On Dit - 77.11 - Nostalgia Edition by On Dit

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

nostalgia edition

Agro

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

Who to thank, who to thank... - Adam Marley, you’re a sweetheart. - Andrew Auld now with the working title of “Sub-Editor of Awesome”. - Kimbo at reception, we tease but you’re #1. - Kim Dowling, our new best friend. -People who buy us pity drinks much appreciated. - Media tutors for their patience ,it’s not the destination, it’s the journey guys. - Vinny’s sweet new Media job, proof there is light at the end of the Arts/Media tunnel. - Amanda and Ursula for taking Vinny on a date, turning that frown upside down - Polaroid 600 Instant Film

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contents

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

thank you

the team

On Dit: proudly sponsored by the Adelaide University Union.

pop rock s 4 5 6 7-9 10-16 18-19 20-23 24-26 27 28-31 32-33 34-35 36 37 38-41 42 43 44 45 46-47 48-49 50

Editorial State of the Union AUU Watch Current Affairs Film Poetry Music Arts Op Shop Short Stories local Issues Feature: Smoking Ditlicious Science Fashion Sport Chelsea Cinema Feast Festival Nightlife Devil’s Advocate Vox Pop Social Fumbling

Editors: Steph Walker & Vincent Coleman

The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

l ia r o it d e ’ s r o it d e the

t with Steph & Vincen

Steph Walker Hello again, and welcome to the second to last edition of On Dit for 2009! I do hope you enjoy the creepy photo of me to the right; needing a picture in every edition (vanity) has left me scraping the barrel. Look out for a picture of my fancy bike named Mary Louise Parker within the pages of this edition. She is a beauty. And from the nostalgic time of the 70s! how topical. In other nostalgia related news - please check out the article on The Chelsea Cinema by Justin Kentish (pg 31). Also feel free to scoot over to page 8 to read a retort to the article “Radelaide or Sadelaide” to read a more rad-focused piece. I think it’s pivotal at this point to say one thing: My aunty totally knows Agro. Yeah. When I was five I received the best gift of all time - Agro’s greatest hits tape. Full of 70s and 80s tunes - yet with the soothing voice of the 90s most loved puppet. Back up singing was not done by Ranger Stacey, that is the only real

downfall to what is arguably the best novelty album ever made. I’d simply like to take a trip down a (hopefully mutual) memory lane. When I am old enough to make children listen to me I’d like to think they’ll sit on my knee and hear something like this: “There was once a program called Play School with a range of hosts - but Bernitta was the fairest of the all!.” The kids would tug on my sleeve: “Aunty Steph/Mum please tell us another story, the one where you realised that we were living in a computer simulated world while robots harvested us for energy until you found ‘The One’ and sort out the situation using you Kung-Fu skills. I’ll sigh and say “Not tonight If you promise to go to sleep

Vincent Coleman Nostalgia is big right now… really big. Jay jay’s pretty much thrives on it, along with the rest of the internet t-shirt industry. It’s not the childhood I remember however. It has all of the trappings of the late 80s-early 90s, the same things but it’s just not quite right. I know for one that I never saw a Gumby t-shirt when I was a kid. What I do remember, what I pine for, are the actual t-shirts of my childhood. Aliens skateboarding, Sharks surfing and wearing sunglasses and T-Rex’s slam-dunking a basketball wearing rollerblades. Fuck yeah. If I had a time machine I’d go back and buy up on fat kid sized tee’s.

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Steph’s friend Adam shares my love of these, but only found tony child sizes, so his g/f stitched a kid’s sized Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to a regular t-shirt: Genius! I’ve spent many a late hour in the office hunting down these images to print transfers myself, but to no avail. Has anyone out there scanned old Target catalogues into deviant art? I doubt it, and if so I don’t want to know why. On a creepier note I was walking past an ‘Adult’ store and saw a Rainbow Brite costume in the window. What the fuck!? Uncool people, uncool…

straight after I’ll tell you about the time when I was eight years old and I was left at home - by accident, while my family went to Paris. At first I quite enjoyed being by myself over chistmas but then Joe Pesci broke into my house and I had to defend it - It was funny - but I also learnt the importance of having a family.” I’m awesome with kids.

As the academic year inevitably starts to wind down, it’s important to remember not to get overwhelmed by the assignments piling up. Students face all kinds of stress – whether it’s working too much to devote time to study, or financial crisis, or you don’t agree with a mark you’ve been given for a major assignment, or you’ve been ill but your lecturer won’t give you an extension. Never fear - the AUU brings you the Education Welfare Officers! Located in the ground floor of the Lady Symon or next to the Mayo Café, these caped super-heroes are able to offer a buffet of assistance. Centrelink cut you off for some bizarre reason? Chris Gent shall smite them with his laserbeam-eyes. Missed your exam because your syphilis was playing up? Vicki McCoy shall conjure supplementary exam application forms from out of a hat. Had to take time off work to study and now can’t pay your electricity bill? Eirean James shall KAPOW and SHAZAAM a possible extension. You can drop in and visit the EWOs, or give them a call on 8303 5430. Laserbeams, conjuring, KAPOWing and SHAZAAMing may not necessarily be available.

that’s la vinia

While you’ve got your heads buried in the books, or have a pile of books looming ominously nearby as you watch all seven seasons of Buffy as a form of procrastination, the AUU Events team are hard at work to provide you with some entertainment to break up the monotony of study. On the 14th and 28th of October (also known as the Wednesday of week 10 and 12), the AUU is hosting a Quiz Night with a Twist, hosted by Adelaide Comedian, Anthony Lamond. Come along to the Eclipse room on Level 4 of Union House at 6pm for free pizza and some laughs, as well as have the chance to win some great prizes. Come with a team, or come by yourself and we’ll find a table for you.

For those sporty types amongst you, the AUU is hosting Sports on the Green on Thursday 15th October in week 10. You can register via the AUU website, www. auu.org.au, either as an individual or as a team. There’s volleyball, soccer, DJs, free food and Red Bull over at Park 12 behind the uni. I’m trying to convince some student politicians to form a team, so you might even get the chance to see some of your representatives get all hot and sweaty – not saying that’s going to be a highlight though. Coming up on the 16th of October is the AUU’s most controversial event, Sex and Sensibility. Check out our stalls on the Barr Smith Lawns during the day and come along to the Unibar in the evening for some entertainment. Every year, any event the AUU runs which is related to sexuality in any way draws some complaints. However, I’d like to point out that many students are engaged in sexual activity (not all at the same time) - the aim is for all students to be doing so safely, consensually and hopefully everyone has a good time. If you think that you’re likely to be offended by any sexual content related to this event, it’s quite simple – don’t go into the enclosed marquee which has large signs all over it saying that there is sexually related content inside. Finally, the results are in for the AUU, SRC and Student Media Elections, as well as the AUU referenda. The new AUU Constitution was passed with 75% of students voting in favour. This is an impressive result and I am thrilled that the 2009 board was able to achieve this much needed reform. As for the new student representatives, I wish them the best of luck for 2010. The newly elected AUU board will take office on 1st of December, but will be meeting in October to elect their new Office Bearers, including AUU President. If you’d like to get in touch with me, either to abuse me about Sex and Sensibility, or to inform me about any super-powers you’ve witnessed the EWOs use to battle the forces of evil aka Centrelink, you can reach me at lavinia.emmett-grey@ adelaide.edu.au.

Lavinia Emmett-Grey The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

by Hannah Mattner

At long last, the elections are over! Well, I know, they were a month ago for you, but the votes were just counted at my end, so excitement is all around. The first, and in my eyes, the most important outcome is that the Referendum passed with a 75% yes vote! University Council didn’t think that meagre students could comprehend a nuanced 4 part question, so those of little faith forced a reduction to a single question. Despite Board’s concerns, it made it through the gauntlet of people who would campaign against it on the basis of a single caveat (although that could be because all those campaigners were flat out trying to get themselves or their allies on to Board). This means that there is now less outdated, pre-VSU confusion in the Constitution, that there are 16 Board directors (beginning with the group just elected), that by-elections are now no longer (the position will default to the 17th elected Board director) and that a 2/3 majority can now vote to remove a board director. It also means our current directors keep their positions until November 30. Which I’m sure they’re all thrilled about. The factional breakdown is:

Independents:1

With eight of 16 directors Internationals: 2 shared across Activate Liberty: 2 and Indy-Go, it appears Innovate: 3 quite certain that the Indy-Go: 3 President for 2010 will be from the left, particularly Activate: 5 as Lavinia Emmett-Grey of Indy-Go also has a vote as outgoing President. This makes for a definite majority, even without the support of the international students or the independent. My money for President would currently be on Fletcher O’Leary, but there’s always the possibility of something happening before the vote.

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The result also means that the left will have a strong hold on Board overall. This is particularly true for confidential items, where left leaning independent Eric Parsonage will have to make his own decisions, rather than surveying the student population to decide his vote, as he has promised to do on public items. The potential is strong in this one. If Eric keeps his promise and gives interested students some idea of what’s coming up in Board meetings before they happen, I will be over the moon. It will provide some of the openness that the AUU Board often loses when maintaining the balance between being a democratically elected governing body and a corporate board. On the SRC, Activate and Indy-Go students together make up 14 of the 16 councillors, with Innovate people filling the other two general council positions. This doesn’t give the left a strong hold. It gives them an iron grip, which they’re sure to use, barring too much in-fighting. Finally, the NUS delegation is an interesting split of one independent leftie (Indy-Go’s Lavinia Emmett-Grey), two Innovate people (only they’re called Unity when they go interstate) and three NLS (read: Activate) delegates, one of whom may be pretty disillusioned with the factional system after his faction failed to send any preferences for AUU Board. These students will represent Adelaide Uni at the annual meeting of the national lobby group for students, where the factional split will be balanced by the factions from other universities. Overall, it’s been a fascinating – and seemingly quieter – election period. The left have solidified their control of Board so that it will probably only be the particularly worrisome issues that don’t have a simple vote, although the Indy-Go directors will be unpredictable enough to keep it interesting. This should be a good year to see if the left have what it takes to forge the Union into what they believe it can be. After all, there’s not much to stop them.

onging for the past is dangerous. Pining for epochs passed pulls people from present reality. Sentimental attachments limit peoples thought, and therefore their choices. If modernity means anything, it is to break with the past.

Liberal Nostalgia: Opening The Gap? The Peter Sutton Perspective and the Politics of Suffering. By Shelley Laslett

The evidence that sentimentality can be damaging is glaringly apparent in Australian Indigenous communities. But why are they in such a state? Why has progress been so elusive? Gough Whitlam palpably poured sand into Vincent Langari’s hands; the Racial Discrimination Act (despite the Liberal’s suspension of its principles in the NT) is still alive and well; self-determination has been granted; ‘Sorry’ for previous wrongs has been said. Yet aboriginal people still too often live in inhumane conditions, which are an international disgrace while the gap between indigenous and nonindigenous people is widening. The answer is undoubtedly complex, and someone will get upset no matter what is proposed. One analyst brave enough to move beyond the niceties of political correctness is University of Adelaide anthropologist and linguist, Peter Sutton. Sutton has assisted over 50 Aboriginal land claims, most notably the Wik people of the Cape York Peninsula. In his new book, The Politics of Suffering: Indigenous Australia and the end of the Liberal Consensus, Sutton challenges liberal notions that all that aboriginal communities need is self-governance, for the white majority to stop interfering and all would be right. Recently, I spoke with Professor Sutton about his controversial new book. Shelley Laslett: In your new book The Politics of Suffering, you suggest that with the death of the Liberal Consensus regarding self-governance we are moving into new ground. What is this new ground and how should Governments navigate their way through? Professor Peter Sutton: We are moving away from the idea of self-governance, as Aboriginal communities now resemble ghettos. A ghetto is a racially segregated section of society. A ghetto represents illmobility. They are psychiatrically restrictive. What aboriginal people want - like all people - is opportunity and freedom. The freedom to choose, the freedom to choose to go and live and work in Carnis, and go back to Aurukun on weekends for hunting and fishing. Right now for these people there is no such choice.

SL: If the evidence of Aboriginal communities becoming increasingly like ghettos is so apparent, why do you think both State and National Governments are reluctant to acknowledge the issue? PS: The people who argue for current Government practices to continue are the people that want these ghettos to keep going. They are city-bound armchair romantics that have never been to [remote Aboriginal communities], who naively believe the travel logs, and need a bit of a grow-up experience. SL: Are you suggesting that, realising the dire situation within their community, most Aboriginal people would rather live within towns and cities? Is moving beyond their community the only way to grant them access to the freedom they desire? PS: Yes. A story that demonstrates this point happened not so long ago. I was in Aurukun in the main street and the Mayor of Aurukun, Neville Pootchemunka pulled up to me in his ute and proudly stated that “All of [his] kids were in boarding school because [he] wanted them to have a chance.” All the land that Aboriginal People are going to secure has been secured. There won’t be anymore. That period has come to an end. We just fiddle around the edges with things like Native Title and co-existing rights. But in terms of securing access for recreation, hunting, and visiting graves, that’s set up and won’t go away. As I mentioned before, Aboriginal people should have the freedom to choose. This is where I think Noel Pierson’s idea of ‘orbiting’ is a good one. Having the ability to live and work in a city or town and then be able to return to the land for hunting, ceremonies or for religious beliefs. SL: What role should Governments play in the future to resolve issues concerning communities? PS: The way I see things having to develop, is having the State pull its head out of people’s private business, and provide strong support where people have a need, be they Aboriginal, Chinese, or refugees and migrants. The state has to help people in real need. But the state doesn’t have to set up a category of people who are given special treatment on the basis of their race. What message does that convey to a young Aboriginal wanting to be equality? You convey the idea that there is something defective about being Aboriginal, and that’s something we need to move beyond. The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

adelaide is like a bean bag words by anh caprile I love Adelaide. A good few of

my friends and readers alike would strongly disagree with me and contest every point I make about this beautiful city but I think people are too blinded with this metropolis lifestyle that eventually, once ventured will realised it’s nothing compared to Adelaide. When I say metropolis, I refer to all the fast paced capitals of the world like New York, Tokyo, LA, London and so forth. I understand people’s need to get out and explore the world, see new things, meet interesting people, get drunk in different bars and collect weird stories. To this I say “Do. Go!” Take that gap year, go travel, backpack across Europe and Asia, go diving in the Seychelles and Maldives. Get it out of your system and come back here to study, get that transcript paper

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that says you are now qualified to overcharge people. You might fancy the idea working in the States (or even in Iceland if you came out of Polar Law), but I will bet that you will end up in Adelaide again, not because you have to, but because you want to. What I can’t stand is when I hear people saying that Adelaide boring and has nothing to offer them, especially when they themselves haven’t set foot outside the perimeter of SA. You don’t know how good you have it! I’ve been to all those places and many others, I’ve lived in Dubai for the last four years. Dubai is very different to New York, but not a lot of people know that. Most of the people I’ve talked to have this amazing impression of Dubai. I don’t deny Dubai is a world of materialism and money, but all

that glitz and glamour is also an ugly smoke screen for a crippling economy and slave labour. Yes it has the world’s biggest shopping mall, it’s home to the world’s only seven star hotel, and it’s building the world’s biggest tower. But so what? How much of that would you actually value beyond the wow factor? For me? Zilch! A city’s greatness can be very misleading. However, the same can’t be said for cities like New York and London. They are fantastic cities to be in! When I was in New York, there was never a minute of boredom, there were always things to do and see! It was like party 24/7! A really great party, where the music was pumping, you’re super hyper and that fit guy/girl you’ve chatting to wants to “go some place else.” Oh my, I sound like I’m contradicting myself! But that is exactly it. It’s like a party 24/7. You can’t live at a party 24/7 realistically. You go to a party, have fun, get drunk, bump uglies and then get the hell home, because it’s energy depleting! I don’t know about you but I love my home. It’s like a bean bag that you slum down into and drown away

current affairs feature

from the rest of the world to nurse that hangover. That’s how I see Adelaide. It’s like a bean bag that moulds to your every wants and needs. Adelaide has four seasons! This seems a novelty for me as Dubai is a desert with temperature of hot and extremely hot and the UK? People get hospitalised for heat strokes when it’s 24°C. Plus I think the rain and lack of sunlight is the root of people’s overindulgence in bronzer and why everyone walks around like they have umbrellas up their arses. Adelaide has both land AND hills, unlike lets say Sydney, which can be a very scenic drive home but it’s so claustrophobic! The best part about Adelaide is I could take a plane trip to Melbourne, go shopping and fly home in time for dinner. Or fly over to Sydney for a concert over the weekend and fly back in time to start the week. It’s so convenient because I have access to all that other cities have to offer, but I don’t have to live like canned sardines and pay stupid amounts for a studio in the CBD when I can get a real place that is not a cardboard box, two minutes from the uni.

