Friday, April 29, 2011
Ed Guevara had a tough and testing 2010, during the course of the year he went through two messy divorces, was victim of an Ultra-Nationalist smear campaign, fell bankrupt, was arrested for urinating on a statue of John Howard, had his children kidnapped and brainwashed, and all of this was just in January. Guevara has spent the rest of the year in keen preparation summarising a detailed credo which is “full of revolutionary undertones.”
He calls his new philosophy “The anti-human manifesto.”
Guevara's new, yet to be revealed policies have already come under attack from the far right, who have been swift in their actions. Throughout the month of April, 2011, several anti-Guevaraist commercials were aired nationwide in an attempt to combat this new threat to the establishment. We've all seen the television adverts with their anti-Guevara mantras;
“ED GUEVARA SHOULD BE A DEAD GUEVARA”
“STOP THIS MAD BRUTE”
Anti-Guevara lobbyists have also been active in the printed media and several detailed and malicious statements have been published, one of them implying that Ed Guevara's eleven-month hiatus from the political arena was due to his ongoing alcoholism. In The Times it was reported;
“The eleven months that Ed Guevara claims to have taken off to draft his new philosophies was nothing more than a hedonistic and barbaric spree. Guevara spent the entire time locked in a hotel room; continuously intoxicated, day after day, on a path of self destruction.”
The day after these statements were made, Ed Guevara summoned a press conference and was quick to rebut claims that he is an alcoholic,
“Whadd'ya mean I am drink? I 'aven't drinkin' in ages!! This is outrage, I not [expletive] drunk!”
Guevara was unable to complete his rebuttal as at that time he had fallen down and was unable to be woken up by his associates. Guevara blames his political enemies for causing this spectacular incident, claiming to have had numerous lawn darts shot into his neck during the conference which rendered him unconscious.
In late 2010, Guevara released his first civic blueprint for the anti-human manifesto “Less rights for humans”, this slogan was later changed in December to “No rights for humans”, and again in February 2011 to “Death to all humans.”
Civics like these may upset the members of the public who have more of a “human rights” approach to life, but none the less, Ed Guevara is in full force, issuing a decree on April 3, 2011 stating that the term “Bloody massacre” will now be referred to as “Peaceful exchange of power”, and “Radiation poisoning” will now be referred to as “The happy sickness”.
Ed Guevara is looking forward to an event-filled 2011.
Written by Glen Trask.
It is time, ladles and jelly-spoons, to gaze through the looking glass and drop your jaws in awe, for the very piece you are reading at this instant has been voted the best PWE blog entrant of all time!
Yes, that's right, across the board all teachers and students everywhere have emphatically agreed that this is indeed history's greatest PWE blog entry, and celebration has swept the nation. This majestic piece of writing has over night become the PWE blog's crown jewel and many believe that it will remain the greatest blog entry of all time. No less than seven public holidays have been announced in honour of this writing and it is sure to be showered in praise for years to come.
Reader, feel free to take pride in the fact that at this moment you are reading the number one PWE blog, this is a special day for you, please take the time to stop and process the flood of emotions you may find yourself feeling as you read this. This blog has become the undisputed flagship of the PWE blog and PWE itself. It has been evaluated and honoured by philosophers, scientists and politicians alike, I always knew that I was the best and this proves it.
Some, coming from a spiritual viewpoint, have claimed that the content of this very blog entry is that of a divine revelation, which, when considering the magnitude of awesomeness within this piece, is certainly plausible. Others, coming from a physical viewpoint, have tried to fit an equation that could explain why this blog entry is the greatest in history, they have all failed in their quest.
I hoped you have learned from this, and if you do not grasp it's nature – read again.
Written by Glen Trask.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
During the break I went to Sydney. This might not seem like very much to talk about, except I went to see one of my favorite authors, Terry Pratchett, live in conversation with Garth Nix at the Sydney opera House. I didn’t do any research into the subjects of the conversation beforehand, so I was surprised when the subject of euthanasia came up.
The basis of the issue was that there are laws in place to stop people having the choice to die and get help doing it. Only there is usually a good reason to make something illegal and there is no such reason as to why assisted suicide is illegal.
Sir Pratchett said that the only reason it isn’t legal is because the church thinks it goes against the bible’s teachings. I asked someone I know about it and they surprised me by agreeing with him and supporting his argument, it only surprised me because that person is my mum, her reasons were almost exactly the same as Sir Pratchett’s. If someone has a terminal illness that will slowly affect the way they live, if they aren’t physically capable of looking after themselves and they don’t want to be a burden to their family members, why shouldn’t they have the choice to be assisted in their death by a medical practitioner?
