Legs Be Open About It: #vaginasoit

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I just published a piece for yeahnah.tv about the now infamous #vaginasoit scandal. It’s about censorship, female genitalia and general Western prudery.

Here’s an excerpt:

“Eighteen vulva mug shots, all lined up in neat little boxes. Like a Rubik’s cube that you can’t rearrange because it’s on the cover of Sydney Uni’s student newspaper, Honi Soit and therefore 2D. The vulvas are staring at you, lips open, pouting, pissed off because they can see your obvious dismay. You are shocked. And this shocks you. So why is it that a few photographs of female genitalia, completely unadorned and decontextualized, cause so much furor both in the psyche of the community and in the judgment of the law?”

Check out the full article here.

Why Don’t You… Lie On Your Resume?

And I don’t just mean on your actual resume, although that is a good idea too. I’m talking about embellishing your list of credentials generally. We live in a world where lying is considered ‘bad’. Let’s reconsider this. A little bit of white lying never hurt anyone, but it did help lots of individuals get better jobs, more money and more respect, albeit based on false premises.

When I get away with embellishing my resume

Recently I was hired as a debating coach. I’m not sure if you know about debating coaching, but it is a profession that is exorbitantly overpaid. Basically it’s a job that private school kids get when they are at uni so that they feel less guilty when taxi drivers driving them home to Vaucluse ask whether they work or not. Now I have joined them. The difference between me and most of these other coaches, though, is not our social background (for yes, I too went to a private school- surprise, surprise), but the fact that they are all actually good at debating, whereas I am pretty shit.

When someone says that lying simply to get stuff is morally wrong
When someone says that lying simply to get stuff is morally wrong

I was good at debating in Year Eight. A real talent, they called me. A kid with a lot of potential. Year Eight was the apex of that potential and it’s realisation. So when I got a call from the debating coordinator at my school, asking what experience I had in debating, I told her I had plenty. For example, I said:

1. “I won the Independent Schools’ Debating Association competition as third speaker”.

The truth? I did win. In Year Eight.

2. “I have debated in numerous debating competitions in my time at Sydney Uni”.

In reality? I have been to two Wednesday night debating practice sessions at Usyd. One of these times was to get the free gozleme. The other time my friends Will, Maria and I were on the affirmative in a debate about how the government should hire journalists or something. So we created a model involving a reality TV show with Matt Preston, Justice Kirby and the Pope as judges. The other side hated us and proceeded to destroy our piss-weak argument. The end. That’s my whole experience with Usyd debating.

3. “I love teaching”.

I hate teaching.

But you know what? I think that I’ll be a good debating coach, because I love to argue and I love my school and by extension any girl who goes there. I think debating is really important for young people in developing their confidence and their analytical skills. I wouldn’t have gotten the job if I hadn’t embellished a little. Well done me. Well done lying.

Some top-notch lies to tell around campus are:

"i can't sign your petition! I'm late for a tute!"
“I can’t sign your petition! I’m late for a tute!”

“I got into Harvard but I chose not to go”.

“I totally haven’t even studied for the test, I’m so screwed” (when you’ve studied for a month).

And to future employers?

“I am a count”.

“I thrive in stressful environments and enjoy hierarchy”.

Bam. Job received.

University is a Poem: Write It!

As exams roll past, and everyone is stressed, and I see people running comically to the bathroom at five to nine, we must remember to live, to breathe. This too shall pass! University is a soufflé that continues to rise and fall! The substance is always good even if it appears to have set wrong every now and again. Be a cook!

Sorry, I’ve been Googling haikus this morning and my brain has become a fortune cookie dispenser. Here are a few poems about some subjects I have studied at Uni. Feel free to write your own! The best entry gets a prize (the prize being a vaguely educational procrastination technique).

Torts

Ginger beer gone wrong

Causes much desolation

Kirby dissents, no!

American History

They said it would be easy

They said I’d learn about States

They said I’d get the Civil war

That I wouldn’t need to memorise dates

But the History department were liars

They courted no romance

They’d prefer to hand out credits

Than let the bell curve advance

They asked me what I thought of historicism

I said, “Yeah, it’s alright”

I didn’t know what historicism was

And I don’t think I was right

The marks came out

I was fucked

Michael Rees beat me by far

But that’s the way that Michael plays

A silent killer

An HD student, a star.

Foundations of Law

Textbooks laden on my bed

Textbooks crammed inside my head

Turns out I didn’t need to know

Anything

There was no exam.

Just a hand-in.

Ha.

Art History

The lecturer said, “I know about drugs!”

Some laughed awkwardly

Counterculture was beat

And beat was counterculture

The lecturer was shit.

Philosophy

I Kant do this anymore

It’s confusing

I can’t justify free will

My brain is Fuller but nothing makes sense

Socrates get up off my grill

Questions upon questions

I start to Hum(e) a tune

I read Locke but find no keys

I try to Plato my strengths

But to no avail

Heart says one thing; logic disagrees

Damn.

History of God

Stick figures on rocks

Must be sacrificial rite

No mention of Him