Cover Photo (TBC)

Er...hey, Week 7, what up? Seriously, does ANYBODY know where the past six weeks went and why it feels like O-Week was about three minutes ago? Scary though the time fly by-ingness may be, here’s one happy fact - it’s Insight week YIPPEEEE! Better still, this is definitely my favourite issue yet, chock-full of incredible contributions from some delectably creative and talented students.

Check out what’s going on in the big, bad world with a “Where Are They Now?”-esque spotlight on Jack Campbell (page 3) and Andrew Dennis’ check-in from overseas (page 20), the first in a series. Prepare for some serious tummy-grumbling if you dare to delve into Ash Peplow Ball’s good-enough-you-could-eat-it Asian food memoir (page 8) , and Rob Millard keeps the epicurean vibe rolling with a “Masterchef” review (page 22). Sadly, that grumpy granny is back with more useless chat - we relegated her to the back of the magazine again.

There’s plenty more, so give this page the flick and read on ... don’t forget, it’s the students who make Insight amazing, so keep the contributions coming!

‘Til next time!Emma

EDITOR’S NOTE

SECOND HAND BOOKSALE

Due to construction works adjacent to the HSA Office, book and money collection has been extended until Thursday Week 8. No exceptions will be made after this date.

If you do not come to collect your books and money by this time, both will be forfeited to the HSA as outlined in the terms and conditions on the Booksale website. Please note you will not

have received an email if your books have sold - it is up to you to check the status of your books. The office is open 10 - 2 Monday - Thursday.

If you have any concerns regarding the Booksale, please contact Treasurer Kate Timmerman at

kate.timmerman@student.bond.edu.au---------------

The HSA will hold a Special General Meeting on Thursday July 30 at 12noon in room 6_3_27. All HSS and other interested students are invited to attend.

Editor Emma Devlin Designer Callum Wood & Emma Devlin Cover Photo Ashleigh Peplow Ball

Want to contribute to Insight?Send through your work to emma.devlin@student.bond.edu.au

There’s a big wide world out there waiting to gobble us all up upon graduation. Contrary to popular belief, that world extends further even than Robina Town Centre – post-Bond life might land you in regional Queensland, interstate or even overseas. While we can rest assured the university will do its utmost to prepare us for said world, it is the experiences of past students who are showing life beyond the bubble what they’ve got which often proves most valuable.

Having polished off his Journalism degree in Semester 111, Jack Campbell is one such student, well and truly on his way to a big and bright future. Insight caught up with Jack to find out what it’s really like out there.

JACKTOTHEFUTURE

1. How did you end up studying at Bond?

My childhood dream was to own a video store. I loved that place so much. There used to be a TV in the store that played movies all day. It was brilliant. Looking back though, I’m pretty happy that dream died out early.

I grew up in a small country town in northern New South Wales called Inverell. I remember there was a period when people walked around town with bags which had ‘New York’, ‘London’, ‘Paris’, ‘Inverell’ written down the sides. I think that sums the place up pretty well – simple but proud.

I went through the public school system right through to grade 12. During my last few years I was undecided on what I wanted to do for a career. I’d always had a passion for writing, but I also wanted to be a doctor. When I started applying for courses, I was looking at medicine and journalism (a strange mix, I know). It was July 2007, my final year at school, when I saw a brochure for Bond. I remember reading about the John Burton Cadetship Scholarship program and thinking it was a dream come true. I applied, sat an interview, and got through to the next round. After a brief exam and interview, I found out two weeks before my Higher School Certificate that I’d be going to Bond.

2. You worked at the Gold Coast Bulletin while you were studying at Bond. Tell us about that.

My time at the Gold Coast Bulletin was part of the scholarship/cadetship I was awarded. I studied and worked on an alternating semester basis, studying one semester and working full-time the next.

My time at The Bulletin was the best start I could have asked for in journalism. Everyday was different. In my first week I’d gone from fatal car crashes to swimwear competitions at Conrad Jupiters. I wrote three to four articles a day, always vying to see my byline on the front page.

I spent the majority of my days interviewing people. Whether it was a police constable or Tony Hawk, I learnt to read people and ask the hard-hitting questions. I built so much confidence on the job, I felt I could interview anyone and not be intimidated. It gave me a great foundation for my professional and personal life.

3. What are you doing post-Bond and how did you get into it?

I graduated from Bond last month having finished my Bachelor of Journalism in semester 111. Six months ago, I started applying for graduate jobs. As part of my degree, I took my elective subjects in marketing and knew it was something I wanted to pursue.

After a night at Don’s Tavern, I decided I’d dedicate a few hours of my morning to job-searching. Using the grad websites that the Career Development Centre gave me, I came across a company called The Meltwater Group. I’d never heard of them. Their advertisement hit my like a slap in the face. It was punchy, unique and precisely what I was looking for.

