What I’ve learned about University from watching movies
July 20, 2009 by Tom Hersey
Filed under Features, Latest
Warning! Please turn away if you're a meddling Dean or up-tight nerd... I will insult you! Photo: lewis chaplin
Every February, a growing anxiety creeps over me. As another year of uni looms, the pursuit of a tertiary education promises to put a massive dent in my free time, threatens to drastically reduce my availability for afternoon naps and blackmail me into wearing pants on a more-often-than-not basis. To quell my apprehension about entering into my final year of university, I ventured out to one of the world’s greatest sources of information (no, not Wikipedia), my local video store, to get the no-nonsense low down on what it means to attend University.
THE O-WEEK PARTY
It seems one of the most integral aspects to a University education is a killer orientation party. Held by the cool/womanising/crude under-achievers, this party serves as a means for “freshmen” to profess their love for University-level debauchery, only to embarrass themselves by only acting debauched at a meagre high school-level. Complete with kegs, an impromptu performance by a famous rapper/alt rock/ska band and large red plastic cups with white lips, this party is generally doomed to be broken up by a meddling Dean or a rival group of up-tight nerds (for more information see Meddling Deans and Up-Tight Nerds). The cool under-achievers hosting the evening’s festivities will have no doubt organised for female students to parade themselves around in totally degrading manner, pandering to the misogynist egos of those hosting the party. The female participants in such activities will smile broadly and act in ways that would make even a casual feminist weep. While drink driving is in no way advocated at the first party of the year, people will cheer for anyone game enough to operate a motorcycle under the influence (as per Animal House and Accepted).
ACADEMIC PURSUITS
While attending an institution of higher learning, education should not be of concern to you. Rather, the primary focus of students attending University is seeing members of the opposite sex naked. Now, this used to entail elaborate planning (in Animal House it meant a ladder and all black attire), but nowadays it simply means a chance encounter in the co-ed bathrooms (such as in American Pie: Beta House). Obviously, if you are devoting all your time to leering at others, scholastic pursuits will fall by the wayside. If this happens, don’t panic. It just means you’ll have to divert all your attentions to devising an outlandish scheme to cheat (in How High they smoke magical weed, in Old School they have a complex system of listening devices and microphones). While a failure to achieve academically is likely to result in some pretty tough times around three quarters of the way through University, sometimes to the point where you might even begin to consider straightening up and flying right, know that no matter how bad your grades, you will not get kicked out of Uni by a repressed campus individual.
MEDDLING DEANS AND UP-TIGHT NERDS
Every story has a villain, and at every tertiary institution there is a pompous administrator or student group waiting for you to breach the University charter so they can kick you out. Be wary of these people, but also recognise that their ingrained prejudices mean they already hate you. So as soon as you identify such a character/group on campus, the best idea is to plan a series of elaborate pranks to crush their spirits.
While University life can often be trying, what with all the keg-draining and perversion, just remember that University is about self-exploration, enlightenment and ultimately fun. And if ever problems in your tertiary existence seem too over-whelming, remember that a road trip WILL solve all your problems.
A Eulogy for The Arena
April 25, 2009 by Tom Hersey
Filed under Out & About
- The Arena: Death Cab for Cutie 2006
As fans of alternative music, The Arena has offered a spiritual home to us all. As a venue, The Arena offered refuge to those disillusioned with Brisbane’s largely-populated-by-bogans night life. A place where collars were not required. A place where faded band t-shirts bought on tours ten years prior were a measure of status. A place where eight dollar cans of XXXX Gold were consumed without a second thought by the thirsty and stupid alike.
The Arena, or ‘reenz as we affectionately named her, lived a charmed life. When we were younger, she let us in when other venues turned their noses at those yet of age. As we grew older, we cursed her for allowing grommitty kids in. Although there were disagreements, we knew Reenz would never turn us away. She was generous and kind. Ticket prices were never exorbitant. The bouncers were never too hard on the kids. The floors never clean.
Yes, The Arena’s approach to hygiene kept us all on our toes, but it only made us love her more. You never could quite tell what was making your feet stick to the dance floor. What fluid you were stepping in puddles of in the bathrooms. All the stories that made you seriously consider going to shows with a pair of rubber gloves.
In writing about stories I scratch my left elbow and fondly remember the time a barrier at Reenz gave me a nasty case of infected dermatitis. My skin turned red and scaly and pustules sprouted from my wrist to elbow. The doctor said it was one of the worst cases he’d seen. It required a course of antibiotics and a cream to be treated.
Or the time when a friend and I visited the facilities during a show only to find two people being “amorous” in a toilet stall. They were loud, and sounded drunk. It was a Cannibal Corpse show. In fairness to the couple, however, it was their first ever Australian tour and we all celebrated in our own ways.
As Reenz is buried and a trashy, soulless R&B club is erected in her place, we cannot help but to mourn the lost of our beloved Reenz. The way she was oppressively stuffy in summer, yet had the air conditioners turned up to artic in the dead of winter. The way you could see the stage from wherever you were standing. The way there was always a post, wall or ledge to lean against.
Even though she will be succeeded by the Hi-Fi bar, we will never forget the times we shared with the Arena.
Rashes to rashes, toilet stall lust to lust.