In last month’s Metropolis edition, Ms. Laslett mentioned the “substantial” time one would have to wait for a cab. But I would rather wait twenty minutes for an affordable cab ride, than pay the exorbitant rates in cities like London. As for the line ups at drinking spots? Well, if you can’t handle it here, you won’t be going out much anywhere else. Even the remotest bars in Ireland would have pretty hefty line ups most of the time. I think the supposed ‘Cheers’ syndrome is an imaginary disorder people develop when they restrict themselves to one social circle. I have friends who live all over the world. As a third culture kid I’m used to approaching new people and it doesn’t matter how small a city is, it amazes me the new friends I make. To put this into perspective, of the four hundred and something friends you have on Facebook, how many of those do you actually have contact

with? How many do you of those friends do you spend time with outside of the computer screen? No one is ever too old to be friends with and no one is ever too weird to talk to. This is what I have realised from travel and living in the metropolises of the world. The problem is when people are too lodged in their comfort zone, and this is the same anywhere you live. It’s not the place - It’s you. I’ve moved around a lot and have found that being back in Adelaide does wonders for the body and mind. It’s really awesome to have the opportunity to travel and see other places, but Adelaide is always my bean bag.

It’s small here, but spread out enough to get lost every now and then. Small enough to catch a bus from one end of town to another and big enough to drive and have parking spots. According to The Australian, parking in Sydney CBD averaged over $70 a day and London even more so! And New York? Forget about it! Parking spaces there are like family heirlooms, and are more expensive! On the other end of the spectrum, Dubai parking is dirt cheap and fuel is cheaper than water. Dubai has a public transport system, but is predominantly used by labourers. It is very uncomfortable for anyone else to use especially women because we get stared at and the quota(!) of seats reserved for women is usually limited to the first two.

miniature pultney st by mimpi

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Taking Woodstock (M)

★ ★ ★★

The Young Victoria (M)

★★★

Sex, mud, drugs, Jews and hippies. Is there anything else we could possibly want from a film? ‘Taking Woodstock’ delivers on all fronts, encapsulating the essence of the iconic 60’s music festival. Delivering an imperious soundtrack, complimented by an adequate storyline, ‘Taking Woodstock’ is one of the best homages to the great period that graced mankind some 40 years ago.

‘The Young Victoria’ is another visually lush period presentation of life within the parameters of luxury, beauty and power which constructs yet another entangled tale of drama and historical inaccuracy. Directed by FrenchCanadian Jean-Marc Vallèe, ‘Victoria’ is a snapshot of the nineteenth century Queen’s early days and her experiences with falling in and out of civil popularity up until the birth of her first child, where the film abruptly ends.

Following a small-town wannabe entrepreneur, ‘Taking Woodstock’ is not so much a story about the festival itself, but how it rose to its legendary status. Brilliantly capturing the essence of hippyism and communitarianism, while accurately reflecting the 60’s decade.

Despite the fact that Emily Blunt steals the show as the young Victoria herself, her efforts are only enough to slow the sinking of this film. Screenwriter Julian Fellowes (Gosford Park) does his best to convey the turbulent youthful years of England’s longest ever serving Monarch, but fails to find the point where teenage angst on account of parental pressure, first love and isolation culminate with the excitement, frustration and fear that comes with being hailed the youngest Queen in British history. This film had the potential to be just as fresh and excitable as Victoria’s youth, but has lamentably fallen under the period-drama cookie-cutter. Many viewers may also find an entertaining similarity between the characters of Victoria and Sophia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette.

Director Ang Lee brilliantly delivers on the grandeur front. Immeasurably vast panoramic scenes, capture the scale and vastness of Woodstock itself and justly represents to an unaware audience what it was like to be a part of something so original, so historic and, let’s face it, so drug infused that it will never be experienced again.

It’s easy to comprehend the conservative antiWoodstock town’s people protesting to close the festival down. We know the ‘spaced out’ hippy organiser who rides around on a horse, delivering messages of peace and harmony to all. We can even understand the Vietnam vet, who has lost his place in the world and just wants to scream “motherfucker!” to anyone and everyone. Not least and probably most importantly we can all identify with the main character Eli, who is really just looking for an escape to what his life has become. Is Taking Woodstock a big Hollywood blockbuster that will wipe the face off The Hulk’s ticket sales? No. Will Taking Woodstock pressure the standards of society and make as immeasurable an impact as Brokeback Mountain? No. But will ‘Taking Woodstock’ enlighten those moviegoers willing to embrace it unto the essence of Woodstock ? Yes it will.

The strong British cast work well together, with Jim Broadbent as King William still as quirky as ever, clearly continuing to glow after his fine form earlier this year in ‘Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince’. Harriet Walter as Queen Adelaide is a darling – her advice, sympathy and genuine love for her niece is memorable. However, the gold here is Victoria’s disdain for cutthroat dalliances in politics and the royal power games played by all. Her entrapment is cheesily evoked through imagery of iron window bars, heavy, locking gates and the exploitation of the game of chess as a constantly referenced metaphor for her own battles. For a film produced by Scorsese and the Duchess of York, Sarah Ferguson, it is easy to see who had a say in the way this film was made. Words by Amy Killin

Words by Will Fisher 10

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Charlie & Boots (M)

★★★

The September Issue (M)

★★ ★ ★

Three things to know about Paul Hogan before watching this: he’s repaid all his debts to the taxman; as a painter before acting, he helped paint the Sydney Harbour Bridge; and his voice is just as ocker as it’s always been. These explain his allegiance to film in Australia, the post-credits blooper and, well, that this is an Aussie comedy. But Hogan is not the hero in this father-son bonding journey as we see yet another road-trip experience.

‘The September Issue’ is a documentary following Chief Editor of Vogue, Anne Wintour, through the process of creating the September 2007 Issue. Simply put, it is brilliant. Whether you love Vogue or have never heard of it, this is still a very enjoyable film. On one hand, fashionistas will be in fashion heaven, while those that prefer their trackies and sneakers will find the film humorous and insightful.

The relationship between father Charlie (Hogan) and son Boots (Shane Jacobson, of ‘Kenny’ fame) may be fractured, but the death of matriarch Gracie gives Boots the heave-ho to fix the problem. The ensuing road-trip begins with the idea to fulfill a forgotten dream of fishing at Cape York, Australia’s northernmost point, resulting in a cruisy ride across three states. Hogan is still cool with his leather watch and cuffs, although his face is just as leathery now, while Jacobson (minus the lisp) uses expression well his face can sometimes be enough to make you laugh. The jokes they banter around are amusing (particularly one discussing Jesus’ death), but cheap laughs are few and far between as it moves between funny and serious. Some attempts at emotion fall a bit flat because of the comedic emphasis, but Hogan’s Charlie does particularly well here as he struggles to accept the loss of his wife.

Wintour has a legendary reputation, from the ice queen as portrayed in ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ movie, to the ‘most powerful woman in the United States’, according to one devotee. Wintour is an entity herself, and the film gives an insightful glimpse to the real Anna Wintour. I had no idea the extent of her reach, but the film reveals that what people wear really is determined by this one amazing woman. I personally loved Wintour, especially for her bluntness. However you also see the charming side of her, and her ‘decisiveness’, which she attributes her success to.

‘Charlie & Boots’ works a bit of randomness in between likeable characters and a plot that flows. Charlie is a melancholy foil to Boots’ enthusiasm, and their conversations revolve around what men like best – talk of women, fishing and trying to outdo each other. It is thoroughly Australian, complete with broad accents and stereotypical country folk, and a real sense of pride comes from the landscape of our rural areas. Even with a predictable story the setting makes up for it in the wondrous landscape in our own backyard. Words by Katina Vangopoulos

In terms of documentaries, The September Issue is as good as they get. With a fast pace, short and snappy segments of interviews, beautiful cutaways, upbeat music and a touch of humour, this film can be appreciated by those who usually keep their distance from the doco genre. Some other intriguing characters also emerge throughout the film, including Grace Coddington, the Creative Director who works closely with Wintour, and like many, often clashes with her. Coddington’s creations alone are enough to warrant watching the film. Anyone who is remotely interested in photography or journalism should see this amazing process of creation. Most interestingly, the film reveals an intimate look at the the internal machinations of the magazine and the previously hidden world of Vogue. Words by Alexandra Blue

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15 minutes of

‘Fame’

with director

Kevin Tancharoen Words by Anders Wotzke

It’s an unwritten law in film that Hollywood tends to break with increasing regularity: never remake a classic. So when it was announced that a remake was in the works for the 1980 Academy Award-winning film ‘Fame’ -- a beloved musical drama that encapsulated the harsh reality of the New York City High School of Performing Arts-- fans took to online message boards in a fit of rage. “Is nothing sacred?” asks one vexed devotee on the film’s IMDb page, another scornfully retitling the film “High School Musical: College”. Having yet to see the re-imagined version of ‘Fame’, I can’t honestly reassure fans that their fond memories of the original will remain unscathed come September 24th, the film’s release date. However, I have had the opportunity to talk with someone who can; the film’s director, Kevin Tancharoen. While ‘Fame’ might be his first feature, Tancharoen had a lot of promising things to say about his approach to remaking a film that he, like the aforementioned fans, holds dear to his heart. ---

ANDERS WOTZKE: With ‘Fame’ being your debut feature, I think it’s fair to say you’ve really jumped straight in the deep end by remaking a classic. How did you prepare yourself for such a huge undertaking? KEVIN TANCHAROEN: Well I was a pretty big fan of the original film, so I had a pretty good idea of how I could have seen a remake of ‘Fame’ being possible. I think a mistake would have been to do a direct remake; you know, have another Coco and recast Leroy and so forth. We didn’t want to do that, we wanted to make a completely new experience while keeping the integrity of the first film. So in preparing for the movie – I come from background in stage direction, so the prep time involved in those kind of things is so extensive because once you press go, you can’t press pause and you can’t stop it. You really have to prepare for everything. With the movie, I just kind of utilised my background in stage preparation as much as I possibly could. So when it came time to film on set, everything was very composed and everyone knew what was going on. We also had a very detailed shot list. I didn’t feel too uncomfortable with this movie because I knew all these characters and I grew up in this planet of performing arts, so hopefully I was able to bring that onto the screen. AW: So what did you say to convince the studio execs you were the right man to helm this remake? KT: I went in there with a lot of concerns at first. I said to them that I know the musical genre is extremely popular right now, but that ‘Fame’ was such a different kind of hybrid. It wasn’t really a musical, it was a drama at the end of the day with a musical component attached. All the musical numbers really elevate the storyline and emotional arch and I thought that was very unique. I also believe that the aesthetic of this film -- the rawness, realness and grittiness of New York city – as well as the authenticity of the school was something that needed to be seen again. So I told them that was something 12

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that has to come across in this film and that we have to tell some real stories here, not cartoonish characters. Let’s make them real and not apologise for them. Let’s make this a dramatic film with some heavy musical components in there. I also told them when it comes to the style of shooting, I am not a big fan of the MTV generation’s aesthetic style of cutting or filming, where it’s more like coverage. There are a lot of times where I feel like a musical number is done where a person who walks into a room and says “get me six cameras -- put one on wide, swing another back and forth on a crane, another one on a dolly, one guy each on hands, feet and face – and we’ll cut it later”. I don’t think you get the best of the best with that. I really got my influences from the way Bob Fosse [‘All That Jazz’], Stanley Donen [‘Singin’ in the Rain’] and Busby Berkeley [‘Babes in Arms’] shot a lot of films, where everything was very composed, crafted and storyboarded. I wanted to go back to that single camera style of shooting when it comes to the musical t more emotional texture. AW: I noticed that film has been classified PG in the USA, so will it still deal with confronting issues like sexual abuse and suicide? KT: Yeah! All of those issues are still in the movie! AW: Really!? How’d you get away with that? KT: I don’t know! But that’s the thing – it opens up the door for more people to see it, so I’m all for it.

AW: Teenagers today are obviously not the same as they were back in the 1980’s, so how have you made sure ‘Fame’ speaks to today’s generation of teens? I went to a bunch of performing arts schools to interview a lot of teenagers and asked them what their obstacles were at the school, and how it carries out into the real world. The one thing that I was very, very adamant was really kind of showcasing this ‘old school’ mentality of fame. You know, where it’s more about hard work. Where it’s more about dedication and putting in the blood, sweat and tears to achieve the goal. Not where it’s simply putting the word ‘fame’ under a microscope and having that being the only thing that you strive for -- to be noticed, to be famous. I definitely think that idea is really exploited as far as tabloids or YouTube go, or even those crazy reality shows where you can literally watch a train wreck unfold in front of your eyes. The idea of 15 minutes of fame is so relevant, because that kind of fame doesn’t last and it’s never real. I think that the fame that lasts is for the kind of people that put in the hard work, put in the dedication and really study their craft. AW: It’s definitely refreshing to see a musical drama come out starring teenagers who are not already superstars; there are no Zac Efron’s or Miley Cyrus’, for example. I’m assuming that was deliberate? KT: Yeah, we didn’t want to do that at all. That would have been a weird version of ‘Fame’. It was a reason of authenticity. The pure idea is that it’s about high schoolers and young people who want to achieve their goals and

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successful. But if you cast superstars in these roles, you lose the authenticity completely. I wanted people to get to know the characters as they watched the movie and grow with them, instead of walking into the cinema and seeing your superstar on the screen as you already having some preconceived idea about them. That was a very important thing to me; the fact that you could take these unknown characters and introduce them to the world though this movie makes it that much more grounded.

AW: With the original ‘Fame’ winning 2 academy awards for sound and music, do you feel pressured to achieve a similar level of success? KT: Oh definitely, I mean, that pressures always been there. All you can do is try to make the best version you can, and not compete with it. Because if you try to compete with it, you’re doing the wrong thing. But if you try to make the best version you possibly can, you can only hope to achieve the same success. I think if we set forth and said “ok I think we have to win two Oscars”, there’s no way we’ll win them. It’s just the wrong way to go about doing it. I think you have to walk into the situation humbled knowing that it will never be that good.

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AW: I read an article online saying Madonna was approached to do a cameo in the film, but declined because she failed an audition to be in the original. Is that true? KT: [laughs] Yeah I read that too! You know, I had no idea she auditioned for the first movie. Yeah, I just had no idea. I thought that was a very interesting article cause I don’t ever remember hearing she got offered a role at all. I remember someone sending it to me, and saying “I don’t ever remember anyone talking about Madonna?” but it’s interesting that she auditioned for the first movie. --Fame hits cinemas on September 24th.

