Showing posts with label MTG. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MTG. Show all posts
In this second in the series of catch up posts, I wish to draw your attention to the way a certain TV show has captured the nation's imagination and made cult figures out of its stars. I wish I was speaking of the Mr. T late night infomercial but no, it's MasterChef. (Personally I was quite happy the filthy beer merchant didn't win, the look on his face during the final was priceless.) The papers could not get enough of the show and took every possible angle no matter how tenuous. The photo below is from The Sunday Age.
I didn't think it'd be too difficult a task to find a photograph where all three judges were in the same shot. It really makes the other two look like shunners and Preston seem like the shunnee. I know, another made up word... I'm sorry. Secondly, seeing as Preston works for The Age I fail to see how they of all people could not manage to find a half decent shot of him that doesn't look like he's about to eat someone whole.
This shot in context seems fine enough without the cropping. It's still a little scary but his head doesn't take up the entire shot so it's not too bad. Or they could use that creepy photoshoot (which can be found on the Matt Preston fan page on Facebook) where he's biting down on a bunch of chilli peppers while trying to be seductive. Either way he's on the list of my new heroes.
Speaking of heroes, I came within half a metre of meeting one of them the other night. I went along with my sister to see Paul Dempsey at the Newtown Workers Club on Tuesday night. I had to apologise profusely for making her wait who knows how long since I was stuck at uni for a bit longer than I hoped and made up for it by buying her dinner and paying for tickets. Never say I don't care, because it just isn't true.
In any case we needn't have worried about getting there on time since there was easily enough space for everyone. We got a spot near the front though so I can't complain. I had no idea what to expect from the set, the only solo material I had heard so far were the two singles and they certainly sounded promising. I wasn't expecting him to play any Something For Kate material but he played 'The Astronaut' and 'Pinstripe' at Glen(n)'s repeated inebriated requests. The rest of the solo material was pretty solid even if I can't remember the majority of the song titles. Paul's live work is excellent, he often puts a different spin on album tracks to give them a new lease of life which makes seeing him or SFK always worthwhile.
As I said before I was came really close to meeting the man, but my idolism got in the way. Potentially meeting a personal hero means near instant paralysis and a shit eating grin on this face of mine, and this usually lasts until that person leaves the room or calls security. It's not really my fault, I'm just scared of saying something incredibly stupid.
I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to write in full the extent of what happened in my studio this first semester, so much happened and yet seemingly so little was produced. Without going into too much detail those who did not have prior bookings to go overseas pretty much stuck behind and worked on this thing on a daily basis with very little time for a break. Perhaps I'm lacking the correct 'attitude' in my approach to the entire thing but there weren't a lot of opportunities to catch up with friends over this past month. So when I caught up with a bunch of non-architecture friends last Saturday I seemed to appreciate the entire thing a lot more than usual.
The day was fairly intensive transport wise, being in transit for a lot of the day zipping from place to place. I had to stop by uni first in the morning (as was often the case over these holidays) to do some work and check on things and that meant jumping on a train at 9am on a Saturday in the middle of winter. On the platform at Heidelberg this crazy old man walked past me holding two bags of shopping, muttering under his breath while making a bold fashion statement by wearing shorts. Perhaps you don't need trousers when you've got a lifetime of bitterness to keep you warm, something I look forward to doing in later years.
After performing my duties at uni I rushed down to catch a train to Croydon just to play cards. I really shouldn't bother going such long distances just to do things like that but there are times when I absolutely need to be playing cards. This was one of those times. The trip from the city to Croydon takes about an hour so I passed the time sleeping or listening to music, my default public transport stance. Cards didn't go too bad, I came third overall and fun was had for all. Afterwards I hitched a lift to the station and jumped on the new bus back to Heidelberg, where the trusty Vengabus was waiting in the car park. I used to catch that bus every day to school, and having a new bus route replacing the bus where I spent many a morning and afternoon wasn't as odd as I first thought. I guess it is only a bus route after all.
For the sake of retaining dignity in the years to come I shouldn't put this into writing but my driving experience is limited at best, and I haven't had all that much night driving time under my belt. So it was probably fortunate that it was dark because I managed to flip one lever too many and ended up with the windscreen wipers on for the entire trip home. Any attempt to switch it off ended up making them just go faster or even worse the water nozzle would trigger, making it just as well the wipers were on. I did manage to get rid of them after I pulled into the garage after fiddling around for a couple more minutes though.
