If my maths exercise book had any more flags in it, it would probably be eligible for the “Super Patriot of the Year” award. However, that aside, I’d just like to ask, is “for a full on day of full on fun” a phrase from an old ad for magic mountain, Puzzle Park or Greenhills? It’s something that’s been driving me insane for the last five minutes.
Anyways, after establishing very clearly that we should all move to California (California!) for Just Another Day in Paradise where Everybody Hurts, so Save Me! because I’m a Terrible Person, and should Stop! right now, and be Forever Young, before becoming a Prisoner of Society, but I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing, so When the Sun Goes Down I’ll find A Horse With No Name and travel under the Moonlight Shadow and search for The Holy Grail. Nah, that’ll never happen…because I’m no Superman :P
…hmm, got a bit carried away there. To rephrase that ramble: I’ve been listening to music. It really does help with the homework. Anyways, it’s been an interesting weekend. (and by weekend I mean the period of time beginning the second you leave the school grounds)
Starting by witnessing Hugh Jackman sing, dance, prance, and have his butt grabbed by random women, you would think that Saturday would be a bit of an anticlimax, but alas, no! Awaking bright an early at the chipper, morning person’s time of 11:43a.m, I thought it was going to be a quiet, slow paced day of homework and SATACing…that was before stumbling downstairs and finding myself amidst a raging, intense battle or epic proportions: Pluto; Planet or Dwarf – who has the right to decide?
15 minutes of “Read this Article!” “It’s purely from a human perspective!” “What about Pluto?” “Who’s to say it’s a rock?” “Who’s to say it isn’t?” “Pluto’s a dog!” later, we agreed to disagree (wow, I really don’t like the cliché-edness of that phrase) and the tension subsided, and then the homework and SATACing began.
The rest of Saturday was a riot of…[10 paragraphs omitted here. In summary: homework, msn, phone, eating, phone, Mighty Ducks! msn, sleep…] Also: thank you commas! Because otherwise I’d have been msning a phone which I later ate while watching Mighty Ducks….riiiight.
Sunday however, is the most exciting day of all. Not just because I watched Dr Who, ate pancakes, and did homework…I got new conditioner! Yay! Crisis averted! Door is closing! Woohoo!
…anyways, this is starting to turn into a fully fledged ramble of incoherent babble, so I’m going to stop now….no….now.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Monday, August 21, 2006
Miscellaneous
It’s been a tough week, but for the fact that it’s only Monday, and nothing really tough has happened. Yes, the day has come. I have reached a blogging drought, and have nothing really to talk about…but that doesn’t stop me in my day-to-day life (as opposed to my week-by-week, year-by-year, nanosecond-by-nanosecond lives…) so why should here be any different? Which is why I’m going to forego the normal, long-winded-yet-highly-thrilling anecdote fest, and just go for a totally miscellaneous- yet-highly-thrilling anecdote fest of whatever comes to mind.
AGGGH! To Wednesday, a day of two tests menacingly circling around a double lesson of bike riding. It’s not so much the riding that poses a threat, so much as the sharp turning while going downhill, resulting in an unexpected-meeting-without-a-prior-appointment between me, the bike, and the unnecessarily solid ground…
Also, are Meredith and Derek ever going to get back together? (just typed Meredith and Addison…great.) Wow, if suspense could kill…except it can’t, because that would be personifying a (how do you describe suspense? Is it a feeling? Apprehension is a feeling…isn’t it? Well, suspense is a feeling now…could have said feeling a couple more times in that little ramble) feeling, which of course is impossible…for now.
Speaking of concerns, omg SATAC!!! It could be more confusing, but for that to happen, it would need to be in a different language. That, or the guide would need to be written on rye bread. Mmm…ensuing confusion to engulf the current confusion…
On a different note, I don’t think my conditioner’s going to last until we next go to the supermarket! Oh no! Not superficial in the least! But, as a wise person once told me that another wise person told her, “Shampoo opens the door, and conditioner closes it.”
Another question; is anyone else slightly out of kilter because of how the sixth Harry Potter book is thinner than the fifth, and thus breaks the getting ever thicker pattern that’s lasted five volumes? It’s fun to be pedantic :)
Anyways, off to dinner now.
AGGGH! To Wednesday, a day of two tests menacingly circling around a double lesson of bike riding. It’s not so much the riding that poses a threat, so much as the sharp turning while going downhill, resulting in an unexpected-meeting-without-a-prior-appointment between me, the bike, and the unnecessarily solid ground…
Also, are Meredith and Derek ever going to get back together? (just typed Meredith and Addison…great.) Wow, if suspense could kill…except it can’t, because that would be personifying a (how do you describe suspense? Is it a feeling? Apprehension is a feeling…isn’t it? Well, suspense is a feeling now…could have said feeling a couple more times in that little ramble) feeling, which of course is impossible…for now.
Speaking of concerns, omg SATAC!!! It could be more confusing, but for that to happen, it would need to be in a different language. That, or the guide would need to be written on rye bread. Mmm…ensuing confusion to engulf the current confusion…
On a different note, I don’t think my conditioner’s going to last until we next go to the supermarket! Oh no! Not superficial in the least! But, as a wise person once told me that another wise person told her, “Shampoo opens the door, and conditioner closes it.”
Another question; is anyone else slightly out of kilter because of how the sixth Harry Potter book is thinner than the fifth, and thus breaks the getting ever thicker pattern that’s lasted five volumes? It’s fun to be pedantic :)
Anyways, off to dinner now.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Scott Joplin + Tram Walk = ...Super Mario?
Having just brushed my teeth within the Protection of Tooth Enamel Safety Restrictions timeline, I’d like to take a moment to make an observation about which I’m absolutely certain many others before me have pondered in depth.
Making the long, arduous journey either from my house to the tram, or from the tram to my house is always fun filled and riveting. Whether it be non-ticket-having “drunkenly-stoned shouty guy”, or random people who sit next to you even when every other seat is empty, then insist upon using your phone, there’s always something interesting going on that you have to struggle to hear while simultaneously maintaining the façade of indifference and nonchalance.
However, tonight the usually phenomenal excitement that is: “The Tram Journey” was dwarfed, by the new and improved: “Walk From Tram to Building.”
Now, you wouldn’t think that too much could happen in less than 5 minutes, but from the second the tram was vacated, the fun began. With n-pod in one ear the epic 150 metre, Lord of the Rings-esque journey began, by me nearly taking out “running man with takeaway”. It was once again a case of the “move-out-of-the-way-only-to-find-they-have-done-likewise” phenomenon, which I wrote about last year. After what felt like about five years of trying to get out of his way, we finally broke free and progressed onto where each of us was actually trying to go.
Moving onto the Colley Reserve path, “having issues with parking meter” man and either “joking or hurling abuse while in cars” people were passed. Suddenly, the hardcore plinkings of Scott Joplin came on, and everything changed.
…well not really. I just wanted to sound dramatic. Nonetheless, it did inspire the random feeling of being in a game of Super Mario. Seriously try it sometime. With the background music there, it would not have come as a huge shock to see frightening evil spotted mushrooms heading in my general direction, with the only way to save myself being to jump either on them, causing them to go “fleep!!!” and dissolve into nothingness, or jump over them and continue moving on in safety.
Skirting around trees, hedges and assorted bottles and litter, without being attacked by mushrooms or mutant bug things, the remainder of the journey was relatively uneventful. Nearing home, “walking normally and not doing anything interesting or unusual to comment on” man and the familiar pillar of smart cars came into sight, and there the fascinating wonderfulness of being Mario ended…
Making the long, arduous journey either from my house to the tram, or from the tram to my house is always fun filled and riveting. Whether it be non-ticket-having “drunkenly-stoned shouty guy”, or random people who sit next to you even when every other seat is empty, then insist upon using your phone, there’s always something interesting going on that you have to struggle to hear while simultaneously maintaining the façade of indifference and nonchalance.
However, tonight the usually phenomenal excitement that is: “The Tram Journey” was dwarfed, by the new and improved: “Walk From Tram to Building.”