The Taking of Pelham 123

★1/2

In ‘The Taking of Pelham 123’, director Tony Scott’s camera zips around like paranoid fly. It appears Scott grew restless because he wanted to make a 90 minute long music video, but was been told by producers to make a film about a phone conversation instead. Mind you, it didn’t stopped him from trying; ‘Pelham’ is packed with enough rap music, nauseating camera jerks, speed shifts and freeze frames to almost convince us something actually interesting is occurring on screen. Now I haven’t seen the 1974 original, but unless this revamped screenplay removed everything of quality, I simply can’t see how ‘Pelham’ was ever feature film material. Here we have all-round nice guy Walter Garber (Denzel Washington), a train coordinator, who is unfortunate enough to be on duty when not-so-nice guy Ryder (John Travolta), a train hijacker, is out to make some money. Garber inadvertently becomes a hostage negotiator when Ryder and his armed men bring Pelham 123 to a halt in the middle of the subway tunnel, threatening to kill the passengers if they don’t receive ten million dollars within sixty minutes. The only way I managed to endure through their hour long chit-chat was by hoping the film was building up to something. A twist conclusion, perhaps -- anything that would make the first four reels a worthwhile exercise of my patience. But the twist here is that there are no twists-everything is as it seems. It’s as if Scott was convinced that star power alone was enough to carry the film and he needn’t bother with any narrative substance. Frankly, he almost gets away with it. Denzel Washington, having played an uncannily similar role in Spike Lee’s remake of ‘Inside Man’, certainly knows how to talk his way out of a dull situation. John Travolta also deserves kudos for attempting to make something more of his character than what the screenplay suggests. He hints at the possibility that Ryder’s ‘crazed gunman’ act is really just a devious facade, and that he’s actually a brilliant mastermind waiting for perfect moment to reveal his grand plan. But not only is his supposed ‘grand plan’ stripped of all its mystique by being prematurely revealed, it also turns out that he is, in fact, just fruity in the head. Perhaps the fundamental flaw of ‘Pelham’ is that it misplaces and drastically misuses our investment in the characters. Take Garber for instance-- actually quite a likeable chap, but because he isn’t in any direct danger, we’re given no real reason to be concerned about him. Compare this to the far more suspenseful film, ‘Phone Booth’. For 81 minutes, Colin Farrell’s character is stuck inside phone booth, held hostage by a man on the end of the line with a sniper rifle aimed at his head. Now that’s a protagonist in a dangerous situation. Danger is what makes us feel anxious and anxiety is what creates suspense. Right up until the farcical conclusion of ‘Pelham’, the only real threat to Garber is his wife-- she really wants him to bring home some milk. Meanwhile, the hostages on the train who are actually in danger barely get a word in. If ‘The Taking of Pelham 123’ wanted to be even slightly thrilling, it should have been at least partly about them, and not about a guy having a pretty average day at the office. As if we really need a movie to tell us what that’s like. Words by Anders Wotzke The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

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Push

★ 1/2

If something bad ever happens, just “pull a Hollywood” and blame it all on the Nazis. Seriously, if Paul McGuigan’s sci-fi thriller ‘Push’ is anything to go by, they’re responsible for everything. In a ridiculously overloaded voice-over, Dakota Fanning’s character explains how Nazi experiments resulted in a breed of artificially enhanced humans with paranormal abilities. No, this is not an episode of ‘Heroes’, but it might as well be; there are those who can use telekinesis, Movers, those who can visualise the future, Watchers, and those who can control minds, Pushers. But that’s only the beginning; there are also Sniffs, Stitchers, Wipers, Shadows and a whole range of talents. Boasting all these powers, the film might have actually been quite a spectacle if the special effects didn’t look like they were photoshopped in by a seven year old who just discovered the lens flare tool.

Stone Bros.

★★★

1/2

Charlie and Eddie go to White Castle in Richard Frankland’s ‘Stone Bros.’, but are discriminated against once they arrive. Why? Because they’re indigenous Australians, and while they have a lot in common with the hilarious pot-smoking duo Harold and Kumar, the ‘White Castle’ in question is not a burger joint. Or if it were, Mc Reconciliation burgers would be in short supply. It’s not something you’ll hear very often, but Stone Bros. is what you’d call a culturally and politically important stoner comedy. Written and directed by Frankland, a proud member of the Gunditjmara tribe, it’s the first ever Aboriginal comedy to come out of Australia. The film still deals with topical themes such as racial discrimination and reconciliation (how could it not), but what sets it apart from other indigenous films is that it has the balls to laugh about them. Ironically, the catalyst for all the events in Stone Bros. is former Australian Prime Minister John Howard. Or at least a portrait of him hung inside a Perth Museum, where Eddie (Luke Carroll) works as a cleaner. He loses his job when his loud-mouthed, pot-smoking cousin Charlie (Leon Burchill) makes a surprise visit and accidently knocks over Howard’s portrait onto the museum owner’s cat. It’s the last straw for Eddie, who decides it’s time to leave the big smoke and head home to Kalgoorlie to reconnect with his Indigenous heritage by returning a sacred stone. Charlie, armed with 187 joints of marijuana, insists on coming along for the ride.

It’s almost as if every time David Bourla hit a wall when writing the screenplay – which was clearly quite often -he’d simply introduce a new character with a convenient power to keep things moving along. The result is a film featuring so many different characters with so many different powers, remembering them all requires a glossary. In fact, if you plan on seeing Push, do yourself a favour and take with you a printout of ‘The Powers’ section on the film’s Wikipedia page. While you’re there, you might as well printout the section on the film’s plot, because lord knows you’ll need that too. I can’t think of a single word in the English language that would justly convey the sheer stupidity, and impenetrable complexity, of Push’s narrative. So instead, in the same way Bourla’s screenplay seems to make up the rules as it goes along, I’m just going to invent one: stu-plex (stü-pleks) adj. stu-plex-er, stu-plex-iest 1. Something that is both irreconcilably stupid and complex at the same time, usually by fault of the Nazis. e.g. ‘Push’ is an incredibly stuplex film.

While it’s hard to look past the scripted nature of the characters, the likeable dynamic of the two protagonists keeps us in tune; Carroll’s subtle wit fairs well against Burchill’s matchless energy, however excessive it is. Most of the comedy derives from random slapstickery separate to the main message, such as Eddie’s hilariously woeful attempt at reversing up the road while stoned. On the flipside however, an encounter with demonic pooch greatly overstays its welcome and a bizarre outback wedding spoilt by a crazed demolitionist completely bombs. But when humour and meaning do merge, Stone Bros. shines; in one wacky dream sequence where Eddie is creepily doted on by white folk, social hierarchy is flipped on its head to both comical and political effect. It’s these inspired scenes that help overshadow the clunky dialogue and hitand-miss wit of Frankland’s screenplay. It’s not about to waft through the comedic stratosphere, but Stone Bros. is still a trip worth taking.

Words by Anders Wotzke

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Will the social fumblings continue after Vincent ends his reign as editor? Has he found love? Two kids? Really? Two kids... That was fast. Pick up the next edition of On Dit to find out!

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a clean, crisp winter By Benjamin Adams

Poetry

your absence is an ache that spreads through everything. memories that linger like perfume. memories of being alive in the wintertime speaking about the world. you wanted every part of it. more impressed than me, in the end with the way of things. remembered warm cafes and a feeling like the beauty of a clean, crisp winter.

I am a strong independent Woman fighting hard in a man’s world. I don’t shave my legs. The Man holds me down. But I will break the glass ceiling, Crash through the pink batts and asbestos roof, I will cut off his dick with the glass from the ceiling, And poison him with asbestos, Now choke on pink bats and oppression, monster! I want your money. Could you make the money finding easier? Please?

a clear smooth accent speaking about the world.

Me By James McCann

you went back to it. leaving a voice that spreads like an ache through everything.

His Majesty King Robert Was king of all he saw. Though issue of no noble, And his decrees ignored, He was loved by all the people, Saluted by police Deus ex machina, Frank. Let this poem die in peace.

King Roberts Abrupt End By Francis Titsdale

So who is Cassie Grow With her face as pure as snow Some people say she’s got an angelic glow But she’s a mean young bitch With that stiletto Man, Jack tried to mess with her Said ‘come over here sister,’ and tried to kiss her But he learnt a lesson you’d best remember Cassie left that bastard looking Just like the Black Dahlia Now he can’t stop smiling And Cassie’s started laughing And he can’t stop the bleeding Come right on back for more Screams Cassie leering

Every year, Every year hurtles fear upon this sandy bedlam; Scores are killed so one can build their pseudo-heaven. —Innumerable unknowns lost for lumps of stone on infinite brown shores… Egyptian mud conceals our blood and I believe no more. The mineral Sphinx growls to link us all in chains of tension —my pregnant wife whose strength’s in strife will bear a chain extension. My bones, all bruised, savagely used, are wrecked with every roar. Heaven spits the sun we slip before as Death kicks down our doors. So kings will glut, whilst slaves refute (in hush that yet must hide); and brothers will fall down rocky walls—two years ago mine died—; ’fore the tyrants say it’s nature’s way: for, I suspect, some eras to come. But I’ve faith no more as I leave this shore; for now my day is done.

Jew on Infinite Brown Shores By Peach Howey-Lenixxh

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Jack’s stemmed the flow His eyes all filled with woe Betray his fear and a new motto Cassie steps forward and icily she whispers Now don’t you mess with little Cassie Grow No don’t you mess with Cassie Grow

Who Is Cassie Grow? By Demetrius Kalatzis

William Redding sat in church With his head bowed And his fingers clasped in prayer Seeking mercy and seeking peace In his coat he hid his gun And as he raised his head He felt the judgement passed By the father, spirit and holy son In his anguish William Reached into his pocket And the steel he felt Did reassure him

You have cerebral palsy. Walking down the street Your leg trailing behind it’s lesser twin, One arm winding and kicking up, The other crossed into your friend’s.

Now his aim was sharp And his aim was true He pulled his piece And killed the preacher

It’s windy out, But you’re smiling and laughing. You have cerebral palsy. Your hair is in your face, And you can’t fix it; Your hands are busy.

The father’s blood spilt upon the alter The choir’s voice was hushed William screamed. But did not falter

Your friend’s heels Make her ankles wobble As if they’re about to snap Like old wood with faults Running along the grain.

He turned his pistol To the congregation There four more fell Before his grand finale

The green man looses patience, He turns red And stops blinking. You physically stutter And make your way Across the street. Your pant-suit is tired From holding you up.

Smoke curled from the barrel And smoke rose from the candles He took that shiny barrel And stuck it in his mouth So William absolved his sins With a bullet from his gun His body fell back into the isle And a red halo spread round his head

Cerebral Palsy By Steph Walker

The lord heard William’s confession And thus William was sainted

William’s Confession By Demetrius Kalatzis

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“It is not to be denied that dance music brings about a twitching of the boy, especially in the feet, of young people whose natural disposition is not entirely inhibited by the constraints of civilisation…” - Eduard Hanslick

“…music is not an embodiment of specific feelings…Music is essentially certain tones in their harmonic and rhythmic relations. The art, the beauty of music, consists in these sounds and not in their representational values.” - Morris Weitz

“If you develop an ear for sounds that are musical it is like developing an ego. You begin to refuse sounds that are not musical and that way cut yourself off from a good deal of experience.” - John Cage

“Music is essentially useless, as life is.” - George Santayana

“Where do we go from here? Towards theatre. That art more than music resembles nature. We have eyes as well as ears and it is our business while we are alive to use them.” -John Cage

“When people say “I feel like I’m dreaming,” the reason they feel like they’re dreaming is because they are dreaming…. -Philip Glass

Words by Courtney day 20

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n the afternoon of Sunday September 13, I attended the CD launch for ‘Desert Flower,’ the new album from Adelaide folk band The Beggars. The gig, held at The Governor Hindmarsh, ran from around 4 til 8, and showcased the talents of three local bands. The opening act, The Texettes, a country music trio of guitar, vocals and harmonica, weren’t to my tastes, although they performed well and were relatively entertaining. (Sometimes I find country music unbearable for its self-pitying angst and bland musicality, but The Texettes – despite their awful name – were at least tolerable.) The second support band was The Fiddle Chick, who I had heard of before but had never actually heard their music. They were amazing! While I enjoyed their instrumental music more – including a programmatic piece titled ‘The Mango Wall Disaster’ – their repertoire also encompassed a number of very interesting arrangments. All three of the girls sang at one point or another and their voices eloquently expressed anecdotal witticisms which were highly amusing (I thought!) The Beggars then took to the stage at around 6:30: the CD launch of their second album also functioned as the first leg of their second European tour which will take place during October. The band, consisting of Renee Donaghey (Vocals/Guitar), Stuart Day (Vocals/Guitar/ Mandolin/Violin/Harmonica) and Quinton Dunne (Vocals/Double Bass), had an interesting live set list, running through the ‘Desert Storm’ album in order.

@ The Gov The Beggars’ repertoire predominately consists of folk ballads which tell stories of rural Australian living and hardship, and the music is reminiscent of traditional folk songs of Britain and the Americas. All three musicians are singers and songwriters in their own right and three of favourite songs of the night were respectively written my each of them. ‘Carry My Load,’ Dunne’s contribution, was an autobiographical tale relating three generations of the composer’s family. ‘East of the Moon,’ written by Donaghey, was more positive and upbeat, a refreshing gig-like dance with light, happy lyrics. ‘Forgiveness’ (by Day) was, in contrast, very dark,the haunting story made even more poignant by the songwriter’s voice. This piece retold an incident from Day’s childhood: a farmer living in rural SA (near Mount Gambier) attempted to exorcise his wife, whose depression was mistaken as the work of the devil. All in all, the gig was very entertaining (although a little depressing!), and the music was intensely beautiful. For more information on The Beggars visit http://beggars.com.au

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Artic Monkeys Humbug

The Arctic Monkeys, for all their flaws, are a much-loved band. Though the hype surrounding their rise to fame and first album was laughably exaggerated by several UK publications, the fact remains that the everyman chronicling of Alex Turner set to meat-and-potatoes guitar rock (bar the consistently stunning drumming of Matt Helders) resonates with many. Undoubtedly one of the three or four biggest U.K. bands of the 21st century to date, the Monkeys have turned to Josh Homme (widely-revered Kyuss/Queens of the Stone Age ginger) to help them produce Humbug, their third album, with the result being a qualified success.

Musically, the Monkeys are to be respected for trying to never stay in one place for too long. The sound of their second album was markedly darker and more robust than their debut, and the progression, thanks to Homme’s expertise, continues here. Though it’s not really texture that changes, more the atmosphere. Never afraid to take a riff and run with it, the Monkeys continue that, though the grooves seem to have grown more languid, free of some of the manic buzzsaw energy of earlier tracks. Lyrically, Turner has never been in finer form. His kitchen-sink ruminations of young adult melodrama are imbued with more humanising touches of simile and his turns of phrase often bring laughter. He is still the main attraction of a band often derided as musically insipid and pandering to intellectual lowest common denominators, only what must be his own maturation and personal growth have affected his lyricism. Though their commercial popularity is undoubted, critical reaction to the Monkeys remains a puzzling business.

