Imagine me sitting at home growling. Why am I growling, you ask? It's quite simple, really. Once again, I am questioning the purpose of the existence of academics and postgraduate students.
I went to a Postgrad Symposium for Humanities students today at the university I attend, Canterbury. Discussion: The end of the Humanities? (Literature, history, philosophy...)
It's disillusioning, you know, having to sit there listening to people who know how to talk the talk, know how to be provocative, know how to ARGUE - because that's what we "humanities" are good at - and disagreeing fundamentally with most of what is being said. According to one speaker, who is very eminent and very gifted and all that but who, I find, is on a completely different wavelength to mine, what the Humanities need to do to survive is to marry philosophy of the history of aesthetics with Darwinian psychology. Er, really? And how is your particular research interest, sir, practically supposed to work itself out? How exactly will this attract students? And how do you propose to make everyone think in the same framework?
Then you have to listen to people saying that maybe what the Humanities really need to do is to work out how to communicate to The Public so we can get more funding.
Or people saying that things have changed now and how worrying it is that modern third-year students refuse to read a 500-page novel for an undergraduate English paper; instead they'll just make something up when asked about it and it will sound okay.
And here is my opinion. (You knew that it was coming, right?)
The one thing I agreed on with the professor mentioned above was that the Humanities weren't killed; they committed suicide in the 70s and 80s. Suicide by deconstructionalism and postmodernism.
You want to know why the Humanities are disappearing from the priorities of government, university bosses and the public? It's because of cynicism. Cynicism created by academics whose sole purpose in life is to get more funding, like in the comment I mentioned above. More funding so they can put out more postmodern s*** that tells us that basically everything we do is meaningless and we can't ever know anything and "the fact" is an incredibly suspect idea. Cynicism created by departments like the English department at my university, who taught me so well that by the time I was in my final undergraduate year of my BA, I could churn out an English essay that I knew very well would get an A or an A+ because I'd figured out how to play the system; how to give the lecturers what they wanted, on questions I couldn't care less about or giving answers I fundamentally despised. You are taught very well by the Humanities, taught how to appear rebellious or original or boundary-pushing but how to all say the same thing, or how to all agree with your lecturer.
The only reason I didn't become completely disillusioned with the Humanities was that I had a history lecturer who cared very, very much about his topic and what he was teaching. I got idealistic. I became convinced that History is important, that it matters, that the memory of things like Stalin, the Crusades, the Holocaust, the Inquisitions, et cetera NEED TO BE PRESERVED. We must know why people did these things or put up with these things. We must keep our portrayal of our history honest. It won't necessarily regulate our own society today but we must try.
The Humanities must become humanitarian. We must care about what we study, we must let it affect our lives today, we must communicate this passion to our society. People want to care about what they do. They don't want to sit there listening to some angry, bitter lecturer deconstructing their favourite novel into a morass of constructs. What they want is something that matters.
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Monday, February 08, 2010
on music
I've been listening to Concert FM a lot lately - it is the only radio station in NZ that plays classical music (as well as jazz, folk, world music or other forms that don't get played on other radio stations). They sometimes have interviews with people which are often quite interesting, because they pick people who normally would be completely ignored by mainstream media.
However, there was an interview the other day that completely bugged me and here is the general gist of it. I WILL be dumbing it down and probably misrepresenting the complexities of this guy's ideas, but this is how it appeared to me.
They were interviewing an academic who has written a book about the future of music and the problems music faces today. He thinks that "Music", as it stands, is constrained by really limiting rules of, oh, harmony and rhythm, which exclude people who don't fit into those rules and which exclude other forms of audio material which should really be seen as Music too.
The idea of Music as limited by rhythm was forced upon the world by Pythagoras and we've all been playing along ever since, as if it were ordained that Music should incorporate timing. This is nothing less than - and I quote - "METAPHYSICAL FASCISM".
Folk music is more likely to step outside the box than "classical" or high class music, whereas all the bad smart people at universities or conservatories around the world have been grinding under their thumb the development of Music into a more inclusive art form.
Just in case my feelings about this are not yet clear: What utter crap.
Firstly, it's completely typical of an academic like this to "speak for" the lower classes, or for more earthy forms of music such as folk. I suspect that if you go and speak to the people he's claiming to speak for, or tried to play them the type of audio he would like to see classed as music, they would cover their ears in disgust, run away, and go back to enjoying their rhythmic, harmonic music.
Secondly, it's completely typical of an academic like this to use big words like "dialectic" or "metaphysical fascism" in the hope that this will awe critics into submission.
Thirdly, although he may claim music is too limiting and there are too many rules, he is simply creating a new structure into which he thinks people should fit. In fact, the rules of music are continually being bent by good musicians and composers. They are an exciting box within which to work, in my opinion, just like the form of the sonnet which Shakespeare worked within, but fiddled with. This academic seems to be suggesting that all rules are bad, all boundaries are bad, and all boxes must be broken. It sounds okay, it sounds romantic, but it is not actually reflective of reality, and it seems like he completely ignores the amazing variety which harmonic and rhythmic music has produced over even the last hundred years, let alone all time.
Fourthly, unfortunately for this academic, as much as he may theorise, people listen to music that pleases them. There is something about rhythm and something about harmony that is not simply an idea; it clicks with something inside us and once we've got it, we can't give it up. I'm not saying that everybody likes the same harmonies or rhythms, which is clearly untrue. And there is an element of truth in the idea that we like what we've been conditioned to like. BUT! Music in all its forms will endure, whatever he has to say about it, because people like it. There is no secret governing body out there forcing everybody to listen to the music they approve of. Instead, he seems to be setting himself up as some authority on what people should do - and he is doomed to failure.
What do you think? Will we all be dancing to the sound of discordant harmonies and beatless music in fifty years? Am I just reactionary?
However, there was an interview the other day that completely bugged me and here is the general gist of it. I WILL be dumbing it down and probably misrepresenting the complexities of this guy's ideas, but this is how it appeared to me.
They were interviewing an academic who has written a book about the future of music and the problems music faces today. He thinks that "Music", as it stands, is constrained by really limiting rules of, oh, harmony and rhythm, which exclude people who don't fit into those rules and which exclude other forms of audio material which should really be seen as Music too.
The idea of Music as limited by rhythm was forced upon the world by Pythagoras and we've all been playing along ever since, as if it were ordained that Music should incorporate timing. This is nothing less than - and I quote - "METAPHYSICAL FASCISM".
Folk music is more likely to step outside the box than "classical" or high class music, whereas all the bad smart people at universities or conservatories around the world have been grinding under their thumb the development of Music into a more inclusive art form.
Just in case my feelings about this are not yet clear: What utter crap.
Firstly, it's completely typical of an academic like this to "speak for" the lower classes, or for more earthy forms of music such as folk. I suspect that if you go and speak to the people he's claiming to speak for, or tried to play them the type of audio he would like to see classed as music, they would cover their ears in disgust, run away, and go back to enjoying their rhythmic, harmonic music.
Secondly, it's completely typical of an academic like this to use big words like "dialectic" or "metaphysical fascism" in the hope that this will awe critics into submission.
