Posts Tagged ‘zombies’
I’m sorry, but I’m not lolz-ing.
The Oxford University Press announced the latest inclusions to Oxford Dictionaries Online this week, some of which defy logic.
I used to enjoy perusing the quarterly updates of “current English” but now, the three-monthly read leaves me with a numbness in my special place and a strong desire to stick my head into an oven.
How the hell does formally acknowledging nonsensical words – or in the case of “mwahahaha”, a stupidity-inducing sound – as part of our lexicon make us a more evolved society?
If anything, recognising words like “douche” and “photobomb” demonstrates humanity is now officially catering to the lowest common denominator.
It’s almost as if we’ve waved the white flag and submitted to an army of faceless, iPod-toting, monosyllabic overlords who communicate with grunts , fist bumps and group hugs.
In a nutshell, it’s fucking ridic.
If an alien race was to attack the earth tomorrow – which would be a pretty douchey thing to do – the first laser-wielding ET wannabes to hear us communicate could be forgiven for assuming the zombies had already eaten our brains.
When I discussed the list of latest inclusions with a friend, they played the “our language is dynamic and ever-evolving” card.
Until they reached the word on the list that pays homage to genitals that resemble rhinestone-emblazoned disco jackets.
Ladies and gentlemen, could you please stand and put your hands together for “vajazzle”.
Mankind has not only conquered space, it has also made room in Oxford Dictionaries Online for a verb that means to “adorn the pubic area (of a woman) with crystals, glitter, or other decoration”.
I feel like I’ve woken up after sleeping for 20 years to find out Kim Kardashian is the president of the world.
Despite my friend being more than 1000 kilometres away and on the end of a scratchy mobile phone connection, I could pinpoint the exact moment when their eyes locked onto the word that describes genital crystals.
If you ever want to pull out a lay-down misere on somebody’s argument about how the current evolution of our language is a good thing, show them an Oxford University Press reference to pussy glitter.
While the vodka-loving boozehound in me approves of “dirty martini” getting recognition, the inclusion of “vote” – as in a specific reference to reality television – saddens me and reinforces my belief that humanity has pushed boldly past the point of being astronomically fucked.
It can’t be long now until Skynet becomes self-aware and the living dead commence their attack.
The moment you see “ROFLMAO” in a dictionary is the very instant you should descend into your Judgement Day bunker and wait for the language-destroying hoi polloi to succumb to our zombie masters.
For all those Twitter users who have a yearning to become one of my tweeps, clicking the button below will unleash the 140-character lunacy.
With many sports quickly approaching finals season, I think we all need a timely reminder that there is more to sport than winning.
There, I said it.
And I meant it.
I’ve spoken to several people representing a myriad of sports over the past few weeks and a disappointingly familiar message was sounding: sport isn’t as enjoyable as it used to be.
Lamentably, it wasn’t just competitors whinging about it.
Numerous spectators and fans of both local and professional sport have told me they don’t find watching the games they love as pleasurable as they used to.
One rugby league fan – who could best be described as a diehard-cum-fanatic – told me about how the recent State of Origin series caused him no end of stress.
The gentleman, who is a Queensland supporter, explained to me that he “bleeds maroon and football” but was finding it hard to enjoy watching the game he apparently loves.
“That second game [when New South Wales won 16-12] nearly killed me,” he recounted dramatically.
“I couldn’t sleep for a few days after it because I was so p—– off that those b——- won.”
When I suggested he was taking it a little too personally, he snapped back at me.
“Rugby league is life.”
Really, that’s the official line we’re running with these days?
Am I the only one who noticed the sun still came up on the Thursday morning following the loss, just as the sun rose on the horizon for New South Welshmen after the Maroons won their seventh straight series on July 5?
Following the 21-20 thriller at Suncorp Stadium, a friend suggested on Facebook that it was the best day of his life.
This is a guy who, according to his error-plagued social networking post, had never experienced anything greater in his 30 years walking the earth.
While I’m a sports fan, a football match – or any sporting event for that matter – doesn’t count in the top 100 things I’ve done in my life.
I don’t think it should for anyone, and that’s where I think we are going wrong.
The more I listened to people’s tales of woe, the more I thought about it until I finally came up with what I believe to be the cause of the feeling.
People are taking their sport – and themselves – far too seriously.
Whether you are watching or participating, be it a junior game or World Cup final, sport should be fun.
If it’s not, you’re doing it wrong.
The Oxford English Dictionary indicates sport is an activity “in which an individual or team competes against another or others for entertainment”.