It ranges from the hyperbole of lapdogs the N.M.E. to indifference, and, curiously, being held up as a product of a dysfunctional Britain (it’s hardly reprehensible that they write songs about inner-city drama and failed relationships, is it?). So I’ll say this about Humbug. Fans of the band will like it as they have previous efforts, for the progression seems slow enough to not alienate established fans. Detractors will continue calling it vacuous and boring. The undecided? Depends on if you like relatable, catchy English rock music.

Music s Review by Mateo ke p a l z S lo Sewil

Mount Eerie Wind’s Poem expertly composed drones and sombre atmosphere. However, Elverum has succeeded in carving a singular niche for himself, and it continues unabated on ‘Wind’s Poem’.

Phil Elverum used to be a Microphone. Then he became Eerie. Feeling the Microphones had run their course, the Anacortes, Washington native adopted his current moniker and started down his now well-travelled path of sparse, elemental soundscapes inlayed with studio hiss and ambience and juxtaposed with intensely personal lyrics. For his most recent release, Elverum, who is known to accompany his albums with his illustrations and photographs, has taken inspiration from the atmospheric and compositional nous of black metal artists. And there are clear signs of this absorption; from the cover to the 22

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There is no such thing as a casual listener of Mount Eerie. Though the slow pace of the compositions may hint at ambient music, this is an album that demands, and is worthy of, your full attention. The adroitly constructed sound collages, subtle tonal shifts and near complete lack of rhythm (save the comparatively jaunty Between Two Mysteries) make this an album to absorb, to soak in. And Elverum does sometimes challenge the listener: though repeated listens give you an appreciation of their role in breaking up the album, two of the tracks, The Mouth of Sky and (Something), are pure drone noise, and the album’s centrepiece (though it’s actually the second track), the stupefying Through The Trees, is near 12 minutes in length. However, what makes this the work of a bona fide prodigy and not simply a moody composer is the lyrics, which intertwine natural imagery with matter personal to

Elverum. They elevate and humanise his music, which can sometimes disconnect from human concerns. True to the album’s name, Elverum has invoked poetry of nature; music that is challenging at first, but soon impossible to shake. And yes, while this is an archetype of the Serious Music I mentioned in an earlier review, don’t let that discourage you. Hear it and be fascinated by it. Afterward, thank Phil Elverum, as well as the trees, the wind, and the stones.

Wild Beasts Two Dancers

Recently, there’s been no end of hair pulling and teeth gnashing from the British music press about the quality of their nation’s output relative to their North American cousins. This has been happening for… well, it’s hard to pinpoint, but definitely at some point after the Beatles broke up. The reasons are hard to pin down; in U2 and Coldplay, the UK has, for better or worse, two of the world’s biggest bands. So why few good ones? Well, here’s one. Hailing from Kendal, the same part of the world as the creator of Postman Pat, are the Wild Beasts, who have returned with their second album in two years.

Though urged to do so, I never really jumped on the Wild Beasts bandwagon first time around. Limbo, Panto was met with enthusiasm with all who heard it – problem being, that wasn’t many. However, Two Dancers may yet propel them to the vanguard of ‘indie’ pop music; it is a confident, ambitious, gloriously lush record embellished by Hayden Thorpe’s ebullient voice and the music’s propulsive clang. The subject matter is standard fare for us self-aware Gen-Y’ers – touching on sex in bawdy album opener ‘The Fun Powder Plot’, nebulous class warfare in ‘We Still Got the Taste Dancing on our Tongues’, and some more sex in ‘This Is Our Lot’ (though it’s all tasteful…) – but framed in such a flamboyant, near camp manner by Thorpe as to either make the listener tune in or drop out.

enough to render it one of the UK’s best releases of the year. It is a record that engages with the listener on levels both superficial (it’s a fucking joy to hear) and artistic (you don’t have to feel guilty for liking it).

Wild Beasts are a band of the 21st century – mixing funk, glam, classic pop, and cabaret into something that’s been called – perhaps tonguein-cheek – ‘post-pop’. Two Dancers is not as unbridled in its enthusiasm as its predecessor, but is harnessed well

The Big Pink A Brief History of Love guitar lines are likely exactly what shoegazers hang out for, the vocals are thankfully not blanched into reverb oblivion, and the subject matter (i.e. love) do not represent standard shoegaze fodder. But, once you get past the hype, The Big Pink’s debut sounds far more like a cynical, half-baked rote exercise illuminated by the occasional bright spot.

It seems a truism that, within all types of music, the enthusiasts of that genre generally appreciate certain musical ploys. For example, a great hook is to pop as a suitably epic guitar solo is to rock & roll. So what of shoegaze? Do fans wet themselves over particularly detached vocals, or impressively loud guitar feedback? It can be hard to grasp the appeal of the genre. Wellconnected Londoners Milo Cordell and Robbie Furze have certainly talked up ‘A Brief History of Love’ as representing a departure from the indie rock norm. In some respects, it is. The meshing of blissed-out guitar drones and crystalline

The obvious touchstone for the Big Pink is another buzz-worthy London breakthrough act, the XX. However, where that album married 4am beats to carnal lyrics, producing a hugely satisfying – and original – album (about a specific type of love), the Big Pink don’t say anything new. Worse, they don’t seem to really try to. They seem complacent about their own derivativeness. There is so much filler on this album past the three singles; incomplete, turgid drones that don’t offend so much as bore. Which is so frustrating, considering the pre-release hype, and that the singles (‘Velvet’, ‘Too Young to Love’, and the album highlight ‘Dominos’) show there is talent there.

Actually, though these tracks still tend to commit the same egregious offences, they are elevated over the others by some signs of actual effort. It’s a risky game to play, sounding detached and bored on record. It can easily sound, well, boring. Had Furze and Cordell spent less time talking about ‘A Brief History of Love’, and more time instead making it a record worthy of being talked about then this review would be kinder. Particularly considering there is no small amount of talent and creativity here, it’s all the more galling that ‘A Brief History of Love’ seems to be an exercise in how cool its makers can be, with no appreciable payoff for the listener (past the excellent ‘Dominos’). I sense no real love of the music here – but a love of other people’s music.

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The Publican I

don’t want to start calling anyone’s character into question, but I think that we’d all probably live in a pub if we could. Or at least, that was my feeling until I talked to one of the guys at my local bottle shop – Dave – and learned that operating a pub is filled with unrelenting danger and you will almost certainly die. Oh, and the hours are long, you deal with dickheads on a daily basis, your wife will leave you, and the owners are money-hungry bastards who’ll undercut everything you do to serve their jealous, maniacal god – the poker machine. In spite of all this, Dave’s an exceptionally amiable guy, and seems to love being a publican. So, while making one of my regular excursions to purchase some delicious beer, I attempted to find out why: Start off by telling us how long you’ve been working in pubs? More than 25 years. It was really just a way to pick up girls. My mum ran the Bridgeway, and [started] there – after she left, because she wouldn’t let me work there. Unusual I guess, for a woman to have been running a pub 30 years ago Yeah, back in those days it was very much a male dominated thing, but my mum came out from Scotland, she was a very hard lady, wouldn’t take shit from anyone. At this point there is a call from outside. Hold on, I’ve gotta go outside. Spanker! I soon learn that ‘spanker’ is code for ‘attractive woman’. However, Dave returns unimpressed She comes in all the time. Is that one of the perks of working here, is it a way of picking up? Years ago, yeah. Years ago it was more or less left to you – if there were girls in the bar the boss told you “buy them a couple of drinks”. Girls attract guys, and guys

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spend a hell of a lot more money than what girls do. Have you moved around with your work? Sure. The only state in Australia I haven’t worked in is Tasmania. I’ve worked in six different countries overseas. The guy who used to run the Bridgeway took over a hotel in Alice Springs and asked me to come up there and run it for him. That was in 1983, and back in those days it was kind of unheard of to be moving from one state to another in the hotel business – everyone was pretty well stuck in their place, and the way they did things. What’s the pub clientele like? Is it pretty standard everywhere, or is it fairly location dependent? Very location specific. You go to the eastern suburbs and, instead of it being like, say, in the western suburbs here: “how ya goin’ mate”, on the other side of town it’s gotta be “how are you sir”. If you work up north then you go “how ya going, prick”. I worked out there – it’s hard work. You get some fairly rough customers then? Yeah, I’ve had my fair share of trouble. I’ve been stabbed, shot, had my left arm broken twice. Once by a baseball bat, one by a motorbike helmet. So how do you get involved in these kinds of altercations? Usually it’s just two blokes going for it, and years ago you had to jump in and break it up. Nowadays you just go ‘stuff it’, you just let it go, and if they’re still standing [afterwards] you ask them both to leave, because these days you’ve got a hell of a lot more power than you used to have. Before, it was like, jump in, try and stop it, and if you got hit then more or less you could go for it as much as you liked. When I first started in hotels it was very aggressive. Nowadays you just get straight on to the police, and the police come – or at least they’re meant to. But years ago it didn’t

matter what you’d say, you pretty much had to punch them out to get them out the door. How did you end up getting shot? I was at the Bridgeway Hotel working with one of my friends behind the bar. My friend was seeing some guy’s wife. The guy came in and started going off, so we gave him a bit of a touch-up and sent him on his way. Then he came back with a gun and started firing on us. Hit me in the leg. That was bad enough. I’ve been in a couple of pubs where they came in with shotguns and blew the place up. You’ve come from a background of managing pubs, whereas here you’re working in the drive-through and bottle-o. Is it a less hands-on role? It’s actually more hands-on. These days the manager’s role is very much a supervisor’s job, whereas in years gone by it was very hands-on. It wouldn’t matter where you worked, you knew every area. Nowadays, you’ve got people working in the games room or the bistro, and that’s all they do. In years gone by you knew how to change kegs, how to work in the bottle shop, the TAB. Nowadays you get people in one area, and that’s all they do. Is management something you’d like to get back into? [pauses] No… I’ve managed hotels everywhere I’ve worked. I’m not looking to get back into it. I’ve been asked since I’ve been working for this company, but I’m not interested. The time that they want you to put into running hotels nowadays is nowhere near worth it. You’re more or less tied to a hotel 15 or 16 hours a day, six days a week, so to give up that for working for ALH [the innocuously named Australian Leisure and Hospitality Group, which is a subsidiary of Woolworths] here in South Australia where you’re paid $55,000 a year – that isn’t worth giving up your life for. Even with your days off you’ll come through and you’ll end up having a beer with someone. Hotels are very hard work – it’s not a career, it’s your life.

I imagine that’d make it difficult to sustain a long term relationship I’ve been in three major relationships, two marriages. Most of them last five or six years. What happens is you meet someone in this environment, and they love it; love going out, catching up with people, going out for dinner, stuff like that. And then it’s like, “you weren’t home ‘til two o’clock in the morning” three years down the track, and it’s like, this is my job, this is what I do, and then it’s like “can’t you do something else”, and it’s like, you were happy when we bought the house. I don’t know anyone that’s started off a relationship working in a hotel that’s stayed together for longer than probably seven years. Is it hard to stay dry working in the industry? Impossible. I used to own a yoga studio before I came back to working in pubs, and even then I’d still have a couple of beers. You pretty well just don’t do that when you’re around yoga teachers. This side of things, it’s very hard to stay dry – when you finish work the first thing you think about is ‘fuck I could do with a beer’. You’ve been putting up with [dickheads] all evening, and it’s very hard after an 8-hour shift – even a 5-hour shift – to just go home and go to bed. No, you go home and you have couple of beers to unwind. I don’t know anyone in this industry who doesn’t drink. Indeed, so then what are your thoughts on Australia’s drinking culture? Well, I come from a Scottish background, and in my family you got taught how to drink, so you kept yourself in control, and you weren’t fucked up when you were out. That’s very much the Scottish and the Irish way of doing things. Or, if you get drunk and you’re going to fight, then you make sure you fight well. In Australia nowadays we’re becoming more European, and you can sit around and have a glass of wine and water as well. We’re not going out and getting pissed rotten as quick as we can like we used to, we’re more or less enjoying our booze.

But people still go out and get trashed. What do you think of things like the recently proposed alcopops tax, or other measures to address the problem? With the alcopops tax, it is targeting young people. But the problem’s been happening for generations and generations gone past. It’s more of an education thing as far as I’m concerned. When they put the price of alcopops up people just started buying bottles [of spirits] and pouring them into a big punchbowl, which is what we used to do when we were kids before alcopops came along. So it’s just gone around in a big circle – we haven’t learned anything. Young kids are going to try and get as drunk as they can, as quick as they can, and I don’t see any way around it except education. It doesn’t matter how much tax you put on something. It happens with everything, with cigarettes, whatever. People still do it because they enjoy doing it. Tax is completely the wrong way to go about it. Would you recommend becoming a publican to our nation’s best and brightest? Umm… No. Well, if you can get into a hotel where there’s a sole owner, and they’re willing to put their heart and soul into it - the owner as well as the manager – yes. But when it comes to these large companies that are running around at the moment, like Woolworths and things like that… I used to work for Woolworths, they’ve got 32 hotels here in Adelaide. When I went to chat to the state manager, he just said “Dave, just stick to what we normally do.” Which of course meant, “forget everything else, and worry about your pokies”. That’s all they care about.

Nowadays they’ve tightened up a lot on that, but we still give the punter far too much. The guy hitting the pokie room – they’ll feed him sandwiches, which you’re not meant to do. Coffees, drinks, everything. The bloke sitting in your front bar who’s been there for the last 15 years probably hasn’t even got a free beer out of it, whereas the first bloke in [the gaming room] gets a free meal. Pokies make them money, a lot of money, and they don’t have to put a great deal of effort in. So it’s the management structure of hotels these days that’s the biggest problem? Very much a problem. It’s about the bottom line, and the bottom line only. And they know how to get there, which is just to add pokies. Years gone by you would have busted your arse in the front bar to keep your patrons happy; your food section, you had to put entertainment on. Nowadays, you look at most of the pubs, and no one has any entertainment rooms, because they’ve just turned them into little pokie rooms. And if you go to the northern suburbs at the moment, there’s seven hotels run by ALH in an 8-kilometre radius. There’s [only] one front bar that functions well, that’s where they’ve pushed all the punters because they’ve set up a big sportsTAB. They’ve cut most of their food out – they don’t have a chef, they’ve just got a cook in there who does 5 to 6 meals. All so they can concentrate on the pokies. It’s a sad existence we’re going through at the moment. That’s where I take my hat off to hotels like the Grace Emily, where they survive on their customer service, and giving the people what they want.