Thirdly, although he may claim music is too limiting and there are too many rules, he is simply creating a new structure into which he thinks people should fit. In fact, the rules of music are continually being bent by good musicians and composers. They are an exciting box within which to work, in my opinion, just like the form of the sonnet which Shakespeare worked within, but fiddled with. This academic seems to be suggesting that all rules are bad, all boundaries are bad, and all boxes must be broken. It sounds okay, it sounds romantic, but it is not actually reflective of reality, and it seems like he completely ignores the amazing variety which harmonic and rhythmic music has produced over even the last hundred years, let alone all time.
Fourthly, unfortunately for this academic, as much as he may theorise, people listen to music that pleases them. There is something about rhythm and something about harmony that is not simply an idea; it clicks with something inside us and once we've got it, we can't give it up. I'm not saying that everybody likes the same harmonies or rhythms, which is clearly untrue. And there is an element of truth in the idea that we like what we've been conditioned to like. BUT! Music in all its forms will endure, whatever he has to say about it, because people like it. There is no secret governing body out there forcing everybody to listen to the music they approve of. Instead, he seems to be setting himself up as some authority on what people should do - and he is doomed to failure.
What do you think? Will we all be dancing to the sound of discordant harmonies and beatless music in fifty years? Am I just reactionary?
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Allie is annoyed
So I just got home and:
- My flatmate is having a loud "concert" at the flat to replace some concert she couldn't go to. It involves playing Switchfoot music REALLY REALLY loud. I'm tired. I want to go to bed.
Update: I am now sitting IN THE DRIVEWAY with my laptop because I do not want to listen to ANY more Switchfoot, ever again, never, ever, ever, and because I am a wimp who doesn't like asking my flatmate to turn down the music.
- I turned on my computer and opened up a Word document and it turns out someone who was just using my computer to read something before has changed my set-up! That has got to be the most annoying thing! Like changing the direction in which someone else's toilet paper rolls off the holder. Surely you would think that if someone has left something a certain way, that is how that someone wants it to be? There is no longer the toolbar at the top of the document which I can click on to get the formatting palette and the zoom option and so on. And I can't figure out how to get it back because Macbooks actually aren't all that intuitive (though they are pretty). Can anyone who has a Mac tell me how to get my toolbar back?
Sorry about the sheer boringness and self-centeredness of this blog post. Enough about me, let's talk about YOU. What annoys YOU the most?
- My flatmate is having a loud "concert" at the flat to replace some concert she couldn't go to. It involves playing Switchfoot music REALLY REALLY loud. I'm tired. I want to go to bed.
Update: I am now sitting IN THE DRIVEWAY with my laptop because I do not want to listen to ANY more Switchfoot, ever again, never, ever, ever, and because I am a wimp who doesn't like asking my flatmate to turn down the music.
- I turned on my computer and opened up a Word document and it turns out someone who was just using my computer to read something before has changed my set-up! That has got to be the most annoying thing! Like changing the direction in which someone else's toilet paper rolls off the holder. Surely you would think that if someone has left something a certain way, that is how that someone wants it to be? There is no longer the toolbar at the top of the document which I can click on to get the formatting palette and the zoom option and so on. And I can't figure out how to get it back because Macbooks actually aren't all that intuitive (though they are pretty). Can anyone who has a Mac tell me how to get my toolbar back?
Sorry about the sheer boringness and self-centeredness of this blog post. Enough about me, let's talk about YOU. What annoys YOU the most?
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
in which I have a strong opinion
I have always felt out of my comfort zone in sports. That's not to say I never enjoy playing a sport. Sport is fun to play, if you're good at it and have some measure of coordination, and it is good for us in a physical and mental sense, et cetera, et cetera. But I don't think I am the only one who suffered through the P.E. part of the education system, detesting being forced to put on unattractive clothes several times a week and humiliate oneself in front of one's classmates. And I hate the way the teaching of sports goes out of its way to embarrass kids; for example, the "pick your team" method that every non-athletic child has been humiliated by, and the intense shame of being picked last.
So much for my childhood and teenage years, which were permeated with a vague distrust of sports. The last few years I've thought about it more. The last few years I've become even more disgusted with the ideology behind sports, as undeniably great events like the Olympics have sold out, and athletes think competing in what is, essentially, a game is more important than human rights. [I'm thinking of Beijing here, and thinking back to Berlin 1936, or the Springboks' tours of New Zealand during apartheid.] I've also become disgusted with the culture of sport in New Zealand that thinks it's okay to spend twenty-five minutes of the news hour on sports news, and also thinks it's okay to spend roughly twenty of those twenty-five minutes on men's sports. I'm disgusted by the amount of money that is spent on sportspeople and sports equipment, by individuals, businesses and by government.
SPORTS IS ULTIMATELY POINTLESS. On a personal level, exercise is important, and playing a game makes people happy - of course. But there is absolutely no point to it; nothing about it actually serves other people in any way. I heard someone who coaches athletics say to another person the other day, "The problem with these kids is that none of them are passionate about throwing." Yes, well, why would they be? "Throwing" is NOT IMPORTANT. There is no conceivable purpose to it. Sport only gives other people pleasure if they have been brainwashed into thinking that there is something about watching other people run around a field that is intrinsically exciting. They encourage national and local chauvinism and idolisation of brute strength.
I'm not saying sports events should cease. Events like the Olympics are great examples of international cooperation. But it is so easy for their organisers to assume that they CAN somehow be apolitical, as if they get a free pass from having a global conscience, and the amount of money spent on them is a travesty. And I am skeptical that the people who win medals win them by talent and determination alone.
Would it be so very bad if sports stopped being professional, and sportspeople were forced to see themselves as ordinary people with a particular interest that is not more noble and not more worthy of support than others?
So much for my childhood and teenage years, which were permeated with a vague distrust of sports. The last few years I've thought about it more. The last few years I've become even more disgusted with the ideology behind sports, as undeniably great events like the Olympics have sold out, and athletes think competing in what is, essentially, a game is more important than human rights. [I'm thinking of Beijing here, and thinking back to Berlin 1936, or the Springboks' tours of New Zealand during apartheid.] I've also become disgusted with the culture of sport in New Zealand that thinks it's okay to spend twenty-five minutes of the news hour on sports news, and also thinks it's okay to spend roughly twenty of those twenty-five minutes on men's sports. I'm disgusted by the amount of money that is spent on sportspeople and sports equipment, by individuals, businesses and by government.
SPORTS IS ULTIMATELY POINTLESS. On a personal level, exercise is important, and playing a game makes people happy - of course. But there is absolutely no point to it; nothing about it actually serves other people in any way. I heard someone who coaches athletics say to another person the other day, "The problem with these kids is that none of them are passionate about throwing." Yes, well, why would they be? "Throwing" is NOT IMPORTANT. There is no conceivable purpose to it. Sport only gives other people pleasure if they have been brainwashed into thinking that there is something about watching other people run around a field that is intrinsically exciting. They encourage national and local chauvinism and idolisation of brute strength.
I'm not saying sports events should cease. Events like the Olympics are great examples of international cooperation. But it is so easy for their organisers to assume that they CAN somehow be apolitical, as if they get a free pass from having a global conscience, and the amount of money spent on them is a travesty. And I am skeptical that the people who win medals win them by talent and determination alone.
