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Stories to tell: ABC betrays the nationby Mark Makowiecki
On the 18th of November, The Guardian Australia, in concert with the national broadcaster, published revelations that over a 15-day period in August 2009, the Defence Signals Directorate (now the Australian Signals Directorate) attempted to tap the mobile phone of the Indonesian President, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, and those belonging to others in his inner circle.
The material was first obtained by The Guardian newspaper in May, from leaks provided by the fugitive computer specialist Edward Snowden, a former NSA contractor who has since been granted temporary asylum in Russia.
The revelations have created grave ructions in the Australia-Indonesia relationship, with Australian flags and effigies of Tony Abbott being burnt on Indonesian streets. Furthermore, security co-operation has been indefinitely suspended. These developments come on
the back of an already tense political atmosphere, caused by Indonesia’s refusal to take responsibility for a boatload of asylum seekers collected within its search-and-rescue zone by HMAS Ballarat on November 7.
ABC Managing Director Mark Scott has defended the decision to publish the information, claiming it was in the public – to be distinguished from national - interest. He’s also denied queries as to whether he’d ‘sat’ on the story. Yet one cannot help but suspect that the decision was politically motivated; intended to cause maximum damage to the prospects of a recently elected Abbott government. As The Australian’s columnist Janet Albrechtsen noted, the ABC, “by acting as a free public megaphone for a commercial outfit, [has] plainly made a political rather than an editorial decision.”
Speaking of editorial decisions, the ABC’s sympathies concerning asylum seekers is
well known. Having by-and-large ignored the 50,000 irregular arrivals to our north during six years of Labor government, it has now established a website logging such arrivals; a move which actively undermines the Coalition’s strategy of depriving the smugglers of their ‘shipping news’, information which they use to both recruit passengers and secure payment. The divulgence of sensitive intelligence material by the ABC marks its most cynical effort yet to sabotage the government’s electoral mandate. Nevertheless, the Coalition’s policy, in affect for just two months, has led to a 75 percent decline in previous numbers.
With the security relationship of the two countries cooling rapidly, and with 300 Islamists set for imminent release from Indonesian jails, has not the ABC put Australian lives at risk, all for the sake of furthering its blinkered political agenda?
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Heavenly Father, You inflamed your priest and martyr,
Saint Maximilian Kolbe,with love for the Immaculate Virgin and filled him with zeal for souls and
love of neighbour. Through his prayers grant that we may
work unreservedly for your glory
in the service of men and thereby become like Christ your Son
until death.Amen.
Disclaimer: The views expressed within are those of the individual authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Sextant Editorial Board, the CCSA, or Campion College Australia.
Published by the Campion College Student Association8-14 Austin Woodbury Place, Old Toongabbie 2146 NSW Australia
CCSA ELECTIONS
The new board members of the Campion College Student Association were elected for 2014. Former Treasurer Robert van Gend ( r igh t ) s t eps in to Mi r i am Thompson’s place of President, Monica Ochudzawa passes the role of Secretary to Elyse Burns (centre), and Jock Power (left) fills the position of Treasurer.
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by Christian Bergmann
This article could be considered a primer on the Catholic Charismatic Renewal. There are not enough words to do this topic justice, but, regardless, it needs to be addressed. There is a lot of confusion a b o u t w h o m a n d w h a t p r e c i s e l y “charismatics” are. Opinions differ. Many people’s perceptions, however, are blurred by misconceptions and stereotypes. Therefore, the air needs to be cleared and a wholesome understanding needs to be acquired before forming an opinion on the subject. The intention of this article is to present the charismatic renewal as it is -devoid of stereotypes - and explain the precious position it has in the Catholic Church.
First of all, however, it must be asked: what does it mean to be “charismatic”? Well, even in the secular sense of the word, what connotations does it have? Charismatic people are often those who possess a compelling charm that inspires others to follow in tow. They are often e x t r a v e r t e d a n d f l a m b o y a n t a n d captivating. A word that encapsulates all of this, I think, is ‘spirited’. To be a charismatic person is to be someone who is, above all, spirited in word and action. If I may be somewhat playful with this description, I would like to propose that the same applies to the Christian notion of “charismatic”. A charismatic Christian is someone who lives and breathes in and from the very source of life itself: the Spirit of the Living God. Therefore, all Christians are charismatic, really. The Cathol ic Church i s , by nature , a charismatic Church. However, the title “charismatics” is often in reference to those belonging to a particular movement within the Church, dubbed the Catholic Charismatic Renewal. This movement is beloved to many, confusing to many more, and regarded with disdain by others. In order to understand this blossoming movement, the air needs to be cleared of what it is not. Fear and caution is struck into the hearts of many traditionalist Catholics, as this renewal carries the familiar scent of Pentecostalism. With the expressive hand gestures during worship, the miraculous healings, the strange tongues and the prophetic words, how could this be anything other than an infiltration of the irreverent, liberal, modernist, emotionalist, Pentecostal hippies into Catholicism? More to the point, how could something like this be embraced and celebrated by the Church hierarchy? Since the birth of this renewal in the wake of the Second Vatican Council, the pontiffs have expressed a high regard and excitement for the opportunity it brings to the Church. Pope Paul VI said: “Nothing is more necessary for such a world, more and more secularised, than the testimony of this ‘spiritual renewal’” (19/05/1975). Pope John Paul II was convinced that this was a “particular gift of the Holy Spirit to
the Church” (14/3/1992). Upon witnessing “how many people have rediscovered faith, the joy of prayer, the power and beauty of the Word of God, translating all this into generous service in the Church’s mission”, the former Holy Father wondered “How can we not give thanks
for the precious spirituals fruits that the Renewal has produced in the life of the Church and in the lives of so many people?” (4/4/1998). Pope Benedict XVI, too, sensed that this renewal was something the world desperately needed, as well as the Church. He is a man surpassed by none in regard to his orthodox credentials. He described this resurgence as bursting forth even within the “heart of a world imbued with rational skepticism”. In the preface to Cardinal Suenens’ book on the topic, the then Cardinal Ratzinger urged people to embrace this renewal, to “welcome it fully”. In a later address as pope, he considered it a great blessing that this movement made “praise to the Lord a new way of life” (31/10/2008). This renewal even has its own office within the Church. The International Catholic Charismatic Renewal Services (ICCRS) is a private association of the faithful, recognized by the Pontifical Council for the Laity, located in Rome. It acts as a centre to serve this worldwide awakening and maintain a beautiful relationship with the Holy See. Despite the ecclesiastical support the movement’s been given, it must still be asked: what is it? What does this word “renewal” even mean? This charismatic renewal that has swept the global church over the past fifty years has no leader, nor founder. It is not a single, unified movement. It has no membership list. I n s t e a d , a s a n i n i t i a t i v e c l e a r l y orchestrated by the Holy Spirit, it is an opportunity. The advocates of this renewal invite people to encounter the living Christ in a new, fresh and personal experience through that same Spirit. It is an invitation into a new and reawakened life in the Spirit that was given to a
believer at baptism. This is manifested often, but not necessarily, in the manifold gifts with which the Spirit graces the Church. Saint Paul describes these gifts in 1 Corinthians 12:4-11. Speaking in tongues, miracles, healings, prophetic words – as ton ish ing ye t insp i red “manifestations of the Spirit for the common good” (1 Cor. 4:7). This renewal, the pontiffs saw, has created a deeper thirst for holiness, an intense love for the Scriptures, and it has fostered a richer sacramental and liturgical life amongst the faithful. It has also re-energized the evangelical efforts of the Church, rebirthing the missionary zeal that was a primary characteristic of the primitive Church. It continues to draw myriad lost and broken souls into a relationship with Jesus Christ and establish them in His family. It is not the slightest bit Pentecostal. This is authentically Catholic. It must also be noted that it has been dubbed a “renewal” for a reason. It is because this life in the Spirit of God is intrinsic to Catholic identity. It hasn’t always been allowed to flourish (due to a natural trepidation in the face of wayward Protestant communities). However, the charismatic expression of worship is something authentically Catholic and authentically biblical. When the apostles were charged with the fire of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, some of the first things they did was to speak in tongues and p r o p h e s y ( A c t s 2 : 4 - 2 1 ) . T h e s e manifestations were evidence of God’s action in the life of believers. This charismatic expression is a sacred tradition of the Catholic Church and needs to be considered as such. It is not just confined to historical events, imprisoned within the past, but something that needs to be constantly flourishing in the Church. Those be long ing to the Ca tho l i c Charismatic Renewal are not part of a divergence from traditional Catholic values, but are, in fact, upholding a very beautiful spiritual tradition treasured by the Church. Charismatics, then, should not be regarded with the same skepticism as people regard Pentecostalism. It is a spiritual tradition that has roots embedded deep within the Scriptures and the Church, and is a source of renewal and awakening for the Church, particularly in this modern period. It is not a pursuit of a purely emotional experience, nor is it an excessive pursuit of the extraordinary. It is the reawakening of the faithful to live by the Spirit of God dwelling within them, however that manifests itself, so that the believer can grow in a deeper and more authentic relationship with Christ in the Church, nurtured by the sacraments and the Scriptures, and in alliance with the Magisterium.