You’re pretty anti-pokies then? Very. When I worked in Melbourne, I worked for a company that had 105 poker machines open 24 hours a day. I saw a guy lose his business, his house and his marriage in 3 months. Now they’ve tightened the laws, but back then we’d just keep feeding him Johnny Walker Black and make him sandwiches. You could do whatever you wanted to keep them there. The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

What’s on at the South Australian Museum: New biodiversity gallery showcases the complexities of life on Earth by Maureen Robinson

Science majors and museophiles will have a new place to geek out in the coming months when the South Australian Museum on North Terrace unveils its new 900-square metre biodiversity gallery in early 2010. The $4.64 million gallery, nearly 10 years in the making, emphasizes intrinsic adaptations and inter-relationships among the fauna of the South Australian outback and marine environments. This marks the first time that insects or and marine invertebrate have appeared at the museum. “We thought, we have to do something that looks at the ecology of this country and how it all works,” says David Kerr, member of the curatorial team responsible for the new gallery. “To tell the stories of restoration of the landscape, and the stories of the human impact on the landscape, and we decided it should just be mainly South Australia.” The new gallery boasts modern design elements, interactive features such as web kiosks, and a unique layout which spotlights various ecological zones. “We’ve got a linear gallery, so we developed a concept to take a transect through South Australia,” Kerr says. “You can go through the arid north, you can go through the temperate lands, you can go through the coastal lands or the deep ocean. Our collection and research expertise supported telling those stories— stories that tell you how the system works. Stories like camouflage and deception,

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reproduction and the need to breed, or how sea creatures feed; what extinctions there’s been and why; skeletons and how they work, both exoskeletons and endoskeletons, how venom works, and about parasites.” Kerr stresses that the gallery development was no easy task and involved a large, diverse group of professionals numbering close to 30. The team included a herpetologist, two marine biologists, an evolutionary biologist, an entomologist, and an education officer. Specific field experts were consulted for each storyline. The SA Museum hopes to attract a diverse range of age groups and interests and to convey the message that South Australia’s extraordinary biodiversity is worth learning about. “Hopefully the message is that this is worth preserving, and these are the things not to do, and these are the things to do to encourage a healthy environment. Why do you have butterflies in your garden and why would you want butterflies anyway? It’s not just for the beauty, but it’s also for maintaining biodiversity.” Organizers see the gallery as a key conduit in facilitating partnerships between the museum, the University of Adelaide, and the University of South Australia. Already, a number of academic papers have emerged as a result of collaborations with researchers that occurred during the research and development phases of the biodiversity gallery.

Although, as with most non-profit projects, money for the gallery came from both public and private sectors, the funding history is an interesting and perhaps controversial one . The South Australian government, a co-sponsor, originally hesitated to commit funds for the gallery unless the museum found a major sponsor. Eventually, mining giant BHP Billiton came on board with a $1 million donation—a curiosity to the skeptical reader, since BHP has come under tremendous scrutiny for their endangerment of Whyalla’s coastal biodiversity in cuttlefish habitats, which the company’s proposed Olympic Dam desalination plant aims to dump hypersaline water into. After the BHP endowment, the project picked up financial speed. While the opening date was originally slated for November 24, construction delays pushed the project back until, tentatively, mid-February 2010. While the curatorial team was aggrieved to extend the gallery opening, Kerr maintains that they were unwilling to permit a time crunch and compromise the quality of the exhibitions. Visitors can expect an intriguing and interactive experience on the part of the research and design team. ``Visually it will be very rich.” Information about this and other museum projects can be found at http://www. samuseum.sa.gov.au. Entrance to the museum is free.

Op Shop Interreview: A review AND an interview! by Lauren Lovett

Op Shop: St Paul’s Location: Brighton Road, Glenelg Interviewee: Matt Johnson of local band wintermild

am not one for multitasking, and the distraction of St Paul’s extreme mothball aroma isn’t helping. As wintermild’s bassist (sometimes ukelele-ist and banjo-ist) Matt Johnson has a penchant for the preloved, I attempt to ask him about his band whilst we second-hand shop. Stepping into St Paul’s, the task of performing an interview seems more difficult than first thought, as Matt appears more focussed on finding white elephants than talking about his band. Fortunately I am able to get in a few quick questions when he grows bored of the paperback that he’s just found. Surprising, considering he’s reading Kerri-Anne Kennerley’s Life Energy: A New Approach to Life, Love Work and Play. As he flicks through the shop’s deplorable record collection, Matt tells me that he and other band members, Simon Skrodal and Matt Staniford, draw influence from The Decemberists, Wilco, and similar bands of the indie ilk. When listening to the band’s music, the The Decemberists’ influence is clear. Simon’s vocals, in particular, have a comparable lilt to those of The Decemberists’ front man Colin Meloy. Although wintermild’s kitschy tunes are akin to many current acts, Simon’s Nordic accent and his ‘unique’ pronunciation of words set the band apart from others in the indie bunch.

As I sort through the shop’s mountain of nana-crocheted knee blankets, I ask Matt if wintermild’s music, like a knee blanket, is best enjoyed in a recliner with a hot cup of cocoa. Matt laughs and explains that, whilst wintermild’s music can be considered ‘easy listening’, he believes that the sound best compliments a beer at the beach. Disappointed by St Paul’s lack of seventies cowboy-esque clothing, Matt remarks he’d much rather browse St Mary’s Salvos or Brighton’s Vinnies. However, I’m not as completely let down by St Paul’s. The shop has a decent selection of retro bric-a-brac and onedollar belts. Matt’s disappointment soon turns to excitement when, whilst trying on a ladies sunhat, he spots a Sergeant Peppers-esque pilots jacket. I however, do not care as I am immersed in KerriAnne’s tips on how perfect the elusive art of ‘unbeatable smiling’. Oh Kerri-Anne, is there anything you don’t know? wintermild recently launched their EP ‘around this town’ in October.

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A GLAD SON A Yorkie article by SJ Fargher & DS Fewtrell The other day I was stumbling down some campus stairs and I saw a bird eating corn chips from an open bag on the ground. I watched for a second, charmed that the bird and I like corn chips, I considered how powerful a marketing medium it could be to train animals to do human things in the wild. Even birds want to participate in the consumer culture that made corn chips, put them in a bag which someone bought, ate 2 or 3 of and then discarded. As a result, that little bird feasted on corny calories in the sunshine. I think he liked it. I was perched unsteadily above the stairs this morning. I found myself jonesing for some chips or high salt food stuff to satisfy my early morning bird hangover. The morning was fresh and the crisp air ruffled my feathers. I shook my head to try and clear the sleep from my beak. I noticed a young Johnny-go-lightly fair skipping across the plaza looking freshfaced as any 1st year I’d seen. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he had pulled into Nazareth at half-past dead. Maybe he’d thrown wage-money down on pit fights between Pepe the King Prawn and Rivers Cuomo. Probably not. By the by, I spied with my small eyes a quarry about which I was very interested. A glint of silver wrapper and a red and yellow motif that suggested powdered cheese and crisped corn glory… “It ain’t easy being cheesy.” I tipped my weight off the edge of the bough and spread my wings outward 28

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swooping down and then pulled up short of the cold concrete. A bounty of eight triangles awaited. It was a culinary hit that I was going to mainline like it was ’83 – a year Petridge Farm would remember. I doubted it. Hours later I was chopping an onion in order to prepare burritos with my hombres and I thought of the bird. The more I thought of the bird, the more distorted he (I didn’t check, but I’m positive it was a boy-bird) became in my mind. At first I simply thought of him eating the corn chip, but in my mind I was sure that he looked as though he was enjoying it. Not having any facial expressions to speak of, I couldn’t say why I thought this, but the more I chopped, the more I thought about the bird. I was sure he narrowed his eyes at me in a subtly challenging and menacing way. I tried to shake the thought but it was useless. He was mocking me. The bird was wizened and grizzled and I knew bird-things I didn’t. Thinking of him brought my to mind indolent picnics with Aunt Martha in the hills. I came back to the onions and scraped them into the hot olive oil, watching them sizzle and jump. Keep fishing. The Bolivian corn powder now coursing through my gastric system had me lethargic and on edge at the same time. I tilted my beak and looked at the missing feathers and scars my body had endured. The kid came back into

my mind. He was probably called Rip or Twig (ha!). I wondered where he’d gone and what he had done that day. He seemed nice enough, but then nice doesn’t get you paid son. I guess that’s just the corn chip and the damage done. The Boy-bird came back to me later on while rinsing the dishes. I fondly imagined him being a dapper gent who shared his plentiful corn chips with other birds less fortunate. He clearly adored those corn chips. Unfortunately, in my recollection I couldn’t shake his mocking stare and the more misshapen his persona became. He had gained a safari suit, an ivory back scratcher, and lit cigars with cheques made out to charities with other people’s money. I was torn between envying the bird’s freedom and resenting his transient manner. My memories of the bird were tainted by my own obsessive repetition and idealised recollection of that morning. My rose-veiled glasses were cracking. I thought the boy did an awfully good impression of himself. Or maybe my bleak outlook impeded my judgement of him. He could just be a happy go lucky guy who has lived a wondrous and innocent life. But I guess ill never know. I mean I never will be able to know. All I have is a memory, a chance meeting, and a single impression. Such is the bullshit of nostalgia. For nostalgia is a primal essence that upon review appears as a corn chip fed dream to make the past blandness more flavoursome.

Waiting, watching.

short story by Catlin Langford

Face frozen on the television. Eyes glazed, expressionless. What was he thinking? What was he about to say? Nothing. Possibly. No one really does, anymore. At least, they don’t mean what they say. It means nothing. Everyone moves so fast. Fast paced lives of today. We don’t have enough time to think. Face frozen on television. 15 minutes of fame. Does that even apply anymore? Everyone is famous. Eyes glazed, expressionless. Bus loads of people, heads tilting in time to a silent beat. Where are they going? Plug in, tune out, rewind. We are electronic. People pass you in the street. Look you up and down. They have no right. Don’t stare. Staring out of windows, staring at our own reflection. It’s rude. Didn’t your mother tell you that? Eyes glazed, expressionless. What do they see? Do they see you? Face frozen on television. We see them, we hear them, yet they do not know. No one knows. Are they thinking of you now? Replaying each day within their minds? Sounds. Voices. Faces. Face frozen on television. We’ve moved on. Silence. Waiting. Everyone is waiting for something. Something more. We are waiting. Face frozen on television. Bang. Bang! Bang! There was once a crow. Black. Waiting, watching. They shot the crow. Black feathers scattered on the ground. Then they left. With their guns. Eyes glazed, expressionless. We collected the feathers. Placed them in our hair. One by one. We shall remember. Bang! Bang! Fist formed. Hit the box. Bang! Bang! Face frozen on television. Bang! Bang! Face moves. Tiny twitches. Blue eyes blink. Waiting, watching.

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I Wonder

Short Story by Victoria Christopher

I imagine that it felt like flying. For him, however, I imagine that it was the pace, the chase; the thrill. When did the mask of invincibility tighten around his conscious mind? Did he feel the power of his masculinity let loose? The sheer enjoyment took over. His adrenaline pulsated with every breath as the acceleration hit 70, 80, 90. Cool, calm and collected. He glided along the bitumen. Bright lights and buildings blurred as his foot grew closer to the floor. He glanced back, for reassurance that his fierce skill was admired by his passengers; his course altered. Call it: bad luck or stupidity. Either way, the telegraph pole yearned his number plate. I wonder what the expression looked like when his eyes returned to the road. The deafening screech forced all laughter to a halt, seconds took days. An orchestra of screams echoed their way to the front seat. His world now filled with: fear, shock and remorse. And, Consequences too severe for comprehension. Two lives now, irrevocably changed.

Raspberries & Violets

short story by Georgia PerryFisher

Raspberries are red, violets are blue. And I am: somewhere in between the two. Sometimes I am red. red lipstick with a name like scarlet rouge. Scarlett vixen who laughs and doesn’t care what anybody thinks. Sometimes I am blue. A blue sky. Blue like your lips, when you forget to wear a jacket in the winter. I sit alone and eat red cherries out of a brown paper bag. The girls laugh. my face turns red but inside, I am still, just like you, without your jacket, in the winter. I go shopping, for a new dress. I say: “I’m looking for something red” and the shop assistant says “are you sure? I think you would suit something blue” Walking home, I stop and stare at the stars. through the gaps of the buzzing powerlines, I see the moon. There is nothing lonelier than he. Billions of stars with one solitary outcast. I like to think that there is just one little star creeping towards the moon, trying to decipher the right language in which to say: hello. I run home. I sit down and i paint my fingernails purple.

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my grandma does crosswords short story by vivienne milk you are still seated, by yourself. more people get on the bus and choose not to sit next to you. i squint my eyes and turn my head in an attempt at a communal glare. no one reacts except for a small girl who shows me her tongue. it is extremely long, i am actually quite impressed. i return the gesture. the child laughs. i put my tongue back in its home: my mouth. i do this because i am worried that the child is laughing because i have an abnormality. no one has ever told me that i have an abnormal tongue but perhaps people who have seen my tongue before have just been too polite to say anything. the girl shows me her tongue again. i do not poke mine out. i do something else. i blow her a kiss. the child’s mother turns around. my lips are still pursed and pointed at the child. the mother holds her daughter tightly and pulls the little girl into her bosom. i assume that the mother is clutching her child because she thinks that i am a paedophile. i have never, that i know of, met a paedophile but i strongly doubt that they stand on buses, blowing air kisses. i look back at you. you are still sitting by yourself. i don’t want you to feel alone so i go to sit next to you. i also want to get away from the mother who is looking at me as though i am a kiddie fiddler. your shoelaces are undone. i think about whether i should offer to do them up for you. perhaps they are undone because you cannot bend down (to tie them up). or perhaps they are undone because you have arthritic fingers that are unable to hold small things, small things like shoelaces. i look down at your hands. i look down and realise that your hands are not arthritic. i also realise why, it is, that people on the bus have decided to stand.

you are using your fingers to touch yourself. out of shock i do not look away. i watch your fingers grab and scratch and dig at your tweed trousers, the crotch region of your tweed trousers. at first i feel as though i should be disgusted. but after a two more stops, my perception changes. my perception changes as i have created a little for and against list in my head. the for side equates to: seedy self- crotch-masseuse. and the against signifies: hallmark grandparent who watches game shows and finds twenty-cent coins behind their grandson’s ear annnnd just so happens to enjoy a (teensy) fondle. after only a few minutes of listing, the against list is a clear winner. the very fact that you are going at it on the outside of your pants shows that you know it is inappropriate, otherwise you would have one (if not both hands) down there.

i come to the conclusion that ‘the crotch touch’ must be what gets you through each day. my grandmother does crosswords. perhaps trouser touching is your crossword puzzle. something inside of me wants to take you by the arm, not the hand, and hold it supportively, empathetically. hold it and tell you that i understand. i want you to know that i understand what it is like to have to rely on something to get you through each day. the need for a reason to get out of bed in the morning even though, personally, i am yet to find my version of crosswords. i reach over and touch you, on the arm. you pull your arm away. and you call me a pervert.

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Not out of the woods yet, but early signs of bubble blowing Words by Jarrod Fitch The recent global financial crisis has reignited the engines of the Keynesian designed “debt trucks”. It seems that governments’ fiscal policies, post-New Deal, postNeoliberal deal, are back to where they started – dishing out public loot to push start the spluttering global economy, and in America’s case – bailing out failed corporations. In Australia, so far the trucks have been delivering, narrowly evading a technical recession. But after the stimulus packages have dried up and governments seek to reign in expenses, are we destined to relapse into an era of NeoNeoliberalism? In the wake of the GFC, the left has hinted at structural reforms, such as curbing high-end wages/bonuses and scaling back the breadth of US banking firms. So far the calls have gone largely unanswered. The current indignation felt by the far-left is similar to their criticism after Roosevelt’s New Deal measures, 32

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arguing that it let slip the opportunity to radically reform American capitalism. Many historians in fact acknowledge that the New Deal did not substantially alter the distribution of power within the US system. The right wants tighter government fiscal responsibility, such as curbing government spending and introducing tax cuts, a linchpin of recent conservative policy. In some ways, Neoliberal economic policies were successful. In the UK, inflation plummeted from 22 per cent at its height in 1979, to under 5 percent by the end of the 1980s. Similarly, the US dropped from 9 per cent inflation in 1980 to 5 per cent in 1988. But by the end of the 1980s, the UK saw its unemployment rate double (from 5% in 1980 to 10% in 1987, tapering off at 7% in 1990) and the US was entrenched in an increasing trade deficit, and perhaps counter-intuitively, unprecedented levels of foreign and national debt. The once creditor US became for the first time - the global debtor superpower.