During the conversation at the Opera House he gave examples of people having committed suicide in disturbing ways. After that I now feel that people should have the right to have a peaceful death of their choosing, where they are guaranteed a swift and clean peaceful death, instead of hanging themselves in their garage, slowly being strangled by a rope.
(You can also look at one of Sir Pratchett's novels, I Shall Wear Midnight and this article for more information on the subject,http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/health/article7010209.ece)
By Elizabeth Azzopardi
Bruce Smith was the best operative ASIO had; codenamed Agent Drop Bear, he was as suave and sophisticated as any Australian man could be. He could make sheila’s weak at the knees with just a single glance from under his Akubra, and every red-blooded man wanted to be him, and his generous farming rights. And while he operated and worked in the nation’s capital, Canberra, his real home was in Victoria, along the coast in Torquay, where he owned a holiday caravan.
It was on this day, Labour Day, that he was called by his old boss, John Howard.
“Ah, Agent Drop Bear, sorry to, uh, interrupt”
Bruce was in the middle of servicing a local sheila’s plumbing when a small screen rose slowly up from the head of the fold out bed in the wall, former Prime Minister John Howard and his bushy eyebrows filling up most of the screen.
“Don’t worry mate, was just finishing up here. Of ya go missy”
With a rough slap on the arse, the sheila was on her way. Wearing only his trademark Akubra he turned to address his commanding officer.
“So, whats the story Johnny?”
“Terrorists have made demands to, uh, blow up the Victorian Parliament”
“Sorry boss, can’t do it. Public holiday”
“But Bruce, we, uh, need you”
“Alright mate, but I want triple time for this”
Quickly throwing on his acid washed jeans and work-mans shirt, Bruce burst out of his caravan into the soft sunlight and got into his Hilux Ute, mentally preparing himself for the trip into Melbourne.
Taking the Princes Freeway through Geelong and up towards Melbourne, he cursed at forgetting his Citilink pass; he would have to send the bill to Johnny for reimbursement. Across the West Gate Bridge he saw Melbourne in all its high-rise glory, the sun shining off the towering buildings and the filthy Yarra River. He enjoyed the big smoke, but didn’t like the pushing and shoving and generally increasing rudeness of its inhabitants, but he still regarded Australia as the Lucky Country and was proud to serve it…as long as it kept him in VB and premium AFL tickets at the MCG.
Burning rubber up Spring Street, his Ute bounced off an errant tram track and sailed through the air, landing at the steps of Parliament. He leapt out of the ute just as an RPG sailed through the air, striking it and exploding, turning the car into a pile of scrap metal.
“Ooo, you’re going to pay for that mate. That was a 2008 model!”
Reaching into his jeans he pulled out a 9mm pistol and fired off wildly towards the man with the launcher. The man convulsed with the impacts and fell to the ground in a heap. Bruce rushed up the steps, gun in hand, ready to fight those bastard terrorists. Seeing no enemies outside he put his boot to the entry door and kicked it open.
“Don’t take another step, filthy capitalist!”
As the doors opened Bruce saw the situation: one guy with the Minister for Transport as a hostage.
“Or what, you little bugger?”
“I’ll kill this man!”
“He was doing a shit job anyway mate”, Bruce raised his gun and fired twice, one hitting the Minister for Transport in the head, the other blowing out the skull of the terrorist.
Waiting at Southern Cross station for the V-Line to Geelong, Bruce felt his phone vibrate. He reached in and flicked it open; it was Johnny.
“Hi mate. There were only two guys in the whole place. Security buggered up something shocking”
“Yes, uh, unfortunately. But did you, uh, have to shoot the Minister?”
“It was a bit of a cock-up, sure, but he deserved it”
“Fair enough, uh, Agent Drop Bear”
Written by J. W. Holland
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Everyone is doing it
I started looking up some popular authors and found pretty much all of them have a website. It includes a bit about them, their work, and what we can expect from them next. But it doesn’t just end there. Many authors such as Scott Westerfield and Patrick Rothfuss also have a blog. I started looking up some not-so-well-known authors and found a bunch of blogs too.