Would it be so very bad if sports stopped being professional, and sportspeople were forced to see themselves as ordinary people with a particular interest that is not more noble and not more worthy of support than others?
Thursday, December 10, 2009
apologies
I think I need a holiday.
I'm:
- stressed because we have to move house soon;
- anxious about the situation in our flat (we need someone to move into our new flat with us from 19 December and start paying rent; this Someone is still making up her mind and we don't know if we'll find anyone else in time if she says no);
- coming down with bugs/headaches every week;
- generally short on money;
- unable to summon up much motivation or enthusiasm to work hard on my thesis;
- supposed to finish its first chapter in less than two weeks (I've written one page);
- feeling completely unable to write anything creative and worried I'm not going to be able to keep up with HDtS;
- unable to take a holiday because I've taken too many already and I'll need time later when my family shows up for Christmas/New Year's;
- stressed out by a private situation which has been developing, and that's really all I can say;
Et cetera.
So this is my explanation for being the proprietor of a Very Boring Blog over the last little while. And this post doesn't make anything better. I'm sorry. I just don't feel like I can think about anything right now.
On the bright side, I have discovered Gilmore Girls for the first time in my life. My flatmate bought the complete seven seasons on DVD a while ago and we have been slowly making our way through them (we've almost finished the third season). I LOVE THEM. They make me happy. I can't explain the relief of getting home from a unproductive, depressing day and watching a couple of hours of pure pleasure. I think my flatmate must be extremely tired of me spouting my feelings; "Oh I love him so much!" whenever Kirk pops up.
But then I feel bad because I spent two hours on pure pleasure and should have spent it taking notes from long boring books or squeezing historical insight from my tired mind.
I'm:
- stressed because we have to move house soon;
- anxious about the situation in our flat (we need someone to move into our new flat with us from 19 December and start paying rent; this Someone is still making up her mind and we don't know if we'll find anyone else in time if she says no);
- coming down with bugs/headaches every week;
- generally short on money;
- unable to summon up much motivation or enthusiasm to work hard on my thesis;
- supposed to finish its first chapter in less than two weeks (I've written one page);
- feeling completely unable to write anything creative and worried I'm not going to be able to keep up with HDtS;
- unable to take a holiday because I've taken too many already and I'll need time later when my family shows up for Christmas/New Year's;
- stressed out by a private situation which has been developing, and that's really all I can say;
Et cetera.
So this is my explanation for being the proprietor of a Very Boring Blog over the last little while. And this post doesn't make anything better. I'm sorry. I just don't feel like I can think about anything right now.
On the bright side, I have discovered Gilmore Girls for the first time in my life. My flatmate bought the complete seven seasons on DVD a while ago and we have been slowly making our way through them (we've almost finished the third season). I LOVE THEM. They make me happy. I can't explain the relief of getting home from a unproductive, depressing day and watching a couple of hours of pure pleasure. I think my flatmate must be extremely tired of me spouting my feelings; "Oh I love him so much!" whenever Kirk pops up.
But then I feel bad because I spent two hours on pure pleasure and should have spent it taking notes from long boring books or squeezing historical insight from my tired mind.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
are you kidding me?
I was woken at an unknown hour last night by the telephone. I have the privilege of one of the larger, more sunny bedrooms in the flat but the disadvantage of being the only one likely to hear the telephone at night. After a moment of lying in bed going "nnnnnnn" I decided it could be an emergency and jumped up to get it.
"Hello?" I grunted.
"Hi, is Wendy there?" [Not her real name. A guest who is currently sleeping in the sleep-out - a room attached to the garage rather than the house.]
"Yes... but I'm not going to take the phone to her at this time of night."
"Oh, okay. I'll ring her back some other time."
HANG UP. Turn on my cell phone to check the time; it's 2:50am.
Seriously??? You had to wake me up at that hour of the morning on the assumption that I would stagger out of bed, put on shoes and warm clothes, and carry the phone to your girlfriend (as I think it was her boyfriend calling) whose bedroom is not inside, and who is probably asleep? All for a non-emergency?
Possible reasons: a) sheer stupidity; b) forgetfulness; c) the assumption that as we are all students, we party the nights away in blissful freedom from the necessity of sleep; d) cruelty?
Grrr! GRRRRRRRR!!
"Hello?" I grunted.
"Hi, is Wendy there?" [Not her real name. A guest who is currently sleeping in the sleep-out - a room attached to the garage rather than the house.]
"Yes... but I'm not going to take the phone to her at this time of night."
"Oh, okay. I'll ring her back some other time."
HANG UP. Turn on my cell phone to check the time; it's 2:50am.
Seriously??? You had to wake me up at that hour of the morning on the assumption that I would stagger out of bed, put on shoes and warm clothes, and carry the phone to your girlfriend (as I think it was her boyfriend calling) whose bedroom is not inside, and who is probably asleep? All for a non-emergency?
Possible reasons: a) sheer stupidity; b) forgetfulness; c) the assumption that as we are all students, we party the nights away in blissful freedom from the necessity of sleep; d) cruelty?
Grrr! GRRRRRRRR!!
Saturday, May 23, 2009
mall etiquette
It has been really miserable weather here in Christchurch for the last, oh, two weeks [substitute "what feels like eternity"], except for a few days of spring-like sunshine and warmth, which I think made it even worse - just as you begin to defrost a little and to think that maybe this will last, BOOM! back comes the rain, the sleet, the hail, the rain and more rain. We've even had snow but it didn't settle on the waterlogged ground.
Last year this was all kind of fun, because I was living at home with my dad, with (a) zero appreciation of power bills, (b) heated towel rails and such-like, (c) a new-ish house, (d) a clothes dryer, and (e) a car. This year, I have none of the above. My flatmates and I even have rules about not using heaters and so on. I have discovered that freezing cold living quarters are not all that bad if you dress up warm, but no matter how many items of clothing you are wearing, it is impossible to be comfortable if you have cold hands and feet. Fingerless gloves have made studying a whole lot easier, but my feet are ALWAYS COLD.
So, despite the horrific weather today, I went to the mall, for the purpose of investing in WARM SOCKS. My umbrella broke on the way, my jeans got soaked up to the shins, but I no longer have cold feet. I also have very cute feet because this time I didn't get boring black socks.
It turns out that half of Christchurch was at Riccarton Mall today - or so it seemed. And this brings me (in a very circuitous way) to the main point of this blog post:
MALL ETIQUETTE
1) Walking through the mall.
A brisk yet measured walk should be the order of the day. If you are stopping as you go to gaze at shop displays, keep to the left. However, if you are wandering aimlessly through the mall simply because it is heated and you had nothing else to do, it is polite to either keep out of other people's way, or to walk at a more bearable pace for the people behind you. Exceptions will be made for the elderly or those with impediments such as crutches, which brings us to another rule of etiquette: be patient in cases where a slow walk really cannot be helped.
If you are one of a gaggle of teenage girls, try to remember not to walk five- or six-abreast. You are giving your age group a bad reputation.
If you are a teenage boy, repeat this mantra: "Be civilised. Be civilised." Do NOT start beating up another random kid with your friends (as I was unlucky enough to witness). It's not impressive, and the mall, which is not the bad part of town on a Saturday night, is not the ideal location for you to go all Stone Age.
2) The clothes stores.
