Cash for Comment

The cash for comment scandal is to first year journalism students what Donoghue vs Stevensen is to first year law students. While Donohue vs Stevensen is studied to demonstrate how the modern concept of negligence came about (and why you shouldn’t drink ginger beer from an opaque bottle), the cash for comment scandal is used to demonstrate journalistic integrity gone wrong. Or a journalism ‘how-to’ guide in reverse. I challenge you to find a journalism or law student who can’t outline the above examples respectively.

Anyway, I was taken back to the cash for comment scandal the other day when my friend Camo agreed to donate $20 to my Dry July efforts in exchange for a plug on mybloggableday. Plug what exactly? Nothing in particular, just him. 2UE talk-back radio hosts Alan Jones (pictured above) and John Laws got into strife in 1999 when ABC’s Media Watch (how I love thee) found the pair were paid to talk favourably about various companies including major Australian banks without disclosing this convenient little arrangement to their listeners. Bad move. They defended themselves by claiming they weren’t ‘journalists’, but ‘entertainers’ and had no obligation to uphold journalistic ethics or integrity. Smooth.

So while I am not a journalist (yet), nor an entertainer, and seeing as the money is going to charity, here’s a shameless plug for my friend Camo:

James ‘Camo’ Cameron (not the James Cameron who directed Titanic and Avatar, aka the lesser known James Cameron) is a great bloke.

Anyone else who wants to sponsor me for Dry July in exchange for favourable comments, please get in touch. $10 will get you mentioned. $20 will get a mention and an adjective. $50+ buys substantial gushing and $100+ equals a dedicated post plus picture. Inquire within.

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Why I love Thursdays

Every Thursday morning, delicious sour dough bread arrives magically* on our doorstep. It’s like having the Father Christmas of bread visit once a week and I don’t have to spend the rest of the day with relatives I would sooner bump into on public transport than see at any other time during the year.

I whisk the bread inside, whip out the bread knife (which sits idle for most of the week) and slice away, toasting a few pieces before slathering them in avocado, finishing with lemon juice, salt and pepper. For a few minutes, I am at one with the world.

My Thursday morning ritual is only disturbed if:
(a) I burn the toast
(b) some bastard has finished the avocado
or (c) Aussie Farmers Direct runs out of sour dough & leaves a pathetic sorry note on the doorstep instead of the bread (that happened once and I swore vengeance would be done)

Ahhh the simple things in life.

Do you observe a ritual? Or worship bread? Contact me.

*It is delivered by a man in a van who works for Aussie Farmers Direct, a logistical process that can only be described as magic.

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Dry July

Very excited to have received my first Dry July donation! A huge thanks to my Mum!

For anyone who hasn’t heard of Dry July, it means a month of sober fun ahead for me in order to raise money for adults living with cancer. Woo! There are a few particular events which I know will challenge (but not break!) my commitment, particularly this weekend, formerly known as ‘Boozy Trip to the Country’ weekend.

I would so appreciate some more donations (any donation of over $2 is tax deductible!), the money raised goes to the Royal Melbourne Hospital to support seriously ill people living with cancer. Visit me at my Dry July profile:

                                    http://www.dryjuly.com/profiles/rebeccabrewin

Thank you! Any tips? Advice? Motivation? Support? Insults? Questioning of my sanity? let me know.

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A very un-bloggable day

Yesterday was bad. And by bad I acknowledge that given my very comfortable life, supportive family and friends, good health and education it wasn’t that bad (excuse the disclaimer, I have just spent an evening watching moving television programmes about Cambodian refugees and stroke sufferers on ABC1, so I am feeling pretty grateful right now).

Anyway, despite all my fortune in life, I made some very bad choices on Saturday night which resulted in a amazingly sh*t Sunday. Without going into too much detail, no dinner and a night of merrily chugging gin and vodka meant I spent from 10am to 5:30pm on Sunday being physically ill at 15 minute intervals. I am not exaggerating. I hadn’t had a hangover that intense since I was a hardcore partying exchange student in Austria earlier this year and last year. Despite all my usual ‘tricks’; Powerade to hydrate and replace lost salts and electrolytes, Zantac to settle my stomach, Nurofen Plus for my pounding head and jelly beans, well just because, NOTHING was going to prematurely end my pain. All I could do was wait it out and think about what an idiot I was.

I have some very prominent reminders of the fortune of good health in my life, ‘So why?’ I pondered, yesterday, mid-chuck ‘Was I so readily risking my health for no reason?!?’. All through my teens and very early 20’s I had always imagined that one day I would reach a magical age (23, I decided) where I would suddenly start respecting my body and health, fall in love with exercise, give up my ridiculous eating habits and stop binge drinking. I have about a month to go until 23 and it’s increasingly more apparent that without me actually trying, nothing will change. So that’s why, in light of the weekends events and it being a month before my 23rd birthday, I have decided to take part in Dry July.

Participating in Dry July means giving up alcohol for the month of July for various reasons; to ‘get healthy, challenge yourself, encourage positive change and a healthy attitude to alcohol consumption’ but also to raise money for adults living with cancer. It is an excellent cause but also an excellent kick start for me in my quest for a healthier life.

You can view my Dry July profile and also make donations to the Royal Melbourne Hospital Departments of Clinical Haematology and Medical Oncology here.

In return for your support and sponsorship I will provide hilarious updates of my teetotal month and promise not to become a self righteous, preachy reformed drinker.

Thank you!

