Bug Diy Oet

The latest Big Day Out lineup announcement seems to have some of our compatriots in a tizz. First of all, it was announced between 11pm and 1am NZ time, to suit the Australian market where most of the event's money is made. This led one unfortunate youngster to blame the organizers for her imminent failure of NCEA because she had to 'put aside her studies' in order to repeatedly hit F5 on Twitter. We humbly submit that waiting for BDO band announcements might not be this student's main problem.

But really, who even gives two craps about the Big Day Out any more? Recent line-ups, and 2012 is no exception, have certainly been nothing worth waiting up for. Kanye is fronting, and assuming he a) shows up, b) is sober, and c) doesn't play too many tunes about his penis, that might be a good show.

And the second headliner is...what the shit...Soundgarden? Aren't they a 90s band? Aren't they and their songs well past the use-by date? YES and YES! It turns out Cornell and Co have recently realized their original fans now have more disposable income and so have reformed to cash in on the 'tired band festivals' circuit. No new material, "just the good old stuff". Perfect for everybody!

Things get worse from there: British dance-rock bores Kasabian, some highly mediocre local singer-songwriter/rap-guy/rock-chick filler. US math-rockers Battles are interesting but will do your head in. The Living End are probably the most boring three-piece on the planet, with a couple of forgettable radio-hits in the late 90s. And the list is rounded out with My Chemical Romance, who apparently still operate (and have hopefully stopped massacring good Bob Dylan songs).

Here at UUJM we've never been big fans of the BDO. It always seemed sum-uppable by: "go to Auckland, fight public transport, get heatstroke, not really hear what you want, leave early". And with this year's line-up, it hardly seems worth the $165+fees.

Diary of Helena From Seatoun - Pacific Island Edition

Dear diary,

I just got back from an amazing 5 day experience on a beautiful Pacific Island. I was seeking a truly authentic account of my intrepid journey, so I recorded many of my conversations with locals. Here's one conversation I had with my tour driver who picked me up from the island's airport to take me to my lovely resort.

Helena.

Helena: Mal'e alolo!

Tour driver: Mal'e alolo! Welcome to our island in the Pacific!

H: Thank you. I'm sure my 5 days here will be as inspiring and life changing as the travel agency website suggested. Where's our ride?

TD: Here. Please climb aboard and we'll go to your beach resort.

H: Wonderful. My ankles are killing me after economy class.

H: Look out the window at all the rubbish on the streets. Driver, how can you let your idyllic little island be like this? This isn't what the Pacific is like.

TD: Huh?

H: Driver, you need to be more environmentally conscious.

TD: What?

H: Uh hello?! This is Helena here, calling from the future. You need to clean up your dirty little island. Do. You. Understand. Me?

TD: Huh?

H: Forget it. So what's the plan for tonight?

TD: Everyone on the island will be watching our national rugby team play the world champions at 8:30pm. It's such a great honour for our people.

H: 8:30?! But looking at the beach resort's itinerary for Saturday night that's the same time as the authentic cultural show. They're going to be showing amazing traditional dances from across the Pacific while we eat from the buffet. There must be a mistake.

TD: Ah sorry, cultural show is off. Rugby is part of our way of life here.

H: But rugby proliferates violence and re-enforces gender stereotypes ...

TD: Did you just read that from your handbook?

H: ... Rugby doesn't fit with your lovely little island culture. No this can't be. Call your boss at the beach resort and ask him to make the cultural show for after the rugby. I have 5 days to authentically absorb your culture and damnit I'm gonna do it!

TD: Umm sorry but the boss doesn't want his staff up late on Saturday night because we have church the next morning.

H: But church imposes an immoral social order and reinforces gender stereotypes.

TD: Okay I definitely saw you read that from your handbook.

H: Yes, my handbook is like my Bible.

People Telling You They Like The Instrument You Play Cos There Was One Of Them In That Shite Band They Love

"Oh I love the saxophone it's so cool!" Can you please explain why you think it's so cool? No you can't, but that shite band you love (Chicago, Fat Freddy's, UB40, etc) had one in it once and that was innovative/crazy/mind-altering for you. I'm glad you like the instrument I play (seriously) and it's great that you felt strongly enough about it to tell me (also serious) but please don't infer because I play instrument X that I a) know or b) care about the particular usage you love so much. Otherwise all I can really do is smile and thank you for your interest.