I applied and the following Monday, I sat an hour phone interview. It turned out I’d applied just in time. They had group interviews the following day in Brisbane and they had shortlisted me for the top 16. On the train ride to Brisbane, I pored over my notes about the company. They described themselves as a SaaS (Software as a Solution) company. I had applied for the Meltwater News division. I went into the interview, not sure what to expect.

After a full day of presentations, tasks and personal interviews, I knew this job was perfect for me. It was a sales/business-to-business marketing role which focused primarily on generating new business for the company. The people were vibrant. The company was in exponential growth. I knew my ambition to move up in the business world would start here, so I gave it my everything. By the end of the week, I’d received a call to say I would be starting in May as an International Management Trainee.

4. So, what’s a typical day in your new career like?

My career is all about driving new business to the company. I identify and contact senior managers in companies before presenting our service to them. It’s exhilarating. I speak to people from all walks of life across all different sectors.

5. What was your favourite subject at Bond and why?

The Freelancing, Creative Non-Fiction subject would have to have been my favourite subject. I took it in my final semester and learnt so many new techniques. It was also the most interesting. I wrote an article on Muslim immigration after the boat of refugees crashed near Christmas Island and it ended up being published in the national Muslim newspaper.

6. In your current position, what was the most valuable subject you took at Bond and why?

My current job is not in journalism but I’ve found the skills I picked up in the Journalism Research Methods class to be most useful. The subject opened my eyes to the ways in which a journalist can generate leads and I’ve found myself applying similar techniques when identifying and contacting companies in my current role.

7. Just how different is the “real world” from the Bond bubble? What have you learnt and what is the most important lesson you have taken along the way?

Bond was always a different experience for me because I’d had a taste of the “real world” while working at The Bulletin and studying in Europe on exchange. But now that I’m officially on the other side, I feel that Bond gave me the best possible chance to get the ball rolling for an exciting future. Bond taught me I could achieve all of my dreams if I worked for them. As a result, I have the ability and the confidence to strive for the best in life, both professionally and personally.

8. Where to from here? What’s in the future for Jack Campbell?

I’ve been working full-time for nearly two months and I feel I have barely scraped the surface when it comes to my career. I’ve always had the drive to achieve great things and, with each opportunity that comes my way, I feel like I am constantly moving forward. I’ve had a great start to my career at Meltwater and I’m going to continue giving it everything I have. With 55 offices worldwide, I think the phrase “the world is your oyster” would be most suitable for my future.

Jack works as an International Management Trainee

in the Meltwater Group’s Brisbane office.

See www.meltwater.com

Ignoring signals from my brain to run out the door, my legs carry me to the stage with an air of fake confidence. “Have fun,” the MC hands me the microphone with an encouraging grin.Fun? Really? I can see why he’s a comedian. Adjusting my microphone stand, I squint against the harsh spotlight that masks most of the crowd in darkness. With relief, I note the light has made nearly all evidence of those lingering along the bar’s cream painted walls, or the huddled tables around the room, disappear. All I can see now is six or so faces closest to the stage, peering up at me with sceptical anticipation.This is it brain, don’t let me down now.“Hi everyone, my name’s Melinda, but you can call me Brenda.”

The idea of doing stand-up has always made my stomach turn. Speaking in public is nerve-wracking enough; why throw in the added pressure of a promise to make the audience laugh, too? It’s the same sudden pressure I feel when someone says, “you’re funny”, and on occasion throws in the “you should be a comedian.” For some reason, I immediately want to validate this compliment by making some sort of hilarious retort, so using my best comedic finesse I usually mumble a witty “thanks”.

What would it mean to stand in front of all those people with material I’d laboured over for weeks to only hear crickets chirping and empty beer glasses chinking together? How would I feel if people began to heckle and throw things at me? And most importantly, what if I couldn’t get the tomato and beetroot stains out of my clothing?

Regardless, here I am standing in front of the bright yellow and red banner that reads “Sit Down Comedy Club: Open Mic Night” on a makeshift stage barely half a metre off the ground. There is no backing out now.

Out of the six faces I can actually see, I quickly try to make a judgment on who will be kindest to me. To my left, reclining on a long lounge and coolly sipping red wine, is the comfortably-living-on-retirement-funds couple. Dressed in clothes designed to not appear showy whilst still managing to pull off an over-priced look, they seem as though they belong on a sailboat rather than in this dark and grimy bar. The women smiles at me, and I wonder if her eyes are showing kindness, or sympathy for my nervous state. Is it that obvious?

Then there’s the attentive woman in white sitting directly in front of me, leaning forward in her chair with intense anticipation. The look on her face makes me feel uneasy, as though she is daring me to fail. I have watched her previously, and noticed she seems to sit solemnly until the MC comes onto the stage. The MC is the only one who transforms her sullen face into uncontrollable laughter and cheering. I wonder if she came only to see him, and every other comedian is merely an annoying ad break she wishes she could mute. Either way, I decide to avoid her gaze.