Now, you wouldn’t think that too much could happen in less than 5 minutes, but from the second the tram was vacated, the fun began. With n-pod in one ear the epic 150 metre, Lord of the Rings-esque journey began, by me nearly taking out “running man with takeaway”. It was once again a case of the “move-out-of-the-way-only-to-find-they-have-done-likewise” phenomenon, which I wrote about last year. After what felt like about five years of trying to get out of his way, we finally broke free and progressed onto where each of us was actually trying to go.
Moving onto the Colley Reserve path, “having issues with parking meter” man and either “joking or hurling abuse while in cars” people were passed. Suddenly, the hardcore plinkings of Scott Joplin came on, and everything changed.
…well not really. I just wanted to sound dramatic. Nonetheless, it did inspire the random feeling of being in a game of Super Mario. Seriously try it sometime. With the background music there, it would not have come as a huge shock to see frightening evil spotted mushrooms heading in my general direction, with the only way to save myself being to jump either on them, causing them to go “fleep!!!” and dissolve into nothingness, or jump over them and continue moving on in safety.
Skirting around trees, hedges and assorted bottles and litter, without being attacked by mushrooms or mutant bug things, the remainder of the journey was relatively uneventful. Nearing home, “walking normally and not doing anything interesting or unusual to comment on” man and the familiar pillar of smart cars came into sight, and there the fascinating wonderfulness of being Mario ended…
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Spice Up Your Life
We’ve been through ‘The Year Play School Became Un-cool’, Teletubbies – The must have accessory for any self respecting nine year old (wow I really hated that phase), the six months of “omg Leonardo DiCaprio is sooo dreamy, the oh-so-mature-and-witty ‘Pen 15’ and the endless joys of carpets and static electricity. It’s a good thing that the Spice Girls were around, because otherwise we would never have realised that what we really really really wanted was a “zing-a-zing AH!” Been there, done that, bought the bracelet/showbag/VHS tape of ‘Spiceworld – The Movie’. (actually I didn’t get the movie…is it sad that I wish I did?)
The discoveries continued with finding out how totally awesome and fashionable it is to wear matching floral print trousers and tops to a disco (after which many fun hours could be whittled away by shouting in each others ears because “it really isn’t that loud.”) And what better way is there to spend fifty minutes worth of lunchtime than trading stickers/bits of coloured paper/millipedes?
…and I’m sure that by now we ALL know who “Bugsy” is. Or what “I was born on a pirate ship” sounds like when spoken out loud. Ditto spelling out “I Cup.”
But at least by the end of it, we all came out better, well-adjusted people…or so we thought.
Year 11. We were at the top of our game. Serious conversations. Exams. Homework do-edness. Listening to mature, non twelve-year-old-target-audience music. Not falling asleep on the school bus…
So what is it about Year 12 that has a superior dorkifying effect on those going through it?
The year’s trickling away, and with it went the anti-dorkyness barriers that had taken years of quashing and repression to build up. Barely noticeable at first, I didn’t even really start to notice until this week. Maybe I should have twigged when I turned up on day one with Narnia and Spiderman maths exercise books…
After a few weeks of coming home on Friday to watch “H2O – Just add water” a program about teenage mermaids, and responding to arguments with “so’s your face.” (which I might add is totally legitimate…watch Scrubs. JD proves it) it was not until I found myself doing my English application while listening to “Wannabee” that the true extent of what shall now be known as “Twelvenoiditis” finally hit…
Wow I hope it’s not just me.
The discoveries continued with finding out how totally awesome and fashionable it is to wear matching floral print trousers and tops to a disco (after which many fun hours could be whittled away by shouting in each others ears because “it really isn’t that loud.”) And what better way is there to spend fifty minutes worth of lunchtime than trading stickers/bits of coloured paper/millipedes?
…and I’m sure that by now we ALL know who “Bugsy” is. Or what “I was born on a pirate ship” sounds like when spoken out loud. Ditto spelling out “I Cup.”
But at least by the end of it, we all came out better, well-adjusted people…or so we thought.
Year 11. We were at the top of our game. Serious conversations. Exams. Homework do-edness. Listening to mature, non twelve-year-old-target-audience music. Not falling asleep on the school bus…
So what is it about Year 12 that has a superior dorkifying effect on those going through it?
The year’s trickling away, and with it went the anti-dorkyness barriers that had taken years of quashing and repression to build up. Barely noticeable at first, I didn’t even really start to notice until this week. Maybe I should have twigged when I turned up on day one with Narnia and Spiderman maths exercise books…
After a few weeks of coming home on Friday to watch “H2O – Just add water” a program about teenage mermaids, and responding to arguments with “so’s your face.” (which I might add is totally legitimate…watch Scrubs. JD proves it) it was not until I found myself doing my English application while listening to “Wannabee” that the true extent of what shall now be known as “Twelvenoiditis” finally hit…
Wow I hope it’s not just me.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Superman
My computer keeps making freaky whoosh noises, which make me think its either going to implode, or take off back to its home planet.
That aside, I was actually trying to talk about something…which I have now forgotten. Well done concentration span and memory capacity, another tick in the “You Are Fantastic!” column.
Hmm…so, it’s been an awesome weekend. Well, everything except the homework. (wow, that sounded oh-so-very OC what with the starting things with “so”…how irrelevant) which in fact, I should probably be doing…ah well.
Actually, what I wanted to write about was the fascinating, extremely interesting concept that is: the afternoon nap. ( Warning: anecdote ahead) In prep, it was actually a lesson where the whole class would go to their cubby holes, and get out a specially brought from home blanket and pillow, find a place on the floor, carefully spread out, and then nap time would ensue, as exciting fun music would play in the background. It’s here that I’m going to confess that not once in the years that we did this did I actually go to sleep. It wasn’t from lack of trying. In fact, I was extremely jealous of those who could sleep, to the extent that I’d pretend, just to feel like part of the group (ooh, three year old peer pressure) ((also, I accidentally typed “froup”)) (((which could almost lead me to say: “Floop is a MADMAN! Help Us! Save Us!!!” but not quite…))) ((((This many brackets should probably be illegal)))) In the end to quell the monotony of forty minutes of not-sleep, poor old slush (my pig shaped pillow :p) ended up being defluffenated. Alternatively: I’d pass the time by pulling out some of cotton stuffing. Now he’s only half the pig he used to be.
Anyways, skipping forward a few years, the naps ceased, and work (wrote “wok”…it seems to be catching) increased…go rhyming! All of a sudden, you find yourself waking up on the bus, having been rudely awoken by an inconsiderate window making its presence known to the side of your head.
Maybe we’ve all got this round the wrong way. Should it, in fact be, the year 12s with the teddy bear blankets and soothing Old McDonald music?
Probably not. But still, it’d be good.
That aside, I was actually trying to talk about something…which I have now forgotten. Well done concentration span and memory capacity, another tick in the “You Are Fantastic!” column.
Hmm…so, it’s been an awesome weekend. Well, everything except the homework. (wow, that sounded oh-so-very OC what with the starting things with “so”…how irrelevant) which in fact, I should probably be doing…ah well.
Actually, what I wanted to write about was the fascinating, extremely interesting concept that is: the afternoon nap. ( Warning: anecdote ahead) In prep, it was actually a lesson where the whole class would go to their cubby holes, and get out a specially brought from home blanket and pillow, find a place on the floor, carefully spread out, and then nap time would ensue, as exciting fun music would play in the background. It’s here that I’m going to confess that not once in the years that we did this did I actually go to sleep. It wasn’t from lack of trying. In fact, I was extremely jealous of those who could sleep, to the extent that I’d pretend, just to feel like part of the group (ooh, three year old peer pressure) ((also, I accidentally typed “froup”)) (((which could almost lead me to say: “Floop is a MADMAN! Help Us! Save Us!!!” but not quite…))) ((((This many brackets should probably be illegal)))) In the end to quell the monotony of forty minutes of not-sleep, poor old slush (my pig shaped pillow :p) ended up being defluffenated. Alternatively: I’d pass the time by pulling out some of cotton stuffing. Now he’s only half the pig he used to be.
