James' Take Home Exam (take that HSTY 2009!):
Students must answer two questions. You must not use the same material twice. Also you can't answer two questions referencing the same material.
1. 'I wish Brian could speak so he could say 'I love you' back to me':
- Is Brian my elderly mute lover or just a small dog? Discuss
2. Critically analyse the way Brads jaw clicks when he chews.
3. If Ng was to wear white tennis shorts to a party at the Mandarin Club, to listen to Levins play mash ups of Britney and Gwen Stefani in an ironic display of coolness would you go? How many more layers does this story need to be postmodern?
4. 'It's like 10 000 spoons when all you need is a knife' - Alanis Morissette
Discuss with regard to irony.
5. Explain with reference to Foucault why Goonbag likes going to Cargo Bar so much.
6. Critically analyse End of Fashion's appearance at the Arias. Cutting edge young talent or wankers with shit hair? If you were Luke Steele would you be upset that
a) That guy from End of Fashion is going out with your sister
b) You kicked him out your band, only to have him form a new band that sold more records than 'Sleepy Jackson'.
c) Your little sisters band is also doing better than your band.
d) Ironically, in the last year, the only time anyone heard 'Sleepy Jackson on the radio' this year was indirectly through a catchy Ben Lee song.
7. Explain in less than 50 words why you would like to work at General Pants Co.
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Holy General Pants!
I took my younger brother Peach to Macquarie centre this arvo because he needed to buy some stuff so he could be cool at a party tonight - I wonder what Governer Macquarie would say if he saw his own shopping centre, he'd probably be pissed off because he couldn't get a park near Bayswiss.
Anyway, we went into General Pants because they are the preferred outfitter of cool teens. On entering the store, a hip young dude with an eyebrow ring approached us and said 'How ya going boys? What you up to?' I mumbled something about being 'Good thanks' hoping to end the conversation - not because I don't like hip dudes, I'm just not very comfortable in a retail situation. Alas, he then followed up on this with 'Dude, where'd you score that jumper from? Its rad!' I responded with 'Umm I got it from the Glebe markets ages ago...Its pretty old' (All of a sudden feeling very Fernando Frisoni 'Who's Looking Hot in Sydney' from the Sun-Herald). Fair enough, being nice to potential customers is a good way to sell stuff, but does he have to bring me to a General Pants level of wankerdom when I am clearly trying to appear distant and suttle (read blase and cool).
It didn't end there. The second, more-senior young hipster (he had a bigger set of keys, so perhaps a manager) approached with a similar opening line. He then followed up with a stare followed by 'man I have the exact same jeans, where did you get them from?' My timid and vulnerable response explained where I got said jeans from. Despite my prayers to the God of awkwardness and public-relations the conversation did not end hear. He then started to say, 'Really, I didn't think (said store) stocked (said pretentious clothing label) anymore'
'Umm I don't really know...' (read I want to go home).
He then started to regale me with an awesome story that his cousin managed a store in the Strand Arcade that was having a sale, and that I should go down. I don't really understand his logic, I'm apparently already a big enough spanner by virtue of owning these pants, why do I need more? The somewhat one-way conversation then went down the inevitable path of him telling me how many pairs of these jeans he owned, 16 I think it was? I hope he kept the tags on them, he could take them back and refund them for a deposit on a house or maybe a tank of petrol for his mums landcruiser (see, now I'm being slightly hypocritical, granted - even though my mum drives a hatch-back).
Only last night at work I was wearing the offending jeans, when a friend Kym pointed out that I was a complete hypocrite as I always am the first to call people wankers and place them in bored and generalised categories. So this story is dedicated to Kym, who has made me think that - maybe I've lost my edge? Have I sold out? In all fairness when you're as skinny as me, it is hard to find pants that aren't massive - thus jeans made to be painted on for your normal fashionista on Crown St fit me pretty well. So maybe I have sold out Kym...At least I'd blend in if I ever need to go undercover in Darlinghurst.
Anyway, we went into General Pants because they are the preferred outfitter of cool teens. On entering the store, a hip young dude with an eyebrow ring approached us and said 'How ya going boys? What you up to?' I mumbled something about being 'Good thanks' hoping to end the conversation - not because I don't like hip dudes, I'm just not very comfortable in a retail situation. Alas, he then followed up on this with 'Dude, where'd you score that jumper from? Its rad!' I responded with 'Umm I got it from the Glebe markets ages ago...Its pretty old' (All of a sudden feeling very Fernando Frisoni 'Who's Looking Hot in Sydney' from the Sun-Herald). Fair enough, being nice to potential customers is a good way to sell stuff, but does he have to bring me to a General Pants level of wankerdom when I am clearly trying to appear distant and suttle (read blase and cool).
It didn't end there. The second, more-senior young hipster (he had a bigger set of keys, so perhaps a manager) approached with a similar opening line. He then followed up with a stare followed by 'man I have the exact same jeans, where did you get them from?' My timid and vulnerable response explained where I got said jeans from. Despite my prayers to the God of awkwardness and public-relations the conversation did not end hear. He then started to say, 'Really, I didn't think (said store) stocked (said pretentious clothing label) anymore'
'Umm I don't really know...' (read I want to go home).