Finally, there’s a young guy with dark skin over to my right, wearing a baseball cap, black suit pants, a long-sleeved mustard shirt and a smart looking button-up black vest. I heard the organisers talking about him before he arrived; apparently he is a talented musician and magician, going to try his hand at comedy for the first time tonight. He seems completely disinterested and even slightly bored, like he’s impatiently waiting for all these ‘other acts’ to hurry up so we can get to the main event: him.

SO YOU THINKYOU’RE FUNNY

By Melinda Jennings

Of course, this particular assumption is revealed to be a misconception almost immediately, as too-cool-to-be-here vest guy is the first to break into a smile at my Brenda joke. The quip is in reference to an earlier happening, when the MC called out to my friend and I asking our names. Although we said, “Brittany and Melinda”, what he heard, and referred to us as thereafter, was “Brittany and Brenda.” He had no idea we were laughing more at his mistake than at the spontaneous song he started singing us.

This is not the only spontaneity of the night. Much of what the MC says is off the top of his head, or at least so he makes it seem. I, however, am not schooled in the art of impromptu, particularly when I am nervous, so I stick almost scrupulously to my rehearsed monologue.

“Scientists recently did a study where they put chimps in front of a typewriter to see what they would type … and that’s actually how Ke$ha got the lyrics to her latest song.”

A ripple of chuckles breaks out across the room. It’s no roar of laughter and cheers as they carry me out into the street on their shoulders chanting my name, but it’s still uplifting. My first joke is down and my nerves have all but vanished. I actually feel as though it almost doesn’t matter if no one laughs at anything else I say.

I said almost.

One joke down, I tell myself. That wasn’t so bad. I feel myself relaxing in my powerful position behind the microphone, a sense of confidence setting in. With this instilled confidence I press on with my routine, and I feel the four minutes begin to rush by with ease. I’m careful to keep my pace steady, trying to engage with my audience as best I can.

“Nobody gets impressed by Tetris scores, I don’t know why … all I know is that’s six months of Tetris training I’ll never get back.”

Retired-and-relaxed woman gives me an encouraging smile to my left and, what was that? Was that a glimmer of a smile I see from intensely-scary down in front?

“When I was a kid, my parents took me to a Scottish psychiatrist … he had such a thick accent we still don’t know if I’m autistic or artistic.”

Vest-guy laughs again and turns to say something to his friend. For the first time I notice laughter from the darkness. Either the lingerers have finally woken up or my nerves have finally relaxed enough to let me be more observant of the rest of the crowd. To be honest, focussing on the six or so in front of me I had almost forgotten they were out there.

“Thank you,” I finish, and my legs carry me back to my seat a lot faster than they left it.

I smile with satisfaction, noting the absence of rotting fruit on my outfit. Despite several weeks of sick nervousness leading up to tonight, I have somehow managed to actually enjoy myself. And that’s what the illusive ‘they’ are always telling us is the main thing right – as long as you have fun, try your best and, most of all, laugh.

Especially if you’re in the crowd whilst I’m doing stand-up.

I am obsessed with street food. Grungy looking vendor balancing over an open sewerage pipe? I’m there. Stall perched dangerously on the side of the busiest highway in Asia? Count me in. Hawker stand with no refrigeration and a small rodent problem? What couldn’t end well!

When most people travel to South-East Asia, they spend a day or two in the big cities, treating Bangkok or Kuala Lumpur as transit stops for some shopping and a quick sight-see. These cities are messy, dirty, hectic, polluted and noisy. They are over-populated and under-planned. And what does a lot of people and limited organisation lead to? Street food.

I spend as much time as I possibly can in these crazy cities, walking the non-existent footpaths next to eight-lane highways, venturing deep into the sprawled suburbs and scoping laneways which run behind established restaurants. This is where the magic happens.

A lot of people shoot me strange looks when I say that my rule when travelling in Asia is to never eat where there is another tourist, but it has only ever resulted in miraculous culinary moments. The average person looks at the vendor with nothing more than a hot plate and some ice in a Styrofoam box keeping raw chicken cold, and automatically thinks “food poisoning”. I ask for five.

A general rule is if it’s busy, it’s going to be good. Chances are, the owner of the stand has been cooking the same dish, on the same corner, everyday for their whole lives. People don’t keep coming back to a vendor who is selling them dodgy food, let alone making them sick. With no refrigeration and sweltering conditions, the produce has to be fresh and when it isn’t anymore, it’s thrown out. This is a lot more than you can ask of most restaurants.

I have recently returned from Malaysia and Borneo, where I indulged in endless street food delights. There is no better way to start a day than sitting on a stool on the side of a road with an iced coffee in a plastic bag and a hot bowl of chicken rice. For morning tea, I grab a bag of deep fried sweet potato and banana. Lunch is thin egg noodles with sweet barbeque pork and fresh fruit with chilli sauce. Dinner? A pot luck curry, with the severe language barrier preventing me from determining exactly what is in it, but it is delicious nonetheless. After dinner, I indulge in a banana and Nutella roti and a watermelon juice.