When I was wandering round the women's clothes department at Farmers today, I became what is termed "boxed in" in dancing and shopping terminology. This simple diagram may explain my predicament.
X O X
O ALLIE O
X O X
[Where X = shopper and O = clothing stand.]
If you are shopping - please! Look out for potential "Allie"s. Don't fence them in. Remember, to them, you are just another shopper, and if you don't listen to "excuse me"s and continue to get in their way, they may take out their frustration on you. Instead, pull aside - perhaps with an apologetic smile - and let them out.
3) The changing rooms.
When it's a busy day, and there is a line of shoppers waiting at the changing rooms entrance, do not - I repeat - do NOT walk in, blithely ignoring the "Limit 4 garments" sign, and proceed to sit your boyfriend/girlfriends outside your door, subjecting each of the 12 items you are trying on to a detailed analysis in front of the mirror at the end of the hall. When you are finished with your garments, hang them on the rack that has been left there for that purpose - do NOT leave them lying all over the changing room so that the next customer has to either hang them up or walk all over them.
So! Hopefully that has all been cleared up, and now we can all actually enjoy the mall.
Monday, March 30, 2009
warning - may contain long-winded whinging
Those of you who are friends with me on facebook will probably have thought that my status updates for the last little while are really quite whingey, and if you're not from New Zealand, you probably won't have a clue what I'm complaining about. "Allie wonders if Studylink was set up simply to distract students from their study." "Allie should be awarded a diploma in negotiating with government and university departments over a long period of time and managing to stay calm." I've joined a facebook group that is called: "Dealing with Studylink is more challenging than my degree."
Those who have to live with me have also noticed a peculiar level of aggression in their flatmate. I emerge from my room at odd times, knock on their door, and proceed to tell them everything that has managed to go wrong with my enrolment, and now with my Studylink applications. I make phone calls to Studylink, and after hanging up, start screaming or grinding my teeth in a menacing fashion.
For those lucky readers of this blog who don't have to deal with New Zealand universities or government departments, Studylink is the department of the government that deals with student loans and student allowances. Yes, I get free money from the government for part of my living costs, because my parent earns under a certain threshold. Technically, I should be very thankful to Studylink for providing me with funds, and I am...
And yet, in reality, my student allowance is my legal entitlement. And Studylink have managed to muck up my application in just about every possible way this year.
First of all, my enrolment with the university took a ridiculously long time (not Studylink's fault). The entire History department had to approve my proposal before I could even get enrolled, and once that was approved, my enrolment was lost somewhere in the computer system of the College of Arts. After four or so weeks of waiting (living off my savings and borrowing from my father), the enrolment finally went through. Hooray! Now I can start eating again!
Or so I thought.
First, Studylink claimed that I still wasn't enrolled. Back and forth, back and forth, between the university and Studylink - finally, they admit I am a student.
Second, Studylink claimed that I wasn't a full-time student, and therefore am not entitled to my allowance. [If doing a Masters degree PLUS an undergraduate course in Russian doesn't make you full-time, I don't know what does.] After several phone calls, they told me just to wait, and it would get sorted out in the next few days.
Next, after several more phone calls, they told me I had to make two separate applications for the one student allowance - one application for my Russian course, and one application for my MA. In my second application, I have to send in all the same information again - my father's income, proof of money I'll be receiving - even though I've sent in the exact same information for my other application.
So it looks like I won't be receiving student allowance this week. Seven weeks into the semester, and Studylink + the university have managed to muck up almost every aspect of my enrolment. I am hundreds of dollars in debt because I haven't had the means to pay for my rent/food, and I am stressed and ready to rip my hair out when I should be studying.
When I am a dictator, I am going to reform bureaucracy or just get rid of it altogether. That alone will give me total power because everyone will love me for it.
Sorry about the long whinge. I really needed to get that off my chest.
Those who have to live with me have also noticed a peculiar level of aggression in their flatmate. I emerge from my room at odd times, knock on their door, and proceed to tell them everything that has managed to go wrong with my enrolment, and now with my Studylink applications. I make phone calls to Studylink, and after hanging up, start screaming or grinding my teeth in a menacing fashion.
For those lucky readers of this blog who don't have to deal with New Zealand universities or government departments, Studylink is the department of the government that deals with student loans and student allowances. Yes, I get free money from the government for part of my living costs, because my parent earns under a certain threshold. Technically, I should be very thankful to Studylink for providing me with funds, and I am...
And yet, in reality, my student allowance is my legal entitlement. And Studylink have managed to muck up my application in just about every possible way this year.
First of all, my enrolment with the university took a ridiculously long time (not Studylink's fault). The entire History department had to approve my proposal before I could even get enrolled, and once that was approved, my enrolment was lost somewhere in the computer system of the College of Arts. After four or so weeks of waiting (living off my savings and borrowing from my father), the enrolment finally went through. Hooray! Now I can start eating again!
Or so I thought.
First, Studylink claimed that I still wasn't enrolled. Back and forth, back and forth, between the university and Studylink - finally, they admit I am a student.
Second, Studylink claimed that I wasn't a full-time student, and therefore am not entitled to my allowance. [If doing a Masters degree PLUS an undergraduate course in Russian doesn't make you full-time, I don't know what does.] After several phone calls, they told me just to wait, and it would get sorted out in the next few days.
Next, after several more phone calls, they told me I had to make two separate applications for the one student allowance - one application for my Russian course, and one application for my MA. In my second application, I have to send in all the same information again - my father's income, proof of money I'll be receiving - even though I've sent in the exact same information for my other application.
So it looks like I won't be receiving student allowance this week. Seven weeks into the semester, and Studylink + the university have managed to muck up almost every aspect of my enrolment. I am hundreds of dollars in debt because I haven't had the means to pay for my rent/food, and I am stressed and ready to rip my hair out when I should be studying.
When I am a dictator, I am going to reform bureaucracy or just get rid of it altogether. That alone will give me total power because everyone will love me for it.
Sorry about the long whinge. I really needed to get that off my chest.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
SOS
Please, blogosphere, send me some love. I am feeling really, really dumb, and I have an impending sense of doom about the year ahead of me.
I have just sent my sister this text message: "Masters is HORRIBLE. I don't know how you got through a PhD. I just feel so stupid!"
She replied: "You've made it. That's the whole objective."
Why, why, didn't I become a florist? It was a perfectly reasonable fantasy. No, I had to do the "sensible" thing and come to university.
Meanwhile, I am drowning my sorrows in:
while cooking - rhubarb pie, my favourite.
I have just sent my sister this text message: "Masters is HORRIBLE. I don't know how you got through a PhD. I just feel so stupid!"
She replied: "You've made it. That's the whole objective."
Why, why, didn't I become a florist? It was a perfectly reasonable fantasy. No, I had to do the "sensible" thing and come to university.
Meanwhile, I am drowning my sorrows in:
wine and Whittaker's hazelnut chocolate;
while cooking - rhubarb pie, my favourite.It wasn't supposed to get burnt but it still tasted goooood, and made me feel slightly better.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
why oh why?
I have just decided to do a Masters degree. Eek!
It was always on the cards, but I didn't really make up my mind until this last week, and I was pretty blasé about it, considering it the safe option that logically followed my Honours year and wouldn't require much more pressure.