The worst example of this goes something like this: "Oh my God, I love the clarinet, Kenny G plays it so well...." Kenny G a) sucks the fat one, and b) almost definitely played soprano sax on the recording you love.

The Rugby World Cup

Disclaimer: I love watching rugby now more than ever. Those guys are talented, hard working professionals. Credit where credit’s due. They’ve done the hard yards but this is a cup of two halves. The skill and passion on display are one thing but wait, there’s more.

It’s been a long time coming and now the Rugby World Cup is here. I’ve been in denial. I’ve had my fingers in my ears and my hands over my eyes. Hear no evil, see no evil, put a gag in Murray bloody Mexted so he can speak no evil. God I’m sick of his chess metaphors. It’s not a game of chess out there, it’s something far less intellectual. Regardless, consider the effects of the RWC:

-I hate the people you have to watch the games with. Mr “Don’t Pass It, Kick It” will invariably stand next to Mrs “Don’t Kick It, Pass It.” I didn’t realise buying a Weetbix box with rugby cards in it made you a fucking expert, fit to advise Dan fucking Carter. There’ll be the guy who reckons Richie doesn’t cheat but the other team does by doing the same things. There’ll be the old lady who says helpful things like “score a try All Blacks.” Good thinking Mrs Morrison. Don't get me started on Mr "The All Blacks need to sing the national anthem." They don't. They're not paid to. They need to play rugby. Within five minutes of the game starting you will have forgotten who was singing and who wasn't.

-Prostitutes have been flown in from around the world to meet the increased demand. I guess we can conclude that the RWC attracts people who lack sufficient social skills to get any without paying for it. Also, I hope New Zealand women aren’t miffed that they’ve been overlooked to fill the demand for paid sex. Isn’t unemployment around 6.5 per cent? Sheesh.

-You’ve got to feel for the homeless in Auckland. Good thing that security firm is sweeping the streets, keeping them in line. You’ve got to feel for women’s refuge shelters as well. They’re battling funding cuts whilst expecting an influx of “guests,” especially once the All Blacks choke at the finish line...or the start line.

-The economic benefits are guestimates at best and negative at worst! When we first found out we got it, people were talking about a billion dollar injection. Then we started talking about a half billion dollar cash input. Now we’re talking about hundreds of thousands of unsold tickets. Does anyone else think these numbers are as reliable as the numbers Gerry Brownlee pulled out of his ass to try and convince us mining our precious conservation land was a good idea? Tourist number projections are just as bad. Some sources say 95,000 visitors will come. Some say that's only 25,000 more than normal for a country whose economy relies heavily on tourism. What the fuck?! That's more or less the same number that could be put off coming because they want to avoid the RWC!

-Now let’s look at the economic downside. With tourists and tourist dollars comes inflationary pressure. If you’re a rich middle aged tourist coming from a country whose currency converts favourably to the New Zeland dollar, that’s OK. If you’re a local, that’s a right royal pain in the arse, especially if you’re a renter getting kicked out of your accomodation so your greedy landlord can charge tourists five times as much. Bloody awesome.

-Funding for the Wellington Jazz Festival has been cut because of the RWC. Well, an 80 year old Sonny Rollins still came. Well done, organisers. Presumably other funds have been relocated so all the worst parts of the Wellington Sevens can cover the whole country for six bloody weeks and John Keys can pull out some terribly unfitting rugby metaphors while the ABs choke and everyone gets distracted so the Nats can sweep home in November while passing all sorts of shit under the guise of urgency.

-One more thing. There’ll be a whole lot more assholes in town. My chances of being called a “fag” by someone who partakes in rituals whereby men pile on top of each other, slap each other in the butt, shower together and do all that other shit we know rugby boys like just got higher. Guess I’ll go drink expensive beer and gamble.

-Oh, there’s that song by The Feelers. Avoid.

-Oh, and public transport is stuffed and the city is in chaos. Notice how this just keeps going? Feel free to add to it in the comments section below.