There isn't much by way of the funnies this week due to the fact that I've been knitting and writing parody songs for AUJS (Australian Union of Jewish Students - it's a uni thing that Sarah's directing) Revue 2010: The Shulshank Rejewsion.
No, I jest. The likelihood of it being called that is minimal at best. Other name options are:
Jewno (Juno)
Jews (Jaws)
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Jew (guess which movie we got that idea from)
No Country for Old Jews
Gentlemen Prefer Jews
The Jews Brothers (Blues Brothers)
etc. Basically if there's a Jew pun to be made, we've tried it.
And onto The Week!!!
We were in Latin, as we are wont to be when something funny happens. I had asked Sir when the song Mambo Number 5 had come out.
Sir: It would have been the late nineties. I remember it playing at my year 12 formal.
Soap: (in an amazed tone) You had formals back then??
Sir: (in that bitterly ironic tone he tends to use a lot around us) Yes, Sophia. We wore our best loincloths and draped the hide of a freshly slaughtered deer over our backs.
I laughed for a solid five minutes.
Later that lesson, Sophia put her headband over her eyes, turned to Elsa and whispered the following:
Soap: Elsa, I'm a cyborg.
She assumed none of us could hear her. Unfortunately for her, she whispered it at the exact moment our class was completely silent. So sir responded thus:
Sir: (stage whisper) Sophia, we can hear you.
And then on friday in LEX...
Sir: I can't afford to give you wine, you boozehound.
(That was the gist of a Horace poem about Virgil... Well my class found it funny.)
Showing posts with label Horace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Horace. Show all posts
Friday, September 3, 2010
Sunday, August 1, 2010
I Go To Be In America
Just like a Sondheim [and Bernstein] song that seems adorable and catchy the first few times you hear it, and after that becomes the bane of your existence because it's permanently entrenched in your head on a neverending loop... I'm going to the US tomorrow.
Don't ask how the extended metaphor relates. I don't even know.
But yeah. I'll be in San Jose CA for a week. Tagging along to a conference for some international organisation of...wait for it...commerce students.
At least I get to go (thankyou frequent flier system).
So yeah. I may or may not be able to access the internet during the next week, but I will be jotting down anything remarkable that happens and I'll post it eventually. Who knows. I might even get enough material to do The Week: US Edition.
But somehow I doubt it.
At least I have Cicero, Virgil, Catullus and Horace to keep me company.
Don't ask how the extended metaphor relates. I don't even know.
But yeah. I'll be in San Jose CA for a week. Tagging along to a conference for some international organisation of...wait for it...commerce students.
At least I get to go (thankyou frequent flier system).
So yeah. I may or may not be able to access the internet during the next week, but I will be jotting down anything remarkable that happens and I'll post it eventually. Who knows. I might even get enough material to do The Week: US Edition.
But somehow I doubt it.
At least I have Cicero, Virgil, Catullus and Horace to keep me company.
Friday, May 7, 2010
The Week
For a while now, Mr Morrison has been slightly glittery. This is because he has been marking year 7 assignments, and such assignments are outstanding in nothing other than sheer sparkliness.
We’d been making jokes about his glitteriness for a while when he eventually said “Every day I fly to school and I just need a little sprinkling of fairy dust. Are you happy?”
We were. Astoundingly so.
Later in the lesson, we were discussing History Extension major work essays.
Mr Morrison: I once had to write a 4000 word essay in German in one night.
Monica: Go on…
Mr Morrison: That was the climax of the story.
Me: Why did you leave it to the last minute? Were you out partying with Alex?
Mr Morrison: Yes.
Much lols following that. Alex was Mr Morrison’s hard-partying roommate when he was at uni in Vienna. Any story involving Alex generally turns out to be an interesting one.
Whilst translating us some Cicero
Mersini: I can’t spell today.
Mr Morrison: T. O. D. A. Y
Me: But… oooooh. Right. I didn’t think there was a T in ‘defence’
Mr Morrison: opportere
Mersini: That just makes me hungry.
Me: Why would indirect statements make you hungry?
(you can tell I was really concentrating that lesson)
Sophia: indirect STEAKments.
As I stated back in the holidays, our class spent a day trying to translate the Cicero. We got a bit unmotivated towards the end, as can be seen by our marvellous translation of a certain sentence as read out by Monica.
“Which you do not make to/against the strong military, but the way which you keep the hands off the other money.”
The actual translation goes something like this:
‘That it is necessary to be proved by you not that you did well in military affairs but how you kept your hands from other people’s money.’
Now onto history extension, where we are learning about the historicity of Jesus. We’re watching a documentary from the PBS during which Dominic Crossan expresses numerous opinions regarding Jesus and the like. One of the better ones was:
“That’s the terrible price of an apocalypse. There’s going to be an awful lot of dead people.”
And now to modern history where we had just begun the study of Nazi foreign policy. First, my definition of war: war is foreign policy carried out on foreign soil.
Mr Sheldrick drew a marvellous diagram explaining Nazi foreign policy. Here it is, along with his accompanying commentary.
