Binnsy's Hovel

I had a good day at uni today. Look, I’d probably even go so far as to say today was a great day. Not the least of which because a night at the Ezy doesn’t have to follow it. Basically I had to do a presentation on an article by the late Michelle Kendrick, interpreting it pretty much however I wanted, which was lucky, but I did some pretty wild interpretation.

Where the onus of the piece was on the advantages of printed text (books etc) against those of hypertext (archaic 1990s term for websites), I took it in a new direction, bringing in modernism, postmodernism and Romanticism and fashioning my own model of the contemporary technologised individual, the Hypermodernist Gentleman.

This model is based on the idea of the hypertextual author, one who is disembodied from his work due to its networked, intangible, virtual nature. Add to this a healthy dose of consumerism and tech savvy, and you have the guy.

It was a great thing to make people laugh and to bring in all sorts of random stuff, such as Coleridge and Hamlet, to make my point. It probably wasn’t quite what my tutor expected, but it generated a healthy discussion, so she can’t complain!

I’ll be developing the idea of the Hyper-Modern Gentleman further for the 2000 word exegesis due in next week, so no doubt I’ll keep you up to speed with my thoughts and ideas as this happens.

Until next time…

Yes, yes, long time, I know.

Fact is, I’m in desperate need of rantage.

I’ve been living on campus for over two years now; minding my own business, doing my own thing, yada yada.

You’ve heard about Weird Cricket Guy and Strange Chinese Dude and Slightly Gay Preppy Asian Guy etc. Not to mention the pair of rabbits (one of which squealed like a pig mid-coitus – bizarre genetic mutation or deliberate scientific experimentation, who’s to say?) that lived next to me in the months over Christmas.

Now I have to endure the moans and whinges of this poor Asian girl whose life is apparently so difficult that she complains almost non-stop to whoever will listen: her parents that rock up every Sunday for lunch, some immaterial person on the phone, and the pseudo-boyfriend who is the most arrogant, stuck-up, bigoted, dirty-mouthed son of a bitch ever to walk the earth.

I’m not saying my life is any easier or more difficult; in fact, I’m trying not to pass judgement at all. I’d just like a little peace and quiet, an umbrella of calm under which to conduct my affairs.

Too much to ask? I think not.

The plaintiff rests.

Until next time…