Anyways, skipping forward a few years, the naps ceased, and work (wrote “wok”…it seems to be catching) increased…go rhyming! All of a sudden, you find yourself waking up on the bus, having been rudely awoken by an inconsiderate window making its presence known to the side of your head.
Maybe we’ve all got this round the wrong way. Should it, in fact be, the year 12s with the teddy bear blankets and soothing Old McDonald music?
Probably not. But still, it’d be good.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Life's Fun When You're Having Fun
“… and then they made me their chief.” It worked for Johnny Depp, so, unable to think of an adequate opening, why shouldn’t I launch into a paragraph mid-sentence? Well, grammer maybe…actually, no! Hey, because it’s a quote I can start midway through a sentence all I want :D Wow, life’s fun when you’re having fun.
So anyways, today was the UMAT, and so brace yourselves – here comes a rambling blow-by-blow account:
I could begin by asking you to cast your minds back, back to last night, but that would be wrong for two reasons:
1) I’m not beginning, because this paragraph is preceeded by two others, and,
2) It would be casting your minds back to your memories, which I could not possibly describe. Why? Two reasons:
a. Though I may have been there for some of it….
Right, that could go on forever, I’m starting again…well, by starting, I mean starting that paragraph again…but wait, that’s wrong, because if I was starting that paragraph again, I would have deleted it, and actually literally started it again. So by starting, I actually mean…
Ok. NEW paragraph. Last night was a flurry of flurriedness, as last minute practice-exam-doing was being done, my phone was kept under extremely careful surveillance as we tried to answer the all important, Shakespeare-esque question: “To Uniform or not to Uniform?” That [was] the question :P (Or, my personal favourite Spike Milligan poem: “Said Hamlet to Ophelia, I’ll draw a sketch of thee. What kind of pencil shall I use? 2B or not 2B?”)
“The OC” was half watched, before scurrying (just try scurrying…it’s difficult) off to bed. After turning 45, 90, 60, -45, 45+90 degrees, and still managing to not be comfortable, sleep was finally achieved, and sustained, until the polyphonic-ised “Ride of the Valkyries” infiltrated my brain (but hey, it’s better than my alarm clock being what my phone calls “Groove” but which could better be described as “plonkety dirge”) After about fifteen minutes of pure faffing about, bread was transmogrified into toast, smeared with jam, then eatensoquickthatIendedupfinishingitinthecar.
We Smallvilled (that’s traveling while listening to the “Smallville” soundtrack) our way to the showgrounds, where I was one of the first few to arrive. Highlights of the wait included the doors being locked, so fellow UMATees were literally left out in the cold, until about ten minutes later, when we were sent to join them. It’s amazing how many people out of about a thousand you actually know or recognize.
After a surprisingly non-scary bottleneck, we were issued with a seat number, and ushered into the BIGGEST ROOM EVER!!! (That’s right, no other room in the history of MAN has EVER been the same size) Having filled in all the correct ovals, and marveled at the magnificent orangeness, It Began. Then stopped. “Can I please have your attention. Question 8: 1998 Forest Fires. I repeat. 1998 Forest Fires.” It was confusing. Other than that, it all went like clockwork (though I mean that in its intended context, its still a silly phrase. How many clocks are fast or slow and showing the wrong time?)
But anyway, overall its’ been a good day, not least because: DR WHO WAS ON THE FRONT COVER OF THE 7 DAYS LIFTOUT!!!
So anyways, today was the UMAT, and so brace yourselves – here comes a rambling blow-by-blow account:
I could begin by asking you to cast your minds back, back to last night, but that would be wrong for two reasons:
1) I’m not beginning, because this paragraph is preceeded by two others, and,
2) It would be casting your minds back to your memories, which I could not possibly describe. Why? Two reasons:
a. Though I may have been there for some of it….
Right, that could go on forever, I’m starting again…well, by starting, I mean starting that paragraph again…but wait, that’s wrong, because if I was starting that paragraph again, I would have deleted it, and actually literally started it again. So by starting, I actually mean…
Ok. NEW paragraph. Last night was a flurry of flurriedness, as last minute practice-exam-doing was being done, my phone was kept under extremely careful surveillance as we tried to answer the all important, Shakespeare-esque question: “To Uniform or not to Uniform?” That [was] the question :P (Or, my personal favourite Spike Milligan poem: “Said Hamlet to Ophelia, I’ll draw a sketch of thee. What kind of pencil shall I use? 2B or not 2B?”)
“The OC” was half watched, before scurrying (just try scurrying…it’s difficult) off to bed. After turning 45, 90, 60, -45, 45+90 degrees, and still managing to not be comfortable, sleep was finally achieved, and sustained, until the polyphonic-ised “Ride of the Valkyries” infiltrated my brain (but hey, it’s better than my alarm clock being what my phone calls “Groove” but which could better be described as “plonkety dirge”) After about fifteen minutes of pure faffing about, bread was transmogrified into toast, smeared with jam, then eatensoquickthatIendedupfinishingitinthecar.
We Smallvilled (that’s traveling while listening to the “Smallville” soundtrack) our way to the showgrounds, where I was one of the first few to arrive. Highlights of the wait included the doors being locked, so fellow UMATees were literally left out in the cold, until about ten minutes later, when we were sent to join them. It’s amazing how many people out of about a thousand you actually know or recognize.
After a surprisingly non-scary bottleneck, we were issued with a seat number, and ushered into the BIGGEST ROOM EVER!!! (That’s right, no other room in the history of MAN has EVER been the same size) Having filled in all the correct ovals, and marveled at the magnificent orangeness, It Began. Then stopped. “Can I please have your attention. Question 8: 1998 Forest Fires. I repeat. 1998 Forest Fires.” It was confusing. Other than that, it all went like clockwork (though I mean that in its intended context, its still a silly phrase. How many clocks are fast or slow and showing the wrong time?)
But anyway, overall its’ been a good day, not least because: DR WHO WAS ON THE FRONT COVER OF THE 7 DAYS LIFTOUT!!!
Friday, July 21, 2006
Gibber English
What does one do with themselves without the structure of school to lead you by the hand through the day? You could pass the time constructively, doing homework, or UMAT practice. (certainly not by watching the entire season 3 of Scrubs in less than three days…) You could tidy your room, or… improve your Gibber-English vocabulary!
Take for example:
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
i is good at the english
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
i learn him from a book
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he is a naughty language. Not liking the spik.
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
my dog likes to purple! does yours paper?
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the turtles! the turtles! The lady has the cloth!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the shoe to hit the clock!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
my brothers scarf, it goes beneath the head!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
my brothers hand sock to wear the book!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
No, no, the vase it polished the soot!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
but the soot is my family photo!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it goes in the mantlepiece, next to the pine!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the papercut lies in the water!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
which is yellowed by the monkey basket!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the monkey basket!! get the table!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the father has seen the nest!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the birds see the card!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
The card which is the card of my uncle's aunt!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
she is the telephone!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the grandfather is behind the shell!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the clock is towards the cellar!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
she wants the eel of Christmas!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
not the eel! he is my chopstick!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it lives beneath the bowl!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
but the cd! the cd!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it calls my brother in the night!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the bracelet is on the scissors!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the monkey laughs and the paper it white!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the man in the clock! he wear seven ribbon!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
his shoes the steamer tie!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
*stReamer
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the streamer sees the battery!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it lights the sky with the fish
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the horse eats the fish's nose's eyes
That's texbook enigmatic says:
while purple, he is the cat
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
but my dog purples!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he itches without the ear!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the ticket the ear's seven!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he closes the trapdoor! Pickles!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
pickles!! get the charging bull!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he reads the word heavily!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the teeths run the pen!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
if only he carary oftener!
Embrace Gibber-English! The language of The Future!!!
Take for example:
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
i is good at the english
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
i learn him from a book
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he is a naughty language. Not liking the spik.
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
my dog likes to purple! does yours paper?