Make the content valuable
Some writers have a strictly work only blog. Others, like Neil Gaiman, will use their blog to let you have a glimpse into their life. The topics covered depend on you, but the most important thing is to include information about your work.
A way to get discovered
Blogs can also be a way for some writers to get discovered. Yes, it’s rare, but it does happen. Tavi Gevinson began her fashion blog at age 11. Now 15, she is one of the world’s most followed fashion bloggers and is in the regular company of the fashion industries elite.
Don't be afraid to show off
They are also a great tool to show your versatility. Non-fiction writing may be what pays your bills but if you have a burning passion for fiction then why not put some of it up on a blog? Or show off your photography skills? Whatever it may be, it’s important to give potential clients or employers something that represents your work if they go looking.
So come on, get blogging and get your work out there!
Monday, April 25, 2011
I apologise for not having thought of you much lately. I know I should give you a name, but honestly I feel sorry for you and what I'm about to put you through.
This is the start of a letter I wrote to the main character of my novel for young adults. I find that having to do exercises like this in class, even though I often don’t want to do them (especially not with a time limit) they are helpful when it comes to thinking about the novel I want to write as a whole. Perhaps one of the most difficult things to think about in your novel is the main story problem, what does your main character want and need most of all? You might think you know, but the problem you think of could be too small to last your character an entire novel. At the moment this is my problem, what can I set as my main characters problem?
But I need to think about the story idea as a whole; right now my story idea is a mess. Writers have this problem a lot. I’m not the sort of writer who plans out a story before they write it, I write scenes from different parts of my stories and stitch them together later. I’m not sure if I should try to write it because the more enjoyable you find writing your story the better. If you get bored when you’re writing, you should stop. Readers will notice if you get bored, especially young readers who don’t have the patience to read something boring; they’ll just stop and find a different book.
I guess the main dilemma is self motivation; getting to write what needs to be written.
‘The best way to start writing is to start writing (are you surprised?) Do not be self-conscious as you write down the first sentence that comes to mind. You may want to consider "free writing" initially. Once you have written a few paragraphs you can go back and then start judging your work.’
Read more at: How to Get Motivated to Write eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/how_4669185_motivated-write.html#ixzz1KV8Z8LS5
By Elizabeth Azzopardi
Thursday, April 21, 2011
This may be due to two reasons:
1. my inspired thoughts often happen at strange times and places - no, not the toilet!
2. my inspiration, flashes of brilliance and WOW moments happen when I least expect them to.
or snippet of dialogue knocks me over
begging for me to WRITE IT DOWN.
And we all know what happens when you don’t write it down ... sadly, like my secret stash of liquorice allsorts that I keep on the pantry’s top shelf out of my children’s reach, these brilliant thoughts somehow disappear before you know it and you can’t remember having them at all.
BUT unlike the liquorice, I can’t go out and buy another packet. Creative thought and inspiration doesn’t work like that, not for me.
Keeping a pen and notebook in my handbag isn’t a difficult thing to do, however I have recently found an even better way to avoid future ‘no pen and no paper’ moments in my life. I’ve started using the ‘notes’ app and ‘voice memo’ app on my iphone.
Technology is a wonderful thing, and although it will never replace the way I feel about a pen and paper, it is a great tool for getting down those early nuggets of writing gold.
By Anna Brasier
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
A few years ago a friend got me onto Catherine Deveny. I spent a long while looking forward to her column in The Age and enjoying her appearances on Q and A. The thing that drew me to her was that we seemed to share a lot of the same thoughts. Women’s rights, atheism and a dislike for bogans were all I needed.
After a while I started to realise that Catherine isn’t quite as funny as I thought. By now I was following her on Twitter and getting a daily dose of the world according to Catherine was becoming a bit too much. It dawned on me that truly funny people pick on everyone. Catherine only picks on the people she thinks she is better than, and trust me, that’s a lot of people.
My friend had long ago dropped her from his Twitter feed but I was still hanging on when I saw Catherine tweet this: Fuck The Pope by @TimMinchin http://bit.ly/b9cB17 #blessyou. It’s a link to a video by comedian Tim Minchin that I will admit I have never watched. I couldn't get past the title and Catherine’s smug little #blessyou.
This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I was suddenly furious at this vulgar woman who constantly criticises those who shove their beliefs down other’s throats but has no ability to practice what she preaches.
I shot out: @CatherineDeveny @timminchin I'm all for slamming shit religious practices, but what happened to respect? It felt great! But it didn't end there. To my surprise I received a reply: @shelikestowrite Respect is code for please leave us to discriminate with our religion approved hatred and phallocracy.