This is something to be celebrated.
On the Catholic Charismatic Renewal
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by Mark Makowiecki
Earlier this month, as part of Sydney’s Festival of Dangerous Ideas, the ABC televised its panel-discussion program Q&A from the Sydney Opera House. As one now invariably expects, the panel was comprised of left-wing ideologues with a token conservative thrown into the mix. What made this episode more interesting than most was that the conservative voice belonged to Peter Hitchens. The debate at times gave intimations of the days when Christians were the sport of lions, with his rare and forthright moral stance providing the pivot upon which 5700 spectators, ably assisted by three antagonists, felt inspired to humour and attack him simultaneously.
The transformation of the Opera House from a place of high culture to cesspit of vulgarity was symbolic of the radical cultural shift Hitchens described during the show. Gay ‘sexpert’ Dan Savage unwittingly affirmed the view whilst contesting it, claiming “people are freer now, happier now, it’s a less intolerant world than it used to be because people like me are now empowered to look at people like you and say you are full of s***!” Yet, as a worrisome portent for Christians and the liberal-minded, the statement garnered him sustained applause and Hitchens, in attempting a reply, was drowned out. Such a herd-like display, hinting of a Reichsparteitag, was symptomatic of the moral naïveté afflicting parts of the populace. Its disdainful, yet persistent, fascination with Christianity and its apologists shone through. “It’s a rally” said Hitchens, “While you do this I cannot talk. …And you know it. And that’s to your shame because silencing opponents is a very wicked thing to want to do.” Georgina Dent, writing after the show on womensagenda.com.au, sided with the mob: “[Hitchens’] views were so dripping with elitism, superiority and intolerance that I couldn’t quite believe my ears. …As the show wore on my response developed into visceral anger. [Yet] not all of my anger is directed at him. Some of it is aimed at the ABC, for giving him and his abhorrent views a platform in the first place.”
This would have come as no surprise to Hitchens, who learned of the Left’s censorial bent during his days as a Trotskyite. Yet having long-since ceded the culture war, Hitchens’ admitted to only a modest goal, “All I seek to do is to tell the truth about you and what you want while it’s still allowed to do so, because you are so fantastically intolerant.” Savage, in retort, accused Hitchens of paranoia and of ‘projecting’ his intolerance onto his opponents, which Hitchens, in turn, alleged was indicative of the insidious philosophy of the gay agenda: “This is the intolerance: because I hold an opinion different from his, he has become, suddenly, a qualified psychoanalyst who can tell me that my
opinions are not opinions which I am entitled to hold but are a pathology, and this is the absolute seedbed of totalitarianism, when you start believing that the opinions of other people are a pathology, then you are in the beginning of the stage that leads to the secret police and the gulags.”
And if we were left in any doubt as to Savage’s hypocrisy, the final question posed on the night resolved it. Audience member Lisa Malouf asked, ““Which so-called dangerous idea … would have the greatest potential to change the world for the better if it were implemented?” The sexpert’s pearl of wisdom? “Oh my God…population control, there’s too many goddamn people on the planet [audience applause]. I’m pro-choice, I believe women should have a right to control their bodies, sometimes in my darker moments I’m anti-choice. I think abortion should be mandatory for about 30 years.” One would expect a freedom-loving audience to respond with shock. But no, it responded with laughter. Thus something Hitchens had said earlier in the night took on a greater ring of truth, “Future generations will look on our treatment of children as we look on the Victorians for sending children up chimneys, they will be amazed at the cruelty and neglect which we show to our children when we were so rich!”
Savage has since retreated from his call for mandatory abortion. Yet the usurpation of power over unborn life, he rightly claims, was first and foremost championed by heterosexual couples. The widespread use of contraceptives within marriage meant that the begetting of children in the 20th century became somewhat of an ‘optional extra’; meaning that the changing definition of marriage was long underway before the gay movement ever sought to commandeer it. Hence Savage’s claim that nowadays, “marriage can be monogamous or not, it can have children or not, it can be for life or not, it can be religious or not … two people get to create their marriage for themselves” is a view many hold to be self-evident. The unravelling of marriage into meaninglessness, said Hitchens, is making it irrelevant to the post-Christian West.
Q & A Debate: Hitchens vs Savage
Gary Ablett: Great player, great guy
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by Peter McCumstie
Just the other day I was jolted from my habitual Facebook stupor when I saw the title of a link that had been shared by a friend. It was about Gary Ablett Jr. For those of you who don’t know, Gary Ablett is a football superstar. Walk into any pub in Melbourne on a weekend and ask the patrons who they rate as the best player of the past twenty years, and pretty soon you’ll get tired of hearing his name over and over. Ablett’s supreme athleticism, skill, game-smarts and determination only seem to grow with successive seasons, so it’s no surprise that he’s now a two-time premiership player, a dual Brownlow medallist, and even in the opinion of opposition players has merited the descriptions of “freak”, “legend”, “superstar” and “unstoppable”. What surprised me on this occasion, however, was that for once it was not Ablett’s magic feet that were the centre of attention… So what was it that Gary Ablett did that even in the sensational world of football proved exceptionally attention-grabbing? On Thursday night’s (19/11) The Footy Show – big audience – he simply acknowledged that he put faith, not football, at the centre of his life. “My faith is everything to me,” he said simply. Asked to speak more about this, Ablett revealed an unusual feature of the culture at the Gold Coast Suns football club: “We have a Life Group during the week where we all get together, and it’s a place where the boys can come along and we talk about issues in our life that we’re struggling with. That’s basically what it is. We pick up the Bible, we read the Bible, and we pray.” Before a game, “we have a bit of a prayer session, and we get out there and enjoy our footy.”After watching this link, I was stunned. I couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. I was filled with respect for a
champion of the game who obviously has a sincere concern for the wellbeing of his players. And I wasn’t pleased just on account of the fact that Ablett and his players chose to draw on the immensely rich Christian tradition, and that I just happen to be Christian as well. Even if it hadn’t been the bible that they were reflecting on, I still would have applauded. What earned my admiration was the mere fact that Ablett Jr as a leader was attentive to the spiritual wellbeing of his players, however that might be conceived. This is a man who by now could easily have lost perspective of what really matters in life, but hasn’t.Football is a world of its own. It’s filled with glamour, prestige, money and fame. Unfortunately, for many young men especially, the fantasy of being a great footballer is associated with fan-worship, a huge salary, and having your pick of the girls. There’s been no shortage of football scandals in the past few years to show that the sudden acquisition of cash and fame can send young men completely off the rails of basic decency. Then there’s the dangerous mentality of ‘winning at all costs’. Both the
AFL and NRL seasons have been dominated by the news of alleged performing enhancing substances. We don’t really know how bad these substances could prove to be for the long-term health of the players.There are countless other examples that could illustrate my point: football’s a place where people have been known to lose perspective.Gary Ablett Jr – who by now could have begun thinking of himself as some kind of demi-god – has not lost perspective. His simple words on The Footy Show sent an important message. Even the greatest of footballers can acknowledge the game for what it is – a game. Football is a great form of recreation, it’s a beloved national pastime, and treated in the right way it can help young people to mature and learn valuable life skills. But it should always defer to things of more importance, one of these being spiritual wellbeing.