Have suddenly realised I am incredibly unintelligent when it comes to predicting my future. I am freaking out. When it comes down to it and I actually have to put some work into finding a topic, I realise that suddenly I am studying at an academic level at which originality is crucial, and all the topics I had in mind have been done already. I realise that I am plunging into a world where I will not be having weekly meetings with my supervisor, like last year, nor his constant guidance; where the entire Department of History staff are going to hear my proposal and grill me on it, in a few short weeks from now; where famous historians are going to read the end product (if, indeed, I finish) and tell me what's wrong with it. *long, drawn-out scream*
Why am I doing this to myself? What possesses people to take on postgraduate study? I have a horrible fear that suddenly everyone will realise that everything I've done so far that has turned out to be halfway good has been a complete fluke.
It was always on the cards, but I didn't really make up my mind until this last week, and I was pretty blasé about it, considering it the safe option that logically followed my Honours year and wouldn't require much more pressure.
Have suddenly realised I am incredibly unintelligent when it comes to predicting my future. I am freaking out. When it comes down to it and I actually have to put some work into finding a topic, I realise that suddenly I am studying at an academic level at which originality is crucial, and all the topics I had in mind have been done already. I realise that I am plunging into a world where I will not be having weekly meetings with my supervisor, like last year, nor his constant guidance; where the entire Department of History staff are going to hear my proposal and grill me on it, in a few short weeks from now; where famous historians are going to read the end product (if, indeed, I finish) and tell me what's wrong with it. *long, drawn-out scream*
Why am I doing this to myself? What possesses people to take on postgraduate study? I have a horrible fear that suddenly everyone will realise that everything I've done so far that has turned out to be halfway good has been a complete fluke.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Hell Pizza
There's this pizza chain in New Zealand called Hell. The whole idea is to be provocative and shocking, thereby attracting their chosen demographic - cool people who like to push boundaries. Marketing campaigns have included dropping flyers in letterboxes with condoms attached, and billboards like the one below:
Obviously, it creates a fuss, and gives them a whole lotta free publicity.
Me - I'm not a fan. Not so much because of my religious beliefs or anything, although if it were only that Hell marketing campaigns would still probably bug me, but I find it so ironic that we are being urged to be rebellious and cool by giving them money.
I have had Hell pizza once at a friend's house, and it was yummy, but I refuse to spend money on them. Give me open capitalism any day. If I'm going to enrich some fat cat capitalist I'd like them to be quite open about it, thank you very much, and not act as if they're doing me a favour. But at the end of the day I don't really give a toss about Hell pizzas and I certainly wouldn't bother spending time arguing that they're wicked or something...
Until today. I saw this billboard in the newspaper:
Seriously?! They are seriously trying to sell pizza by using Adolf Hitler as a marketing ploy? Give me a break. Some things just should not be used for motives of profit.
Hell Pizza are not evil. They're simply idiots.
Obviously, it creates a fuss, and gives them a whole lotta free publicity.Me - I'm not a fan. Not so much because of my religious beliefs or anything, although if it were only that Hell marketing campaigns would still probably bug me, but I find it so ironic that we are being urged to be rebellious and cool by giving them money.
I have had Hell pizza once at a friend's house, and it was yummy, but I refuse to spend money on them. Give me open capitalism any day. If I'm going to enrich some fat cat capitalist I'd like them to be quite open about it, thank you very much, and not act as if they're doing me a favour. But at the end of the day I don't really give a toss about Hell pizzas and I certainly wouldn't bother spending time arguing that they're wicked or something...
Until today. I saw this billboard in the newspaper:
Seriously?! They are seriously trying to sell pizza by using Adolf Hitler as a marketing ploy? Give me a break. Some things just should not be used for motives of profit.Hell Pizza are not evil. They're simply idiots.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
politics schmolitics
John McCain? Barack Obama? Meh.
Helen Clark, on the other hand. John Key. New Zealand is gearing up for an almost certainly heated election on November 8.
Helen has been our Prime Minister for nine years now. Head of the Labour Government, she stands for slightly left of centre values. I like her. She is one of the few politicians out there who, I am sure, does not have dirty baggage. She actually looks like she's telling the truth. She promises money for students. Her Deputy used to be a historian. However... I'm not so sure I like a few of her policies. And I'm not sure Labour always lives up to the centre left thing. And she's almost certain to go into coalition with a smug greasy old politician called Winston Peters of whom I'd really like to see the last.
John Key is the newbie, the Head of the Opposition, the leader of National. An ex-businessman who made himself a cool multimillion dollars before giving it up for politics. He promises tax cuts for high income earners (something that always makes alarm bells ring in my head and I'm not sure why), he wants to privatise the health system, and I don't trust him. His name rhymes with Donkey. However... is he any worse than Labour? And, maybe, given the recession and all, having someone in power who knows a thing or two about finance wouldn't be so bad a thing. And, if National becomes the leading party, one of my friends has a pretty good chance of getting a job as a policy analyst with one of their leading MPs.
I don't know. Last election, I ended up making my decision based on the rude reception of Helen Clark by the Young Nationals at my university. As soon as she arrived, they started shouting her down. Result: no one who had come to actually HEAR what she had to say had any luck, and Helen had to leave.
And on Saturday night, friends of mine started talking about politics. It's not quite as extreme here as it is in the States with people telling you "if you are Christian you will vote X" but all the same, they tried it out on me. There is nothing that annoys me more. A few years ago, Labour passed into law a civil union bill and a prostitution reform bill, and suddenly a lot of Christians decided Labour was evil. Now these National supporters have the effrontery to tell me that I'm a single-issue voter, because Labour supports students, and that I don't take a moral stance, and that I should vote National. a) Their objections to Labour are based on, er, SINGLE issues, and b) I take a very moral stance. No way am I eager to vote for people that want to give rich people more money and take easy access healthcare from the poor. I don't see how that is any less Christian than their own stance.
If that paragraph didn't make any sense, ignore it.
Anyway, the point being: it seems like every time I vote, I really make an effort to make a cool, calculated, sensible decision. However, I end up deciding who to vote for based on what I don't like about the supporters of other parties. Is this just me?
By the way: thanks very much for the messages of support and the prayers for my nephew. He is doing well and has just gone home from hospital. More details on my other blog if you're interested.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
yes, I am that person
So, in New Zealand most urban roads have a speed limit of 50 or 60 kilometres an hour. However, it's generally accepted by most drivers and also the police that you won't be stopped or fined for going up to about 58 km/hour in a 50km zone. Which means that if you go at 50km exactly, now, you're seen as holding people up, even though you are following the law to the letter.
I usually drive between 55-58 km/hour although my foot has been known to "slip" sometimes. I try to keep within the limits because I hate being fined and anyway, there are speed limits in certain areas for good reasons. But I usually wouldn't drive at 50 or below because I know how much it annoys people.
However...
When you come up behind me, desperate to keep driving at 70 km/hour in a 50 km zone, inches away from my car and I am already driving 8 km over the speed limit, I will slow down. That's a promise. Nothing makes me happier than slowing down to 50 km when an impatient dangerous Neanderthal goon is shadowing me. I especially love it when you eventually pull over beside me at an intersection, or you pass me, infuriated, and I look sideways with a smug grin, just to rile you.