In the space of about a minute I had decided that Catherine Deveny was my enemy and that we were at war. I fired back: @CatherineDeveny No. It's code for have some maturity and people might actually hear your message. Now I was really revved up and texting my friends to log on and watch the battle. Turns out it was already over. I got nothing back. Not one little tweet.
I must say my life is a little better after this incident. I have since unfollowed Catherine and realised I may need to be a little more careful with who I choose to look up to.
Although she was probably just caught up in her ego, I do like to think I am the person that managed to silence Catherine Deveny.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Maybe you like to enjoy ...
- a few lattes or drinks out with friends,
- go to the footy and let off some steam at the opposition
- lie on the couch with a good book and lots of yummy chocolate.
or scribbled notes
and send it out into the BIG WIDE WORLD of publishing.
Writing? I did say writing, didn’t I? When, amongst all the reading, researching assignments, handing in work and eating chocolate do you get time to write, let alone send your work out there?
As a new and emerging writer the thought of one person reading your work, let alone many people reading your work is scary. However, if you want to be a writer, eventually someone other than your teacher or your mum, your boyfriend or your girlfriend is going to have to read your work.
A great way to start testing the waters is to try competitions first. Most competitions are free to enter, although some do ask for an entry fee - this ranges from $5-$20.
There are competitions to suit all styles,
This is a good thought to keep in mind, especially if you are unsuccessful.
You can find information on competitions from your local library, school campus, and the Victorian Writers’ Centre (VWC). The VWC has a log book full of entry forms which you can photocopy or ask them to mail out.
By Anna Brasier
Friday, April 15, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Toast was never one to refuse a good bit of buttering on a lonely Saturday night, but tonight was different. He had gone to the ‘Breakfast Club’ to meet with the guys, have a few drinks, and then it was on to business. It always helped him to have a few drinks before a job. Forcing somebody to their final meal was never a pleasant thought, but what he did paid the bills and kept him in jam.
The girl who was all over his buttery knob tonight and he would have made Bacon himself go to the final meal just to get into her crumbs, but work had to take precedence. Toast excused himself from the bar, sculled his maple syrup, said good bye to his friends, who were busy showing off their fake browns to a couple of young eggs, and left the club. He set off south, to the Vegemite Pits and his grim task.
The Vegemite Pits had that yeast smell that made Toast’s crusts shudder, his memory reeling back to the old days when he was part of the Nutritionists morning line-up, doing stand-up comedy to all those young minds. He shook the feeling off and continued down the road, eager to get his job over and done with.
Toast ended up outside a dilapidated warehouse, with the words ‘Kellogg’s Sucks’ sprawled in bad graffiti on the side, that made his already bad feeling get much worse. Nothing ever good came out of a warehouse mission, least of all his crumbs. Equipping his Cereal Shotgun, Toast ventured inside, cautiously checking every corner and darkened area for anything that might pop out and make him drop a load of bread in his trousers.
He sensed movement behind him and whirled around with knife-like speed and brought his shotgun to bear, “Stop! Identify yourself or I’ll spread you all over floor”
“Don’t shoot Toast! It’s me, Pancake”
Toast lowered his shotgun as Pancake emerged from a dark corner.
“What are you doing here Pancake?!”
“I heard you were going after Cheese and I wanted to give you some backup”
“Alright fine, just don’t get yourself killed”
Toast reluctantly allowed Pancake to stay, and they both ventured deeper into the warehouse.
“I don’t know about this Toast, maybe we should turn back and go home”
“Stop whining Pancake”
Toast was busy looking through some of the offices in the second floor, with Pancake giving out his objections when he spied movement in what he suspected was the main office.
“Shut it Pancake!”
Toast, ignoring Pancake now, moved through the offices carefully, trying not to scrape his edges. He made it to the office and could clearly hear voices inside. He quickly peeked through the nearby window and made sure the target was the correct one; satisfied, he straightened himself up, milked his Cereal Shotgun and kicked in the door.
Toast let fire his Cereal Shotgun, smearing and spreading all who were in the office. When the smoke cleared he could see Cheese was now full of holes, as were his henchmen, Cubed and Grated. He turned around to leave, saw Pancake cowering in a corner, collected him up and went to the exit, back into the Vegemite Pits.
Written by J. W. Holland