Food cannot be separated from society; it is the history, identity, culture and people of a country in a delectable mouthful. To understand a country, you have to experience its food. By eating from the streets, you are supporting individuals as opposed to chains. You’re doing as the locals do and, as a result, being immersed in the culture of the area you are visiting. Best of all, it fits perfectly into a student’s budget – an iced tea will set you back 50c, roti canai $1.50 and curry with rice $2.

There is nothing that makes me sadder than seeing Western tourists in Asia sitting in a Starbucks sipping a frappe or squeezing in a cheeky double cheeseburger before heading into a department store or, worse yet, wandering into the Italian restaurant in the foyer of their hotel for dinner.

The next time you’re in Asia, I urge you to open your mind, scrape together the shrapnel from the bottom of your rucksack and hit the streets. Walk under bridges and behind shopping centres. Catch a bus or train to wherever it’s going, and walk around wherever it takes you, completely off the tourist track. I can guarantee you will not be disappointed - in all my experience, I’ve only ever had one rat-tail in my noodle soup … and I believe it added to the flavour.

- Ashleigh Peplow Ball

PHOTOBOOK: JAMES BASE

PHOTOBOOK: JAMES BASE

“I was told that if I ever returned, I had a bullet with my name on it.”

This is one type of phone call most people don’t expect. But for foreign correspondent Bob Howarth, phone calls like this are just part and parcel of being a journalist.Born in Mackay and educated at Indooroopilly State High School, Howarth had never planned on becoming a journalist. Two weeks before he was due to sign the final papers to become a helicopter pilot in the army, he responded to an ad for a position as a cadet reporter at the Courier Mail.“My friend and I had a bet going that I wouldn’t get the job, but I won the bet and I got the job,” Howarth recalls. “I was the first known private school cadet they had ever hired.” The only other journalist from Indooroopilly, he says, was ‘Georgie’ Negus who ended up in journalism only because of Howarth’s recommendation. “He was a trainee teacher at the time and I told him about the wonderful time I was having,” Howarth explains.After his two years as a cadet, Howarth’s next major stop was at the Northern Territory News, where he rose very quickly through the ranks to Chief Sub-Editor at the ripe age of 22. After three and a half years there, as well as a three-month stint as a buffalo shooter in Arnhem Land, Howarth became ‘itchy-footed’ and looked to the war overseas to cure the feeling. So, he made the voyage to Singapore and then Bangkok, finally settling down in Hong Kong where he became the Deputy Chief Sub-Editor at the China Mail. From there, he wanted to go where all Australian journalists were headed: London. Once there, Howarth worked at the Daily Sun for three weeks but says only two stories over that time just wasn’t enough. “We were just totally bored … there was so many people - it was total overkill,” he says. Just before Howarth hopped on a plane to Spain, though, The Times, impressed with the 25-year-old’s career so far, offered him a job as a reporter. “I learnt more about accuracy and fact-checking in that time than I ever had in the previous two years,” he says. From there, Howarth travelled once again but this time to the Pacific Islands where he worked as a correspondent and mentor to students. Then, with Papua New Guinea, East Timor and the Solomon Islands also ticked off the list, Howarth returned to Australia this year to take up the position of Foreign Correspondence lecturer and tutor here at Bond. This talented and incredibly humble man has truly seen and experienced it all. Howarth’s casual attitude when describing hectic situations conveys his wealth of knowledge and the incredible calibre of journalist he is. He is one of those rare individuals, and more importantly journalists, who relies on his gut. Not just for eating all the amazing food in the exotic locations he visits, but his gut instinct. That feeling you get when you know you’re in the right place at the right time.

TEACHER FEATURE:

BOB HOWARTH

- Sally Morris

HSS DEAN’S

AWARDSNIGHT

Andra Nasrie

1. Eliminate my fear

of dolphins and swim

with them2. Have Radiohead

perform live in my

living room

3. Hold a position of

great influence so I can

enforce communism

on the world

Maddy Cassidy1. Drink Patron with Lil Wayne2. Be Time Magazine’s Person of the Year3. Mardi Gras in New Orleans

Hardy Awadjie

1.Go to Antarctica

2. Fly to space

3. Trek to the base of

Mt Everest

Lauren Commens1. Take a massive world trip without using planes2. Walk Kokoda3. Be in Edinburgh for New Years Eve

Gabrielle Morriss1. Walk the Camino de Santiago in Spain2. Catch a 100cm+ Barramundi3. Watch a Territory Team (NT) play in the AFL

Samuel Nowland1. Have champagne vodkas with Lady Gaga in the Hall of Mirrors of the Palace of Versailles2. Be Tom Ford’s consultant and be paid in suits

3. Be young and fabulous in New York

What are the ultimate

three items on your bucket list?

Jorja Wallace1. Visit Estonia and Scotland to learn about my family’s heritage2. Write and publish a book3. Fall in love with an Irishman (preferably a Gerard Butler look-a-like)

Sam Kingsley

1. Visit every country

in the world

2. Heli-skiing in Alaska

3. Go skinny skydiving

James Chumbley

1. Pack my bags and

set off for a random

location with no

itinerary planned at all

2. Whip up the best

meal ever for my loved

ones3. Hit bulls-eye on a

dartboard

Boom Chamnarnkit

1. Travel to 50

countries in one year

2. Have a one-on-one

meeting with Richard

Branson regarding

taking over Virgin

3. Travel to the moon

Simon Stephen

1. Shelve something

illicit, at least once

2. Own a huge,

perfectly sorted walk-

in wardrobe with an

array of suits, shirts,

ties, belts and shoes

3. Have two wives:

my “real” one, and

my massive islander

one who I create my

awesome all-star rugby

-playing sons with

Anna-Louise Peterson1. Walk down a catwalk with Adriana Lima

2. Ski like an absolute pro down Mt Blanc3. Learn to play tennis by the one and only Roger Federer

MYTIMEWITHTHE

GANG

Allow me to share an awkward moment: just the other day, whilst walking across campus completely absorbed in my own little world, I found myself softly singing one of the catchiest lyrics I’ve come across in recent months. As I walked and sang, one or two passers-by shot me the same peculiar look. Now it wasn’t until after I’d sat back to down to my music that it hit me: the reason I was getting funny looks wasn’t because I’d spilt a little nude donkey down my shirt after lunch at the bra, or because my hair had exceptional bounce and volume that afternoon. Rather, it was because these people had walked past a tall, gangly white kid, dressed a little preppy and with a big smile on his face, happily singing the lyrics “Kill people burn shit f**k school/I’m f*****g radical I’m motherf****g radical. ”

Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All is a 10-member rap crew from Los Angeles. In real life they are teenagers, music producers, skate kids, pseudo-non-conformists. On record, they are frustrated anarchists, murderers, rapists; outcasts raging against the authority they resent, the parents they were abandoned by, and the society and industry they apparently couldn’t take less seriously. Their music is confronting, offensive, and isn’t just the anti-establishment hip-hop reminiscent of groups like N.W.A, but instead aims to shock you with its depravity, violence, and incessant stabs at Bruno Mars (literally).

Want to know a strange thing? People like it. While OFWGKTA have been releasing free mixtapes for a good while now, the buzz building on the back of their appallingly charismatic ‘leader’ Tyler, the Creator and a few crazy television performances (YouTube “Sandwitches Jimmy Fallon”) has the gang selling out bigger venues by the month all over the world. Another even crazier thing? When I found out they’d be hitting the Brisbane Hi-Fi earlier this month, I couldn’t think of a good reason not to go and check them out.

On the way to the show, I was preoccupied by two thoughts: what kind of crowd and what kind of show could I expect (especially given that the implied demographic might just be too inconvenienced by prison to make it)? Good for me that I enjoyed the answer to both questions, for while every annoyingly shin-bearing, moustache-clad hipster in Brisbane (girls included – “it was on this one website only I read called The Sartorialist okay?”) turned up for the concert, it was just so fantastic to see Odd Future come out and literally jump on their heads. Tyler and his associate Hodgy Beats made their entrance at the start of the show by stalking on stage in ski masks before making their initial (there would be so many more) feet-first dives into the seething crowd. From here, the whole gang turned up, minus R&B superstar-in-the-making Frank Ocean and 16-year old Earl Sweatshirt (he’s in prison), to scream at, rap to, jump on, throw shit at, and dance for the crowd, inspiring them to new levels of frenetic fist-flinging glory. C

ALE

B C

ON

NO

R

Standing on the edge of the moshpit as I was, I spent just as much time thinking about the scene unfolding in the Hi-Fi as I did pushing sweaty hipsters over in time with the beats. There was a strange irony in being actually disturbed by the way the geeky, slightly creepy teenager behind me threw himself at the crew, singing every perverse lyric, while at the same time knowing I listen to these songs at home, talk about them with friends, and fuel the buzz that keeps Odd Future going by paying to go and see them. After all, this is the “Saw” series through headphones, the Grand Theft Auto games on radio. We condemn the violence and its impact on the kids, yet can’t keep our filthy minds from finding some dark entertainment in the squalor.

FITCHY’S FLICKS20 years from now, what films will we be showing our kids? Will we be screening the classics such as Disney epics, “Star Wars”, and to a lesser extent, “Apocalypse Now”? Or, are their present gems all around us but we just don’t know it yet? “Super 8”, I believe, is one of those gems which will shine on in the hearts of future generations and here’s why: it’s basically “ET” on crack. Directed by JJ Abrams (the man responsible for the recent “Star Trek” re-boot and the ever so confusing “Lost” series),

“Super 8” is somewhat of a tribute to the Summer Blockbusters Spielberg was responsible for, and I’m sure Spielberg wouldn’t mind given that he is the producer of this sci-fi adventure.

Set in a small American town, a gang of kids are shooting a short film when a train has a head-on collision with a truck. However, this is no ordinary crash. The town is quickly overrun by the army, starts to suffer electrical faults and, without giving too much away, something is lurking around in the shadows. The group of kids begin unravelling the mystery and, the closer they are to the truth, the more they dig themselves into danger. The first thing you need to give this film credit for is how it captures the essence of the classic Spielberg films. Following the story of the kids is one of these aspects and it’s just plain downright awesome. They are all incredibly likeable, hilarious and there isn’t even that one kid you wish would just shut the hell up. However, it is the two young main characters, Joe Lamb (Joel Courtney) and Alice Dainard (Elle Fanning), who steal the show. Even though there is no weak performance by any member of the cast, these two little prodigies will definitely print their performances in your mind. The chemistry between them is so stupid adorable it makes you sick, and it wouldn’t surprise me if their careers as actors evolve into long and prosperous ones.

“Super 8’”s production value definitely pays off – the action scenes are unbelievable, in an extremely good way, and the sound design, editing and visual mind blowing-ness are enough to give a small dog a heart attack. Abrams does not fall into the trap of relying on the visuals to display a good film which is a major positive as you still stay completely engrossed in the story. While “Super 8”’s narrative is not in any way unique, all of the set-ups are paid off so there are no unanswered questions, the characters are interesting and you will leave the cinema completely satisfied as if you have just consumed a delectable feast.

4.5/5- James Fitchett

Bond University – home to the Bond Burn Out. One of the first facts I was told about being a Bond student was that we have less holidays than the Australian Army. Not an ideal situation for young minds trying to bring their ambition to life. Three semesters a year, 15 weeks a semester, two weeks off and repeat. What is that keeps us Bondies going? Well, aside from our extremely good looks ... it’s MOTIVATION.A lack of motivation can wreak havoc in many areas of our lives. Whilst I am going to impart some wisdom as to how to maintain your motivation when it comes to fitness, the broad concepts below can be adapted to ensure a continuing desire to succeed in all of life’s little scenarios.Motivating yourself to keep fit, build muscle and eat right can be hard work. The motivation to stay is an effort all on its own. It takes planning, concentration and hard work but hopefully the following will ease your worries.Whether it is motivation to get started or motivation to maintain where you’ve reached, here are five of the best tips I’ve encountered in striving to stay motivated to reach my fitness goals.

1. JUST GET STARTEDAs blatantly obvious as it is, you can’t get anywhere if you don’t start. Simple – get up and get something started. You will feel much better once you have begun and that simple step makes the rest all that much easier. To get up and going, begin with simple exercises that you enjoy. Perhaps it’s a walk around the lake, a Zumba class with your friends, or a cheeky game of touch rugby. Make yourself a plan and stick to it. Fitness is much less daunting once you have begun. Welcome to the game.

2. VARIETYWhilst the best place to start is with the exercises and routines that you enjoy, once you hit a plateau it can also be a downfall. The thought of repeating yourself for the near future can and will strike fear into even the most fanatical fitness-goer. Learn to change up your routine. This can be a different route on your morning jog or attending several of the many classes on offer at the Sports Centre. The more variety, the better your body will react and the higher your enjoyment levels. Our bodies take between four-eight weeks to adapt and produce results to a new routine. Keep that in your thoughts and look to change up somewhere within that timeline. If toughing it out on the gym floor is your cup of tea, try new exercises to push the same muscles. If you are unsure of different exercises, you’ll find my next tip even more important.

MOTIVATIONMAINTENANCE

Michael Puhle

3. GET SOME ADVICEGyms can be daunting places. Chunky, sweaty guys lifting heavy weights and watching themselves in the mirror is enough of a turn-off for anyone. But have some empathy - those same gym junkie threats can also be your mentors. They all started as naive as you may feel and these people can impart great knowledge to help you with your work out. Don’t be afraid to ask for a spot or a quick tip of advice. People who work out have endorphins spiralling through their system and will no doubt be more than welcoming to a newcomer wishing to soak up their thoughts and experience. If the thought of approaching “The Hulk” is still too much for you, I heavily endorse asking the personal training staff at the Sports Centre. They are highly experienced people who gain fulfilment from helping with your success.

4. WORK OUT WITH A PARTNERNow I can tell you’re feeling it, controller of your own fitness destiny... time to get some friends involved. Not only are you introducing a healthier lifestyle to one of your lovelies but you can feed off the motivation of one another. You’ll find that even on those painful days where removing yourself from a delightful “Ellen” episode is the last thing you want to do, the idea of letting down a friend with whom you have a planned session is much harder then turning off everyone’s favourite daytime TV host.