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the turtles! the turtles! The lady has the cloth!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the shoe to hit the clock!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
my brothers scarf, it goes beneath the head!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
my brothers hand sock to wear the book!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
No, no, the vase it polished the soot!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
but the soot is my family photo!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it goes in the mantlepiece, next to the pine!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the papercut lies in the water!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
which is yellowed by the monkey basket!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the monkey basket!! get the table!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the father has seen the nest!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the birds see the card!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
The card which is the card of my uncle's aunt!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
she is the telephone!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the grandfather is behind the shell!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the clock is towards the cellar!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
she wants the eel of Christmas!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
not the eel! he is my chopstick!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it lives beneath the bowl!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
but the cd! the cd!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it calls my brother in the night!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the bracelet is on the scissors!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the monkey laughs and the paper it white!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the man in the clock! he wear seven ribbon!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
his shoes the steamer tie!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
*stReamer
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the streamer sees the battery!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it lights the sky with the fish
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the horse eats the fish's nose's eyes
That's texbook enigmatic says:
while purple, he is the cat
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
but my dog purples!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he itches without the ear!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the ticket the ear's seven!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he closes the trapdoor! Pickles!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
pickles!! get the charging bull!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he reads the word heavily!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the teeths run the pen!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
if only he carary oftener!
Embrace Gibber-English! The language of The Future!!!
Thursday, July 06, 2006
The All-New-and-Improved Neighbours!
Once you find yourself treading in the dangerous “Once-Upon-A-Tree-Lived-Some-Pineapples-Who-Didn’t-Like-People territory, you know that you’ve been playing bus travelling games for too long.
…I’m sorry. The previous statement had nothing to do with anything. Personally I blame “Erasure.”
It’s the “Penultimate Day” of Term Two, which means one thing, and one thing only…ASSIGNMENTS! So, taking that into careful consideration, I’m going to catch the fastest tangent-bus away, and concentrate on television.
In a week of heartfelt whinging at t.v’s expense, I feel thoroughly left out, and so would like to put forward the following suggested improvement:
Neighbours. Where is the reality? Boyd is doing a medical degree, and yet is never at university, and instead has spent the last two weeks “gadding about.” It’s time that Neighbours took a leaf out of the 24 book, and started filming in real time. This is most definitely what the Australian public wants, and so I have taken the liberty of preparing the following excerpt from:
“The All-New-and-Improved Neighbours!!!”
[Fades in from Black, to The Opening Credits. Simon and Garfunkle’s “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” plays on loop in the background, while the screen displays various black and white pictures of flowerpots. After ten minutes, this fades out to black. Tense music is playing in the background while the screen remains dark, when it fades to reveal…]
Boyd sitting at a desk, angle-poise lamp trained on a GIANT textbook, while he quietly makes notes in green pen. The camera angle does not change, and there is no sound, except for the incessant dripping of a tap, which gets increasingly louder. After 5 minutes of this…
Boyd: I feel I can stand this dripping no longer!
He walks out of shot. There is three minutes of pure, textbook filled screen, while in the background the sound of an epic battle between man and tap can be heard. Finally the dripping stops, and Boyd re-enters the frame, now wearing a different shirt. This is not explained.
Boyd: Ah! Now. Back to the study!
The scene continues much in this way, including memorable moments such as: “Boyd highlights a paragraph about the lumbar system,” “Car playing Doof Doof music drives past the window,” “Max brings Boyd a glass of Water,” and finally, the episode's cliffhanger: “Oh where has my mechanical pencil gone?”
What do you think? Give the public what they want!
Hmm…or maybe I’m sleep deprived.
…I’m sorry. The previous statement had nothing to do with anything. Personally I blame “Erasure.”
It’s the “Penultimate Day” of Term Two, which means one thing, and one thing only…ASSIGNMENTS! So, taking that into careful consideration, I’m going to catch the fastest tangent-bus away, and concentrate on television.
In a week of heartfelt whinging at t.v’s expense, I feel thoroughly left out, and so would like to put forward the following suggested improvement:
Neighbours. Where is the reality? Boyd is doing a medical degree, and yet is never at university, and instead has spent the last two weeks “gadding about.” It’s time that Neighbours took a leaf out of the 24 book, and started filming in real time. This is most definitely what the Australian public wants, and so I have taken the liberty of preparing the following excerpt from:
“The All-New-and-Improved Neighbours!!!”
[Fades in from Black, to The Opening Credits. Simon and Garfunkle’s “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” plays on loop in the background, while the screen displays various black and white pictures of flowerpots. After ten minutes, this fades out to black. Tense music is playing in the background while the screen remains dark, when it fades to reveal…]
Boyd sitting at a desk, angle-poise lamp trained on a GIANT textbook, while he quietly makes notes in green pen. The camera angle does not change, and there is no sound, except for the incessant dripping of a tap, which gets increasingly louder. After 5 minutes of this…
Boyd: I feel I can stand this dripping no longer!
He walks out of shot. There is three minutes of pure, textbook filled screen, while in the background the sound of an epic battle between man and tap can be heard. Finally the dripping stops, and Boyd re-enters the frame, now wearing a different shirt. This is not explained.
Boyd: Ah! Now. Back to the study!
The scene continues much in this way, including memorable moments such as: “Boyd highlights a paragraph about the lumbar system,” “Car playing Doof Doof music drives past the window,” “Max brings Boyd a glass of Water,” and finally, the episode's cliffhanger: “Oh where has my mechanical pencil gone?”
What do you think? Give the public what they want!
Hmm…or maybe I’m sleep deprived.
Monday, July 03, 2006
Technological Rebellion
I don’t understand my computer’s newfound disdain for me. Not only is it an assassin of conversation, it is an avid supported of the Windows Blue Screen of Death, the dreaded hue appearing at regular intervals, proclaiming the occurrence of some random “Fatal Error” known only by an illuminating name such as: “F110942HK00”.
It’s not as though it is mistreated, or acting out in a pre-teen (it’s only six years old) rebellion. Does it have it’s own space? Yes! Does it get regular attention? Yes! Does it get weekly, time consuming anti-virus scans? Yes!
So what is causing this rift, nay void that’s ever increasing in size? Acting out, it won’t go to sleep when I tell it to, and as a result, takes ages to get going the next day.
…it must be in cahoots with “The Bag.”
It’s not as though it is mistreated, or acting out in a pre-teen (it’s only six years old) rebellion. Does it have it’s own space? Yes! Does it get regular attention? Yes! Does it get weekly, time consuming anti-virus scans? Yes!
So what is causing this rift, nay void that’s ever increasing in size? Acting out, it won’t go to sleep when I tell it to, and as a result, takes ages to get going the next day.
…it must be in cahoots with “The Bag.”
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Gallivanting
If you try to type while listening to “California”, you’ll soon discover that the only sentence your mind is able to process is “If you try to type while listening to ‘California’, you’ll soon discover that the only sentence your mind is able to process is ‘If you try to type while listening to “California”…etc.
Really long story short: It’s Difficult. So what does that mean? Headphones and studying = not such a great idea.
Yes, it’s time for Installment Number Three of the week that is: Exam. Sleep deprived and mildly grumpy, we enter week nine of this term, ready for another rip-roaring five days of Rexvor Namralos (gibberish for “I can’t think of an adjective”).
The days leading up are fully filled with frantic frenzies of study, intense neurological abuse and lack of sleep. By the time you emerge, your BIOS (Basic Input Output System) will be completely equipped with (what should be) accrued knowledge in all matters spectrum, hopefully having not gone off on a tangent during study time.
[Omit 73 pages of confused, subject-related rambling here]
So before wading back into my schoolbag, I just want to note some unlikely similarities between petrol and sleep in year 12:
· The year progresses, and they both become less affordable.
· They are both a form of fuel.
· You can run on empty for a few days, but it will really mess with your mechanics.
· You can only have a specific amount of either. To much or two little is bad
Really long story short: It’s Difficult. So what does that mean? Headphones and studying = not such a great idea.
Yes, it’s time for Installment Number Three of the week that is: Exam. Sleep deprived and mildly grumpy, we enter week nine of this term, ready for another rip-roaring five days of Rexvor Namralos (gibberish for “I can’t think of an adjective”).
The days leading up are fully filled with frantic frenzies of study, intense neurological abuse and lack of sleep. By the time you emerge, your BIOS (Basic Input Output System) will be completely equipped with (what should be) accrued knowledge in all matters spectrum, hopefully having not gone off on a tangent during study time.
[Omit 73 pages of confused, subject-related rambling here]
So before wading back into my schoolbag, I just want to note some unlikely similarities between petrol and sleep in year 12:
· The year progresses, and they both become less affordable.
· They are both a form of fuel.
· You can run on empty for a few days, but it will really mess with your mechanics.
· You can only have a specific amount of either. To much or two little is bad
Friday, June 16, 2006
CHASE!
I am typing in this space,
Words that rhyme…
"Ace," "lace," "face"?
Would this poem be better,
Had I used "race"?
I could talk of cars,
Could’ve been a better base,
But I did not,
So in any case,
I’ll confuse them all,
By calling it: “CHASE!”
Words that rhyme…
"Ace," "lace," "face"?
Would this poem be better,
Had I used "race"?
I could talk of cars,
Could’ve been a better base,
But I did not,
So in any case,
I’ll confuse them all,
By calling it: “CHASE!”
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Numbers
"So, I guess today's, like, the apocalypse." It's Tuesday, and also 6/6/06, so it seems fitting to start with an "OC-esque" opening line. [ This would then be followed by about 10 seconds worth of awkward eye contact, then multiple shots of surfers and sunshine, possibly with some version of "had a bad day", or something of that persuasion playing in the background, before cutting to the opening credits ]
But back to the point of the numerical significance of today. It being the "Devil's Day" and all, it seems surprisingly devoid of horses, let alone dark hooded skeletal figures (which is oddly very Lord of the Rings...) bathed in fire appearing in a line accross the sky...not that I'm complaining. I tried to find out what's supposed to actually be happening today, and sources vastly differ, from the Apocalypse, revelation of the antichrist (one source believes theres one in every generation which makes today completely obselete, thus making their own article void, because why are they writing about a day which, according to them, makes no difference?) to the beginning of 7 years of tribulation. Some say that the devil's number isn't 666 at all, and that it is merely a misinterpretation of a reference to the "Evil Emperor Nero" and that in other publications it appears as 616. Others have worked out "bible coding" which allows them to convert the names of famous leaders in history, including past presidents and popes, into 666.
In any case, I don't really understand it. So instead I'll go off on an extremely different direction and ask a question that's been on my mind for a while:
So, do you think the person with the mobile number: 0445683968 knows that it spells "04 I love you"?
But back to the point of the numerical significance of today. It being the "Devil's Day" and all, it seems surprisingly devoid of horses, let alone dark hooded skeletal figures (which is oddly very Lord of the Rings...) bathed in fire appearing in a line accross the sky...not that I'm complaining. I tried to find out what's supposed to actually be happening today, and sources vastly differ, from the Apocalypse, revelation of the antichrist (one source believes theres one in every generation which makes today completely obselete, thus making their own article void, because why are they writing about a day which, according to them, makes no difference?) to the beginning of 7 years of tribulation. Some say that the devil's number isn't 666 at all, and that it is merely a misinterpretation of a reference to the "Evil Emperor Nero" and that in other publications it appears as 616. Others have worked out "bible coding" which allows them to convert the names of famous leaders in history, including past presidents and popes, into 666.
In any case, I don't really understand it. So instead I'll go off on an extremely different direction and ask a question that's been on my mind for a while:
So, do you think the person with the mobile number: 0445683968 knows that it spells "04 I love you"?
Saturday, June 03, 2006
"Fud wi Colb's"
It’s a lot of “fud” when “soft and gentle” tissues become equivalent to “Super Strength Sandpaper,” butter menthols are consumed by the square metre, your stomach muscles are strengthened by random bouts of coughing (which, oddly enough, seem to always happen the second after you’ve said “I’m Fine.”) and you wake up saying “There was a bird in my room…I opened the window and it wouldn’t leave until the Pedal Prix Parents were at the front door!” (…as you do?!?)
Colds: an exercise in modern pointlessness. They wouldn’t be nearly as irritating as they are if they served some kind of useful function in society. Maybe if they strengthened your immune system? But no, there are HUNDREDS of cold varieties, so the only thing you become immune to is the particular cold that has sunk its tissued claws into you this time.
They begin innocently enough. A slight twinge at the back of your throat, small enough to give you the impression that a sip of water will soon sort that out. However, slowly it begins to grow, until you find yourself grimacing as you talk. Soon you find yourself quite unable to say “rhodedendrums” without different parts of your face moving to create fascinating images of “embarrassing-grimace-pain.”
Next comes the nose problems. Having come home and consumed about a swimming pool’s worth of liquid, you find that you need to blow your nose. Here’s where things start to get strange. You blow your nose once; and you start to feel worse!!! It’s as though the more you blow, the more clogged your nose, until you find yourself seriously contemplating the “She’s The Man” solution… (just for the record, I didn’t. )
By that time you’ re feeling and looking utterly decrepit (or at least like Rudolph the red nosed koala) and you’ve coughed so much, you’re actually bored of the sound, like a really crappy song you’ve heard over and over again. (mostly because its all one pitch, except for occasional double layers of bass…)
But in the end, what can you do to make yourself feel better? (and this time the answer’s not “Soap Rant!”. Let me explain with an example:
From a Monty Python Sketch:
[A Man holding a bird cage walks into a pet shop, where another man is ducking behind the counter looking for something:]
Man with Cage: “Excuse me! Miss? Miss!”
[man continues looking behind counter]
Man with Cage: “Miss? MISS!”
[owner pops up]
Owner: “What do you mean ‘Miss’?”
[Man with cage looks at him for a moment]
Man with Cage: [pause] “Oh I’m sorry, I have a cold.”
Say and do random things! Then BLAME THE COLD!!! (maybe that doesn’t make sense…oh well, I have a cold :P )
Colds: an exercise in modern pointlessness. They wouldn’t be nearly as irritating as they are if they served some kind of useful function in society. Maybe if they strengthened your immune system? But no, there are HUNDREDS of cold varieties, so the only thing you become immune to is the particular cold that has sunk its tissued claws into you this time.
They begin innocently enough. A slight twinge at the back of your throat, small enough to give you the impression that a sip of water will soon sort that out. However, slowly it begins to grow, until you find yourself grimacing as you talk. Soon you find yourself quite unable to say “rhodedendrums” without different parts of your face moving to create fascinating images of “embarrassing-grimace-pain.”
Next comes the nose problems. Having come home and consumed about a swimming pool’s worth of liquid, you find that you need to blow your nose. Here’s where things start to get strange. You blow your nose once; and you start to feel worse!!! It’s as though the more you blow, the more clogged your nose, until you find yourself seriously contemplating the “She’s The Man” solution… (just for the record, I didn’t. )
By that time you’ re feeling and looking utterly decrepit (or at least like Rudolph the red nosed koala) and you’ve coughed so much, you’re actually bored of the sound, like a really crappy song you’ve heard over and over again. (mostly because its all one pitch, except for occasional double layers of bass…)
But in the end, what can you do to make yourself feel better? (and this time the answer’s not “Soap Rant!”. Let me explain with an example:
From a Monty Python Sketch:
[A Man holding a bird cage walks into a pet shop, where another man is ducking behind the counter looking for something:]
Man with Cage: “Excuse me! Miss? Miss!”
[man continues looking behind counter]
Man with Cage: “Miss? MISS!”
[owner pops up]
Owner: “What do you mean ‘Miss’?”
[Man with cage looks at him for a moment]
Man with Cage: [pause] “Oh I’m sorry, I have a cold.”
Say and do random things! Then BLAME THE COLD!!! (maybe that doesn’t make sense…oh well, I have a cold :P )
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Soap Rant
When brain-ache’s come knocking at your forehead, and you wake up to find that your throat has been mysteriously sandpapered in the night, how does one cheer themselves up?
( Note: Not with generous servings of Specialist Maths questions)
No, the way to cheer yourselves up is with a good, old fashioned Soap Rant! What’s that? Well, for everyone who hasn’t experienced one, I’ll transcribe one as follows:
Cast your mind back to when the formal had just finished, with tornado-proof hair, and ouchy-feet, something to look forward to was a loooong shower. Now, pretty much anyone who’s seen Psycho is already a bit on edge when embarking upon a mission of cleansing, so any sudden shocks can tip you over the edge of your nerve limit.
Anyways, this was my mind-frame on that Sunday – this was my mind-frame when I discovered that the tranquility scented soap, wasn’t as tranquil as it proclaimed to be!
Standing calmly, trying not to shampoo your eye – reach out for the glint of purple at the corner of your vision only to discover….
FREAKY SOAP FACE!!!
...ok, a bit random I know, but I'm SLEEPY!
( Note: Not with generous servings of Specialist Maths questions)
No, the way to cheer yourselves up is with a good, old fashioned Soap Rant! What’s that? Well, for everyone who hasn’t experienced one, I’ll transcribe one as follows:
Cast your mind back to when the formal had just finished, with tornado-proof hair, and ouchy-feet, something to look forward to was a loooong shower. Now, pretty much anyone who’s seen Psycho is already a bit on edge when embarking upon a mission of cleansing, so any sudden shocks can tip you over the edge of your nerve limit.
Anyways, this was my mind-frame on that Sunday – this was my mind-frame when I discovered that the tranquility scented soap, wasn’t as tranquil as it proclaimed to be!
Standing calmly, trying not to shampoo your eye – reach out for the glint of purple at the corner of your vision only to discover….
FREAKY SOAP FACE!!!
...ok, a bit random I know, but I'm SLEEPY!
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Squash Asparagus
What’s the definition of a “good time”? This could be a deep and meaningful, philosophical question - it could be rhetorical. Or, it could be straightforward.
This question that has plagued us (well, maybe not so much…hands up whoever’s had loooong sleepless nights of pondering “The True Meaning of Fun”?) *cough* finally has an answer!
…and truly, who though it would involve red frogs with protruding hearts/legs, ritual group animal-print balloon sacrifice, kiwi stamped napkins (serviettes?), flower shaped butter, “being attacked by sharks,” eating cake with improvised tongs, the pitter patter of painful feet, flaunting it “what your mamma gave you”, doing U-turns on dark roads while “bussing it”, flower-fueled head-banging, staring down the barrel of a camera, discovering the monarch of all things pancake, the lies, deception and subterfuge of the Non-Wedge, and an accidental subscription to a year’s worth of rain?
The 2006 Black Watch Formal is GO!
I was surprised to discover this actually, as a person who ardently despises being in photos, can’t dance, and who could actually win an Oscar for comedy merely by tottering around in high heels, my expectations were not Apollo high...(The Einstein Factor teaches me new things)
That’ll teach me for having a negative attitude…It all comes down to relaxation in the end (but not tranquility…more on that another day) Careful though…if you’re too off guard, you’ll find yourself revealing the finer facts of your past… Take this from having learnt the hard way: you might think that everyone stockpiled butter packets in case of earthquakes when they were young…but you’d be wrong :P All in all, what I'm trying to say is: WOOT!
So unable to think of a way to adequately finish this off, lets get into some serious mathematics:
Calmness = Good Photos (bar some, where the dubious face may need to be implemented - _ -
Cake + Fork + Spoon = Much Confusion
Table + Lollies = Endless Fun
Table – Lollies = Ended Fun
Hair + Hedge/Wall/Hanging Light = Zany Highjinks and Tangles :)
Asparagus = Leftovers
5 x 3 = 15
This question that has plagued us (well, maybe not so much…hands up whoever’s had loooong sleepless nights of pondering “The True Meaning of Fun”?) *cough* finally has an answer!
…and truly, who though it would involve red frogs with protruding hearts/legs, ritual group animal-print balloon sacrifice, kiwi stamped napkins (serviettes?), flower shaped butter, “being attacked by sharks,” eating cake with improvised tongs, the pitter patter of painful feet, flaunting it “what your mamma gave you”, doing U-turns on dark roads while “bussing it”, flower-fueled head-banging, staring down the barrel of a camera, discovering the monarch of all things pancake, the lies, deception and subterfuge of the Non-Wedge, and an accidental subscription to a year’s worth of rain?
The 2006 Black Watch Formal is GO!
I was surprised to discover this actually, as a person who ardently despises being in photos, can’t dance, and who could actually win an Oscar for comedy merely by tottering around in high heels, my expectations were not Apollo high...(The Einstein Factor teaches me new things)
That’ll teach me for having a negative attitude…It all comes down to relaxation in the end (but not tranquility…more on that another day) Careful though…if you’re too off guard, you’ll find yourself revealing the finer facts of your past… Take this from having learnt the hard way: you might think that everyone stockpiled butter packets in case of earthquakes when they were young…but you’d be wrong :P All in all, what I'm trying to say is: WOOT!
So unable to think of a way to adequately finish this off, lets get into some serious mathematics:
Calmness = Good Photos (bar some, where the dubious face may need to be implemented - _ -
Cake + Fork + Spoon = Much Confusion
Table + Lollies = Endless Fun
Table – Lollies = Ended Fun
Hair + Hedge/Wall/Hanging Light = Zany Highjinks and Tangles :)
Asparagus = Leftovers
5 x 3 = 15
Monday, May 01, 2006
Unexpected Scrutiny
It was one day, when I was sitting in the car, that the realisation finally hit me. For my whole life, until that point, the thought had never really crossed my mind, or if it had, it had been of so little significance, that I had cast it aside before really going into the depths of it. The fact is, you are not, as previously thought, in your own, relatively private world, shaded behind the surrounding glass: you can be seen, by everybody and anybody… you are horribly exposed to the outside world.
Now maybe this doesn’t sound that remarkable. I mean, obviously, people can see you, it’s not as though I used to think that, the moment you hopped into the car, you assimilated yourself into a world of invisibility, where, behind the tinted windows, you could do as you liked. But, there was always a sense, that when you’re in your car, you’re not as apparent to the outside world, as you are when, say, you’re walking down Rundle Mall wearing a jumper of which you are dubious about the nature of its social acceptability…(or, looking as though you have just emerged from spending the last week of your life living in a puddle, as I did this morning…quote of the day: ((little girl talking to her dad, and pointing at me)) “look at that lady’s hair ”) It was just the sudden shock of realising, you are just as visible when you are coasting along the road, as when you are out walking.
The same thing applies when you’re a pedestrian. You don’t think anyone’s watching you as prance about, swinging bags, or stacking it over a loose piece of pavement, because they’re just cars whizzing by, not people…
How wrong we were. Anyways, that thought weirded me out, so I thought I’d share.
To put a Harry Potter spin on the matter:
Now maybe this doesn’t sound that remarkable. I mean, obviously, people can see you, it’s not as though I used to think that, the moment you hopped into the car, you assimilated yourself into a world of invisibility, where, behind the tinted windows, you could do as you liked. But, there was always a sense, that when you’re in your car, you’re not as apparent to the outside world, as you are when, say, you’re walking down Rundle Mall wearing a jumper of which you are dubious about the nature of its social acceptability…(or, looking as though you have just emerged from spending the last week of your life living in a puddle, as I did this morning…quote of the day: ((little girl talking to her dad, and pointing at me)) “look at that lady’s hair ”) It was just the sudden shock of realising, you are just as visible when you are coasting along the road, as when you are out walking.
The same thing applies when you’re a pedestrian. You don’t think anyone’s watching you as prance about, swinging bags, or stacking it over a loose piece of pavement, because they’re just cars whizzing by, not people…
How wrong we were. Anyways, that thought weirded me out, so I thought I’d share.
To put a Harry Potter spin on the matter:
Thursday, April 20, 2006
The Real Monopoly
Have you ever walked down a street only to find yourself being sucked inside a building and having money demanded from you by a card wielding property owner?
Monopoly - Teaching us how to function in the real world.