To start with, he drew this.
The small thingy in the middle is Britain, sans Ireland and a large proportion of Wales.
The big thingy towards the right is Europe, lacking all of Spain and Portugal, The Netherlands, Scandinavia, the Mediterranean…
Then he added this
The shaded bit is central/eastern Europe. Germany, Poland, Austria, Hungary, the assorted other nations which are now predominantly post-communist something-stan, or alternately have a civil war or coup every ten or so years. But anyway.
Because when you control central Europe, you can
Branch out and ultimately control all of Europe. And when you control Europe…
…you control the world.
Yes. The smiley face was on the board.
Then there was English.
Mr Turner: Have you heard of Immanuel Kant?
Me (under my breath because I was boycotting class participation): Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmanuel Kant was a real pissant who was very rarely stable, Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar who could drink you under the table. Nietzsche, Nietzsche was (etc. the philosopher’s drinking song c/o Monty Python)
Later that lesson I was bored. So I put my copy of Frankenstein open on my head.
Yvette: Frankenhat.
FRANKENHAT The one function of a copy of Frankenstein. Sun protection.
The next day in Latin Extension:
Mr Morrison: How did you go in the Easter Show? I forgot to ask you that.
Me: I was disqualified for inappropriate mounting.
Mr Morrison then laughed until he was incredibly red. It took us all a while to cotton on to what he was laughing about, because generally we’re the ones who pick up on it, not him. So that was some unexpected of our normal roles.
A few minutes later, Mr Morrison wrote something on the whiteboard.
Sophia: Is that a new marker?
Mr Morrison: It may be.
Oh the banality…or is it banalité…I never know…is it like naiveté…is it anglicised…oh well.
We were translating Horace I.5 in which Horace is bitching about the guy Pyrrha dumped him for.
Mr Morrison: He’s someone a bit effeminate. Maybe someone who’s into a bit of manscaping.
If there’s one thing guaranteed to make things weird, it’s your teacher talking about manscaping.
And later, whilst making style notes:
Mr Morrison: Black is a word with evil connotations.
Me: Sir, are you being a white supremacist?
Mr Morrison: Yes
Me:picks up pen
Mr Morrison: Don’t write that down.
Disclaimer: Mr Morrison is not a white supremacist.
And today in English:
We’re learning about Frankenstein and there’s a lot of crap regarding the supremacy of nature and such tree-hugging pseudo-bohemianism.
Alagu: When Victor and the monster die in the frozen north, it’s as if nature wins.
Mr Turner: And what gender is nature portrayed as?
Alagu: Female.
Mr Turner: So the women win in the end.
(He was making a point).
Me (to Yvette): well if nature is a woman, then the arctic would be a frigid bitch. Thus in the end, it’s the frigid bitches who win.
Later:
Mr Turner: Are women passive or active in the book?
All: Passive.
Me (to Yvette): Passive like a gerund.
Yvette: Don’t make grammar jokes at me.
We were also given a handout compiled my Mr Morris (an English teaching deputy principal) which dealt with Frankenstein and Bladerunner.
Mr Morris’ handout: [Tyrell] builds [the replicants] well…but in an act of mean spiritedness, they are given a lifespan of 4 years.
Yvette (to me): That’s wrong. He did it because after the 4 years they’d grow emotions.
Me (to Yvette): Especially because most of them were created to be sex slaves. The last thing you want is a sex slave with emotions.
Yvette: Damn right.
And back to class discussion of Frankenstein:
Mr Turner (about the De Lacey family): Boring bunch of Bourgeois vegetarians.
Yvette (to me): Better than being a bunch of cheese eating surrender monkeys.
I lolled at that (internally). I found that lovely term for the French in a book the title of which I have since forgotten. But it’s a good description.
And then after school, I went to Hurstville with Monica, Sophia, Elsa and Hilary. We were drinking EasyWay (which is a curious product…)
Monica’s had pearls in it.
Monica: Oh My God! I can’t get this fucking ball!
And later, Sophia choked on her easy way.
Me: What happened?
Sophia: I sucked too hard.
We’d been making jokes about his glitteriness for a while when he eventually said “Every day I fly to school and I just need a little sprinkling of fairy dust. Are you happy?”
We were. Astoundingly so.
Later in the lesson, we were discussing History Extension major work essays.
Mr Morrison: I once had to write a 4000 word essay in German in one night.
Monica: Go on…
Mr Morrison: That was the climax of the story.
Me: Why did you leave it to the last minute? Were you out partying with Alex?
Mr Morrison: Yes.
Much lols following that. Alex was Mr Morrison’s hard-partying roommate when he was at uni in Vienna. Any story involving Alex generally turns out to be an interesting one.
Whilst translating us some Cicero
Mersini: I can’t spell today.
Mr Morrison: T. O. D. A. Y
Me: But… oooooh. Right. I didn’t think there was a T in ‘defence’
Mr Morrison: opportere
Mersini: That just makes me hungry.
Me: Why would indirect statements make you hungry?