Back to the recent crisis and our international bodies have been as equally inept at offering any structural reform solutions. The G20 meetings in mid 2009 spawned no real changes to banking sector regulation and economic structural reform. They, after all, reflect the economic interests of the nations that partake in them. Likewise, the IMF, not only failed to foresee the GFC, but has since, somewhat predictably, offered little advice to nations concerning economic reform. Save for a cataclysmic meltdown, it seems that for the moment at least, that the status quo will be maintained. ‘Free market’ capitalism will prevail, and we can resume our favourite pastime of blowing bubbles – crying when they burst, and yelling at each other as to the best way of dealing with the mess.

An Afternoon with Darren Words by Patrick McCabe Many students would be familiar with Darren. Darren spends a good portion of his day sitting on the lawn outside the museum on North Terrace, feeding the birds. Often the birds cover his body almost completely. I met Darren recently and decided to find out a bit more about him. Unsurprisingly we met on the lawns where Darren spends so much of his time. Darren was covered in birds for most of our discussion, although a number of pigeons were charitable enough to perch on me, the newcomer. Darren began feeding the birds one fateful day several years ago: “I would just feed them bread. I just came and sat down like I’m doing, put the bread in my hand and then they all just hopped on me … So then I started coming regularly”. Last year, Darren would do five to seven hour-long stints. This year has seen a reduction in his devotion, moving to three to four hour shifts. Darren is a Christian, and this is central to much of what he does. When asked why he devoted so much to feeding the North Terrace avian population, Darren replied, “I think we’ve all got different gifts, I’m a strong believer in God and I thank

him for the gift, because that’s how I do it, that’s him. You see God gives us all different gifts, so I might have the gift with this but then I might not have the gift with anything else-- we can have one gift or we can have many. But I just thank the Lord for it.” Darren does indeed seem to have a special affinity with the birds. He claims that, “I have even got to the stage where when they’re up on the building I can click my fingers and they will respond. Which is pretty amazing, because they’re wild birds.” As well as a way to use of his talent, Darren sees his birdfeeding as a way to be in touch with God. Darren sees all birds as equally worthy of his attention, whether it be a pigeon, a dove, or a swan. Most of all, Darren seems to be a man in constant wonder at the natural world around him. He seemed at his most enthusiastic when our discussion turned to his anecdotes of unusual encounters; “I used to feed the wild swans and they used to stay on me five to seven hours. There was one called Snowy. The swan was laying on me, and I was patting a duck at the same time. And another time I did it once, the swan was laying on me and I patted a pelican on his belly at the same time.

And I once patted a water rat but it wasn’t for long, because the swan went at him. But that was probably one of the most amazing things that I did, because water rats are just so aggressive, you can’t get near them, but he trusted me. Another time was at night and a swan laid on me for about a couple of hours . And that’s just so amazing”. Darren is on the pension, and has a small job vacuuming a church in Hectorville. This was a job he negotiated with his friend Fr Phillip, the priest at Hectorville, whose family he shares Christmas each year. Darren now has a partner and he is planning to marry her soon, with Fr Phillip as celebrant. So next time you’re walking along North Terrace, keep an eye out for Darren. There’s a good chance he’ll be there. Introduce yourself and have a chat – you won’t regret it. He’s a friendly, honest guy, always willing to give you his take on life.

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21st Century Prohibition

ds or W er sh Fi ill W by Smoking can best be described as the anti-Christ of our modern world, it’s the new (relatively) enemy of the machine that drives hate throughout our society. In the 40’s we hated the Fascists, in the 60’s we hated the Communist now in the 2000’s we hate the Cigarettists. But why? Why is so much money and time dedicated to ridding the world of the fabled ‘smoking stick’? Simply, as the many advocates for smoking cessation point out, it’s because smoking kills. But is that all there is to it?

school. I can’t turn on the television without seeing a lung being cut in half and having black-tar tipped over it seductively. In-fact the anti-smoking campaigns have got to a point now of media subversion, we’re so saturated with anti-smoking media the audience is starting to become null to it all. So what if poor five year old Jimmy doesn’t get to play football with his dad because Jimmy’s old man has smoked a pack a day for 30 years, that doesn’t mean anything to me, the everyday smoker.

Right now as I sit at my local haunt tapping incessantly away at my laptop I can look around and notice that at least fifty percent of my temporary neighbours for today are puffing away on their cigarettes, swallowing smoke as if it was going out of fashion. It’s a fair enough statement to make that almost all of us at one point or another, whether it be a part of our everyday ritual or a mere act of rebellion in our younger days have pursed our lips around the ‘butt’ of a cigarette. So why, if these cigarettes are so incessantly bad for us do we do it?

Anti-smoking is caught up in the mainstream, millions of dollars and thousands of people are employed to actively work against the so-called ‘death hobby’, but why? I have a freedom to do as I feel (legally of course), I have the right to choose how I live my life. Why should my taxes been poured into a campaign which runs directly against the actions I stand by – the simple answer is, it shouldn’t. Stop criminals robbing banks, stop paedophiles abusing children, stop people speeding, but don’t stop me from doing something that is legally acceptable.

Its all too easy to simply say smoking is bad for us, we know this, its been drummed into our psyche since high 34

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Putting aside the fact that our government is investing millions into

stopping my legally acceptable habit, what about the benefits of smoking. Despite what extremist say on the matter, smoking has its positives. In Australia something like a third of all adults smoke, think about that, no matter who your with, whether it be colleagues, acquaintances, university friends, or a complete stranger, there is a one-in-three chance that yourself and this person will have something in common. Can we safely say that a third of all people you know may like the same sports team as you? A third of all people enjoy the same alcoholic beverage as you? A third of all people have children going to the same school as yours? I think not. So right there, simply we have a social benefit of smoking. One might go as far to say that smoking is in-fact a social resource and tool, an activity that brings people together, the smoking is the ‘50’s church of today’- everybody goes along for the ride, but nobody is quite sure why. Even chemically there is a case to be made for smoking. Along with the other 4,799 chemicals cigarettes contain it also contains a beautiful chemical called nicotine. In-fact nicotine is the chemical that keeps us coming back

for more, it drives us to a level of dependency that sees the most dire of smokers contemplate picking up a half used cigarette off the ground, sparking that baby up and sucking it down till nothings lefts but the butt. What we forget is that when we feed our nicotine addiction we are feeding our body of something it’s starved of. Feeding our chemical in-balances relaxes our nerves and irradiancies, giving our body something it wants, whether it be naturally inclined or human inclined to want, surely can’t be considered a negative.

day can also hold the doctor at bay. News articles like this over and over again show us that not all smokers are going to die before their children’s high school graduation. The negatives of smoking and cigarettes can’t be disputed by anyone, whether you be a pack-a-day smoker or on the picket line campaigning for a society-wide smoking ban. Smoking is a leading cause of preventable deaths in the western world today. But would

I be wrong to say there were benefits to smoking? Socially, chemically and even medically there is evidence that smoking isn’t always the anti-Christ it is made out to be. Don’t get me wrong, if you read this article and then decide to go smoke perhaps you should Google natural selection and see if you qualify, but other than that, why hate on people who occasionally slip out the back for a quick smoke.

Albeit for me to say, but even a quick Google search highlighted some of the proven medical studies into the positives of smoking. Ronni Wolf MD, Danny Wolf MD and Vincenzo Ruocco MD in their study into The benefits of smoking in skin disease (1998) make the statement ‘several epidemiological studies currently indicate that nicotine may have a beneficial protective effect on aphthous ulcers’. Despite still claiming smoking as one of the leading health concerns for the western world, they do highlight that there are instances where smokers are less inclined to be susceptible to certain oral ulcers. While these medical studies by no means condone smoking as beneficial to health, ask yourself if you see any multi-million dollar advertising campaigns highlighting this? In our hyper-excessive fashion and culture absorbed society it’s important as ever to preach the fashion benefits of smoking. Cigarettes are the perfect accessory to any new season trend (the one exception probably being the hospital robe). Cigarettes are like the backwards cap of the 90’s, the Mohawk of the 70’s and the hipster thick black glasses rims of the 2000’s. Brad Pitt smokes, Barack Obama smokes, even Ellen Degeneres has had a run in or two with the cigarette, if society tells us anything it’s that smoking is associated with the wealthy and powerful, the famous and beautiful and lets face it, the down right cool. And what about Winnie Langley from South London who lit up a cigarette on her 100th birthday off her own cake candle, if smoking kills it’s taken a longtime to ‘clip’ old Winnie. The news is plagued with stories like this, the elixir of life being attributed to a cigarette a day. If an apple a day keeps the doctor away, surely a cigarette a The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

Ditlicious A

Coyboys and Injuns, by Lily Hirsh

couple of editions ago I foolishly submitted a strange sounding recipe without trying it out, hoping perhaps for some reader guinea-pigs. Two weeks ago I had the good fortune to be driving down Old Norton Summit road with a Danish friend and I spied a prickly pear plant. Thinking I could introduce him to something new and exciting, I cooked it for him and in the process managed to get hundreds of little prickles in my fingers and also ended up with a dish that tasted like burnt salt and which had the consistency of solidified yet gooey jelly. My advice: don’t bother. But… the Somalian bread that was in the Pirate edition, I would strongly recommend, perhaps add some chopped onion to it too. Anyway, what we are really here to talk about today is the good old days when men with guns could get away with killing off those with less advanced weaponry… without having to go to Iraq. Yes, the times of the Cowboys and Indians.

When they weren’t off with feathers in their heads, trying to take their land back, the Native Americans were quite the culinary masters, trying their hand at all sorts of tasty treats such as moose and racoon. Whilst Chief Bear Rib and Red Cloud were off hunting or defending themselves from the beanridden Yanks, Morning Sun and Princess Flower Sky might be cooking up a bit of a poultice for when the blokes returned. Some included: Echinacea for toothache and insect bites, juniper tea to relieve stomach aches, hops blossom as a sedative and sage to clean their teeth with and to heal sores. Beans and The Bible are two favourites that come out of Texas, so if you combine the two, you naturally get something pretty special, and incidentally, the only bible I want to refer to (thank you Cheryl for your kind words in the last edition, but I’m quite happy to follow the faith of bean-ism). For some inspiring recipes, go to www.beanbible.com do it. The Bean God commands you. For weekly meeting and annoying posters, go to… It is surprising that the Indians weren’t wiped out by the sheer smell of Tex Ritter and co. who so profusely ate beans, without bothering to do a simple wiki search and find out how to prevent any noxious elements that may result. For you more delicate-nosed people, here is how: add asafoetida to meals when you cook lentils, beans or cauliflower (you can buy this at Indian shops). Cumin, coriander, caraway, turmeric, yoghurt and kombu kelp (a Japanese seaweed) have also been noted to reduce the effects. Also if you are cooking your beans, soak them for a few hours Arizona Cowpoke Barbecue and then boil them for a while and drain. The water-soluble oligosaccharide in the Sauce beans will leach out into the water rather than into you.

• • • • • • • • •

1/4 cup brown sugar, firmly packed 1/4 cup vegetable oil 2 teaspoons salt 1 teaspoon garlic powder 1 cup vinegar 3/4 cup lemon juice 2 cups water 5 drops Worcestershire sauce 1 dash Tabasco sauce

Remember to drain the beans!

Dr Pepper Baked Beans Ok, so this isn’t really cowboy- but it looked interesting. I’ve seen recipes were you cook chicken in beer and coke, so why not beans in Dr Pepper?! 6 servings: • 2 tins of pork and beans (or plain baked beans) • 1 onion, finely chopped • 1 green capsicum, finely chopped • 1 tomato, finely chopped • 1/2 cup dark brown sugar • 1/3 cup Dr Pepper (you can get it from the English lolly shop in town) • 1/8 teaspoon ground cloves Preheat oven to 170C. Drain liquid from the pork and beans. Pour into a baking dish if you don’t. Stir in onion, capsicum, and tomato. Combine sugar, Dr Pepper, and cloves until the sugar has dissolved. Pour evenly over the bean mixture. Bake, covered, for one hour. Check on the beans; they might need a little more time than that, but don’t overcook them. You could successfully substitute ginger ale for the Dr Pepper for a different flavour.

Mix in a saucepan; bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer 10 minutes.

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A tip from Christian: You can cook potatoes in the microwave for a quick stuffed potato meal. Just remember to prick the potato with a fork first, and put a small dish of water in with it. Otherwise you will be cleaning bits of potato off your microwave for weeks.

Indians,BlanketsandVirology ByLaurenWatkins S

mallpox is pretty awesome, as far as diseases go. It has multiple claims to fame: it was used to pioneer immunisation; it was used as the first act of biological warfare; and smallpox is the only disease to be entirely removed from the human population. Suck on that, swine ‘flu. Smallpox is rad!

Smallpox is a member of the Poxviridae family, coming in two varieties, Variola major and V. minor. V. Major presents with stronger symptoms and is fatal in 30-35% of cases, while V. Minor, known also as cowpox, is only fatal in 1% of cases. Smallpox presents with badass fluid-filled blisters on the skin, which often lead to scarring. The common name ‘smallpox’ was used to differentiate the disease from the ‘great’ pox of the 1400’s, syphilis (minds out of the gutter please, kids. They were differentiating on size). It was actually cowpox that was used by Edward Jenner in 1796 to pioneer a vaccine for the more deadly smallpox; the two strains are similar enough for one to provide immunity for the other. Jenner noticed that people contracting cowpox did not later contract smallpox, and that symptoms of cowpox were considerably milder. He took pus from a sore on the hand of a milkmaid and used it to inoculate a young boy. The poor kid showed a slight fever, but no real illness. On two later occasions the boy was deliberately infected with smallpox virus, and presented no symptoms. Ah, the days before experimental ethics. From pus, a vaccine was born.

There are a few things that make smallpox perfect for eradication from the human population. Thanks to Jenner, it has an effective vaccine, which goes a long way. It also is a human-only virus, which means it can’t reappear from animal hosts. A virus like seasonal ‘flu has less effective vaccines, and is carried by animals such as birds, horses and pigs - ‘flu likes the barnyard - so we’re never going to get rid of it. Finally, it’s really easy to tell when someone’s infected with smallpox. Those blisters are a dead giveaway that something weird is afoot, and detection of infected individuals is pretty important in wiping the little bugger out. Smallpox was officially declared eradicated in 1980, though samples are still held in labs around the world. These stocks have the potential to be used in biological warfare, which brings me to the good parts. When Europeans began colonising the Americas, they introduced new diseases. This meant Native Americans were exposed to pathogens like smallpox. There was no pre-existing immunity in the native population for these diseases, so upon coming into contact with the Europeans they suffered greatly. Many Native Americans were killed unintentionally through contracting smallpox. However, their vulnerability was rumoured to have been intentionally exploited by British forces at the Siege of Fort Pitt in 1763.

A rebellion was staged by Native Americans against British soldiers and settlers in the Great Lakes region in 1763. Colonists retreated to the safety of Fort Pitt following initial hostilities, but the Fort too was soon attacked. Some of the people sheltering there were ill with smallpox, giving General Jeffrey Amherst the ‘bright’ idea of infecting the Native Americans to whittle their numbers. Contaminated blankets (and a handkerchief) were given to the natives, in the hope of transferring the illness. Smallpox soon appeared in the local native populations, and British plans for this introductory foray into biological warfare are well documented. However, smallpox was prevalent in nearby regions before the incident, so the results cannot be traced for certain to the contaminated blankets. Controversy surrounds this inglorious piece of history. Though the intention to carry out such an attack is well documented, proving that such an occurrence was (the British definition of) ‘successful’ is more difficult. Smallpox has done a lot for humans though - Jenner’s work is widely regarded as founding the science of immunology, and eradication of smallpox has lead to similar efforts being directed towards Polio. Oh smallpox, how I love you.