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Heide & Seek


Some days, I can’t even be bothered pretending to enjoy modern art (oh! First World misery). On those days, I make a beeline for the gallery cafe (and giftshop). Last week, my gorgeous friend Sophie from Canberra- conveniently stranded in Melbourne by the Chilean ash cloud, and I opted to savour coffee, cake and macarons provided by Cafe Vue at the Heide Museum of Modern Art, instead of the art. Regrets? None.

(Image)

(Images 2 & 5 curtesy of Sophie Turnbull)

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Lucky Number Seven

Trying out some new purchases on a windy Melbourne day.

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Salford Lads Club

Yesterday four of us sat in the warm oasis of this cafe and watched the spectacularly shit Melbourne weather roll in from Port Philip Bay. I’m talking horizontal rain and trees.

Apart from the usual pleasantries of being inside during a storm- namely shelter and warmth, the Salford Lads Club provided excellent coffee, a ridiculously cool interior (think cyclist warehouse chic) and an impossibly cute barista with which to entertain ‘the only two humans left on earth’ fantasies during an apocalyptic storm. Perfect.

Welcomes Lads and Ladettes
1 Fennel Street, Port Melbourne

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BP Bargains


Because nothing says redemption like cheap and cheerful cosmetics.

Yes BP spilt 174, 383, 776 gallons (or enough to fill 290 olympic sized swimming pools) of crude oil into the Gulf of Mexico last year after the Deepwater Horizon drilling rig explosion which had catastrophic effects on the local fishing industry, tourism and not to mention, the environment.

But they are clearly making up for it with a rainbow of high-quality (read: non gluggy) nail polishes at rock-bottom prices*. I picked up the above lacquers for a mere $2 each. Today I am wearing ‘mushroom’ whilst drinking a cup of tea:

If only all lapses in corporate social and environmental responsibility could be made-up for with fun bargains like these.

* The 2010 BP Gulf of Mexico oil spill is in no way connected to the sale of nail polish at local BP service stations. In no way was I attempting to trivialise this event. I was only trying to be funny.

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‘Last Friday Night’ and other Fake Anthems

You know anthems. The songs that, despite location- from humble local pubs to seedy super clubs, despite audience and levels of inebriation seem infallible in their ability to incite loud singing, fist pumping, finger pointing, head banging excitement from The People. Anthems bring together and unite The People in a way UN Peace talks and treaties never seem able to. Examples of anthems sometimes range from cultures; you will struggle to find an Australian who doesn’t know the lyrics to popular anthem Khe Sahn by Cold Chisel. Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey was a long loved anthem on dance floors in the States and often Canada (before it was sung on Glee and became a tween anthem). Wonderwall by Oasis has been known as a pensive anthem at the end of a night or on the more drunken, sombre occasion. The subject of a song is irrelevant in determining an anthem, whether about a small town girl meeting a city boy from south Detroit, or a Vietnam Veteran’s escapades with a Hong Kong prostitute, no one chooses to write an them. The anthem is determined by The People.  The anthem is obviously an important agent in social interaction and cohesion.

However, it has come to my attention that certain artists (and I use the term ‘artist’ loosely) have attempted to construct and disseminate anthems at their own will. Fake Anthems. Or ‘Fanthems’ if you will. Songs like I Got A Feeling [tonight’s gonna be a good night] by the Black Eyed Peas or On the Floor by Jennifer Lopez or any song which describes a) a group of friends going out b) a dance floor c) the consumption of alcohol IS NOT AN ANTHEM. What these songs attempt to do is attract audiences who think ‘Hey! That’s totally us on a saturday night! It’s a party anthem!’. Let me reiterate this is NOT AN ANTHEM. This is a pathetic, cheap, gimmick and an embarrassment to the concept of the anthem. The other day I heard Last Friday Night by Katy Perry on the radio which is possibly the most crass attempt to construct an anthem i’ve ever heard. Lyrics such as ‘Last Friday night, we went streaking in the park, skinny-dipping in the dark, then had a menage a trois, last Friday night’ are to quote Ms Perry herself ‘[think I need a ginger ale that was] such an epic fail’. Anthems are not a how-to party guide for The People.

One naysayer suggested to me that anthems are simply shit songs glorified by age and that said anthems are only from the 1980’s and 1990’s. Not true. Paper Planes (2008) by M.I.A is a massive anthem thanks in large part to the gun-shot sound bites which enable dance floor revellers to make a gun with their hand and ‘shoot’ in time to the music. Womaniser by Britney Spears, although controversial, has been said to be an anthem particularly among the female contingent of The People.

My message to The People: reject Fanthems. They are offensive to the intelligence and high-brow taste of The People and cheapen the value of true anthems. Please name and shame Fanthems below.

Yours Truly,

Rebecca Brewin
Anthem Devotee & Advocate

(Images from VEVO)

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The James Macready-Bryan Cup

This Saturday June 18 is the James Macready-Bryan Cup, a charity football game between Carey Grammar and Caulfield Grammar to raise money for the JMB Foundation. The JMB Foundation raises much needed funds for the rehabilitation and care of young people, like James, with acquired brain injuries.

My Step-Brother James incurred life changing injuries to his brain as a result of an assault in October 2006, where he fell, unconscious, hitting his head on the pavement.

Unfortunately, the social security system which provides comprehensive funding for those injured in the work place (through Work Safe Victoria) and in transport accidents (through the TAC- transit accident commission) falls miserably short in its funding of the care of those with acquired brain injuries. No one chooses to get injured, or by which means they are injured.

So come down to Carey Sports Complex on Bulleen Road, Bulleen at 11am, say hi and help us support a very worthy cause. Hoping for blue skies!

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