(you can tell I was really concentrating that lesson)
Sophia: indirect STEAKments.
As I stated back in the holidays, our class spent a day trying to translate the Cicero. We got a bit unmotivated towards the end, as can be seen by our marvellous translation of a certain sentence as read out by Monica.
“Which you do not make to/against the strong military, but the way which you keep the hands off the other money.”
The actual translation goes something like this:
‘That it is necessary to be proved by you not that you did well in military affairs but how you kept your hands from other people’s money.’
Now onto history extension, where we are learning about the historicity of Jesus. We’re watching a documentary from the PBS during which Dominic Crossan expresses numerous opinions regarding Jesus and the like. One of the better ones was:
“That’s the terrible price of an apocalypse. There’s going to be an awful lot of dead people.”
And now to modern history where we had just begun the study of Nazi foreign policy. First, my definition of war: war is foreign policy carried out on foreign soil.
Mr Sheldrick drew a marvellous diagram explaining Nazi foreign policy. Here it is, along with his accompanying commentary.
To start with, he drew this.
The small thingy in the middle is Britain, sans Ireland and a large proportion of Wales.
The big thingy towards the right is Europe, lacking all of Spain and Portugal, The Netherlands, Scandinavia, the Mediterranean…
Then he added this
The shaded bit is central/eastern Europe. Germany, Poland, Austria, Hungary, the assorted other nations which are now predominantly post-communist something-stan, or alternately have a civil war or coup every ten or so years. But anyway.
Because when you control central Europe, you can
Branch out and ultimately control all of Europe. And when you control Europe…
…you control the world.
Yes. The smiley face was on the board.
Then there was English.
Mr Turner: Have you heard of Immanuel Kant?
Me (under my breath because I was boycotting class participation): Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmanuel Kant was a real pissant who was very rarely stable, Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar who could drink you under the table. Nietzsche, Nietzsche was (etc. the philosopher’s drinking song c/o Monty Python)
Later that lesson I was bored. So I put my copy of Frankenstein open on my head.
Yvette: Frankenhat.
FRANKENHAT The one function of a copy of Frankenstein. Sun protection.
The next day in Latin Extension:
Mr Morrison: How did you go in the Easter Show? I forgot to ask you that.
Me: I was disqualified for inappropriate mounting.
Mr Morrison then laughed until he was incredibly red. It took us all a while to cotton on to what he was laughing about, because generally we’re the ones who pick up on it, not him. So that was some unexpected of our normal roles.
A few minutes later, Mr Morrison wrote something on the whiteboard.
Sophia: Is that a new marker?
Mr Morrison: It may be.
Oh the banality…or is it banalité…I never know…is it like naiveté…is it anglicised…oh well.
We were translating Horace I.5 in which Horace is bitching about the guy Pyrrha dumped him for.
Mr Morrison: He’s someone a bit effeminate. Maybe someone who’s into a bit of manscaping.
If there’s one thing guaranteed to make things weird, it’s your teacher talking about manscaping.
And later, whilst making style notes:
Mr Morrison: Black is a word with evil connotations.
Me: Sir, are you being a white supremacist?
Mr Morrison: Yes
Me:
Mr Morrison: Don’t write that down.
Disclaimer: Mr Morrison is not a white supremacist.
And today in English:
We’re learning about Frankenstein and there’s a lot of crap regarding the supremacy of nature and such tree-hugging pseudo-bohemianism.
Alagu: When Victor and the monster die in the frozen north, it’s as if nature wins.
Mr Turner: And what gender is nature portrayed as?
Alagu: Female.
Mr Turner: So the women win in the end.
(He was making a point).
Me (to Yvette): well if nature is a woman, then the arctic would be a frigid bitch. Thus in the end, it’s the frigid bitches who win.
Later:
Mr Turner: Are women passive or active in the book?
All: Passive.
Me (to Yvette): Passive like a gerund.
Yvette: Don’t make grammar jokes at me.
We were also given a handout compiled my Mr Morris (an English teaching deputy principal) which dealt with Frankenstein and Bladerunner.
Mr Morris’ handout: [Tyrell] builds [the replicants] well…but in an act of mean spiritedness, they are given a lifespan of 4 years.
Yvette (to me): That’s wrong. He did it because after the 4 years they’d grow emotions.
Me (to Yvette): Especially because most of them were created to be sex slaves. The last thing you want is a sex slave with emotions.
Yvette: Damn right.
And back to class discussion of Frankenstein:
Mr Turner (about the De Lacey family): Boring bunch of Bourgeois vegetarians.
Yvette (to me): Better than being a bunch of cheese eating surrender monkeys.
I lolled at that (internally). I found that lovely term for the French in a book the title of which I have since forgotten. But it’s a good description.
And then after school, I went to Hurstville with Monica, Sophia, Elsa and Hilary. We were drinking EasyWay (which is a curious product…)
Monica’s had pearls in it.
Monica: Oh My God! I can’t get this fucking ball!
And later, Sophia choked on her easy way.
Me: What happened?
Sophia: I sucked too hard.
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