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Mass Produced Nostalgia Selling our childhood By Susannah Bailey

n our crazy modern world one can hardly leave the house without being bombarded by as many different kinds of advertising as there are ill-fitting metallic leggings in Supre. Whether in the form of billboards, radio spots or magazine ads, every aspect of our culture is influenced by advertising. In recent years, some of the newest forms that have gained popularity are nostalgic t-shirts and accessories. Once an ironic rejection of consumerism, it’s now a global trend reaching saturation point. We’ve all seen it and even felt it ourselves, how no-one is complete without retro gamethemed jewellery and vintage cartoon character t-shirts. Executives must have cried with happiness when T-shirts, hoodies, jewellery, and probably wheelbarrows, depicting long obsolete icons were dug out of cupboards into circulation again. The toys, games, tv shows and comic books we worshipped as kids were suddenly cool again, and those without the good sense to obsessively hoard things now had to hunt down these elusive social markers. Those who failed at ebay were soon in luck, as the stores caught on and began selling affordable and notso-affordable imitations. You can now buy Rainbow Brite and Space Invaders t-shirts from Jay Jays and Pac Man necklaces from Diva, such is their abundance. Perhaps one of the factors influencing this resurgence has been our fear of impending adulthood, and the uneasiness many of us feel as we approach responsibility, careers, and a bright, boring future. In order to avoid the grim reality of entering a workforce in the thralls of the global financial crisis, we look back to when times were simpler. When multicoloured plastic bricks provided hours of enjoyment; when a man made of eight pixels could be badass; and when sharing your Pop Rocks made you the coolest kid in the playground.

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Marketing and advertising has gained so much momentum in the last few decades that our generation is conflictingly more susceptible, and more immune to its effects. This partial immunity had meant that advertising companies have had to intensify their efforts, making us even more cynical and jaded. So we try our best to reject it, yet we still end up as the highest consuming generation of all time. As young adults have potentially the largest percentage of spending power in comparison to their income, the youth market is an extremely lucrative one, worth billions of dollars over the world. And since our attention spans have been proven to be shorter than ever , Just as our cynicism to reaches record highs, advertising has had to become very clever to compensate. The ability to sell a product developed decades ago, essentially unchanged, appealling to us on such a level that it bypasses our ingrained skepticism is such a good opportunity that it would be stupid not to pursue. So a fashion trend that started as a reaction to advertising and new products has once again been taken up by the very people it was protesting against. Perhaps this is in itself a cynical view. Perhaps by using irony as armour we have retaken these childhood symbols. By appropriating them as a fashion and social statement we have immortalized them, as Andy Warhol immortalised coke bottles and soup cans by turning them into art. With the image being more important and more ubiquitous than the product itself, we have come to a point where the influence of street fashion developed by the consumer has more power and influence than the multinationals. And that can’t be all bad. At the end of the day, however distrustful as we are of the corporate machine, I think we’ll always trust Pac Man. Whatever crimes are committed in his name, we know the trend will pass and he and all his friends will be ours again. Even though they might sit in garage boxes for years to come, one day we will dig them out and remember all the fun we had together.

As time goes by... by Kate Bird

rocs, cornrows, Guess handbags, tramp stamps, leggings worn as pants, chubby emo children squeezed into skinny legs, orange faces and dudes in board shorts and loafer combos... these aesthetic abominations can make us yearn for the past, dreaming of flirty 50s silhouettes and the understated elegance of Audrey Hepburn, Princess Grace and Natalie Wood. While fashions from the days of yore certainly were innovative and gorgeous, things weren’t perfect in the past - the decades we adore for their revolutionary, iconic styles and fashion pioneering also spawned some of the worst fashion trends...

1960s – Typically when it comes to 60s fashion we affectionately recall bright, fabulous colours, long, flowered-entwined hair, mod fashion, Twiggy, Edie, and the popularisation of blue jeans and miniskirts. However, this was not what the majority of society was wearing, and the 60s also brought us stretch slacks, bland shift dresses in a variety of pastels, and pillbox hats. Actually, I like pillbox hats.

1920s – Insanely gigantic, square shoulders coupled with painfully tiny, cinched waists (Ouch!).

1980s – Too much, too fast. Power suits (not to mention massive shoulder pads), acid wash jeans, glitter mousse, lace gloves, huge hair, leg warmers, ripped sweatshirts and ensembles constructed from layers upon layers of lycra, mesh, tulle and various neon fabrics. Despite the fact that I actually love everything just mentioned, there’s just no defending the shapeless dresses, mullets or parachute pants - not to mention those high-rise V-shaped bikinis/leotards that dominate films and music videos of the decade.

1930-40s – Forget Jean Harlow and adorable butterfly sleeves, gloves and hairnets. Short, tight perms and cloche hats reigned supreme in the 30s and early 40s, and, goddamn did that look ugly on 99% of everyone. 1950s - The one bad thing I could think to drag up about the 50s, fashion wise, was pedal pushers (originally ‘petal’ pushers). They’re hideous. They’re unflattering. Even the pictured model looks dumpy wearing them. When a model looks fat in what she’s paid to be wearing, there’s a problem.

1970s – Brown. The Osmonds. Paisley... including paisley jumpsuits. Tracksuits. Brown. Corduroy. Safari suits. Mood rings. Brown. Way too much denim. Brown everywhere!

Thanks, eighties.

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Thongs (Not G-Strings)

Whatever you choose to call this basicallystyled footwear, they were once called Jandals, based on the idea of the Japanese sandal. Their origins lie in New Zealand in the 1950s. They were worn by the Australian Olympic team in 1956 and were manufactured in Australia in1960. The Brazilian brand of Havaianas became popular in 1998 after the company developed a style for the world cup which incorporated the Brazilian flag. Thongs, flip flops, Havaianas they are great for the beach and practically a necessity in Australian beach culture.

Sneakers

Some claim the famous Converse All Stars was the first sneaker, in 1917. Others believe that sneakers were produced by small companies that manufactured bicycle tires before Converse. Either way, they became popular in the United States after World War I, when athleticism became a part of United States’ national identity. Nowadays, we couldn’t imagine doing any kind of sport without them.

Top Twentieth Fashion by Elise Lopez

The Little Black Dress

In 1926 Gabrielle ‘Coco’ Chanel published a picture of a short, simple black dress in Vogue.It was calf-length, straight, and decorated only by a few diagonal lines. Vogue called it “Chanel’s Ford”, because like the Model T, the Little Black Dress (LBD) was simple and accessible for women of all social classes. Vogue also said that the LBD would become “a sort of uniform for all women of taste.” This versatile dress has become a fashion staple, as the simplicity of the style works for so many occasions.

Bikini Jeans

Initially worn by sailors and factory workers, the twentieth century turned denim jeans into fashion, from a symbol of rebellion in the 1950s to hippy fashions and punk styles. From flares to skinny jeans, straight leg to boot leg, modern jeans are so versatile, they can be worn with in so many ways for almost any social occasion. Pointless fact: In Spain they are known as ‘vaqueros’, meaning ‘cowboys’; in Danish, ‘cowboybukser’, and Chinese, ‘niuzaiku’, literally translate as ‘cowboy pants’; the Hungarian name for jeans is ‘farmernadrág’, ‘farmer-trousers’. 40

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The modern bikini was invented in Paris in 1946 by French engineer Louis Réard and fashion designer Jacques Heim. Réard was running his mother’s lingerie boutique near Les Folies Bergères in Paris, while Heim was working on a new two-piece bathing suit, with the bottom large enough to cover its wearer’s navel. In May 1946, it was advertised it as the world’s “smallest bathing suit”. Réard named the swimsuit the ‘bikini’, after the Bikini Atoll, a South Pacific island where testing on the atomic bomb was occurring that summer. Historians assume Réard termed his swimsuit the ‘bikini’ because he believed its revealing style would create reactions among people similar to those created by America’s atomic bombs in Japan one summer earlier.

Sunglasses

The Roman Emperor Nero would watch gladiator fights through emeralds, to avoid the sun getting in his eyes. Although it is likely that similar methods were used in other time periods, little evidence exists for this until twelfth century China, when the Chinese used quartz lenses with frames. In 1929 Sam Foster began mass production of sunglasses in the United States and in 1936 Polaroid lenses were invented to protect against UV rays. There have been few changes since, except for varying trends in style over the decades. To this day, sunglasses remain good for the eyes - and stylish!

From Corsets to Bras

The term ‘brassiere’ first appeared in an American copy of Vogue. The first bra to be patented was in 1914 by Mary Phelps-Jacobs, created by tying two silk handkerchiefs together with some ribbon. Bras have come a long way, in materials like lace, chiffon and cotton, and in styles such as the balconette, strapless, backless, half-cup, fullcup, cupless (for strippers), t-shirt, maternity, push up, minimiser, padded, seamless, underwire, sports bra, not to forget the Wonderbra - the list goes on.

Ten Century Treasures The twentieth century was a goldmine of fashion treasures. Being born in the second half of it makes it hard for us to comprehend just how much fashion has changed.

Hoodies

Practical and oh, so comfortable, the modern hoodie was created by Champion in the 1930s for factory workers, but became popular in the 1970s due to the emergence of hip-hop culture, high fashion and the popularity of the film Rocky. Chavs, skateboarders and surfers have kept the hoodie alive and it just keeps on coming back into fashion.

Many things that we now consider to be fashion staples were only invented quite recently, so here is my top ten modern fashion developments.

Pencil Skirt

Stilettos

For fashion or for fetish, stiletto heels have got it all. There is something about shoes that are near impossible to walk in that attracts us crazy women. They make us taller, our legs are more slender and they add a certain degree of ‘saucy minx’ to our demeanor. Andre Perugia, the first documented designer of the heels, and Manolo Blahnik, responsible for reviving the stiletto in the 1970s, were the predominant forces behind the rise of the stiletto heel. Stilettos have always been fabulous for that femme fatale image.

The pencil skirt falls at or just below the knee. It originated from the much longer ‘hobble’ skirt, which was similar in design, but extremely difficult to walk in. The pencil skirt was promoted by Christian Dior in the 1940s. Some speculate that it became popular due to limitations from fabric rations during the depression. A similar version, called the ‘wiggle’ skirt is associated with 1950s rockabilly fashion, while the original pencil skirt made a comeback in the 1980s with the power suit. These classy skirts remain popular today, particularly in the office.

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Jolly Good Sport with Angus Chisolm

A Right Old Waste of Time T

he AFL’s top eight is a right old waste of time. Positions five to eight are superfluous because the gap between them and the top four by September is marked, and the impact they make on the finals is minimal. Let’s face it, by round ten we have a pretty clear picture of the teams that will be contesting the grand final. The problem is that it’s too predictable. It runs true to form once a season is underway and there’s very little room for shock results and massive upsets. This is why (timedelayed prediction time again) ‘September 4 Deadline Angus’ would have been very surprised if the Crows went on to make any significant impact on the finals. I don’t think we should scrap the finals format as it stands. It would be nigh on impossible for one thing– it’s difficult to change the culture of a sport, and it could potentially ruin the (misappropriated marketing nonsense of the) ‘One Day in September’ mythology. But some shakeups wouldn’t go astray, because a lot of casual fans can lose interest quickly once their team is out of the running.

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At the top of the ladder, I’ve always thought the way the competition favours a team that wins three or four cup games is grossly unfair. What better guage of ability and excellence than the team who wins the most games over a long season? Sure, you might say, if AFL’s as predictable as you say it is then surely the logical conclusion is that the best team will win the finals. Perhaps, but that means either the finals themselves are a superfluous exercise, or it engages in the arbitrary and cruel practice of undermining a teams work over the season in the course of one match against a team that is inferior but has the luck on the day. I find neither outcome especially satisfactory, unless of course it’s my team doing the winning. Placing a greater emphasis on the league winner is a good idea, and the way to do this is offer more prize money. An incentive will get the clubs interested and instantly lend an air of genuine competitiveness and credibility to proceedings. Take the preseason competition, which on one hand is interesting because it involves all sixteen teams in a straight knockout. Without a form book to go on, some interesting results are thrown up.

On the other hand it’s a pre-season fitness exercise and nobody gives a shit. Add money as an incentive to win and I think it would become interesting. Another way to do it might be to intersperse the first half of the home and away season with cup matches. Maybe even give lower division teams the chance to get involved a la the FA Cup. Sure it’d be different, but I would find it compelling and I doubt I’d be alone. Perhaps there could be a cup competition where the clubs only field Under-25 players to showcase their younger talent. It may seem like I have sketchy answers to a question that nobody asked, but I wrote earlier this year that AFL is becoming defensive. One notices this rhetoric about ‘our game’ where they try ‘big-up’ the sport as much as possible during television analysis. The strengths of the sport are self-evident, but the competition itself? I’m not so sure. Going forward, if they want the sport to be as strong as possible in the increasingly competitive Australian market, then they need to get a bit creative.

It is clear that Mayor Greiner is not at all happy about the attention that the council is under and I suspect that if she had a choice the Burnside council would be meeting in private. Resigned and then “oops that’s a mistake” CEO of Burnside council Neil Jacobs spent the meeting I attended on the 18th glaring at residents in the gallery and Councillor Jacobson. I have the feeling Mr. Jacobs has the Burnside police station on speed dial after he has called them to evict vocal residents who have refused to leave closed meetings on two separate occasions.

A council under investigation, a proposal for a beautiful heritage listed building ripped asunder and a community that looked ready to roll some cars in Parisian mob style. Of course I am talking about the Burnside Council and the fight over the Chelsea Cinema. The Chelsea cinema, currently owned by the Burnside Council but run by the Wallis group has been struggling to create an acceptable level of profit for the council which has been discussing the sale of one of the two last art deco cinema’s in Adelaide since 2000. Community support has been strong for the cinema to remain in community hands as it is often said that the Chelsea, under the administration of the Wallis group, is a corner stone of the community. The Wallis group has often been a great avenue for fundraising for community groups by running discounted screenings of movies with profits going into the organisation. Money raised by community organisations who hold events at the Chelsea outstrips the funding provided by the council Burnside Councillor Mr. Jim Jacobson pointed out at the council meeting on August the 18th. There has been some debate as to wether it is in the best financial interests of the council to keep the Chelsea or to slice it up, the fact remains that the Chelsea is contributing massively to community groups and activities. The promotion of an active and vibrant community is one of the goals of the Burnside council, to seel the Chelsea would make this a harder objective to achieve. One of the community’s biggest complaints beyond the idea of the sale itself is of the Burnside council’s handling of the proposal. A lack of community meetings and the fact that the council is under investigation from the state government for bullying tactics, leaking documents and being coerced by members outside of the council. Having personally attended the council meeting on the 18th of August I saw condescending remarks from the chair, the floor and from the gallery where members of the public appeared to be blatantly fed up with the rude remarks and constant sniping of different councillors produced home made signs of protest and did not mind ensure their voices were heard during the meeting.

a council under investigation Words by Justin Kentish

So with the council voting down a motion to postpone the sale of the Chelsea until February it appears that despite being under investigation for harassment, leaking confidential documents, being under excessive amounts of outside pressure and being the first local council in 19 years to be under investigation by the state government, the council thinks it should be able to continue without hindrance. Councillors Joanne Howard, David Lincoln, Peter Pavan, Julian Carbone and Robert Patterson had their election campaigns funded by former brothel owner and now powerful property developer, Rick Powers. Mr. Powers strongly opposes the way much of the Burnside is being awarded heritage status that inhibits the development of Burnside. The current voting record of these councillors seems to show that Mr. Powers may have taken in interest in Chelsea. The problem has expanded to the point where local councils minister, Gail Gago has instructed Auditor-General Ken MacPherson to investigate the influence of Rick Power. The fate of the Chelsea cinema now seems to rest in the hands of a council that appears to be at best, shady or at worst corrupt. I doubt that without the support of residents and people who care about the Chelsea and all the benefits it brings the Chelsea would have been on the block and carved up for whoever wanted it. If a council that can act like this infuriates you, or even if you just despise your local megaplex, join “The Save the Chelsea Cinema” Facebook group, people who want to assist in any way should get in touch with Andrew Reilly, who is the spokesperson for the group. The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

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

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

remember those first few weeks… alright months… after becoming ‘of age’ when I overdosed on the going out… okay perhaps I still go out every week (research!) but reminiscing on those first few times still makes me smile. So naive… I rated PJ’s (cringe). It’s only been a few years, but I feel ‘old’. This may seem ridiculous coming from a 20 and a half year-old (an important half), but honestly when I go out now I see all these faces that look like cabbage patch dolls with longer legs… and I’m not sure about you, but I don’t go out to baby sit… What has happened to all the people aged between say 21-27… In particular, men? Is there a big black hole that sucks these ones in and spits them out after a destructive relationship, one child and a receder? I feel this is true.