This article was originally published on Campion College Blog, tothecore.com.au, September 24.
Campion wins debate competition
In its third consecutive win, Campion has defea ted two formidable opponents, in Notre Dame and the Australian Catholic University. Many thanks to Thomas Westenberg and Meg Gale (Debating President and Secretary) for their hard work co-o r d i n a t i n g t h e d e b a t e s . T h e competition’s repeat in 2014 is awaited with anticipation.
President’s Plate
Campion’s annual round robin s o c c e r c o m p e t i t i o n , t h e President’s Plate, saw team De La Salle (led by Jacob Fulop) raise the Plate in victory, having defeated finalist Bede. Thanks to co-ordinator Peter O’Donovan, Sports Representat ive, for delivering an enjoyable day.
Farewell Fr McFadden
Having served the college admirably while Fr Luke Holohan is away on sabbatical, Fr Thomas McFadden OFM will be offering Mass in the chapel one las t t ime (foreseeably, anyway!) to close out the academic year. On behalf of the student body, the Sextant team would like to thank you, Fr Thomas, for being at the service of our souls this past semester.
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Cheeseby Miriam Thompson
“Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese” says G.K. Chesterton in his essay Cheese (the preface to The Neglect of Cheese in European Literature which was never actually written). Chesterton lists only Virgil and an anonymous nursery-rhymer to have made reference to cheese in their works. While I think he may have missed a couple of others, I do agree with his sentiments, and I fear that it is not only poets who have been silent on the topic. For how often do we hear any praise of cheese, as it is due? Not often; not often enough! Thus I address it with the acclamation which it deserves.
My interest in the subject began when I first ate the food in my childhood, probably with an olive or on a cracker. I must note, with reference to the unquestionable taste of Chesterton, that cheese was only ever to be eaten with bread, and he believed cheese on crackers to be a wrong of ‘Modern Society’. My experiences in Europe, particularly in Barcelona, always saw the pairing of cheese and bread and never crackers; in fact, one of my mother’s favourite Spanish foods is salt, olive-oil and cheese on bread. Alas, the world in which we live embraces this modern custom with grabbing fingers and open mouths.
While my love of cheese has always remained constant, recent incidents have piqued my interest and have prompted a defence of cheese. For instance, I was confronted with an advertisement for ‘cheese free cheese’: an alternative for those who are lactose intolerant. I have the greatest sorrow for those who may not be able to eat cheese, but I believe it an injustice to call such a replacement by the same name. For in essence, it is no more ‘cheese’ than almond milk is ‘milk’. I also recently heard a Campion fellow mention that they did not like cheese! What surprised me most was that someone with a rich education in the liberal arts could make such a fundamental mistake. Perhaps they missed the Theology lecture on the Transcendentals.
And there is so much good to be said of cheese. A large portion of one’s time in Europe must be devoted to the finding, buying and eating of cheese simply because it is so good. Fortunately such a pursuit will likely lead to exploration of European delicatessens and markets, like the famous la bocceria market in Barcelona, which is a haven of all cheeses big and small and round and smoked! Certain cheeses make perfect hiking foods in cooler climates because they keep well. More importantly they taste amazing and have the ability to make people happy, relaxed and carefree, especially with a bottle of good wine.
The origins of cheese are disputable with references found in the Bible, Pliny the Elder and even the Iliad where the Cyclops’ “cheese racks were loaded with cheeses.” Ultimately the first encounters with cheese, which were probably accidental, predate recorded history. All I can say is that I hope even the most ancient civilisations had the pleasure of tasting cheese. On an end note, I return to the nursery rhyme mentioned at the start. It contains the line “If all the trees were bread and cheese” to which Chesteron remarked that if such were the case, there would be considerable deforestation in any part of England in which he lived. My sentiments indeed!
EditorialOn December 11, the college will recognize and celebrate its graduating class of 2013. It’ll be a rite of passage in which nineteen more Campionites join the ranks of the five classes who’ve preceded them, leaving ‘the bubble’ of Old Toongabbie so as to leaven society more fully. Their tasking will be to inspire a Christian renaissance in the West. It’s a mission that, because of its lofty aim, is vulnerable to disparagement, yet the truth of the claim still holds. The provision to students of a Campion undergraduate degree (which comes through no lack of sweat and tears) enjoins upon them a duty to honour the college and its interests, a duty best achieved by living a virtuous life. Campion’s stated goal, of ‘forming future leaders’, therefore, ought not to be considered merely as an ideal reserved for the most charismatic or intellectually gifted among us. For the Class of 2013 was never meant to consist of nineteen aspiring prime ministers, but it’s sincerely hoped that they all took to heart and seek to apply the wisdom and skills inherent in their liberal arts degree. By living lives of virtue they will become leaders, deliberately or not, of their peers, their families, communities and nation.
Way back in 1859, Samuel Smiles stated that societal trajectories were not decided in houses of parliament, but in the home, for the home forms “the very nucleus of national character; and, from that source, be it pure or tainted, issue the habits, principles and maxims, which govern public as well as private life. The nation comes from the nursery; public opinion itself is for the most part the outgrowth of the home; and, the best philanthropy comes from the fireside.” We ought to realise that our mission is less about ambitiously plotting institutional takeovers (and at a single leap, at that), and more about plodding along humbly and patiently as we change each soiled nappy. Simply put, the greatest agents for change are mums and dads who pray and fast. The task’s incumbent upon us, the goal can be achieved, and the glory we abstain from, is ours eternally. God-‐speed Campion’s Class of ’13, make us proud.
On another note, I’m pleased to announce that Christian Bergmann is taking over the reigns as editor-‐in-‐chief. Chanel de Bono will manage layout and design. To this year’s team, my particular thanks go to Elyse who worked many a late night and to Josh and Liam for their efforts. I’d also like to thank our regular contributors, whose reliability meant we could set and approach deadlines with confidence.
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The SartorialistRace Day
The often erratic late springtide of Sydney can present a number of challenges to the young gentleman. Early November hails the coming of the Melbourne Cup. For the benefit of our foreign readership, this is the premier antipodean event in that most illustrious sport of kings. The day brings about many fascinating sights from the ladies, but it is the appearance of the gentlemen that concerns us presently. Your correspondent had endeavoured to report on the event which demanded the use of some trickery in order to make accurate observations. Indeed, the scheme at hand was to appear as a turf accountant so that none would suspect my true motives of reviewing the sartorial splendour or sartorial bungles of those attending the Melbourne Cup party.
Since all young gentlemen present had the benefit of four of my previous columns, I had high expectations that at least some would have taken heed of the instruction given to them. There existed many sartorial abominations, including several instances where the bottom buttons of jackets and waistcoats were done up. It appeared that this was some sinister society advertising their presence, although this is impossible to substantiate. However, I subscribe to the principle of Hanlon’s Razor never to attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by incompetence. This has all served to make matters quite clear that further sartorial instruction will be needed. With due consideration from the editor, I strongly suggest this column continue into the next volumes of this fine publication to guide the ways of young gentlemen.
Just as I thought all hope had been lost, I espied a dandyish chap and gave thanks that my sound instruction had not gone unheeded through the year. Here, we present to you a fine example of the young gentleman with sartorial sense. Let us start from the foundations. His shoes were of proper black polished leather and he wore dark socks to match his trousers. We ascend to find that the waistband of his trousers is properly hidden by his waistcoat. Indeed, he has left the bottom button undone as is proper to good sartorial sense. His shirt was crisp and of good quality and I was most impressed with his cravat. Few men can carry off a cravat with dash, but this fellow certainly got it right. I must also complement this fellow on a finely-groomed beard. Now that we approach the summit, we find that he is wearing a trilby (not to be confused with the fedora which has a wider brim) at a striking angle, which is eminently suitable for race-day attire. Congratulations is due, Sir, for you are worthy of sartorial note. So there you have it, a young fellow who knows how to cut a bit of dash on race day.
Dr Ryan MessmoreLabour Pains of Community
My wife Karin lay moaning in the delivery room. Her heavy breathing and tight grip on the hospital bed rails indicated that the birth of our first child was imminent. Things were getting intense.I knew it was time to play my part and put my training for this moment into action; so I exclaimed, "You've got to see this!" and pushed the play button on my computer.
As Karin (and the nurses) watched, I proceeded to play about 10 short videos that our students had filmed for her. I had been teaching about the practices of Christian community—including the biblical call to "bear one another's burdens"—and we brainstormed a unique way to do that for Karin: film the students engaging in strenuous acts of "pushing" and then play the videos while Karin was going through labour.
The nurses didn't know what to think (although they summoned their friends into the delivery room to watch), and poor Karin was wondering, again, what she'd gotten herself into by marrying me. I just kept playing the videos.One student was filmed lifting weights while a spotter yelled, "Don't stop! You can do it!"Two more students were recorded pumping up bicycle tires while imploring Karin to "Push with us—it's worth it in the end!"Another student pushed a golf cart with a dead battery, and one even filmed himself pretending to sell drugs, encouraging Karin that "pushing pays off!"
Showing these videos to Karin during her labour was our community's way of helping—or at least trying to help—bear Karin's burden. This was perhaps the closest way that we could hope to, in St Peter's words, participate in her sufferings. I showed several of these clips (minus the one about drugs!) during a recent talk at the Ignite Conference on “discipleship in community.” (The talk—including the "push" videos—can be viewed on the Core Conversations blog, posted on Oct. 4th). Although many of us say we want community, we often don't want to be bothered by the demands of others. True Christian community, in contrast, requires engaging in practices that allow us to walk through day-‐to-‐day struggles together.
What might such practices look like at Campion College?
The answer will need to be worked out in the particular circumstances that arise each semester. Perhaps it means starting a study group, or offering someone a lift, or meeting regularly for meals. One constant that is required, though, is the practice of presence. We cannot hope to care for our neighbours and bear their burdens if we don't spend enough time with them. Otherwise, how would we even know their particular need, or how would we build up the trust required to be vulnerable enough to ask for help? Such relationships are cultivated in what Dietrich Bonhoeffer called "life together," a central pillar of which is learning to be present to one another. In short, if community is something we really want (rather than just a buzz word), then we need to start by simply showing up—showing up for community worship; showing up for class; showing up for formal hall; showing up for a cup of coffee or a walk with a friend in need.
That’s the first step to authentic community. Through such time together we can come to discern which practices are needed to love each other well and bear each other’s burdens. Even though it’s uncomfortable, I pray that we will push to become this sort of community. It's worth it in the end!
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Singing in Hindsightby Anna Hitchings
Throughout my Campion days, I had a tumultuous relationship with that ever-present, mellifluous entity – that harmonious unit led by that tireless drill-sergeant – that time-thieving, relentless yet ultimately rewarding body. I am, of course, speaking of… the Campion schola.
Ah, how I used to envy those happy students enjoying that weekly period of freedom by chatting merrily, basking in the sunshine or even enjoying leisure reading! True, while they were lounging, we were being immersed in a world of beauty which stretched back to antiquity, absorbing the sacred and often haunting polyphonic genius of Fauré, Palestrina, Elgar and others.
But the schola always seemed to be so darned time-consuming! How is that possible, though? How can two mere hours a week take up that much time?The truth is, of course, that it wasn’t that time-consuming at all. There were just a lot of other places I wanted to be.
It wasn’t until my second year that I began to realise that the schola was actually contributing to my education, and in a way completely unforeseen. While I learned about the origins of Europe and the reforms of Pope St Gregory the Great in History, I was learning his own chant (Gregorian, to be precise) in schola. While studying the history of the Church, I discovered how wonderfully hand-in-hand it went with the development of sacred music which I was picking up via an incidental education during those two mere hours a week. I learned the
distinctions between different types of music, when they developed, and their significance. I learned to distinguish between music of different eras, whether it be English, Italian, French or German and, eventually, between individual composers. And all of this without being taught, at least not intentionally. It was unconsciously absorbed over those three years. (I imagine some people would be astonished that I ever learned anything in schola since I never shut up. What can I say? The power of schola overcomes all else…)
Schola also allowed me to do many things I would probably never have done otherwise: record a CD, perform at Parliament House, entertain a former Prime-Minister, accompany Mass said by the Cardinal, sing at my own graduation, and importantly, gain a reputation as a singer, to be called on for weddings, funerals and other events – a rewarding (and lucrative) enterprise.
But one of the best things about being in the schola has actually only come about post-Campion: it is far and away the best way of keeping in touch with fellow Campionites. Being part of the alumni schola is a whole new experience – it’s much more profitable for a start, it’s more relaxed, more fun and you have a lot more say (plus BK is much more chummy)! Why, just a few weeks ago the alums (from as far as Brisbane and Melbourne) sang together at St Pat’s, then headed off to a post-Mass BBQ lunch and get-together. It was a hoot!I’m not trying to convince anyone to join the schola (I am); all I’ll say is this: if you can sing but aren’t in the schola, you are missing out. No, really.
Above: Campion Schola at the Jenolan Caves, October 20.
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Symmetry
Alone in the cellar,walled in by wine,bookshelves, a dresser,and that last wall Time,I take up my task.
To reap a harvestof dust and tears,and girls never kissed,to face phobias -where better than this?
A butterfly slipsfrom the dresser drawer,on a breath of dust,lost on the dark floor.I find its outline,
symmetrical as rhyme,among the kaleidoscope stillsof the insect-album,cocoon-woven cellsthat my eyes flit over.
Now I take up another:1976.My father and motherare framed in their pastwhere she is my age.
Stirring the pageI feel like that childof half my agewho knelt down and spiedthrough a bedroom keyhole
into our hall,to watch this pair dance.Here, at a ball,not yet my parents,they exchange the glance
that gave me this chance -a boy turning overthe leaves of the pastuntil, at the centre,each a page of their own,
they turn from the spineand from each other;and I , their son,press shut the album,lover to lover.
Stephen McInerney
The Golden Meanby Jean Seah
What is the opposite of sloth? You might answer: industry. But the complete opposite of sloth is fanaticism, where you throw yourself utterly and heedlessly into a project, only to burn out and fall back into sloth. The virtue of diligence, where one proceeds with prudence and fortitude, is the golden mean between these two destructive extremes. Doing one’s readings regularly is better and less stressful than slacking till the last minute and frantically cramming the night before exams.
John Zmirak, the witty author of The Bad Catholic’s Guide to the Seven Deadly Sins, outlines St Thomas Aquinas’ Aristotelian analysis of virtues and vices. Virtue is a fine balance, the middle way between the seven capital vices and their corresponding polar opposites, which one might term neuroses.
Zmirak notes that religious people tend to overreact to sins, tormenting themselves and others by descending into the opposing neuroses (like Origen castrating himself). Just as true doctrine lies between opposing heresies, so does virtue lie between and above two ways of abusing God’s good gifts. (You may picture this as the apex of a triangle). So don’t be a Puritan, but rejoice heartily in God’s glorious creation!
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Sleigh Bells – Bitter Rivals[released October]Reviewed by Josh Woolnough
When you hear of ‘sleigh bells,’ do you think of soft jingles in the snow, or slamming guitars paired with raw vocals and guttural harmonies? Experimental-pop duo Alexis Krauss and Derek Miller of Sleigh Bells aren’t merciful when it comes to music. With their sooner than anticipated release of Bitter Rivals, the two have been double-booked, producing and touring at the same time. Leaving behind the heavier tones used in their previous album Reign of Terror, this album is a more balanced approach to combining Alexis’ sweet melodies with Derek’s guitar shredding. Honestly I’m a bit surprised they were able to pull it off. No two songs really have the same feel; each is an anthem of its own. The song “Bitter Rivals”, from which the album takes its name, combines feisty lyrics and heavy guitar with a sweet hook. “You don’t get me Twice” is a smoother, softer addition to the album. “Young Legends” is fight-song style track mixed with a daydreamy-island pop beat. No matter what these two seem to cook up in the kitchen, (or rather, in their bus while touring) they seem to get the recipe right. Sleigh Bells gets an A for effort and a 4 out of 5 stars for the sheer awesomeness of this album. If you’re in Sydney next March and like their sound, check them out at Future Music Festival.
Above: Rocktoberfest, Nov 2. A celebration of a wide variety of rock music, this student initiative showcased a wide (and often unexpected) variety of talent, including drummers Max Brown and Boniface Hewson, who also doubled as an electric and bass guitarist with Josh Woolnough, Joe Rebbechi, and Frank Winkels. Vocalists included Brendon Thomas, Catherine deBattista, Therese Schaefer, the Rebbechi brothers, Olivia Badman, Christina Schumann, Frank Winkels, and at one point the dubious but enthusiastic mosh pitters. Spectators enjoyed a barbeque and cold drinks in a relaxed picnic atmosphere, with only a few impromptu baptisms of protesting individuals in the inflatable pool. Credit and thanks goes to Josh Woolnough and his motivated team for providing such an enjoyable afternoon.
Above: Cartoon by Frank Winkels
A b o v e : C a r a H l a d i k a t t h e Neighbourhood Christmas Party, hosted by Campion College. Featuring Christmas carols, poems, and a free BBQ buffet meal, credit goes to Paul Kennedy for maintaining neighborly relations, and to all performers and staff who assisted on the night.
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Graduation TributesTHOMAS WESTENBERGWhat can but one man say about Thomas Westenberg? There are not enough volumes in all the great libraries of the world capable of holding all the plaudits that could be thrown at this dashing young fellow's feet. An intelligent mind, a razor-sharp wi t , an endless ly en ter ta in ing demeanour, a proficiency for great and appropriate insight, an admirable ability to adapt quickly to different situations, a fierce sense of loyalty to his friends, a taste for the stylish - these are but a few that come to mind. I have had the pleasure of knowing Thomas for many years now and God knows the world needs more people like him. In a matter of days he will be unleashed upon the world - setting a new Campion family graduation record while he's at it - and there are very few limits to what he can and will achieve. - Ryan Barlow
MARIE YEOWhen I first came to Campion I had not known Marie for more than a few hours before I found myself out in the gardens reenacting a duel from one of Shakespeare’s plays. I do not now remember which play it was, but I do remember thinking to myself that this girl certainly belongs at Campion. She broke the record for youngest student when she arrived, and has been actively involved in college events ever since; organizing talent nights, working on winter camps and possibly even initiating a rival to the Bachelors’ Guild. Over the past three years she has matured into a refined young lady, while still retaining her childlike frivolity. She has an inexhaustible quantity of good will towards all, even the habitual taunters of Campion. Her sincerity and abundant enthusiasm has made her universally appreciated by everyone, and she shall be both missed and remembered at Campion. - Ben McCabe
OLIVIA BADMAN
God never abandons us, He always sends someone for us to love, to listen and to share friendship with. I hadn’t expected us to build up such a good friendship, but every time I talk to you, I realise that your heart is always open to listen, even when we’ve been working in the garden… oops, sorry Mr. Kennedy! I was so surprised when you said to me, “Helena, if you need to talk, come talk to me anytime, okay?” I am so grateful to know such a beautiful young lady; you have a lovely heart, beautiful smile and amazing voice. Olie, thanks for your friendship. I am going to miss your smile, but God has written your name in my heart and I will always remember you in my prayers. You are a gorgeous woman; I love you (Don’t worry BT, Olivia and I are just good friends, but don’t forget how lucky you are!). Peace... -Helena De Jesus
SAM GREENI met Sam the night before O-week, as he moved into the dorm room across from me. Both being converts, we quickly became friends. I was scandalised by how much he loved to party, and it wasn't until second year that I realised what a strong tendency he had for philosophical and historical investigation. I will always remember our many conversations this year fondly. Like many of us, he has grown a huge amount in the last three years, from calling a cab to "somewhere fun that's still open" in O-week, to getting married in third year. It's hard to believe that you're the same person, Sam. You combine a healthy sense of fun with the ability to think deeply. You can grapple with theory, but have remained sensible. I have been immensely impressed by your journey, converting to Catholicism, completing a degree and getting married, all in three years. I wish you every happiness in your post-Campion pursuits. – Dylan Littler
JAMIE-‐‑ANNE ROSSETTO
I met Jamie-Anne at Geehi in 2009. And they don't call it GeeHI for nothing. This Italian goddess introduced me to the artistic profession of drugs, alcohol, and dead bodies - i.e. the Griffith Mafia. And I've never looked back. Her sacrificial love (and money) has helped me through various stages of immaturity, from goon sacks to power lines. But she has also been a standby comedian. Jamie-Anne's unconventional source selection has provided consistent entertainment over my Campion years. She claims these "broad" materials are what make her an "original" and "creative" intellectual. (Admit it: You only borrowed "Voltaire's Bastards" because it had "Voltaire" in the title. But of course, this makes you a "practical" thinker). Kind regards, Georgina v.M.
RYAN BARLOW
Thanks to Ryan, the Barlow name has been around college for years now. There are many rumours that have surrounded this South African born man, everybody wondering who the real Ryan Barlow is. There are rumours that Ryan is a genius. This is correct. Ryan produces the most entertaining presentations, helped along by his out-of-this-world knowledge of the latest technological developments. There is also the rumour that Ryan is a jock. Although Ryan may not be the ideal captains pick, his love for sport and his behind the scenes efforts for all of Campion’s sporting competitions has been phenomenal. As for international sporting matches, we’re still not sure if his loyalties lie with Australia or South Africa. Whatever the case, Ryan is a bloody good bloke, and will no doubt go a long way in life. Congratulations for completing the degree! – Jake Walsh
HELENA DE JESUS
When walking into Campion, one can’t but help but notice the familiar figure who’s always ready to greet anyone with a beautiful smile. What a beautiful person Helena is! Since the first day I met her, I’ve always been impressed by this woman who, coming from a non-English speaking background, is always ready to give a helping hand and offer a smile in any situation. Her initial lack of familiarity with the English language didn’t stop her from engaging with others and I’m so proud of her determination to succeed. She's helped her closest friends, many a time, and I’m so glad to have known her. Apart from helping with the East Timor mission, Helena has strongly encouraged other college initiatives, whether public or private. Thank you, Helena, for being such a beautiful and God-fearing person. I thank God that we have shared these three years together. All the best for the future. – Marie Yeo
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GEORGINA VON MARBURG
If someone had told me when I started studying at Campion that you would end up being one of my good friends, I would have just laughed. No-one would ever expect two more ideologically opposite people to get along as we do; I was far-right, and you were far-left, now you're a bit closer to the middle... and I'm still a far-right monarchy-loving, intolerant crusader. I guess we became friends because we were both not too eager about the course in the first semesters, and once we realized our common interests in zombie apocalypses and governmental conspiracies *Vindication* we spent most lunchtimes exchanging ideas. I have honestly learnt so much from you from those lunch-time conversations because I always found your perspective interesting. I'm sure that you will be successful in whatever you put your mind to. Good luck in all of your future studies and God bless you, my German friend.
From your Illyrian ally, Daniel Jon Joseph KoleciP.S. Thank you for introducing me to The Walking Dead... Best. Show. Ever.
CHRISTINA HODAL
Christina, you’re like creaming soda: you’re pretty and unassuming on the outside, and exceptionally sweet and bubbly on the inside. Indeed, your meek nature was often sprinkled with a loud burst of giggles! My earliest memory of you was when you invited me to see your holy card collection! - Probably the most holy hobby anyone could have; your nature was always filled with this kind of genuine sweetness. Your dorm room itself was an example, covered with pictures and paintings of flora and fauna, many of which you drew. Another unforgettable moment was the time you, Martin and I became the three amigos during ACSA 2011; such precious, happy memories! But not everything was rosy: watching you go through your ups and downs was especially powerful to watch, because you always endured and kept positive. I couldn’t help but to admire it. For all who’ve been blessed to get to know you during these three years, I’m certain they’d consider you a friend like I do. May all those saints pray for you with your studies in marine biology! -Monica Ochudzawa
MONICA OCHUDZAWA
When I first met Monica I thought to myself, "Wow what a unique woman, if I was a man I'd marry her." My second thought was, "We should be friends!" Turns out she thought the same thing...she wanted to marry me, but we settled for friends instead. Monica is many things; fun-loving, bubbly, giggly, intellectually stimulating, the list goes on. She is mature and respectful enough to take you seriously, yet she is that rare sort of person who allows you to embrace your inner child, not to mention a woman of impeccable taste in fashion and music. But most of all, Monica is full of love. Her passion and intensity for the things and people she cares about shows in her words and actions (and essays!). She has the incredible gift of not only seeing worth and beauty in everything but in communicating that worth and beauty to everyone else. Mon, you are a gentle woman with a powerful heart. Set the world on fire! -Olivia Badman
BEN MCCABE
Ben is immediately recognisable by his pirate garb, and the man within is as swashbuckling as his attire. From riding his bike to Wollongong to climbing a mountain in Africa, Ben will do what everyone else would balk at, and he will do it with pizzazz. Ben is always ready for an adventure, and to help you with a grin, particularly if you need help with finishing a bottle of port on a fine summer evening (a task he well appreciates). Ben will be, forever, borne in the memory for his appreciation and knowledge of Romantic poetry, his penchant for the natural world, and, of course, the 'Night of Chivalry', the effect of which is still seen today. I am confident that Ben will begin each new phase of his life with as much youthful exuberance and appreciation for the Great Horizon as that cartoon Calvin exclaiming "Yukon Ho!" - Thomas Westenberg
MIRIAM THOMPSON
Through the years we have been through much together. The queens of dilly-dallying and pretending it's holidays especially during study weeks, and of course I must mention your trademark laugh, which makes you impossible to lose (even if one tries). There have been good times; spent gaining a reputation for sporadic dance moves at gypsy festivals, flittering through the Eternal City, and spontaneous night picnics on the Yarra. And bad times... well, when she became confused and let a man into her life (sorry Mark, I was first).In sickness and in health: I don't recall ever being with Miriam when she was ill; other than that time we went to Luna park (all those times, actually), and that (long) time in India, and that (very long) time in Malaysia and... When Miriam is in good health she is a person of never-ending talent and amusement and has a unique gift that enables her to accompany every moment of her life with song.You are a wonderful woman and I have become a better person knowing you; I hope that you spend your life fulfilling your enormous potential. Until death do us part. Love you Mim. – Lucie Nejman
DYLAN LITTLER
When I walked into the dorms on my first day of O-week I was astounded to meet a 17 year-old Dylan Littler. By far the tidiest and most organised person in the dorms, not that it was hard to be, Dylan surprised me by stating he was never going to drink, except on his 18th he might, and I stress might, have one beer, and it had to be a Boags due to his Tasmanian connection. Now we’re three years down the track and how things have changed. Not only does Dylan now enjoy a drink along with the rest of the guys, he’s also disowned all Tasmanian culture. It would not be a stretch to say that Dylan has changed more than any other in our year. He is still organised and motivated but is more than happy when sitting around the shisha and having a drink with his amphibian in tow. Dylan, thanks for the chats and p l e a s e l e a v e t h e d u c k s a l o n e . – Pat Cattell
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LUCIE NEJMAN
One of my memories of Lucie from first year is that she gave me a lift during a storm. Upon getting into the car, I realised that there was someone else in there, someone stowed in a small box. Lucie said 'Oh, don't worry, that's my rabbit.' But more than being considerate enough to offer a friend a lift during the rain, and more than being relaxed about travelling with a potentially savage rabbit in the car, Lucie has been a good friend, a witty participant in the sometimes strange conversations of which our year seems inordinately fond, and an example to all of us in her patience and calm. I have no doubt that whatever life throws at her, Lucie Nejman will handle it with the kind and steady attitude she exhibits on a daily basis. - Brendan Smith.
DANIEL JOHN KOLECI
Adapted from Lord Byron's, “Childe Harold's Pilgrimage", for a friend indeed who taught me not to swallow poison.
Land of Albania! Where Daniel John rose;Theme of the young, and beacon of the wise,
And his title, Meowington, whose oft-baffled deck furniture,
Shrunk from his deeds of chivalrous emprise:Land of Albania! Let me bend mine eyes
On thee, thou rugged nurse of savage men!The cross descends, thy Daniel John arise,And the stout man sparkles in the 'gabbie,
Through many a lunch deck within each convo's ken.
Child Jamie-Anne walked, and passed the rowdy deckWhere livid Daniel John o'erlooked the air;
And onward viewed the passing lunch, not yet forgot,The student's refuge, and the Illuminati's grave.
Campion! Could not a degree immortal spurThat student's time spent in class with such inquisitive
fire?Could he not study where Campion teachers gave?
If life outside may await the computer games,That Age of Empires to which Daniel John aspires.
- Jamie-Anne Rossetto
PAT CATTELL
The first night I met Pat was hectic. Pat enjoyed himself so much he felt he had to share it with the Residential Assistant (RA). After Pat laid down the groundwork, he became a permanent resident in A-Day's room. By second year he had moved on from the dorms to the boy's house where he continued his passion for virtual sports. We'd often wonder if Pat had gone to Wagga for the week, but he'd be glued to the screen, working on his (virtual) jump shot. Pat was always there to share a beer, enjoy some exotic tea leaves and shoot hoops. I'm not sure how much study we did but as John Lennon said, "Time you enjoy wasting, was not wasted." Good luck Patty. – Sam Green
ELLIOT HOBBS
It has been a privilege to get to know you better over these years, especially during our final year. You’re an extremely interesting person and have a truly unique personality. You have a great sense of humour that always pops up. I know that I can always ask you for assistance whether it be to help in understanding certain aspects of essays or preparing for exams. Seeing you at the Campion parties over the years demonstrates that you have always put great thought and creativity into your costumes or outfits. In our first year the hangman costume that you wore was absolutely fantastic. Over the years that I have come to know you I have realised that you work hard and never boast about your grades. I hope that you have enjoyed your time at Campion and wish you all the best for the future. - Tina Hodal
JAKE WALSH
Upon first meeting Jake, you wouldn’t take him for the academic sort. Being from Yarrawonga, a fan of the Roos, a drinker of Melbourne Bitters and a player of AFL, would you take him to fit that picture? People regarded Jake with great suspicion. Some say that it was not until I popularized his room in first year that people really accepted him here; others believed he achieved this himself. Yet despite all this, we at Campion have been able to witness the great academic at heart. He has a great diligence and eloquence in his work, the ability to give insightful comments in tutes, even on the off chance he hadn’t done the reading, and the skill of writing assignments the night as though he had spent weeks on it. Jake has been a great friend and it has been a pleasure to share this time with him here at Campion. I wish him well in all his pursuits and pray that he will be able to go on without me. – Elliot Hobbs
BRENDAN SMITH
Although my first memories of Brendan are vague/non-existent, his presence in this Campion cohort has been unmissable. It always interested me how, after at least twenty-five minutes of intense concentration on his laptop screen during tutorials, he still managed to peer over it to make an interjection, although it appeared he had not listened to an utterance of the tutorial. Needless to say, many of Brendan’s comments pertained to his military knowledge and opinions, so I guess any talk of ‘the army’ would have piqued his interest. Brendan’s military interests have weaved themselves into many aspects of his Campion life: conversations, essays and Facebook statuses. It has been admirable to see Brendan’s persistence and determination in attaining and keeping a position in the Army Reserve while studying at Campion, even if it meant sitting exams after graduation. While that may not appeal to most of us, I trust all his hard work will pay off for him! – Miriam Thompson
Campion’s Class of 2013 officially graduate on the 11th of December. They go on to follow a variety of careers and post-graduate studies, including Teaching, Medieval History, Paramedics, Philosophy, Medicine, Marriage, International Relations, Defence Force, Writing, Marine Biology, Midwifery, and Film.
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Holidayby Thomas Westenberg(Concluding Parts)
The scent of water floated in the air; earthy, light as the clouds. He inhaled, filled his nostrils with the cool, brown, bite, and decided that it was the smell of nostalgia, or perhaps regret. He didn’t regret anything, which was what he regretted. The painter began with daubs of clay brown to rough out the fountain. It was marble, but he liked to paint what he felt, not saw.“I think you are blue.” He said. “Or maybe not.”“I feel blue, or bored.”“Bored? This is Rome!”It was undeniable, and that was the problem. He dangled fingers in the water again, and it didn’t seem so green any more. It was clear, colourless, and blue. He watched the statue.“Please, keep looking ahead.” The painter paused to bit his lip thoughtfully, sometimes he drew blood; the drops of crimson made him feel like the suffering artist, an Italian Van Gogh.
“Rome” the man said “is disappointing.”One of the painter’s eyes screwed up in pain. “No!”“It’s true. The Eternal City. It was supposed to be an adventure.”“Is it not?”“No. I even went to the Trevi.” He said, by way of explanation.“Ah. The lovers. A broken heart?” the bleeding heart of a lover, he knew, would require splashes of red.“No.”
It was mysterious then. He added midnight blue to the black of sky.“My mother always said you can’t trust movies.”“Except La Vita è Bella.”“Especially La Vita è Bella. Who said life was beautiful?”The painter paused. “Whichever it was that named the movie?”It was a good point, so he ignored the grammar.He felt lonely. It was a sort of white emptiness that filled him up inside, that was how he had described it in his travel diary. He wished someone had come with him, but that didn’t suit Romance. “The problem is, the problem is, that I never seem to do anything. I’ve been all over these streets, up every hill, watched every sunset and… nothing. I haven’t met somebody.”“You have met me” observed the painter.“Well, I haven’t met the somebody.”“Aha! Loneliness! Fantastico!” That seemed to be taking his tribulations lightly, so he pursed his lips and sulked.
The painter spread colour and shade across his campus, singing tunelessly, in mongrel French, the song his love had taught him in Lyons. It was coming along nicely, though the problem still lay in capturing the eyes. He traced and defined the statues; melancholy, he felt, was the supreme background.He stood back and examined his work, wiping paint on the brim of his hat.
The man turned to examine the fountain again. It made him feel better that such a powerful figure as the river, such definition and symbolism, felt as he did. In that mighty company, he could not be ashamed. (Cont. next page)
So the other day in class, this charming young male, with whom I am only slightly enamoured, looked around at me from several rows ahead and he SMILED at ME!!! And then, when I was on the deck, eating lunch, with my fifteen closest friends, he came over and asked what I was eating for lunch. And then we were both in the IGA, at the same time, in the same aisle, both
buying Almond Fingers. Obviously we've a lot in common.But what will I do if he asks me out? I can't possibly go out with him, because I can't possibly marry him, because if I marry him, my chances of having children with the correct coloured hair are incredibly low.Let me explain. I have the genes bb (double-blonde-recessive). And – I know this because I have been carefully examining the photographs on his Facebook account – his genes are Bb, or, at worst, BB. His mother was said to be blonde before it went grey, and his father was brunette. But I'm really not sure about his mother's true hair colour: it's only fair, really, very half-baked, unconvincing, I barely could count
it as blonde. Let's take the best case scenario, which is that he has Bb, and make a punnet square. (Fig.1). According to this, there is a fifty percent chance of our children being blonde. This means if we have twelve children, only six of them would be blonde, which means if I want to have twelve blonde children (I like the number twelve, it has so many divisors) I will have to have twenty-four children, which would be rather difficult.Anyway: what do I do if he asks me out? How do I say no?Yours sincerely,Blonde Girl.
Dear Blonde Girl,
I'm glad to tell you that Catullus has gone travelling, along with all his terrible ideas, and that I am Seneca the Younger, here to give you advice. I have written a lot of useful advice on many topics – you might want to look at 'On tranquillity of mind' – as well as a lot of rather jolly plays, which probably impressed you deeply in first year lit. Anyway, let's unknot the issues here.Firstly, it's ridiculous to want blonde haired children. Blonde is so barbarian. And you know what barbarians are? They're slaves, and we're Romans. You're not a Roman but at the very least you might pretend you are. Secondly, I think it's ridiculous you don't want to marry this person, especially if he has the auspicious combination BB. (Fig. 2.)