Seriously! I noticed no heavily pregnant wife in the back seat. If you're late to something, that's your fault and it doesn't mean I have to speed up and risk getting fined or, worse, hitting someone or something because I was going too fast to stop in time. Think about it - do you really want to annoy me in future?
I usually drive between 55-58 km/hour although my foot has been known to "slip" sometimes. I try to keep within the limits because I hate being fined and anyway, there are speed limits in certain areas for good reasons. But I usually wouldn't drive at 50 or below because I know how much it annoys people.
However...
When you come up behind me, desperate to keep driving at 70 km/hour in a 50 km zone, inches away from my car and I am already driving 8 km over the speed limit, I will slow down. That's a promise. Nothing makes me happier than slowing down to 50 km when an impatient dangerous Neanderthal goon is shadowing me. I especially love it when you eventually pull over beside me at an intersection, or you pass me, infuriated, and I look sideways with a smug grin, just to rile you.
Seriously! I noticed no heavily pregnant wife in the back seat. If you're late to something, that's your fault and it doesn't mean I have to speed up and risk getting fined or, worse, hitting someone or something because I was going too fast to stop in time. Think about it - do you really want to annoy me in future?
Saturday, April 05, 2008
China, China, China
Why don't people learn from history? Currently I'm reading all these bizarre and saddening stories about Westerners who would make up any excuse for the atrocities in Stalin's Russia, and then I turn on the news to see New Zealand politicians overjoyed at the free trade agreement they've scored with China, and very very quiet whenever someone mentions human rights. Probably two minutes before there would have been a news item on what scurrilous little Fiji has done now, and how noble our politicians have been in standing up against it.
It's not that I think our politicians shouldn't make a stand against loss of crucial rights in Fiji such as freedom of press. But I would like to point out, if I may, that Fiji is not in possession of a massive economy and therefore there's no reason for us to play dumb. Neither is Fiji shooting people in the back of the head every day and charging their families for the bullets.
Then the sports news comes on, and here's some more New Zealand athletes happily signing gag agreements, and explaining that politics has nothing to do with sports and that their job is to go and compete, and to hell with human rights. (I paraphrased a little there.) Thank goodness that some athletes, such as Mark Todd, have made it clear from the outset that they have absolutely no intention of keeping their mouth shut just to keep Beijing happy.
Maybe later that evening there will be a documentary on the Berlin Olympics in 1936 (any guesses on the amount of politics that will be featured in that story of sports?), or perhaps on the South African Springboks rugby tour of New Zealand in 1981. The noble few who protested against anything less than condemnation of apartheid. The exclusion of Maori players from the All Blacks team so as not to offend the sensitive white Springbok sportsmen. The evil sports bosses who claimed politics doesn't come into it. Bishop Desmond Tutu on how much the protests meant to them. Maybe a few sportsmen will be interviewed who will concede that at the time perhaps they hated the protesters, but now they have seen the light.
Please, sportspeople, politicians, pick up a history book. Every once in a while. And consider the probability that one day you will be featured in one. Do you really want to be the people we look back on, disgusted and amazed at how anyone could be so (a) stupid or (b) callous and indifferent to human suffering?
So. This year I am boycotting the Beijing Olympics. Unfortunately my decision won't have much of an effect. Unfortunately most of those few people whose decisions would make a difference will be zipping their lips tight shut, because it's not their job.
It's not that I think our politicians shouldn't make a stand against loss of crucial rights in Fiji such as freedom of press. But I would like to point out, if I may, that Fiji is not in possession of a massive economy and therefore there's no reason for us to play dumb. Neither is Fiji shooting people in the back of the head every day and charging their families for the bullets.
Then the sports news comes on, and here's some more New Zealand athletes happily signing gag agreements, and explaining that politics has nothing to do with sports and that their job is to go and compete, and to hell with human rights. (I paraphrased a little there.) Thank goodness that some athletes, such as Mark Todd, have made it clear from the outset that they have absolutely no intention of keeping their mouth shut just to keep Beijing happy.
Maybe later that evening there will be a documentary on the Berlin Olympics in 1936 (any guesses on the amount of politics that will be featured in that story of sports?), or perhaps on the South African Springboks rugby tour of New Zealand in 1981. The noble few who protested against anything less than condemnation of apartheid. The exclusion of Maori players from the All Blacks team so as not to offend the sensitive white Springbok sportsmen. The evil sports bosses who claimed politics doesn't come into it. Bishop Desmond Tutu on how much the protests meant to them. Maybe a few sportsmen will be interviewed who will concede that at the time perhaps they hated the protesters, but now they have seen the light.
Please, sportspeople, politicians, pick up a history book. Every once in a while. And consider the probability that one day you will be featured in one. Do you really want to be the people we look back on, disgusted and amazed at how anyone could be so (a) stupid or (b) callous and indifferent to human suffering?
So. This year I am boycotting the Beijing Olympics. Unfortunately my decision won't have much of an effect. Unfortunately most of those few people whose decisions would make a difference will be zipping their lips tight shut, because it's not their job.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
"sensible" spelling
Enough is enough. I have read one too many silly letters to our local newspaper about how the world would be a better place if English was spelt "sensibly". Here is my rant, err, response - Why English Is Just Fine How It Is.
1) Having a worldwide standard written English is a BIG bonus, especially as English becomes more and more global. It is worth preserving. Second language learners, although they may not believe it, are benefited by this, not crippled by the idiosyncrasies of the language.
2) There is no such thing as a standard spoken English. There never has been and there never will be. We all speak dialects - even the Queen. :) So - if everyone decided English is silly the way it is and decided to create a new universal spelling, it's more than likely that spelling changes would be dominated by American or British dialects. So where does that leave me? I don't speak English the same way people in the States speak it. People from the south of England itself speak a totally different dialect to people from the north. In the end I'd still be spelling English in a way that is a little or a lot different to how I speak it - not so "sensible" an option, really, is it? The only other option is that every dialect group has their own standard English - and that is totally impractical in the global village. It's already annoying enough having the few spelling differences between American English and everyone else's.
3) Sensible spelling advocates trot out phonetic pronunciation as the ideal thing. What they don't realise is that their concept of spelling is so ingrained that even when they pretend to spell "sensibly" they hold onto non-phonetic techniques of spelling. For example - unless you're from Scotland or somewhere similar, you don't actually pronounce the "r" in hurt. But "sensible spellers" leave it in because they don't know how to write that sound phonetically; it would look strange to them if they tried.
4) English has a huge amount of vowel sounds compared to other languages. When doing Linguistics I was taught about fifteen basic vowel sounds that appear in English. But there are only five vowel letters, or symbols, in written English - so how can we simplify English spelling but still maintain these differences? As in the last point, the presence of the silent "r" in some words is really important, or we would read hurt as hut, or burn as bun. Even silent "e"s are important, or how else could we tell the difference between, for example, bate and bat? They seem to be a pet peeve of sensible spellers but actually perform an important function.
5) People who write in "sensible" spelling as an example of the better way to do it, like I saw in today's newspaper, think they've done it in the most obvious and reasonable way. In fact their writing is littered with inconsistencies in spelling. Every single person says things in a slightly different way, however tiny the difference, and it would be incredibly annoying to have to decipher everything you read according to someone else's dialectal oddities.