After gracing my family with my presence for a quick dinner I hitched another lift from a friend and went to what is probably our group's favourite restaurant, The Pancake Parlour in Doncaster. We refer to it as the Stoner Parlour since it never closes and those ads on the radio seem to think stoners are their primary market. I haven't seen many of these guys for the majority of the holidays and it was a bit annoying that uni kept me away from the remnants of my social life for so long. That stuff didn't matter much once we got there though, I regaled them with stories of my triumphant occasionally superior card playing skills over those noobs and they replied by doing parts of the Thriller dance. Seems apt really. Contrary to popular belief the Stoner Parlour is not full of stoners at 10pm, in fact it was full of normal looking folk that made us look like the weirdos, what with our bad singing and pretend zombie movements.
Looking for some time to burn we then went back to my place to watch The Ashes until 1 or so. Haddin produced bye after bye without fail and it was fun watching my friends predict byes with staggering accuracy. This was probably the first time in ages I let people come over to my place. I often have people drop me off but letting them into the House of Chiu is another matter entirely (I came up with that phrase during Year 12 camp while pouring water for friends at lunch). I once had a bunch of friends over my place back in Hong Kong and I had a ridiculous time trying to prevent them from breaking anything. Ever since then I have had this aversion to having anyone over, or at least in large groups I can tame with pepper spray, or a large trap door inhabited by an equally large trap door spider.
I was pretty buggered by the end of it but it was definitely worth it. In the seemingly never ending shitstorm that is my studio, this was the textbook definition of a perfect day.
Join me next time when I drag you to my definition of hell.
I didn't think it'd be too difficult a task to find a photograph where all three judges were in the same shot. It really makes the other two look like shunners and Preston seem like the shunnee. I know, another made up word... I'm sorry. Secondly, seeing as Preston works for The Age I fail to see how they of all people could not manage to find a half decent shot of him that doesn't look like he's about to eat someone whole.
This shot in context seems fine enough without the cropping. It's still a little scary but his head doesn't take up the entire shot so it's not too bad. Or they could use that creepy photoshoot (which can be found on the Matt Preston fan page on Facebook) where he's biting down on a bunch of chilli peppers while trying to be seductive. Either way he's on the list of my new heroes.
*****
Speaking of heroes, I came within half a metre of meeting one of them the other night. I went along with my sister to see Paul Dempsey at the Newtown Workers Club on Tuesday night. I had to apologise profusely for making her wait who knows how long since I was stuck at uni for a bit longer than I hoped and made up for it by buying her dinner and paying for tickets. Never say I don't care, because it just isn't true.
In any case we needn't have worried about getting there on time since there was easily enough space for everyone. We got a spot near the front though so I can't complain. I had no idea what to expect from the set, the only solo material I had heard so far were the two singles and they certainly sounded promising. I wasn't expecting him to play any Something For Kate material but he played 'The Astronaut' and 'Pinstripe' at Glen(n)'s repeated inebriated requests. The rest of the solo material was pretty solid even if I can't remember the majority of the song titles. Paul's live work is excellent, he often puts a different spin on album tracks to give them a new lease of life which makes seeing him or SFK always worthwhile.
As I said before I was came really close to meeting the man, but my idolism got in the way. Potentially meeting a personal hero means near instant paralysis and a shit eating grin on this face of mine, and this usually lasts until that person leaves the room or calls security. It's not really my fault, I'm just scared of saying something incredibly stupid.
*****
I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to write in full the extent of what happened in my studio this first semester, so much happened and yet seemingly so little was produced. Without going into too much detail those who did not have prior bookings to go overseas pretty much stuck behind and worked on this thing on a daily basis with very little time for a break. Perhaps I'm lacking the correct 'attitude' in my approach to the entire thing but there weren't a lot of opportunities to catch up with friends over this past month. So when I caught up with a bunch of non-architecture friends last Saturday I seemed to appreciate the entire thing a lot more than usual.
The day was fairly intensive transport wise, being in transit for a lot of the day zipping from place to place. I had to stop by uni first in the morning (as was often the case over these holidays) to do some work and check on things and that meant jumping on a train at 9am on a Saturday in the middle of winter. On the platform at Heidelberg this crazy old man walked past me holding two bags of shopping, muttering under his breath while making a bold fashion statement by wearing shorts. Perhaps you don't need trousers when you've got a lifetime of bitterness to keep you warm, something I look forward to doing in later years.