Sangria bar on Gouger – Quirky is how I’d describe this place. Packed to the rafters with your after dinner crowd on a Saturday evening, the atmosphere is as good as the enormous fish hanging on the back wall… not going anywhere very fast.

As a single lady, I don’t want to meet boys that look like they have a pair of Huggies underneath their pants. On the other end of the scale, us singletons do not wish to associate with men whose beer bellies double as an umbrella in bad weather (although would have been extremely helpful in recent downpours). Where does one go in Radelaide to meet these folk? No I’m serious this is an interactive question… I have no idea, and I’m pretty sure there is a large number of others who feel the same way. Don’t get me wrong this is not saying that I’m a desperado who goes out to find a relationship. I just want pretty things to look at whilst I’m sipping on my Vodka and Cranberry. And pretty things one doesn’t see every week… please? Okay, I have had my rant, and if per-say you could let me/the rest of the female population in on the secret. Write it. Write now. Anyway, in the interests of delivering the Ondit’ posse some useful information, I suppose I should let you in on what’s happening in the A-town of late.

ife l t h algia g i N st No y sle n i by a bell p cam

Seeing as the place was named Sangria, thought it best to give theirs a go. Very disappointing. More like cheap red wine and a mix of fruit juice with your odd apple piece thrown in for good measure. Elysium Lounge on Hindley – Hangover was amazing. This little cocktail bar is funky. Next to Supermild on Hindley it’s a cool place to have a few fancy drinks before you head somewhere else. There are plenty of couches to sip your beverage on, and there should be something for everyone as they boast over 70 specialty cocktails! Good times. Red Square on Hindley – I’m not sure if this has caught anyone by surprise, but people used to avoid Red Square… Now the line could give the Nile a run for its money in length. Anyhow, the DJ’s are cool, the people like to chew their bottom lips off, but if that’s what you’re into, get involved. The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

Pre-Colonial Nostalgic. I

often wonder if I’d sacrifice my life-span to live in a time and place where all I had to worry about was food and shelter. Of course, I could do that now. I’m sure there are places in Australia where the climate isn’t too hostile, where land is abundant and unclaimed. Where I could chop down some trees to make a clearing, build myself a simple cabin from the felled wood, and plant a veggie patch. Maybe I could make a quill and some ink from the earth and write random lines of poetry and prose, and play some tunes on my home made guitar. They would be some good times, although I would of course be forgoing any technologically advanced medical care should I need it. There is that chance that I might live a few years less, or maybe I would become robustly healthy, hiking through my country, working in my garden and eating my pesticide free, genetically unmodified veggies. I’d probably live longer than I will stuck in the consuming cage that I’m in now. It’s an amazing concept; actually being free of everything that binds me in an industrial, stressful world. I just don’t think I’d miss anything. I remember holding out on getting a mobile phone for years, after everyone around me had one. In the end it became cheaper than having a house phone, so I bit the bullet. But my life was fine before it, and it would be fine if I got rid of it now. It’s the same with facebook, life was fine prior to it, and now it’s cluttered with people telling me what time they went to bed last night, or that they hate broccoli. Cause I really needed to know. I don’t even really know what Twitter is, nor do I want to find out. I just don’t need another stupid device in my life to enable me to be connected to the bored consumers around me. My point is that all of the things that we seem to not be able to live without only add clutter to our lives, and we managed just fine without them before they existed. But this isn’t just an essay about simpler times pre mobile phones (which, despite the amazement of members of a tutorial of mine, wasn’t like, as bad as it like, seems, like, oh my god... like). This essay is about a different life. I often ask people if they think that we, or the generations before us, have gotten it right.

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

Are we living the way that humans are supposed to be living? Does the fact that the Europeans thought that progress and industrialisation was the ideal make it right? Who is to say that the colonisers that decided to turn the Adelaide Plains into a city got it right? Would the Kaurna people think that, or any indigenous Australians? Would any displaced indigenous population around the globe think that? Yes we the rich Westerners can pride ourselves on our advancement, our apparent greater quality of life and all of those things that make us feel just, but who were our European ancestors to displace what was? European advancement was and is exactly what it sounds like. It exists to further the lot of the European, and little has changed. One needs only some brief research on the matter to see that the quality of life that the Australian nation so proudly boasts exists primarily for its nonindigenous inhabitants. Of course, most of you are no stranger to this topic, its sub-genres are discussed in course after course; imperialism, colonialism, de-colonisation, postcolonialism, justice, human rights and law. What no-one ever seems to talk about though is the idea that we’re heading in the wrong direction. Certainly indigenous cultures did not always live in harmony, but to say that under the industrialised model we are doing any better is absurd. The amount of death from wars in the last 100 years is mind boggling, we’re altering the climate of the planet, and in our abundance of wealth we still allow half of the worlds population to live in poverty. Not only that, but the apparent purpose of our humanity is to sell the majority of our lives for things that we can buy. Personally I would sacrifice some of that medically prolonged life to live my entire life as a free man. So you may not see me in On Dit next year, or around campus. I may have packed me a swag, and strolled off heading north, maybe north-east so I don’t hit desert. Let’s see ‘the man’ try and get HECS payments out of me then!!

Greg Taylor The Anti-Consumer

Nostalgia is a guilty pleasure. I

don’t like guilt. It is not a nice feeling so I go out of my way to avoid things that make me feel guilty. Some of the steps I take include studying for exams, recycling my lemonade cans and not being catholic. Despite guilt been a generally bad experience, there seem certain groups in the mish-mash of the Australian populous that seem predisposed to foist it upon us, nearly as if they take pleasure from it. One such group are those rather repetitive people who are nostalgic for a time which truly never existed. Ten points for those who pinned the tail on the donkey and guessed I’m talking about Indigenous Australians and the less realistic of their sympathizers. I use such a wordy description, because I am a sympathizer to the plight of our Aboriginal people, but I’m also realistic. When people tell me that Indigenous Australians lived in peace and harmony with the land, had long healthy lives and generally spent their time in a blissed out hippy state called the “Dreaming,” I really wish I had a time machine to show the nostalgic just what life was actually like for primitive cultures. In the context of pre-enforced industrialization I don’t judge these customs, because harsh times required harsh measures. You will be shocked and horrified reading through the first anthropological accounts that Europeans made of the new cultures they discovered in Australia. Louis Nowra recounts a few in the second chapter of his book “Bad Dreaming,” outlining cultural systems designed to enforce child rape and far worse. The reason the commonly heard excuse for the near endemic sexual and physical abuse in some Aboriginal communities is ‘It’s our culture,’ is because it once was. I certainly feel no melancholia for these times and neither should you.

The Stolen Generation was terrible, but our guilt is no excuse to ignore the reality of pre-colonial Indigenous cultures, or the crisis currently facing tens of thousands of Aboriginal women and children. It is also no reason to solely blame western society for Indigenous Australian’s current position at the bottom of our poverty-amongst-riches system. The welfare going to Aboriginal communities is disproportionately high compared to rest of Australia, and at the same time self-determination replaced paternalism in the 70’s. Quality of life indicators across of the board, from literacy to life expectancy, are lower for today’s Aboriginal’s than their grandparents. This isn’t the 1940’s, or the 1970’s. It is 2009, when are Indigenous Australian’s going to start taking responsibility for some of their own problems, and when are white Australian’s going to stop pandering to it. Nostalgia is nice when it replaces a terrible past and ignores an even more horrific present and future, and it is easy to chuck guilt around, but is it the right thing to do? I’m not the only one to hold these or similar views. Such Aboriginal leaders as Warren Mundine and Noel Pearson have been called racists and traitors for suggesting we leave behind the attitude of nostalgia and face the facts of the present. If you think I’m catastrophising, I am not. If you think I’m racist, I am not. Read “Bad Dreaming,” go visit the Aboriginal communities in places like Maree and learn about the elders and their corruption like I have. Spend three days at the Camp Coorong Indigenous cultural awareness centre like I have. See the damage a machete can do like I have. Read the AMA’s statistics like I have. The first step to fixing this desperate situation is taking a realistic approach. Do not give into to the guilty pleasures of nostalgia.

Tristan Adams, The Devil’s Advocate

The TheDevil’s Devil’sAdvocate Advocate The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

Vox Pop! - The Academic Adventures

! p o P Vox with ash!

The Questions! 1. When you think of your child hood you think… 2. Your favourite childhood movie 3. When you were little you always wanted to be? 4. Your first CD/tape you bought? 5. If you could go back in time, what age would you go to and why? 6. Your 5 senses of nostalgia are:

art? 1. dragon ball-z and cheese-TV 2. the lion king 3. 100m sprinting champion 4. it was a cassette, Queen Greatest hits 5. 4 years old, still so easily amused by everything 6. Touch- Jupiter Bars, Sight- “no hat, no play”, Touch- My teddy bear..naww, Hear- the Captain Planet Theme song!

1. lollies and fairybread 2. the Goonies and Hocus Pocus 3. marine biologist 4. the beach boys, summer dreams on CD 5. 5, an awesome age, with no responsibilities 6. touch; plastic Barbie dolls, Smell; antique Russo, my parents drinking it in the summer when I was young, Taste- icy poles, Hear- ice cream truck, See; ocean girl, loved that show!

meanwhile... maria On the lawns... 48

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

andrew in union house!

of Ashleigh Lustica on Campus!!! next to jacquie!

the cloisters!? 1. Saturday morning cartoons, Super-Ted, Johnson and Friends 2. the little princess or the little mermaid 3. A princess of a mermaid..Omg remember ocean girl?! 4. shamefully..Ricky Martin, I had the poster and all. 5. 5 or 6 years for the innocence, you could just play *sigh* 6. Touch- Touching a starfish for the first time, Smellhot rain in Queensland, where I grew up as a kid, Fresh mangoes from our old mango tree, Sight- my parents painting my room a bright yellow, Hear- fantasia the movie 1. Saturday morning sport 2. the lion king 3. an astronaut 4. Romeo’s Heart by John Farnham (Shame) 5. 15 years, it was year 10, its an easy year I did nothing 6. touch- tennis ball from playing taps at lunchtime, Smell- dad mowing the grass...it’s good, Taste- happy meals from Macca’s, the toys were good, Hear- Michael Jackson, Sighteverything skating, I went through a skating stage

ben, back at the unibar... along with brendan!

1. flinders rangers, we had family holidays there EVERY year 2. Indiana Jones the last crusade 3. marine biologist 4. invincible by Michael Jackson 5. 11 years, final year for primary school, we were kings of the school 6. touch- cricket bat, Sight- all our pet fish, Smellthe u-hu glue sticks , Hear- Tommy Emmanuel, Sight- my favourite playground

The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

Social Fumbling; Mixtape Mixups

by Vincent Coleman “A good compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do. You’ve got to kick off with a corker, to hold the attention, and then you’ve got to up it a notch, or cool it a notch, and you can’t have white music and black music together, unless the white music sounds like black music, and you can’t have two tracks by the same artist side by side, unless you’ve done the whole thing in pairs and... oh, there are loads of rules.” – Rob Gordon, High Fidelity

love mixtapes. Not that anyone makes mixtapes anymore, what with the advent of iPods. Stashed away in my room is a box of Triple J compilations and bootleg live concerts on cassette, complete with the first few seconds missing from each track and DJ banter over the end – one of my most treasured possessions – and I still think the ability to make a solid 12 track iPod playlist is a skill sorely lacking in this world of 80 gigabyte music collections – if you even can compare an mp3 filled hard drive to a record collection. My point is that mixtapes are a lost art. I once went to a party where everyone had to bring a 30 minute playlist, and it was one of the best DJ’d parties I’ve ever been to. Since then I’ve always taken great care to make kickin’ playlists for each house party we have. Even if they get abandoned or commandeered, at least you have a good start and something to fall back on.

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine

It was with this in mind that I decided to make a party mix for a Swing Dancing buddy of mine’s housewarming. Being one of the more alternative members of the group I thought I’d go for something a little different and stray away from the traditional big band stuff they mostly dance to. The prettiness of certain female members of this group may also have been of matter, but I’ll let that lie. 24 hours later and I had pared several harddrives down to the following one and a half dozen songs: It kicked off with some rock n’ roll, got a little country, then got weird, turned back and rocked the fuck out with a mean groove and finally ended with hilarious kitsch. A few hours into the party, a suitable crowd had amassed and I figured it was the opportune moment to unleash my brilliant playlist. It did not go off as expected. In fact, a lot of people looked confused by Basement Jaxx’ Do Your Thing. Confusion and later disinterest hit, and I realized that this was not the crowd for my playlist. One partygoer informed me “we don’t dance to rock & roll” as Jerry lee Lewis started. The party soon dissipated to the kitchen. Finally, the draw card of the mix, the ace in the hole kicked over and I thought all would be saved. Swing buddy ‘L’ and I kicked out some serious jams.

Turns out the rest of the Swing world doesn’t think to highly of Christina Aguilera’s reimagining of 40s swing. People went outside. And stopped talking to me, although this may have been due to my incredible drunkenness. Turns out the Swing Dancing scene doesn’t really get drunk. One partygoer refused a Black Russian, explaining, “I don’t drink, it affects my dancing” - at a party. Go figure. At some point everyone left and I passed out on a mattress on the lounge room floor. When I awoke I went to the kitchen to dredge up some remnants of last nights memories. It appeared I polished off a bottle of Vodka, the best part of a bottle of Gin and half a bottle of 70-proof Kahlua. Looking around I also noticed very little other evidence of drunkery. In fact, as I cleaned up I found little more than a halfdozen beer bottles, a mostly-empty wine bottle and 20-30 soft-drink cans. I somehow got shitfaced drunk with a party of teetotaler Swing dancers, and didn’t notice. Looking back, this is almost definitely a contributing factor – although not the sole one – to the failure of my party mix. A few people at the party actually asked for a burned CD of it, as did a few others who came across it. The moral of the story: No matter how good a mixtape may be, be sure that a belligerently drunk will kill any and all buzz. Oh, and don’t party with people who don’t drink Vodka – no good can come of it.

Dear On Dit,

love, InDesign x.

The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine On Dit

Final edition of On Dit coming oh-too-soon! 52

On Dit The Adelaide Uni Student Magazine