6) Every seemingly random thing about English spelling actually came about for a very good reason. For example: words like money and love are spelt with 'o' instead of 'u' because it was seen in the early modern period that with cursive writing, letters like m u n are difficult to read in a row. The English language has a fascinating and rich history; why should we drop that? I don't want a plastic committee-created language that has a "sensible" reason for everything. Besides, with so many borrowed words, it is incredibly useful when learning other languages like French or German to be able to easily recognise brother-words, or guess at their spelling.
7) It is actually a very practical and important thing in the modern world to have to spell things correctly and in one particular way. If you spell someone's email address wrong, or type in a URL incorrectly - you're not going to get to the right destination.
8) Finally - it just looks MESSY and is LAZY. I make spelling mistakes now and then and I'm certainly not going to scoff at genuine mistakes or typos, especially in a non-professional environment. Neither do I mind if English undergoes natural change; that's the mark of a healthy and living language. But! Laziness is not an adequate reason to change the entire language just to suit you. Because if you got exactly what you wanted, you can depend upon it that it wouldn't suit anyone else.
Okay. I've worn myself out. Sorry about all the quotation marks around the word "sensible". I'll be impressed if you've read all this. For a reward, I direct you to a slightly more funny response to the sensible spelling debate, which is here.
1) Having a worldwide standard written English is a BIG bonus, especially as English becomes more and more global. It is worth preserving. Second language learners, although they may not believe it, are benefited by this, not crippled by the idiosyncrasies of the language.
2) There is no such thing as a standard spoken English. There never has been and there never will be. We all speak dialects - even the Queen. :) So - if everyone decided English is silly the way it is and decided to create a new universal spelling, it's more than likely that spelling changes would be dominated by American or British dialects. So where does that leave me? I don't speak English the same way people in the States speak it. People from the south of England itself speak a totally different dialect to people from the north. In the end I'd still be spelling English in a way that is a little or a lot different to how I speak it - not so "sensible" an option, really, is it? The only other option is that every dialect group has their own standard English - and that is totally impractical in the global village. It's already annoying enough having the few spelling differences between American English and everyone else's.
3) Sensible spelling advocates trot out phonetic pronunciation as the ideal thing. What they don't realise is that their concept of spelling is so ingrained that even when they pretend to spell "sensibly" they hold onto non-phonetic techniques of spelling. For example - unless you're from Scotland or somewhere similar, you don't actually pronounce the "r" in hurt. But "sensible spellers" leave it in because they don't know how to write that sound phonetically; it would look strange to them if they tried.
4) English has a huge amount of vowel sounds compared to other languages. When doing Linguistics I was taught about fifteen basic vowel sounds that appear in English. But there are only five vowel letters, or symbols, in written English - so how can we simplify English spelling but still maintain these differences? As in the last point, the presence of the silent "r" in some words is really important, or we would read hurt as hut, or burn as bun. Even silent "e"s are important, or how else could we tell the difference between, for example, bate and bat? They seem to be a pet peeve of sensible spellers but actually perform an important function.
5) People who write in "sensible" spelling as an example of the better way to do it, like I saw in today's newspaper, think they've done it in the most obvious and reasonable way. In fact their writing is littered with inconsistencies in spelling. Every single person says things in a slightly different way, however tiny the difference, and it would be incredibly annoying to have to decipher everything you read according to someone else's dialectal oddities.
6) Every seemingly random thing about English spelling actually came about for a very good reason. For example: words like money and love are spelt with 'o' instead of 'u' because it was seen in the early modern period that with cursive writing, letters like m u n are difficult to read in a row. The English language has a fascinating and rich history; why should we drop that? I don't want a plastic committee-created language that has a "sensible" reason for everything. Besides, with so many borrowed words, it is incredibly useful when learning other languages like French or German to be able to easily recognise brother-words, or guess at their spelling.
7) It is actually a very practical and important thing in the modern world to have to spell things correctly and in one particular way. If you spell someone's email address wrong, or type in a URL incorrectly - you're not going to get to the right destination.
8) Finally - it just looks MESSY and is LAZY. I make spelling mistakes now and then and I'm certainly not going to scoff at genuine mistakes or typos, especially in a non-professional environment. Neither do I mind if English undergoes natural change; that's the mark of a healthy and living language. But! Laziness is not an adequate reason to change the entire language just to suit you. Because if you got exactly what you wanted, you can depend upon it that it wouldn't suit anyone else.
Okay. I've worn myself out. Sorry about all the quotation marks around the word "sensible". I'll be impressed if you've read all this. For a reward, I direct you to a slightly more funny response to the sensible spelling debate, which is here.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
bloody hippies
Okay - I was on the train yesterday coming home from town after a successful shopping trip (yay! I found a super cheap CD shop and went a little overboard), and this guy gets on, looking like he's trying to be an Australian Rastafarian/hermit/swagman/hippie/free spirit, with his bike and a guitar. He leans his bike up against the wall, and starts strumming away loudly. Now I'm listening (very happily) to my ipod, and I happen to really, really enjoy catching the train because it gives me half an hour or more to listen to my favourite music and generally zone myself out, so this really pisses me off. Then he comes and sits down across from me and looks at me like I'm a closet imperialist/yuppie/sweatshop manager, sitting there with my ipod, sunnies and leather handbag, and plays louder, as if it's necessary to make me listen to him and in so doing enlarge my tiny imprisoned mind. At one point, to give him the benefit of the doubt, I turned off my ipod and listened, but his guitar sounded like it was about to snap in half and the strings like they were made of elastic bands. Back on goes the ipod.
The one moment of satisfaction I got from the whole share-your-free-spirit-with-the-whole-train thing was when, right at the start, he started playing and his bike fell over with a huge crash, so he had to go rearrange it. I must have a cruel sense of humour but it was the funniest thing that happened all day.
So who is more sadistic - he or me? And which is better - an unoriginal ipod-generation yuppie, or an annoying Rasta hippie who wants to share his freedom with a whole trainload of people?
When I am a tyrannical dictator, this is an issue I will have to address.
Edit: Oh, and by the way, you may remember my post on choosing a destination to visit in Western Australia, and the poll I asked you to vote on. Monkey Mia came first by one vote, then the backpacker bus trip, then third equal Ningaloo and Kalgoorlie. Well - thank you for your input. I have made my decision, and on Sunday I am going on holiday for a few days. I will tell you where and how and everything else when I get back. :)
The one moment of satisfaction I got from the whole share-your-free-spirit-with-the-whole-train thing was when, right at the start, he started playing and his bike fell over with a huge crash, so he had to go rearrange it. I must have a cruel sense of humour but it was the funniest thing that happened all day.
So who is more sadistic - he or me? And which is better - an unoriginal ipod-generation yuppie, or an annoying Rasta hippie who wants to share his freedom with a whole trainload of people?
When I am a tyrannical dictator, this is an issue I will have to address.
