One essay down, three to go

NEVER WAS A MAN SO HAPPY STANDING ON THE EDGE

Dear Xanga blog,
catchy emo-esque title eh? Though it lacks any reference to bleeding or a day of the week. I'll get to that later. Anyways, essays are one enormous goat ass pain at the moment, which is what I get for being an English major in a law/arts degree, essays coming out of my freaking ass. I'll finish that sufjan stevens post after june 4th, by which time I will have failed or completed all my essays. Anyhoo, this is to inform my loyal readers that Fred Durst, erstwhile limp bizkit lead singer and figure of ridicule has a xanga blog. It feels good to be in such illustrious company. For those who care, check out American Aliens. Poor old Fred is trying to boost his credibility by wearing Sonic Youth t-shirts and listening to My Bloody Valentine....not gonna happen. All the 'steakheads' as buddyhead so eloquently put it won't take to it too well, and all indie types are about one million shades of snobby to accept the red hatted goon as one of their own.

Who knows, for all his silly posturing Fred might actually be into all that, as much as it comes across as a desparate attempt to look somewhat serious. Still, the man who is responsible for Puddle of Mudd (apparently the lead singer is going to play Kurt Cobain in a Nirvana biopic, blergh!) has gone too far to ever achieve some kind of redemption. My advice Fred, for what it's worth, is take the money and run, or change your name. Anything you release post Limp Bizkit is just too loaded with connotations to be worth anything to anyone, even if it weren't a bucket of shit (and my guess is that it'll be a gigantic bucket brim full of shit).

In other news, Trish Draper is a silly shrill fool who may just cost the liberals a seat or two with her lovely rorting antics. Personally I couldn't give a fuck, but when you make a name for yourself as a high falutin' moral crusader who's only too ready to tell us what we can and can't watch, then anything that sniffs of controversy or foul play will bite you in the ass. Surely she should have known that this wouldn't play well, particularly in the Adelaide environment? Haven't been home for a while so I'm not sure the ad-fertilizers take on the above events, but I can take a pretty good guess.

And now back to the essays. Blergh.

TAHQUAMENON FALLS

Seeing as I originally intended this blog to revolve around music, I guess I should start writing about music. Today, I turn the spotlight on Flint, Michigan's second most famous son: Sufjan Stevens.

My first encounter with Sufjan occured when I was writing for the internet 'zine Delusions of Adequacy (my column, which was of very average quality, was all about the Australian indie scene, not that I knew much about it at the time). I read an article with Sufjan in which, frankly, he came across as an opinionated asshole, and seeing as I had heard none of his music at that point, I wasn't inclined to go searching for it (moreso because he stated his hatred for Wilco and Silver Jews, two of my favourite bands). The interview - and Sufjan's name - was soon forgotten and I heard nothing more about him for a year or two.

Then at the start of this year, indie rock bible Pitchfork (and I like Pitchfork, for all its' ridiculous posturing and often snarky tone) posted their best of list for 2003. As a sidenote, their best of list keeps growing and growing, from the traditional 10 best albums of the year in 1999, to 20 in 2001, to the now unwieldy 50 best albums and 50 best singles. But I disgress. Sufjan's third album Greetings from Michigan: The Great lake state came in at number three. Although the brief album synopsis was somewhat offputting - elevating the importance of the lyrics to an uncomfortable degree - I was interested enough to download a few songs. I was impressed to say the least.

The stock in trade of pop culture is hyperbole,

to be continued

FLOAT ON

Further to the below:

One day you will die. Most of will have some inkling that our death is approaching. Perhaps old age is upon you, or someone is pointing a gun at your head, or you are off your nut, paranoid and convinced that the driver of your car is conspiring to kill you (and haven't we all been there). Regardless of your mode of departure, you will not want to think of all the countless wasted hours spent studying or practising law.

I've already given two and a half years of my life (with another two and a half to go) to the hideous shebeast that is law, and I have no intention of spending a day longer than necessary bowing at her festering altar.

