Amani Nasarudin27 March 2017
Lindsay Lohan’s done this, I think, as the cop takes my mugshot. Should I smile? I give the camera a glare that looks petulant, childish.
It was your birthday drinks last time her arm was around you. It’s only been three weeks since then, you were in Fitzroy at yet another rooftop bar, basking in the suburban sunset. Your gift came in a plastic shopping bag.
Detik pertama, I was drowning and the world softened, an egg dipped in vinegar.
This is a Cornetto moment,
w/ all the flicked pip mandarins,
& pregnant bellies being rubbed,
under ice-cream umbrellas
Is sponge-like, encouraging
soapy suds, moisture
to develop in its hide.
You pull at its hair
and come away
In the week leading up to sending this mag to print, each of the editors had a work-related stress dream.
(but all I think of is the discounted sunscreen I’ve bought,
whether it will be effective in shielding you from the heat of
anger, fear, contempt, love, pride and shame.)
Here’s how you get someone to vote for you in a student election. You print flyers and wear a brightly coloured t-shirt and stand somewhere on campus reasonably close to one of the voting booths, like the one in the lobby of the Baillieu Library.
When I first applied to host a show on Radio Fodder in 2016, the station had only been around for a year or so. At this stage, it was run by the media officers with the help of some dedicated volunteers. Being split between a bunch of different obligations, the Farrago editors didn’t always have the time to help us out. Realising this, this year’s editors created positions for two station managers to help nurture Radio Fodder and its roster of talent.
I first met Jen Balcomb doing German in first year. German 5 was a bit of a train wreck, but what I loved most about the class was that I made so many friends out of it. We were all like newly born deer stumbling around UniMelb, struggling to find our feet after we bust out from the placenta that is high school. Our cohort quickly bonded over not knowing what the hell was going on. There’s something about late classes, old German literature and a very scary tutor that really fosters new friendships.
I was floating down the streets of Paris at 40 kilometres per second, my arms straining against his denim jacket, laundry powder and cigarette smoke and joyful fear. A thousand indie rock songs spinning in my ears. Like a dream from a movie where I couldn’t belong. I was in Paris in summer, and I was having the time of my life. He had curly hair and converses and he was Into Music.
Some of you will know me as a co-host of Snappy Hour on Radio Fodder. But semester two last year saw me try my hand at producing another show.
Nour Altoukhi on the universality of feminism
There are some iconic duos that were just meant to go together.
Nour Altoukhi on being ethnically misidentified
I am curled up in a ball like a frightened armadillo.
When I asked presenters Ashleigh Hastings and Carolyn Huane how they would explain the premise of Off Beet to virgins of their show, they offered “local bands, banter and hopefully enjoyable music” as a tagline.
Nour Altoukhi describes walking through airport security
– A purse of deep space sheltering nothing –
It was a dusty, rocky landscape, without adequate access to water or food, but it was also a temporary refuge from the horrors of the Islamic State. Almost three years ago, the Sinjar Mountains of Iraq’s Nineveh Governorate sheltered an estimated 50,000 people fleeing catastrophic violence. Those seeking safety were Yazidis, and they were fleeing what the advocacy group Yazda calls “a systematic campaign of mass atrocities against civilians in northern Iraq.”
It was all terribly grim and modern.
The University of Melbourne is currently considering purchasing a site at Fishermans Bend, a large urban renewal project site located south of the Yarra River
A new student accommodation facility will be built by the University of Melbourne in partnership with student housing operator UniLodge, a company whose housing facilties students have described as overpriced and unsanitary.
Her message box is empty. She stares at the blinking cursor for a long time. Then she types: Poem for a Boy I Don’t Know.
Inside the Co-op Bookshop’s AGM
*A FAINTLY TALENTED AMATEUR’S PERCEPTIONS OF FITTING INTO AN ARTISTIC COMMUNITY
“Come to dinner,” she’d said.
On the effectiveness of a national day of student protests.
This second year psychology major doesn’t need zombie eye make-up when she can compose music at 2a.m. and draw for 6 hours straight.
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