

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The directorial pairing of Mark Hughes and Arsène Wenger looks strange on paper, even though they have worked together before, and not always smoothly. Hughes, reknowned for his aggressive, violent low-budget work in the past combines with French indie/ arthouse darling Arsène Wenger, whose focus is undoubtedly aesthetic. Both manage to put their stamp on proceedings to surprisingly entertaining effect at times. Hughes in particular makes the sudden transition from low-budget to a more blockbuster budget, with the backing of Khaldoon al-Mubarak and his AbuDhabi financial muscle, with aplomb. Good marks for the cinematography which managed to capture Adebayor’s unhinged celebration evocatively and who made the most of the rare Manchester sunshine. The editors as well deserve credit for their multi-angled, slow motion recap of the van Persie’s head/Adebayor’s foot incident, a technique reminiscent of The Matrix’s slowed down action scenes. A kitchen-sink ending and some high melodrama partially redeem a work that was in danger of repeating the tired ‘Arsenal against the ropes go down but stick to their guns and make a great comeback against the odds’ formula, despite the nasty undercurrent of pointless violence throughout. Angus Chisholm

★★★

So long kids, itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s been swell

Love & Helvetica, Steph & Vinny

The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine