Archive for June, 2008

Random Recycle episodes 1-3

June 26, 2008

Here’s a big treat, kiddies: the first three episodes of Random Recycle, uploaded and subtitled for your viewing pleasure! Experience the unerring brilliance of my recycling skills in three different cities, and marvel at the fantastic video quality, flawless camera work and complete lack of autocue! 

N.B. That’s a fugue by Bach in the background…I figured I should go with music where no one would come after be with a machete for copyright violation. And, as will be obvious, I had some issues with the subtitle conversion — originally they were different colours, and all those </i>s flanking words meant they were once italicised. But c’est la vie.

Winter

June 17, 2008

Those of you living in the Northern hemisphere or anyone who is basically ignorant of standard weather patterns (whatever that means these days) may not realise Winter is in full swing in Melbourne at the moment. In my little home > school > home microcosm, that means about forty minutes spent in bed every morning contemplating how cold it will be when I manage to get out of it, and then a good portion of the rest of the day cursing and stabbing newspaper images of politicians with bobby pins for not funding government schools properly and making us work in unheated portables (though the good news is that D12’s air con can now produce cold air, which will be much appreciated in Summer but is of absolutely no use to us now). There are, however, parts of the school, oases if you will, that provide much-needed relief from the barrage of wintry days. And thus, at Shakespeare’s expense, I dedicate this blog entry to one who has held my affection throughout my May-August schooldays:

Ode to the Art Room Heater

  Shall I compare thee to a particularly sunburn-inducing summer’s day?

  Thou art more steely and more temperamental.

  Rough winds do issue from thy darling vent decayed,

  And summer’s lack of ozone to you is all too inconsequential.

  Sometime too hot thy gaseous flame burns,

  And often is my cold complexion reddened;

  And every sprocket from sprocket sometime churns,

  By antiquation, or lack of recent servicing, steadened:

  

  

  But thy artificial summer shall not fade

  Nor lose possession of that powerboard thou hog

  Nor shall I heed what the warning bell bade

  When externally there is fog

  So long as students have exams and remain unfree,

  So long lives school, and by thine side I’ll be

(And yes, I totally stuffed up the iambic pentameter and made up a word or two, but when it comes to heater love that kind of thing just doesn’t matter, OK? Also, I realise that heaters probably don’t have sprockets, but it’s better than the original draft, which was on about “cogs”). 

R.I.P Storm Arrow Duncan

June 15, 2008

2001-2008

What not to eat: Part II

June 8, 2008

And so the onslaught continues:

BEETROOT

Many a good vegie burger has been ruined by the presence of this nefarious manifestation of root vegetableness. I have a lot of bad memories that involve picking bits of beetroot out of otherwise fine cuisine long before I started school. And it wouldn’t be half as bad if beetroot slivers were self-contained, but NO — beetroot’s vile maroon juice seeps into everything, imbuing other innocent foods with its maleficent gall! Remove beetroot from dishes before it’s too late.

DAIKON

If you enjoy food that makes your tongue sting with a bitter aftertaste, then by all means eat daikon. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. (Salads will never be safe again).

CORIANDER

The first time I ate coriander I experienced a thoroughly strange sensation in my nose and sinuses. I have since (accidentally) partaken of this horrid ingredient without the same reaction, leading me to believe it probably had more to do with being in Queensland than the coriander. Still, I can’t stand this herb in all its ghastly forms, and as far as I’m concerned it should be avoided as much as inhumanly possible.

N.B. [None of these images are mine --open them in a new window to find their original source]

Aviva’s guide to not getting mugged on the way home from uni in the dead of night (and by ‘dead of night’ I mean about 8 o’clock)

June 4, 2008

Several months of incessant paranoia-mongering by my parents and other Concerned Friends and Neighbours has not exactly made my walk and tram ride home every Tuesday night a pleasurable experience. Add to this classic examples of prescribed university reading like this from a chap called Buchloh,

“…both caricature and mask conceive of a person’s physiognomy as fixed rather than a fluid field; in singling out particular traits, they reduce the infinity of differential facial expressions to a metonymic set. Thus, the fixity of the mask and caricature deny outright the promise of fullness and traditional aspirations toward an organic mediation of the essential characteristics of the differentiated bourgeois subject…”

and you are hardly in a state of mind to be worrying about whether or not that guy with the cello case who’s been tailing you for the last few streets has the intention or even the ability to corner you in a dark and bin juice-soaked alleyway. Ergo, I have produced my Fail Safe Anti-Mug Guide for the homebound and probably hungry university student:

Step 1: Preparation

Now, I know shoulder bags and totes sporting retro designs most people have forgotten the significance of is extremely fashionable practice at the moment, but this makes you easy prey for the Potential Mugger: he/she/it must simply yank the bag from its precarious position on your shoulder to have succeeded in the nefarious act. The good old fashioned backpack, however, requires twice as much effort to steal, being firmly secured over two shoulders (and with the added virtue of not causing nearly as much neck strain). Sure, Potential Mugger (hereby abbreviated to PM, which does not stand for the head of our executive (after the Queen of England and the Governor General, of course) or pre-menstrual anything, by the way) could simply extricate the contents of your backpack with a few swipes of its nasty claws, but that’s what jumbo padlocks are for.

Step 2: Going home

Watch the traffic. You may think you’re being followed by that possessed-looking woman in the parachute pants, but that’s no excuse to keep your eyes off the Urban Assault Vehicles and elderly volvos clogging up the streets. This is also not a time to be listening to Ramstein on your iPod or equivalent portable music player. If you can simply not get your walking mojo without some kind of music, then keep one ear earbud-free, just like you do in class, when talking to friends, during sleep etc. This will aid your aural detection of impending muggings (classic signs include suspiciously well-timed footsteps falling behind yours, screams, the singing of AFL team songs and womanly shrieks of “Stop! Thief!”).

You should also try to keep to brightly-lit and well populated streets, though this precludes large drunken gangs of baby boomers in denial and poor students, in addition to the entrances of nightclubs (look out for obscene/strobe lighting and dodgy music). If your journey home happens to involve some mode of public transport, general overpacking of carriages thanks to the apathy of Connex and Yarra Trams makes it unlikely you will be ostentatiously mugged if indeed you manage to board your ride home (assuming it arrives) and not suffocate from lack of ventilation. You have now, sadly, entered the domain of pickpockets (for the best advice in this situation, see Aviva’s Guide To Not Being Robbed Blind On Public Transport, And I Don’t Mean From The Myki Stuff Up).

Step 3: Arm Yourself

This step should have probably come earlier, but cbf going back and editing now. Anyway, if you feel the necessity, find some seemingly innocent and relatively sharp object in you backpack (e.g. house keys, common pencil case scissors) and have them at the ready should a PM jump out at you. Popular positions for your weapon include in between your index and middle finger (Wolverine-style) or concealed in a hat/scarf/secret compartment of your thongs (and I’m talking about footwear here, people). But arming yourself should only be a precautionary measure. I am not instructing you to maul people you don’t like, however their smarmy faces may tempt you. You will be surprised how well a perpetual scowl and arrogant stride will protect you from PMs and their secret insecurities.

Step 4: Arriving Home

Time to gloat along the lines of “I told you I wouldn’t be mugged on the way home from uni in the dead of night”. To which they may reply, “I would hardly call 8 o’clock the dead of night, V”, to which I (I mean ‘you’) should reply, “What’s for dinner?”.

Soaptopia

June 1, 2008

(Continued from Guangzhou, Shanghai)

I spent the last leg of my (Australian) summer holidays in Taiwan, which, scarily enough, is almost six months ago. Now Taiwan isn’t exactly the first place most people think to go when they’re planning their East Asian travel adventure, but Mum and I were on a mission: we were determined to reach The Source of our favourite Taiwanese soap operas. Having seen over 20 last year, this tiny island half the size of Tasmania became something akin to Mecca for us. So after finishing my studies on the mainland and our brief visit to Shanghai, we flew to Hong Kong airport (of which I retain a mortal fear after receiving two temperature checks by overzealous staff and almost missing my flight) and onwards to Chiang Kai Shek Airport, Taipei. Being somewhat excited and delusional, we had booked nothing except our accommodation, so we spent the next two weeks pretty much suiting ourselves and getting lost regularly.

You know you’re in a great place when its most famous boyband is there to welcome you at the airport

Taiwan receives virtually no Western tourism apart from people there on business, so there was something more authentic about the whole experience as we made our way through tiny streets full of food stalls, fell in love with the extraordinarily fantastic metro system, and bought exorbitant amounts of Taiwanese pop culture merchandise (we had to buy another suitcase to cart it all home). (more…)