See, it’s all about the entertainment.
Without an element of enjoyment, sport quickly becomes nothing more than a quest for victory and supremacy.
Don’t we have enough competition and seriousness in our lives without exacerbating the situation by pretending our lives depend on each shot at goal?
Just because you miss that three-point throw doesn’t mean you will lose your job.
Your family won’t desert you because you hooked that eight iron shot on the fifth hole.
Stepped over the sideline as you sprinted towards the try line? It’s okay, it’s not the end of the world; the zombies aren’t going to suddenly attack because you missed an opportunity to score four points.
As a collective sporting community, we need to step back and take a look at what small percentage of our lives centre around the games we love.
While this may pain some to read, sport isn’t the be all and end all, irrespective of what you believe or are told.
When we finally accept this statement to be true, everyone is suddenly going to find sport – whether as a player or fan – a lot more fun and interesting.
It’s simple: the more you enjoy your sport, the better you will be at it and the more pleasure you will derive from it.
It’s not rocket science, but it seems to be a lesson that’s easily forgotten.
So, when you run onto the sporting field to play or sit on the sideline to barrack for your favourite team this weekend, remember there are benefits to sport that transcend trophies and silverware.
Another day, another attempt by Christians to push their ideologies on the general masses. Nothing new there, right? I’m surprised I’ve managed to make it almost a full week without vociferating about a religiously themed topic that’s pissed me off in the news. What makes the story different this time, however, is that Creationism is being taught in public schools, and students are being fed scientifically inaccurate, absurd explanations to justify the theory. Worse still, the information is being primarily provided to the students by volunteers with no formal teaching qualifications or experience – just an ingrained belief that Christianity has all the answers, even if the answers are about as credible as the existence of the Easter Bunny. Have you ever wondered why carbon dating puts dinosaurs on Earth so long before any form of humans? If you listen to Tim McKenzie, one of the Religious Instruction (RI) teachers interviewed for the story, it is because the great flood must have “skewed” the data. Are you fucking serious Tim?
PhD researcher Cathy Byrne found in a NSW-based survey that scripture teachers tended to discourage questioning, emphasised submission to authority and excluded different beliefs. She said 70 per cent of scripture teachers thought children should be taught the Bible as historical fact.
When looking from a scientific perspective, the Bible could hardly be classed as an historical text, given that it is open to incredible individual interpretation, and the validity of some of the information contained therein – such as the whole able-to-rise-from-the-dead concept – is somewhat dubious at best. But I will get to the feasibility of zombies shortly. A fact is something “that is known or proved to be true”, not something that is believed to be true by a specific group. That being the case, for these individuals to assert that the Bible provides historical fact and should be used in schools as an historical text is incredibly condescending and narrow-minded – is it the Christian way or the highway?
One of the facts apparently taught to the students was that Adam and Eve were not eaten by dinosaurs because they were under a protective spell, which seems about on par for Christians from a perspective of rationality, considering that their faith is based on the premise that Jesus rose from the dead after being crucified. One would have to suppose that if the concept of a zombie makes sense to these people, then the notion that dinosaurs could be held at bay by some sort of Hogwarts-type incantation seems perfectly reasonable. According to the The Courier-Mail article, when one Year 5 student was told that all humans had descended from Adam and Eve, she questioned how this was possible, given the scientific acceptance of DNA. The teacher – and yes, I have used substantial creative licence with that description – responded to this by stating that “DNA wasn’t invented then” and essentially dismissed what was a genuine, very valid question. This riposte affirms the position that if you question any aspect of a religion you are automatically labelled as trouble and a non-believer. That sort of approach isn’t that conducive to encouraging individual thought or tolerance, is it? Why the hell is it being allowed in our public schools?
Is it time to forego any form of religiously themed learning in our public schools, if for no other reason but then to ensure that the inquisitive, malleable minds of these children are filled with actual scientific fact, and not the unsubstantiated, nonsensical beliefs of self-appointed (and undoubtedly intransigent) instructors? If RI is to continue, how does one decide on what is taught? All religions have differences in their beliefs – be they small or immense – and the very unyielding nature of religion ensures that any faith that differs is seen as wrong. How is the point of difference to be worked around? Why not replace the RI with learning to encourage free thinking, as well as respect for other cultures and philosophies, and leave the pontifical teachings to the home of the individual parents and to their place of worship?
Why do I get the feeling that David Barker has had a stint as a purveyor of religious instruction at some stage?