It’s the educational board game that teaches you real life values, and how to handle yourself in the property market. If you play your cards right (literally) you can become a multi-thousandanaire by the end of three hours, and have driven your whole family into bankruptcy or debt.
Conversely, the player who started on a roll (of the lucky dice persuasion) could be holding you and your friends to such a high ransom, that you quake with fear every time you see yourself rounding a corner heavy in enemy houses…
Just. Like. Real. Life.
…or not.
But what would life be like if it really was reflective of a good ‘ol game of Monoppers?
So we’ve covered the whole being suckedbysuperhumanforcesintoahouse side of things, lets get into the whole going to jail aspect.
It’s a nice day, and one is happily walking along when: WHOA! Teleportation Device!!! Suddenly they find themselves trapped in a square prison, diagonally opposite from where they were. But hey, its all good because they can easily get out by either paying $50 worth of bail, or having three cracks at displaying mean feats of luck-having. It’s all good.
They’re out again, and ready to get back to toddling down the street. But HALT! You have to throw a dice to see how many plots of land you can pass! 7 Houses later, “oh good! One of the only three other people who can potentially purchase land in this neighbourhood has neglected to buy this particular property!” Quickly whip out your wallet and take out a percentage of your total of $1500 and pay the bank (which is conveniently located within arms reach) and immediately receive the title of the house.
You wait for the other people to move, then again throw the dice. “CRAP!” you find yourself standing on a giant question mark/hat which tells you that it is necessary for you to pay $100 to everyone else within eyesight for some random reason. Pay up, or you’ll be kicked off the street and into oblivion.
Next move, you find yourself receiving $200 merely for walking around in a complete circle…can’t keep if for long however, because you find that you’ve landed in the tax office, which immediately demands that you pay them for having the sheer AUDACITY to step within ten metres of their building. There goes that windfall…
And then the whole cycle begins again, with the two/three/four/five/six of you circling the block over and over and over again, until finally one of you is rolling in money, whilst the others are frantically searching for things to mortgage, despite being sound in the knowledge that they will never be out of debt for long enough to purchase extensions for their suckinginrenters properties…
Ah well, though maybe not so realistic its definitely an interesting concept.
…and a very fun game!:P
Monopoly - Teaching us how to function in the real world.
It’s the educational board game that teaches you real life values, and how to handle yourself in the property market. If you play your cards right (literally) you can become a multi-thousandanaire by the end of three hours, and have driven your whole family into bankruptcy or debt.
Conversely, the player who started on a roll (of the lucky dice persuasion) could be holding you and your friends to such a high ransom, that you quake with fear every time you see yourself rounding a corner heavy in enemy houses…
Just. Like. Real. Life.
…or not.
But what would life be like if it really was reflective of a good ‘ol game of Monoppers?
So we’ve covered the whole being suckedbysuperhumanforcesintoahouse side of things, lets get into the whole going to jail aspect.
It’s a nice day, and one is happily walking along when: WHOA! Teleportation Device!!! Suddenly they find themselves trapped in a square prison, diagonally opposite from where they were. But hey, its all good because they can easily get out by either paying $50 worth of bail, or having three cracks at displaying mean feats of luck-having. It’s all good.
They’re out again, and ready to get back to toddling down the street. But HALT! You have to throw a dice to see how many plots of land you can pass! 7 Houses later, “oh good! One of the only three other people who can potentially purchase land in this neighbourhood has neglected to buy this particular property!” Quickly whip out your wallet and take out a percentage of your total of $1500 and pay the bank (which is conveniently located within arms reach) and immediately receive the title of the house.
You wait for the other people to move, then again throw the dice. “CRAP!” you find yourself standing on a giant question mark/hat which tells you that it is necessary for you to pay $100 to everyone else within eyesight for some random reason. Pay up, or you’ll be kicked off the street and into oblivion.
Next move, you find yourself receiving $200 merely for walking around in a complete circle…can’t keep if for long however, because you find that you’ve landed in the tax office, which immediately demands that you pay them for having the sheer AUDACITY to step within ten metres of their building. There goes that windfall…
And then the whole cycle begins again, with the two/three/four/five/six of you circling the block over and over and over again, until finally one of you is rolling in money, whilst the others are frantically searching for things to mortgage, despite being sound in the knowledge that they will never be out of debt for long enough to purchase extensions for their suckinginrenters properties…
Ah well, though maybe not so realistic its definitely an interesting concept.
…and a very fun game!:P
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Down with Doors!
As the dominant species on earth we have evolved with intelligence, (which, interestingly I just misspelt…twice) intellect and most importantly, independence, the ability to do things for ourselves…or at least we like to think so.
You’re walking along. It isn't really important where. The only matter of significance is that at the end of the walk, you are aiming to find yourself within a building/shop/classroom (because, like, classrooms and shops aren’t classified as buildings…) Your target comes into sight, the door is only seven steps away and….
Here we take a brief interlude. See, at this point, we are still the picture perfect image of what a dominant species should be. We have the motivation , the willpower and the arm strength to just step forward, and open the door. It is here that society begins to unravel.
…out of nowhere comes someone else, heading towards the same building!!! You’re still about 3.78 metres away, so they get there first and casually swing the door open. That’s where it happens. Something inherent in your mind snaps. You just have to get to the door before it closes.
90 degrees, 70 degrees, 45 degrees…it swings closer and closer to the doorframe. Lurching forward, you get to it just the final inch disappears. Feeling victorious, you swing the door wide open and strut indoors; the hero of the hour.
But what happens if you don’t get there in time? In floods come the depression, the anger, the angst. Second guessing yourself, wondering why, why you couldn’t get there just a nanosecond earlier…
Why do we care so much? If only that other person had not stepped in, there wouldn’t have been an issue. We are all perfectly capable of opening a door.
Maybe it has something to do with the same impulse that powers people to drive across 70 metres of car park to put their rubbish in the dumpster…
So, we have so many books, movies, poems etc. about the inherent flaw within mankind, and the tragic “human condition.” All exploring in excruciating detail, what we are doing to bring about our own downfall, never offering solutions, just doom, gloom, sadness and sorrow, all reasons why there’ll be badness tomorrow...
Did they ever just think to get rid of all doors?
Oh, and this is a good site…if you can catch it :P
You’re walking along. It isn't really important where. The only matter of significance is that at the end of the walk, you are aiming to find yourself within a building/shop/classroom (because, like, classrooms and shops aren’t classified as buildings…) Your target comes into sight, the door is only seven steps away and….
Here we take a brief interlude. See, at this point, we are still the picture perfect image of what a dominant species should be. We have the motivation , the willpower and the arm strength to just step forward, and open the door. It is here that society begins to unravel.
…out of nowhere comes someone else, heading towards the same building!!! You’re still about 3.78 metres away, so they get there first and casually swing the door open. That’s where it happens. Something inherent in your mind snaps. You just have to get to the door before it closes.
90 degrees, 70 degrees, 45 degrees…it swings closer and closer to the doorframe. Lurching forward, you get to it just the final inch disappears. Feeling victorious, you swing the door wide open and strut indoors; the hero of the hour.
But what happens if you don’t get there in time? In floods come the depression, the anger, the angst. Second guessing yourself, wondering why, why you couldn’t get there just a nanosecond earlier…
Why do we care so much? If only that other person had not stepped in, there wouldn’t have been an issue. We are all perfectly capable of opening a door.
Maybe it has something to do with the same impulse that powers people to drive across 70 metres of car park to put their rubbish in the dumpster…
So, we have so many books, movies, poems etc. about the inherent flaw within mankind, and the tragic “human condition.” All exploring in excruciating detail, what we are doing to bring about our own downfall, never offering solutions, just doom, gloom, sadness and sorrow, all reasons why there’ll be badness tomorrow...
Did they ever just think to get rid of all doors?
Oh, and this is a good site…if you can catch it :P
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Flamingos are Overrated
Thundering along as though friction was something for the weak of heart, Red forces the yellow behind the pin with a gentle-yet-menacing “flpff,” to a position which would take even a skilled player at least two shots to recover from. Through the deafening silence a British Accent seizes the opportunity to interject… ”Jolly good shot!” it says, and with that, the entire process begins again.