5. CREATE MEANINGFUL GOALSMy final tip is my favourite. No doubt you want to tear through iron like Arnie or saunter a silhouette to rival Gisele, but aiming that high is a recipe for disappointment. Baby steps are a much healthier way to start. Begin with goals that are attainable. Perhaps you want to lose a certain amount of weight? Start with four or five kilograms and increase once you have reached the first goal. Maybe you want to create more strength? Begin with small increases in weight and slowly build up to that ultimate lift. An important part of goal-setting is to reward yourself when one is reached. Give yourself a day off, take a few compliments from the opposite sex, or let yourself loose on a Thursday at Don’s. Thrive in the ambience of your own success. Rewarding your small achievements will just encourage you to achieve even more.

I’ll leave you with this gem of advice which, sadly, is not my own. I once read it on a Fitness First wall and I’m not sure why I like it but, for me, it just works:

‘Motivation creates habit. Once your fitness routine is a habit... you’ll have conquered Motivation Maintenance.’

I adore television. Plain and simple. My friends are often astonished at the amount of TV I watch and some would say my watching habits border on obsession, but I choose to think of them as strategic procrastination and a necessity for my sanity. There’s one key ingredient to being able to watch all the TV you want: don’t study. It’s a well-proven technique for success.

In any case, my penchant for TV centres on reality TV. Watching Kim, Khloe and Kourtney squabble, or indulging in the dramas of Heidi and Spencer, or strapping in for re-runs of “Laguna Beach” … there’s always an element of entertainment. But it’s the reality competition shows that are at the top of my TV watching list: fatties suffering at the training of Shannon and Michelle, or couples on the edge of a domestic as they renovate hideous apartments in hideous ways. But the crème de la crème, the pièce de résistance is, of course, “Masterchef”.

Tuning in six times a week to see stressed amateur cooks and outrageous challenges is a thing of beauty. The trio of judges remain as impressive as ever: Matt Preston, with an endless wardrobe of cravats and make-up applied to his pallid features, bouncy George Calombaris as punny as ever, and imposing Gary Mehigan whose love of eating rivals his skills in cooking.

One thing lacking in this third season of Masterchef, however, is a real stand-out contestant. I don’t know if it’s because the cooking itself has been overshadowed by the sheer enormity of the challenges or perhaps the nation’s quota of amateur cooks in dwindling, but I have been left somewhat underwhelmed.

Nonetheless, there remains a frustrating ridiculousness associated with the show. The opening credits help you decide who your favourites are. I know you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but when I see Sun breaking that loaf of bread in half, her eyes desperate to break contact with the camera, I cannot help but feel uncomfortable and a twinge of dislike.

Even more frustrating is the editing. The number of times the parameters of a challenge are repeated for the audience in the commentary of the judges or that of the contestants is unbelievable. If ever you’re late home, you’ll be able to pick up what’s happening right away! The lead-in to the ad breaks is something to behold: the epic fire explosion, at the most inconvenient of times. They could rival the eight-month pregnant pauses on “Dancing with the Stars” in terms of sheer annoyance

They should have also really talked to Channel 10 about advertising. After my mouth is salivating at the often delicious looking food (which also prompts a need for smell-o-vision), advertisements for female-related hygiene quickly evaporates any hunger I feel. I’m sorry, but light bladder-leakage really isn’t conducive to my vicarious viewer experience.

But despite all this, “Masterchef” remains a thoroughly enjoyable show. The meltdowns and dramas of food presentation, which confirm for me that I have no desire whatsoever to be a chef, provide some great entertainment. You become vested in your favourites, irritated by your least favourites, but most importantly, dedicated to religiously viewing. It just has a winning formula for reality TV.

- Robert Millard

TIPS FOR THE YOUNGGENERATION

with Nanna

Think about your typical Thursday, Friday or Saturday night. Think about all three if you like. Now think about the morning after. Breathe in the Jager stain on your new dress, taste the kebab-flavoured wake-up burp, feel the invisible vice screwed into your temples, hear the ringing in your ears from too much doof-doof, and give that new bruise sustained from an ungracious fall down nightclub stairs, a little nudge. Tell me, young hooligan, is it all worth it?

When I was a little girl, there was no such thing as i-doodads, coke was a delicious beverage that made us a little bit silly, and the preferred weekend evening activity was watching that handsome Daryl Somers on “Hey, Hey It’s Saturday”. They were the good old days and I can’t help but tsk-tsk at the debauched antics of today’s youth. Try as I might, though, I can’t stop you kids from drinking shots with such outrageous monikers as Slippery Nipple (something sustained from a messy breastfeeding session in my day) or from placing illicit substances in inappropriate orifices (it’s all fun and games until someone gets a catheter) … but I can impart my grandmotherly wisdom-infused advice to make the pain just a little easier to bear. Not that you deserve it.