Rather, encourage him to ask you out. Here are four sure-fire tricks: 1) Sit in the row in front of him during class. When someone comes in late, turn around to look, and flash him a big smile over your shoulder. This only works if he does not sit at the back of the class. However, if he sits in the back row, he's probably playing tetris and you should reconsider your other options. 2) Re-do your hair at least once each lecture. Twirl your wrists. Dramatically. Slowly. 3) When there's something for him in the mail tray, bring it to him personally. 4) Hang out where he hangs out between lectures: i.e common room, the kettles, the cold-water tap. However, kitchenetting will only give you unofficial status at best.
You'll be officially together when you've taken up permanent residence in the common room and been seen conversing at the duckpond together, and your grainy, badly lit couple selfies are plastered all over Facebook. Then, your wedding and your twenty-four brunettes shouldn't be far off. Be steadfast during these vicissitudes of Fortune, it's worth it.Seneca.
Dear Catullus...
Fig. 1
Fig. 2.
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(Holiday cont.)
"I am genius!" The painter declared, praised himself in flourishes of Italian. "Pardon?""Genius!" He was getting excited, mixing paint furiously and flinging droplets onto the holiday dresses of nearby tourists. "The eyes, your eyes, they are the statue."This seemed like gibberish."Pardon?"The painter paused, leant on the easel and drank in the sight before him."You have no somebody?""I have not the somebody.""There is no somebody for you. You, you are not for a somebody, you are a something."The man screwed up the forehead. "Are you sure you speak English?""Si si si. This painting, it is my masterpiece. Artwork par excellence as my Madeline said.""Congratulations.""No, thank you! You are my masterpiece, you are the masterpiece. You are the painting. This is your purpose: art, art of the century."
It was flattering. The man sat and absorbed, while the painter, his metaphysical revelation conveyed, added the finishing touches to his canvas with the air of a fop dabbing scent on his nose. The statue's eyes, blank, stared down, as the man, tragic, noble, sacrificed love for art. The Suffering Tourist, The Observer, he watched life, but could never live it. He liked the idea, it made him feel sad.
"I went to the Trevi" he said "but I think I prefer this fountain.""Ah yes, signore. All men who know prefer this fountain.""It means more than all the rest of Rome. To me at least.""Si.""I wondered why.""Si. It is because you, and the fountain, you are the painting.""I see." He nodded sagely, and sat in silence.
"It is finished." He got up, put an arm around the paper, contemplated his life. Then, an hundred Euros shorter, rejoined the crowd, strolling through the flow.The old men sat and talked, the young ones chased younger women and pretended they didn't. The couples sat and murmured Love-Things, the tourists snapped photos and spoke of their lives. The piazza filled and emptied of the flotsam of Rome. Rome, the Eternal City forgot one more story.
by Ellen McCumstie
Ah, the familiar noise of November… from high school classrooms, to university libraries, everywhere students are crying out in distress and confusion! Yes, it’s exam time; late nights, cram sessions and general communal grumpiness. We look back on months of classes taken inattentively and curse our lack of foresight. What a bind we’ve put ourselves in!
I cast my mind back to March. There I was, a simple, carefree First-Year happily reading Aesop’s Fables, pleasantly surprised to have familiar tales about talking lions and dogs as required reading. Such complacency! Had I my time over, I would have taken greater heed of Aesop’s wisdom. Sure, some of them are racist, a little out-dated and occasionally ridiculous, but I guarantee that if you give the book another read you’ll find a few gems that will come in handy every now and then. So, without further ado I present to you:
AESOPS FABLES - THE ACADEMIC EDITION
1. It comforts some to see others in a more wretched predicament than they’re in themselves.How unchristian does that sound? But let’s be honest, one of the most common questions we tend to pose the night before an essay deadline is “How many words have you got?” If your buddy answers 800 and you’ve yet to put finger to keyboard, you’re in strife. If their answer is “I haven’t looked at the question yet”, you’re fine! Take a break, you deserve it…a least you’re not that guy!
2. A naturally gifted man, through lack of application, is often beaten by a plodder.A bit contradictory to the last one, but the Tortoise and the Hare is a classic. Arrogant bunny versus humble tortoise: a rivalry for the ages. The same applies at college; sure you might be a genius, but if you waste your time and neglect your readings, your grades will suffer come exam time. Meanwhile, the tortoises remain consistent. And consistency is the key to success (or so they tell me…I haven’t gotten around to trying this one yet).
3. The ant teaches man to take thought for the morrow in a season of abundance, lest, when times change, he suffer dire distress.Weeks 1 to 10 are seasons of abundance for students. It’s easy to forget about exams and essays when nothing’s due for a while but don’t be too complacent, sometimes you’ve got learn from
the ant. Stock up on knowledge and notes to alleviate much of the pressure associated with the end of semester.
4. It is thoughtless folly when men neglect important business for the sake of pleasure.Refer to number 3, but minus the ant. Sometimes when the books begin beckoning you, you feel the onset of a severe case of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) or, alternatively, our old friend Procrastination arrives for a prolonged visit. Well, apparently that’s thoughtless folly and we should cut it out.
5. When one grows accustomed to them, even disagreeable things become less trying.I’d like to see some statistics for this one to be honest, because I’m still not buying it.
So there you have it. Follow these little pearls of wisdom and you’ll be on your way to a more stress-free life in no time! So what are you waiting for? Get reading (or re-reading) Aesop’s Fables A.S.A.P!
Fable-ous fables
Speck the Altar Boyb y M a r g a r e t A h e r n
16
Above: Melbourne Cup festivities
It is remarkably unfair that you can glory in your very own column, whilst the underpaid, overworked, and sidelined layout manager (myself) is utterly disregarded (unless, however, someone wishes to complain about an editorial change
made to their article… no, I had nothing to do with that; yes, I can see why he changed ‘jurassic’ to ‘ancient’; and maybe he’s in the kitchenette if you’d like to take it up with him?). Artisans aside, it has been an experience of growth working on The Sextant this year, and I would like to publicly conclude my role by means of this letter. This wondrous and at times surprising venture began with the first new layout, brought forth at 5am after a strenuous all-night process described as ‘child birth’ by the illustrious editor, and now concludes with the third years saying nice things about each-other without igniting an all-student email war. I would like to thank Josh and Liam for their help, particularly the former’s instruction on the magic of Pages; and raise my glass of Baileys to the old editor. I have learnt a great deal from those late nights (milk, seven sugars, right?), and your grasp of the English language is admirable, despite its regrettably political bent. Your patience seemed inexhaustible, particularly when arbitrarily choosing deadlines, and it has mostly been a pleasure working with you. I hope you continue to utilise your talents, particularly in the wider sense of hapless society, and so leave your mark. Finally, I hand over my position to the capable, organised, and stylish Chanel de Bono (above), who I have no doubt will exceed my creative work thus far (remember, you are always right, it simply takes the editor a while to understand this). I also look forward to the work of the promising new editor, Christian Bergmann (above), and relax with my well-earned aforementioned alcohol, confident the next Sextant will be worthy of Campion’s ingenious intellectual capacity. And as for myself? I hear the Extant is looking for staff, and their editor pays, too. In vodka. - Elyse Burns
Dear Editor...