Yes, the day has come. Where once it was the celebrated stomping ground of a Flamingo-wielding Queen with a penchant for abusing hedgehogs and beheading personified cards, Croquet has become: the new “it” teenage sport.
Now, although some have foregone their opportunity to stare Alice in Wonderland in the face and say “you’re using the wrong mallet,” 20+ year 12 students have relished the opportunity to hit coloured spheres through tiny archways using only a very, very large gavel (or was that mallet?) and their extremely superior tactical skills.
Now “stalk it, STALK IT” have joined the ranks of “cool” and “like” (a word that “isn’t even slang, it just doesn’t make sense” – Dad) in the exclusive literary marvel that is: teenage vocabulary.
Not only does it enrich your language, Croquet is also therapeutic. In games such as football, (which was SO good!) rugby or soccer, aggression is not only obvious, but can also be penalised. However, in Croquet, it is actually tactical. Knocking someone else’s ball out of the way gives you another shot…”oops, knocked it too far…didn’t mean to!” It’s passive aggressive heaven!
It’s a game in which you don’t need to: run, jump over things (though there are a few “wayward” balls that can suddenly come hurtling in your direction…again with the passive aggressive :P ) be attached to another person by means of skipping rope, fall off a bike, or even walk long distances. Yet, at the same time, it is good for improving hand eye coordination, “social skills”, and frustration management (a new and improved form of “anger management”) when everyone else is standing around the pin, ball in hand, watching in amusement as your ball bounces off the archway, and somehow, defying physics, shoots off at 45 degrees towards the next field…good times.
So for all of you wondering, what is high on a teenage mind’s priority list? Formal dresses? Hasn’t even begun to enter into common room conversations. Parties or going out? Not with all the exciting study there is to do. Television or movies? Well, yes. But really, at the moment only one word is tantamount to understanding the teenage psyche, and that is: “flpff.”
Yes, the day has come. Where once it was the celebrated stomping ground of a Flamingo-wielding Queen with a penchant for abusing hedgehogs and beheading personified cards, Croquet has become: the new “it” teenage sport.
Now, although some have foregone their opportunity to stare Alice in Wonderland in the face and say “you’re using the wrong mallet,” 20+ year 12 students have relished the opportunity to hit coloured spheres through tiny archways using only a very, very large gavel (or was that mallet?) and their extremely superior tactical skills.
Now “stalk it, STALK IT” have joined the ranks of “cool” and “like” (a word that “isn’t even slang, it just doesn’t make sense” – Dad) in the exclusive literary marvel that is: teenage vocabulary.
Not only does it enrich your language, Croquet is also therapeutic. In games such as football, (which was SO good!) rugby or soccer, aggression is not only obvious, but can also be penalised. However, in Croquet, it is actually tactical. Knocking someone else’s ball out of the way gives you another shot…”oops, knocked it too far…didn’t mean to!” It’s passive aggressive heaven!
It’s a game in which you don’t need to: run, jump over things (though there are a few “wayward” balls that can suddenly come hurtling in your direction…again with the passive aggressive :P ) be attached to another person by means of skipping rope, fall off a bike, or even walk long distances. Yet, at the same time, it is good for improving hand eye coordination, “social skills”, and frustration management (a new and improved form of “anger management”) when everyone else is standing around the pin, ball in hand, watching in amusement as your ball bounces off the archway, and somehow, defying physics, shoots off at 45 degrees towards the next field…good times.
So for all of you wondering, what is high on a teenage mind’s priority list? Formal dresses? Hasn’t even begun to enter into common room conversations. Parties or going out? Not with all the exciting study there is to do. Television or movies? Well, yes. But really, at the moment only one word is tantamount to understanding the teenage psyche, and that is: “flpff.”
Monday, February 27, 2006
Decisions Decisions
Whoever said that you become more decisive the older you get? (Actually, I don’t think anyone said it, but it did make for a more dramatic and forceful opening…I hope) Decisiveness, or lack there of. Why is it so difficult to make decisions?
Having just completed a Physics Practical which took a large chunk of the weekend, and several dollars off my subjective goodwill assets (gotta love accounting) through my many, many questions, it has now been shown that the experiment proves absolutely nothing.
So after an introduction that is worse than “Australia’s Brainiest…” jokes (and maybe even some of those quips “Biggest Loser” hosts come out with) what is the point?
The experiment. The whole point: find a linear function to show that period is directly proportional to radius, and show whether it is positive or negative. Fair enough. Pretty straight forward. At least, if you’re not in the group which managed to produce a Quadratic!!! Yes, that’s right. Logic goes straight out the window, because our results simultaneously support and disprove the hypothesis. The future of science is in good hands.
However, if you look at this result from a different angle, it is a fantastic representation of what has been an ever-increasing problem: indecisiveness.
Gone are the days when you could straight out answer “what is your favourite colour?” What once was “blue!’ has now become “it depends on what day it is,” or “what accessories can I match to it?”
Breakfast: it used to be YoGo, but with age comes responsibility, and with responsibility comes choices. Hot or cold? Yoghurt or Toast? (cereal doesn’t come into it) Peanut Butter or Nutulla? Nearly having a nervous breakdown going over pros and cons of various toppings the day of a big test? This is the reward for becoming “maturing young adults.”
I think the problem now is that we’re too informed. Life used to be black and white. Everything had one answer, and one alone. But now? It’s no longer the toss of a coin, or even the roll of a dice. Hey, we’d be lucky if it were a three dimensional do-decahedron shaped thingy… Too Many Options! Too Many Factors to Take into Consideration!!
Yoghurt is quick to eat (unless you forget a spoon) but can leave you in the weird state between full and bleugggh. Hot or cold depends on the weather outside. Peanut butter sticks to the roof of your mouth, and Nutella had lots of sugar…but really it comes down to how much time you have to brush your teeth before you leap down the lift shaft and into the bus.
But then after all the assessing and weighing, someone will ask you something, and there it is: The Rash Decision…
What else is there to say, but HELP!!!
Having just completed a Physics Practical which took a large chunk of the weekend, and several dollars off my subjective goodwill assets (gotta love accounting) through my many, many questions, it has now been shown that the experiment proves absolutely nothing.
So after an introduction that is worse than “Australia’s Brainiest…” jokes (and maybe even some of those quips “Biggest Loser” hosts come out with) what is the point?
The experiment. The whole point: find a linear function to show that period is directly proportional to radius, and show whether it is positive or negative. Fair enough. Pretty straight forward. At least, if you’re not in the group which managed to produce a Quadratic!!! Yes, that’s right. Logic goes straight out the window, because our results simultaneously support and disprove the hypothesis. The future of science is in good hands.
However, if you look at this result from a different angle, it is a fantastic representation of what has been an ever-increasing problem: indecisiveness.
Gone are the days when you could straight out answer “what is your favourite colour?” What once was “blue!’ has now become “it depends on what day it is,” or “what accessories can I match to it?”
Breakfast: it used to be YoGo, but with age comes responsibility, and with responsibility comes choices. Hot or cold? Yoghurt or Toast? (cereal doesn’t come into it) Peanut Butter or Nutulla? Nearly having a nervous breakdown going over pros and cons of various toppings the day of a big test? This is the reward for becoming “maturing young adults.”
I think the problem now is that we’re too informed. Life used to be black and white. Everything had one answer, and one alone. But now? It’s no longer the toss of a coin, or even the roll of a dice. Hey, we’d be lucky if it were a three dimensional do-decahedron shaped thingy… Too Many Options! Too Many Factors to Take into Consideration!!
Yoghurt is quick to eat (unless you forget a spoon) but can leave you in the weird state between full and bleugggh. Hot or cold depends on the weather outside. Peanut butter sticks to the roof of your mouth, and Nutella had lots of sugar…but really it comes down to how much time you have to brush your teeth before you leap down the lift shaft and into the bus.
But then after all the assessing and weighing, someone will ask you something, and there it is: The Rash Decision…
What else is there to say, but HELP!!!
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