He then started to regale me with an awesome story that his cousin managed a store in the Strand Arcade that was having a sale, and that I should go down. I don't really understand his logic, I'm apparently already a big enough spanner by virtue of owning these pants, why do I need more? The somewhat one-way conversation then went down the inevitable path of him telling me how many pairs of these jeans he owned, 16 I think it was? I hope he kept the tags on them, he could take them back and refund them for a deposit on a house or maybe a tank of petrol for his mums landcruiser (see, now I'm being slightly hypocritical, granted - even though my mum drives a hatch-back).
Only last night at work I was wearing the offending jeans, when a friend Kym pointed out that I was a complete hypocrite as I always am the first to call people wankers and place them in bored and generalised categories. So this story is dedicated to Kym, who has made me think that - maybe I've lost my edge? Have I sold out? In all fairness when you're as skinny as me, it is hard to find pants that aren't massive - thus jeans made to be painted on for your normal fashionista on Crown St fit me pretty well. So maybe I have sold out Kym...At least I'd blend in if I ever need to go undercover in Darlinghurst.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
The Vagabond Paper's
*This column is now being renamed 'The Vagabond Papers' after this rad book I've been reading. The book is selections from a 19th century journal of this guy known as 'The Vagabond' who travelled around the world and wrote about all he saw. He was quite the humanitarian consider he was from respectability-obsessed Victorian-England, and he appeared to show a dislike for upper middle-class brats from Melbourne. I only know one of those, but I share his sentiments 150 years on and thus am keeping him alive in name at least.
*It has recently been brought to my attention that I haven't done much lately. This was pointed out to me yesterday by Brad, who upon arriving at my house to drop something off asked me what was up? I thought about it for a minute and then realised...Shit, nothing, at all - unless you want to hear about an essay I'm writing about on 'Respectability and Larrikinism' in 19th century Sydney... a gripping analysis of a dichotomy that divided the colony and I will argue, led to an notions of an imagined 'egalitarianism' that many people still think exists in this country today... Speaking of that essay, its due in 2 and a half hours and I am a good 800 words shy of finishing it, and I'm wasting all my best words here... Like amelioration and propensity!
*Additionally, my attention has been roused by more stories of this columns favourite celebrity, The Mysterious Goon Bag. The Silver Handbag has reportedly been swanning around with Brad at the races, receiving free drinks, and even meeting a bunch of Cops and getting taken home by one of them (allegedly a lady one) to their palatial Hornsby studio... Goonbag wasn't available for comment, however his mum did confirm that 'Dave's just having a sleep now but I'll get him to call you back later James'. Thank you Mrs Goulter.
*In other news, I am the flavour of the month with a selection of people's baby photos on my fridge indicating that they are having 21st Birthday parties and I am in fact invited. When discussing how to deal with multiple engagements on one night it was confirmed by a multiple sources that 'Unless you're good mates with the guy having it, you should go to the chicks one, cos there'll be more chicks there and, deducing to a greater chance of pashing someone'... For more great insights like this, stay tuned to this column, or this columns sources.
*A certain someone has let the cat out of the bag by claiming that another certain someone has assaulted their game badly by being recently seen to a certain someones former certain someone. Someone will pay for this, certainly.
*Is wearing matching aqua tights and a billowy shirt OK if you are a middle-aged Eastern Suburbs childless trophy wife? What if you aren't?
*It has recently been brought to my attention that I haven't done much lately. This was pointed out to me yesterday by Brad, who upon arriving at my house to drop something off asked me what was up? I thought about it for a minute and then realised...Shit, nothing, at all - unless you want to hear about an essay I'm writing about on 'Respectability and Larrikinism' in 19th century Sydney... a gripping analysis of a dichotomy that divided the colony and I will argue, led to an notions of an imagined 'egalitarianism' that many people still think exists in this country today... Speaking of that essay, its due in 2 and a half hours and I am a good 800 words shy of finishing it, and I'm wasting all my best words here... Like amelioration and propensity!
*Additionally, my attention has been roused by more stories of this columns favourite celebrity, The Mysterious Goon Bag. The Silver Handbag has reportedly been swanning around with Brad at the races, receiving free drinks, and even meeting a bunch of Cops and getting taken home by one of them (allegedly a lady one) to their palatial Hornsby studio... Goonbag wasn't available for comment, however his mum did confirm that 'Dave's just having a sleep now but I'll get him to call you back later James'. Thank you Mrs Goulter.
*In other news, I am the flavour of the month with a selection of people's baby photos on my fridge indicating that they are having 21st Birthday parties and I am in fact invited. When discussing how to deal with multiple engagements on one night it was confirmed by a multiple sources that 'Unless you're good mates with the guy having it, you should go to the chicks one, cos there'll be more chicks there and, deducing to a greater chance of pashing someone'... For more great insights like this, stay tuned to this column, or this columns sources.