After performing my duties at uni I rushed down to catch a train to Croydon just to play cards. I really shouldn't bother going such long distances just to do things like that but there are times when I absolutely need to be playing cards. This was one of those times. The trip from the city to Croydon takes about an hour so I passed the time sleeping or listening to music, my default public transport stance. Cards didn't go too bad, I came third overall and fun was had for all. Afterwards I hitched a lift to the station and jumped on the new bus back to Heidelberg, where the trusty Vengabus was waiting in the car park. I used to catch that bus every day to school, and having a new bus route replacing the bus where I spent many a morning and afternoon wasn't as odd as I first thought. I guess it is only a bus route after all.
For the sake of retaining dignity in the years to come I shouldn't put this into writing but my driving experience is limited at best, and I haven't had all that much night driving time under my belt. So it was probably fortunate that it was dark because I managed to flip one lever too many and ended up with the windscreen wipers on for the entire trip home. Any attempt to switch it off ended up making them just go faster or even worse the water nozzle would trigger, making it just as well the wipers were on. I did manage to get rid of them after I pulled into the garage after fiddling around for a couple more minutes though.
After gracing my family with my presence for a quick dinner I hitched another lift from a friend and went to what is probably our group's favourite restaurant, The Pancake Parlour in Doncaster. We refer to it as the Stoner Parlour since it never closes and those ads on the radio seem to think stoners are their primary market. I haven't seen many of these guys for the majority of the holidays and it was a bit annoying that uni kept me away from the remnants of my social life for so long. That stuff didn't matter much once we got there though, I regaled them with stories of my triumphant occasionally superior card playing skills over those noobs and they replied by doing parts of the Thriller dance. Seems apt really. Contrary to popular belief the Stoner Parlour is not full of stoners at 10pm, in fact it was full of normal looking folk that made us look like the weirdos, what with our bad singing and pretend zombie movements.
Looking for some time to burn we then went back to my place to watch The Ashes until 1 or so. Haddin produced bye after bye without fail and it was fun watching my friends predict byes with staggering accuracy. This was probably the first time in ages I let people come over to my place. I often have people drop me off but letting them into the House of Chiu is another matter entirely (I came up with that phrase during Year 12 camp while pouring water for friends at lunch). I once had a bunch of friends over my place back in Hong Kong and I had a ridiculous time trying to prevent them from breaking anything. Ever since then I have had this aversion to having anyone over, or at least in large groups I can tame with pepper spray, or a large trap door inhabited by an equally large trap door spider.
I was pretty buggered by the end of it but it was definitely worth it. In the seemingly never ending shitstorm that is my studio, this was the textbook definition of a perfect day.
Join me next time when I drag you to my definition of hell.
Good luck getting your hands on a copy of Maelstrom Pulse, if the online catalogue for Good Games is anything to go by.
In other news, hurray for lecturers taking random holidays! Both my design tutor and construction lecturer are away for the week (hopefully not on the same holiday) leaving us with half the break we so sorely needed over Easter. Still have work to do but it's better than nothing. Time to get everything back on track, hope to post later when procrastination time comes around next.
I got my John Avon signed Alara MPS lands in the post today, my rational Asian cheapo strongly advised against buying them in the first place but I really couldn't resist. I even got to communicate with the man via email, fulfilling some sort of nerdcore fantasy I suppose. Not that I went crazy with the complements and use of netspeak - I was far too self conscious to do that.
I should really take better care of my money, especially when I'm too busy studying to work a proper job that wasn't described in "Gangs of Oz". In the meantime though I'm still waiting for any potential windfall from the Rudd government to reach my bank account so that I can purchase this little item. Not sure if Rudd intended for all this money to go overseas like that though.
For those not in the know, this is a toaster with a theme based upon the Cylons from the updated version of Battlestar Galactica. In this universe they substitue all the swearing with the word 'Frak'. It also turns out they refer to the Cylons as toasters. That's an awful lot of explanation for an insider joke in a way that is guaranteed to confuse and alienate all those who can't understand why you would want your toast made with a Cylon head burnt into it. Never mind that the show is actually good and very serious in the way that the Stargate series is not (MacGyver in space?!), I just love a good space opera.
Don't know if I'd actually use it to make toast though. It looks far too pretty.