Drink: I’ve heard it said that there’s plenty of water in beer but, regardless of the aqua/alcohol ratio of your beverage of choice, and irrespective of whether it’s one cheeky drink or a binge session you’re indulging in, alcohol will dehydrate you. As soon as you totter through your (yes, your own please) door, guzzle at least 500ml of water and make sure you have plenty more next to the bed for the ensuing pass-out. My younger counterparts tell me this one is only for Nannas, but it really does pay to have a glass or two of H2O while you’re on the drink, too.

Eat: I don’t know from experience, but I hear that a hangover screams out for grilled cheese, peanut butter on crumpets and double-glazed donuts. My tip? Don’t. Prepare for your carbohydrate, fat and sugar cravings with some comparably healthier options. I have a lovely recipe for sultana scones which would go down a treat with a smattering of low-joule raspberry jam or, if it’s savoury you desire, a wholesome quiche Lorraine ticks all the right boxes and will leave you feeling better in the long run.

Do: While it might be tempting to lie in bed all day with a bucket in reaching distance, you would be astounded with what good fresh air and sunshine can do for the abused soul. Get up, take the maximum dose of your preferred painkiller, work through the above steps to nurture your body, then get outside for a (slow but steady) walk and some good old-fashioned oxygen healing.

If, after taking Nanna’s advice, you still feel like Indian takeaway and a Baskin & Robbins sundae in front of a C-grade DVD, go ahead ... but, in the words of my own parents when I was a young lass wanting to wear my skirt just a little shorter to the local dance, one day you’ll thank me.

EUROTRIP:PART 1

- Andrew Dennis

For those of you who don’t know me, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Andrew Dennis and, unfortunately for you, I am absent from Bond this semester. My travel mate, Jack Morphet, and I were viciously attacked by what is commonly referred to as “The Travel Bug” late in 2010. So, as a result, we are currently living the good life of travellers.

Mid last year, Jack and I sat down to work out the logistics and dynamics of our trip. Jack put forward the question: Is this trip going to be a ‘Rowan Kendall history tour’ or a ‘Van Wilder party tour’? We agreed on the idea of having a healthy balance of the two – but, of course, with a slight tilt towards the party!

Now at the beginning of week three of our Eurotrip, I can tell you we were not expecting to find ourselves so interested in the history of this fascinating part of the world. Names, dates and unfathomable stories have left us speechless and eager to learn more. With over half of our journey still to go, we already have 46 dates written down to go home and research, 33 names of people, places and interests we have to know more about, and we have even purchased four books on German history. For those of you who know us, this is rare! So, what is it that has caused us to dive head-first into this pool of history?

It all began in the Bavarian capital of Munich. On our first day, we found a tour company that runs trips out to Dachau, the first of Hitler’s concentration camps. I have always been of the opinion that a trip to Germany would be incomplete without visiting one of these camps, of which there were around 1,200 by the end of World War II. Consequently, we set out with our tour guide, and a group of about 10 other tourists (no Americans thankfully!). What we saw and experienced at the camp was not just sad - it was too difficult to comprehend to be sad. Having said that, the experience did make me feel sick. From the moment I walked in the gates inscribed with the words ‘Work Sets You Free’, until the moment I left Dachau, I felt nauseous. We visited roll call square where, at 6:00 each morning, prisoners had to line up at military attention, sometimes in snow up to their waists. 20,000 prisoners lined up in the square - that’s almost the population of my whole home town of Warrnambool. We visited the registrations building where each prisoner was showered, shaved and presented with their uniform - the infamous blue and white striped ‘pyjamas’. We visited the bunkers where prisoners were tortured in the most terrifying ways. Each night, prisoners were presented with a blunt knife or rope and told that they were to kill themselves. Other forms of torture included being locked away in dark cells for months at a time and then, on a bright day, prisoners were taken outside and exposed to the sunlight, causing instant blindness. Some prisoners were kept in cells so small that it was impossible to stand and impossible to sit. This left them in cramped positions for days until the pressure caused their spine to crack. The most horrifying part is that this is not an extensive list and many other horrendous acts took place. The last stop on our tour was the gas chamber and crematorium. The experience is something that I cannot explain and won’t try to - I think most people know its function.

Dachau was an extraordinary place of terror under Nazi control and today, it is a memorial to those who lost their lives in its grounds. The experience was so difficult to comprehend but filled us with a greater understanding of the extremity of the horror of the treatment of prisoners. The stories we were told about the people who protested against the Nazis were unbelievable, as some of them were just students, like you and I. I’ll leave you with one example - Sophie and Hans Scholl, two students who were eventually beheaded for the heroic acts. Google them and perhaps you will be inspired.

EUROTRIP:PART 1

Friday Week 8