Normal posting (by which I mean, no posting) will resume now.

Bring it on lawyers, I'll kill you all. Swear to God.

A FEW WORDS FROM THE HEART

May I just say, Fuck law deep in the goat ass. Way deep.

I'm going to go out on a limb here with a rather broad statement (a statement that is unfortunately 100% true).

Lawyers are scum. Terrible, terrible people. All of them. From the stereotypical corporate lawyer to your high powered QC to your stressed out depressed drug taking legal aid lackey. All of them are scum. The law is scum. Studying law is absolute bullshit and anyone who disagrees is themselves an absolute asshole.

Which begs the rather obvious question: Why am I still doing law?

I'm not a psychologist, you tell me. A few popular theories...

1. I hate myself.
2. I'm scared of not following through.
3. I can't be fucked changing degrees.
4. I'm afraid to give up the job security.
5. It would make the last 2 years rather pointless.

All are valid reasons.

This has been a long time coming. However, I've come to the gut-wrenching conclusion that the law, lawyers, judges, lecturers, all of them, are self-important 'tards of the highest order. Which is not to say I'm not complicit in the whole sorry business.

Worse still, they (they being Melbourne Uni law school) suck you in by offering a few decent courses in the first couple of years (Torts aint too bad, because everyone likes to sue or pretend to, criminal law is fun what with the murder part and whatnot) but I defy anyone to enjoy property law. If you are one of the sick, sorry individuals who actually gives two fucking hoots about property law you are either a masochist, an overachieving fuck or some kind of robot/tard hybrid.

The only subject that comes close to approximating the self-important, puffed up tone of law is cultural studies. However, cultural studies has the decency to be a genuine 100% self-sustaining cottage industry, in which great treatises are written about urinals and supermarkets (and the occasional interesting book, eg Don Delillo's White Noise, not a bad read) but at least no one gets hurt. They can be funded by the taxpayer for all I care. Law and lawyers on the other hand, conspire to fuck everyone over (and not cheaply either).

Law Students live in a state of denial over the whole sorry mess. They either struggle along and eventually stop caring (and I don't want to blow my own trumpet, but I was happily going along in first year getting H1's and last year, when the rot set in, I comfortably passed both subjects after attending 2 lectures all year - that's 102 skipped lectures all up) or they turn into sleep deprived law zombies, or they take to it like vicious lawyer vampire ducks to a pond of human blood. These fuckers are the scariest, as they can't wait - CAN'T WAIT - to stop being students. They can't wait to do articles and go work for a big firm or get a shitehouse job working for DFAT. Then they'll end working for the UN, finding ways to cover up the latest oil scandal and expressing their deep concern at the state of whatever the fuck happens to go wrong that day, or they'll
become corporate whores.

I never used to like the stereotype of law students and lawyers as scumbags/corporate whores in waiting. But it's true. We are whores who love the secret language that we're taught, which yr average citizen has sweet fanny adams chance of understanding or interpreting should our services ever be required.

Lawyers are wretched scum. So are law firms. Law schools are festering cesspools.

Phew! That's a weight off my chest. And now back to the cocksucking exercise which started this whole diatribe.

And to all the future wigged 'tards who are posting on the property law forum, GET A FUCKING LIFE. This coming from a guy who spends most of his days staring morosely at a wall (and enjoying it). Fuck you guys. Fuck you way deep in the goat ass.

NB: Being a corporate whore isn't the worst thing in the world. I've got plenty of respect for entrepreuners who get out there and do crazy shit. Heck, even accountants are better than lawyers because at least accountants don't think they're God's special gift to humanity.

And remember kids, if you hit a lawyer with your car, make sure you kill him, because it'll be cheaper and yr far less likely to get sued. And if you do get put away, every crim will love you something fierce (and not in a dropped the soap kind of sense).

Rant over. Bring it on lawyers! I'll kill you all. I swear to God.