*A certain someone has let the cat out of the bag by claiming that another certain someone has assaulted their game badly by being recently seen to a certain someones former certain someone. Someone will pay for this, certainly.
*Is wearing matching aqua tights and a billowy shirt OK if you are a middle-aged Eastern Suburbs childless trophy wife? What if you aren't?
Friday, October 07, 2005
Good Morning!
www.jamesandsteve.blogspot.com
I'd never looked at this myself until just then. Steve apparently has a blog about our top-rating late-night, fortnightly radio show on fBI 94.5FM
Good news you can now listen online at www.fbi.org.au
And no, we still don't have presenter profiles yet... One day, and I'm going to write the most amusing answers to that questionairre when we do - I will outwit and outquirk everyone if it's the last thing I do.
Highlights:
1. Very early last Saturday morning at the Crowie (yeah, so what) I said hi to this guy who was two years above us at school whose name I won't mention 'cos I might be scared of him. Anyway, being very civil I asked him how it was going. His reply went along the lines of
'Fucken, I'm fuck fucken (c-word that I never use, not even if a car ran over my foot... Unless it's an amusing word play: for example 'Don't take that rubbish from them. Stand up and be cunted!')
So I said 'Cool, so you've had a good night then?'
....
The story goes on, but you know those people who always get aggressively defensive (oxymoron anyone?) For example, if I were to ask you, the reader, 'Where are you working at the moment?'
non aggressive-defensive response: 'I'm working in a pub at the moment, I quite enjoy it'
aggressive-defensive response: 'What am I doing? Mate I work in a pub, I don't give a fuck, whatever y'know... Yeah I live with my parents, fuck, I don't care...Fuck, I do whatever the fuck I want...'
A defensive-aggressive responder has many of traits of an aggressive arsehole, with the difference being that an aggressive-arsehole usually doesn't feel the need to justify themself to other people that haven't even called them into question.
* On another note my brother met Tim Rogers in Ireland last week. They had a short conversation before the Youami frontman said: 'You better go to bed mate, you look pretty fucked'
The Pride inside me! Pubes has kicked a goal!
* Rumours:
A certain someone is in a certain someone elses bad books after a certain someone called that certain someone a junkie. In all fairness to the certain someone, apparently just cos you take a butt-load of drugs it doesn't make you a junkie. It just makes you cool as shit.
Stay tuned for previews of this Spring Carnival's blockbuster: 'There's Something About Brad'. Brad has been reported to be suited, booted and carving up Randwick and surrounding night spots - Despite a few losses on the horses, Brad appears to have more than enough Philly's to soften the blow (hahahahaha)
I'm starting a 'The Streets' cover band. I will be on lead vocals...
I'd never looked at this myself until just then. Steve apparently has a blog about our top-rating late-night, fortnightly radio show on fBI 94.5FM
Good news you can now listen online at www.fbi.org.au
And no, we still don't have presenter profiles yet... One day, and I'm going to write the most amusing answers to that questionairre when we do - I will outwit and outquirk everyone if it's the last thing I do.
Highlights:
1. Very early last Saturday morning at the Crowie (yeah, so what) I said hi to this guy who was two years above us at school whose name I won't mention 'cos I might be scared of him. Anyway, being very civil I asked him how it was going. His reply went along the lines of
'Fucken, I'm fuck fucken (c-word that I never use, not even if a car ran over my foot... Unless it's an amusing word play: for example 'Don't take that rubbish from them. Stand up and be cunted!')
So I said 'Cool, so you've had a good night then?'
....
The story goes on, but you know those people who always get aggressively defensive (oxymoron anyone?) For example, if I were to ask you, the reader, 'Where are you working at the moment?'
non aggressive-defensive response: 'I'm working in a pub at the moment, I quite enjoy it'
aggressive-defensive response: 'What am I doing? Mate I work in a pub, I don't give a fuck, whatever y'know... Yeah I live with my parents, fuck, I don't care...Fuck, I do whatever the fuck I want...'
A defensive-aggressive responder has many of traits of an aggressive arsehole, with the difference being that an aggressive-arsehole usually doesn't feel the need to justify themself to other people that haven't even called them into question.
* On another note my brother met Tim Rogers in Ireland last week. They had a short conversation before the Youami frontman said: 'You better go to bed mate, you look pretty fucked'
The Pride inside me! Pubes has kicked a goal!
* Rumours:
A certain someone is in a certain someone elses bad books after a certain someone called that certain someone a junkie. In all fairness to the certain someone, apparently just cos you take a butt-load of drugs it doesn't make you a junkie. It just makes you cool as shit.
Stay tuned for previews of this Spring Carnival's blockbuster: 'There's Something About Brad'. Brad has been reported to be suited, booted and carving up Randwick and surrounding night spots - Despite a few losses on the horses, Brad appears to have more than enough Philly's to soften the blow (hahahahaha)
I'm starting a 'The Streets' cover band. I will be on lead vocals...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