Edit: Oh, and by the way, you may remember my post on choosing a destination to visit in Western Australia, and the poll I asked you to vote on. Monkey Mia came first by one vote, then the backpacker bus trip, then third equal Ningaloo and Kalgoorlie. Well - thank you for your input. I have made my decision, and on Sunday I am going on holiday for a few days. I will tell you where and how and everything else when I get back. :)
Thursday, August 23, 2007
oh dear
Pauline Hanson, Australia's very own racist politician, is making a comeback at the moment, and is aiming to win seats in the Australian elections which are not very far away. I don't feel like I have a moral obligation to be unbiased here, because it's my blog, and I'm not voting as I'm not Australian, so I have no qualms in writing that Pauline Hanson is an aggressive, nasty, silly and unreasonable woman who may pretend she has more than one political issue on her agenda but actually only cares about immigration. For example, Muslim immigration should be radically reduced because "they urinate on Bibles". That's right. According to Pauline Hanson, all Muslims urinate on Bibles. (I feel like doing an 'Arec Baldwin' impression - "and - and global warming - and mega corporations - and..." Sorry to all those who haven't seen Team America: World Police and who won't have a clue what I'm talking about!)On the radio news the other day, Pauline Hanson claimed that the reason she didn't get as many seats as expected at the last elections her party was in (although, scarily, she got quite a number anyway) is that her voters didn't realise that as well as putting the "1" in the box by her party, they had to number every other party as well, depending on their preferences. If Pauline Hanson happens to read this blog, I would like to ask her this question: Pauline, do you actually want to admit to people how stupid your voters are?
Sorry for that little semi-political rant. It's so nice being able to be mean to politicians without feeling embarrassed that they're from your country.
Monday, May 21, 2007
why four wheel drives are an unintelligent choice of car
[Disclaimer: Obviously, this title does not apply to you if you are a reader of this blog but have a four wheel drive.]
Not long ago, I was driving to work when I stopped for a red light - as you do - and as most children know from about the age of six months. But perhaps the owner of the ugly brown four wheel drive behind me had not yet tumbled upon this basic fact of driving? He (and of course it was a he) drove into the back of me, giving me a huge bump, and scaring the &*%# out of me.
Rule number one with Allie (and, I might add, with the police): if you are going to crash into her car and scare the &*%# out of her, it is only polite to pull over and apologise, give her insurance/contact details, and generally be a decent human being.
But no. I pulled over when the lights turned green, and CZQ243 sped away, not even condescending to look in my direction. Bastard. It seemed then that he had only hit the towbar. Now it turns out there's a dent. But even if it had done nothing, does anyone else second me in adding this man to my mental list of jerks?
(By the way, if I could, I would have made his license number, and the word 'police' flash, like those annoying pop-ups that tell you that you are the millionth visitor to a site and have won a billion dollars. If anyone knows the HTML for that, please let me know.)
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
more meme
Three cheers for Sarakastic, who has created another DIY meme! This one has the added distinction of having, apparently, the most abrupt ending ever. It's also exciting because it's like a chain letter where a question gets added on every time. I don't know about everyone else, but I used to religiously post off chain letters to eight people every time I got one, and waited in vain for the replies/gifts they were meant to send back. Anyway! Here is Sara's meme, unedited and uncensored (I think things always sound more rebellious when you say that):
1. If you could travel back in time & kick anyone, who would it be & why?
President Woodrow Wilson. This may seem quite a random choice, but given my immersion over the last year or so in the history of the world wars, it's actually kind of relevant for me. If Wilson hadn't gone all hippy in 1918 with his Fourteen Points about how everyone should hold hands in peace and be compassionate and be fair to nationalities and not embittered, a whole lot of expectations would not have been raised (which, incidentally, he never meant or could have been able to fulfil), the Treaty of Versailles may not have been such a shock to Germany, and Hitler may not have come to power - although, of course, that's all speculation, hindsight is 20/20, etc etc. He also should have persuaded the US Senate to actually support the Treaty they had been a major part of making and weakening, as then it could actually have been workable. In my opinion. Can I kick them as well? [For more info on the basics see the Wikipedia page]
Of course, it may make more sense to travel back in time and kick Hitler. I just doubt that would make much difference to an egotistical evil sadistic maniac who would probably just have me shot/hung/tortured/gassed anyway. But it would have been immensely satisfying.
2. When people mistake your name for another name, what is it?
I'm Alison, usually Allie, in reality - but there's a woman at my church who persists in calling me Alice, even though I've told her a million times that it's not my name. One time I did get a popstar to sign my diary, and when he spelt my name, he wrote 'Illie'. Which is a bit weird.
3. If you could add any question to this Meme what would it be?
What would you never sue someone for? (Just because I can't think of anything poignant or amusing to ask, and I'm actually interested.)
In other news, my friend Sarah and I have finally met up with our old school friend Hayley whom I mentioned a few blog posts ago for coffee tonight. We were so nervous, but from the moment we met her again it was just like old times - except we're all five years older - and there was no awkwardness whatsoever. It was really, really nice. Hooray!
1. If you could travel back in time & kick anyone, who would it be & why?
President Woodrow Wilson. This may seem quite a random choice, but given my immersion over the last year or so in the history of the world wars, it's actually kind of relevant for me. If Wilson hadn't gone all hippy in 1918 with his Fourteen Points about how everyone should hold hands in peace and be compassionate and be fair to nationalities and not embittered, a whole lot of expectations would not have been raised (which, incidentally, he never meant or could have been able to fulfil), the Treaty of Versailles may not have been such a shock to Germany, and Hitler may not have come to power - although, of course, that's all speculation, hindsight is 20/20, etc etc. He also should have persuaded the US Senate to actually support the Treaty they had been a major part of making and weakening, as then it could actually have been workable. In my opinion. Can I kick them as well? [For more info on the basics see the Wikipedia page]
Of course, it may make more sense to travel back in time and kick Hitler. I just doubt that would make much difference to an egotistical evil sadistic maniac who would probably just have me shot/hung/tortured/gassed anyway. But it would have been immensely satisfying.
2. When people mistake your name for another name, what is it?
I'm Alison, usually Allie, in reality - but there's a woman at my church who persists in calling me Alice, even though I've told her a million times that it's not my name. One time I did get a popstar to sign my diary, and when he spelt my name, he wrote 'Illie'. Which is a bit weird.
3. If you could add any question to this Meme what would it be?
What would you never sue someone for? (Just because I can't think of anything poignant or amusing to ask, and I'm actually interested.)
In other news, my friend Sarah and I have finally met up with our old school friend Hayley whom I mentioned a few blog posts ago for coffee tonight. We were so nervous, but from the moment we met her again it was just like old times - except we're all five years older - and there was no awkwardness whatsoever. It was really, really nice. Hooray!
Friday, May 11, 2007
bureaucracy is oppressive
I would like to add some more rules to my imminent tyrannical dictatorship.1) Anyone who has at any time devised policy for Studylink, that oppressor of the hard-working student-proletariat, is off to the gulag. As soon as I am in power, a task force will immediately investigate the farce that is my student allowance woes of the last week. Those who forgot to tell me that I needed to prove my income, those who gave me a day to make my boss write me a letter, those who then ignored the letter and didn't pay me my money - they're all off to the gulag, for obviously trying to subvert the course of the revolution.
2) Small children who don't pay attention to their tutors will spend an hour every day copying out the words, "I must treat my tutor as I would treat the supreme leader of this great and glorious nation."
Thank you.
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