Enjoy.

If I Were Queen, for String Quintet.

To me it would seem obvious that we should be measuring ourselves, as a country, by how many people we offer shelter. However, I am interested to hear your views. Discuss.

Michael Jackson’s Thriller

This is a duet arranged for two of my younger students who are progressing at different paces (pretty much because one of them actually practices, GOOD STUDENT!). The Primo Part tests left hand/right hand co-ordination, and begins to break the bounds of static hand positions. The other part is designed to increase endurance, something which the student it was arranged for has trouble with due to her lack of practicing (grr). The rhythms are simplified quite a lot; I think it is still recognisably Thriller, but you can be the judge of that. The last three bars are a bit dodgy – caveat emptor.

Thriller Thriller2 Piano 2

Thriller Thriller2 Piano

So What: Pink

I actually appreciate Pink, which says a lot considering what I think about most mainstream artists (see: http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/2008/01/30/40-indie-music/). Compound time signatures always go down well, and it’s slightly more harmonically interesting than, say, party in the USA. Essentially, I didn’t want to kill myself quite as much as I did with the others. Rhythmically quite complex for a beginner, but who are we kidding – watching a student’s head esplode is hilariously fun. This is balanced with reasonably easy hand positioning (one position change in LH), but beware of the flats.

So What

Mullet-Bitch Junior: Party in the USA

No fucking comment. The student I arranged this for stopped having lessons shortly after I slaved over this shit fountain of a song; I hope she dies horribly.

Party in the USA

Linkin Park: Leave Out All The Rest

Ahhhh, slightly emo students – I love ‘em. Although Linkin Park are most definitely not my favourite band, this song actually translates to the piano quite sonorously. I arranged this for a beginner (like, 2 lessons in) and one of my 1 year continuers. The rhythms in the Primo are quite difficult; the student concerned got over this hurdle by learning them aurally via a recording of the song. I was proud of her laziness. The primo part also functions quite well as a solo, I’ve found.

Leave Out All the Rest Leave Out All the Rest Piano 2

Leave Out All the Rest Leave Out All the Rest Piano

Anyhoo, if this has helped any of you out, I will feel my intense frustration in having to listen to this crap on repeat was worth it. Expect more of my rantings in the future, I love you all.

1. I keep seeing my neighbour in his yard wearing nothing but underwear and watering his plants. The rest of my family insists that they have never seen it, and that it is a weird hallucination/dream brought on by about 7 coffees a day.

2. This morning I opened my wardrobe only to have the Protoss voice from StarCraft announce “Not enough Cardigans! Mine more Cardigans!”

3. I referred to a male student as “Mary Beth”.

4. I have randomly started “dance walking” at about 130bpm everywhere. The fact I know the bpm is more scary than trying to imagine what “dance walking” entails.

5. I regularly have begun attempting to skank whilst driving.

6. A combination of Regina Spektor’s 20 Years of Snow and PJ Harvey’s Mansize Sextet have been pretty much on repeat. I feel like I should put on Clockwork Orange makeup.

7. After being scolded for poorly constructing a piece of Ikea furniture, I apologised for not being a late 18th century French orphan, scratching together a living from his carpentry, all the while putting aside money for the revolution.

8. I refered, for a full day, to one of my friends (who has long wavy hair) as “Charlemagne”, and then apologised at 4:30am whilst drunkenly running around a playground, because I meant to call him Louis XIII of France, and then proceeded to call him his “full name” for the rest of the night.

9. I joined a book club.

10. I know all of Chad’s lines from Highschool Musical, and yet no-one elses.

11. I ended a conversation with my father by saying “AND THE NAME’S DAN, DAD, NOT BOLTON!” I then apologised.

12. The last point was in a dream, but I wish it was real.

13. I had a dream about this (thanks, Paul Verhoeven).

14. I am still writing, even though I should be doing something pertinent/relevant.

Come on! Feel the Illinoise!

In my nievity, I recently agreed to house-sit for a couple with a recently built house while they holidayed in Europe. Little did I know that I would be without internet for two weeks. What happened in this time is truly extrordinary: I realised that there are amazing, time tested ways of wasting time without the internet. Rather than panicking and writing Facebook statuses on gigantic pieces of poster board; frantically waving them, like a billboard to my narcissism, atop my roof – or actually starting a real farm with strange raspberries that grow within two hours. I found myself gradually turning into a Jane Austen-esque society woman, who spends her time playing piano and riding horses (unfortunately, I had to pretend, as horses are none to common in the northern suburbs of Adelaide).At one point, I was so bored that I waved my baton in front of a mirror for an hour, perfecting my technique (interpret at wil). Rather than doing uni work, I wrote out 3 arrangements for students (in varying levels of completion), started writing an entry for the ASME composition competition (say that 10 times quickly), and cooked EVERYTHING from scratch.

The internet was finally connected last thursday. Since then, I have put off an assignment, cooked things much more crappily, watched two seasons of scrubs and e-farmed like there’s no tomorrow. Indeed, this blog post has written itself about 4 times faster than my overdue assignment. However, if the internet is truly the bane of our society, then arguably I would have done my assignment when I was internet-less. I would simply propose that if American employees were, instead of being given internet access, left alone in a room with a piano, a CD player and a conducting baton, they would still waste the same amount of time as they would with access to Facebook and Twitter.

And now, I return to the magical world of homocide with Rhain (the gypsy) Buth. To be fair, he is hilarious and an awesome teacher, but I haven’t quite filled my daily quota of time wasting.

The sheer comedic value of the whole affair is undoubtable;, starting with the wearing name badges to an armed robbery.  Their awful attempts to cover their Australian accents failed them twice: once at the bank and again at the

A Picture Speaks 1000 words; Luke Carroll and Anthony Prince's Gangsta photos. Image Credit to SMH

airport, whilst attempting to escape to Mexico. However, it is what they did before their botched escape over the border that defies belief. Like every teenager who has just gotten a whole lot of cash would do, they immediately went to McDonalds, where they took a series of, as the Sydney Morning Herald describes it, ‘gangsta‘ photos of themselves holding the money (as you do), and then proceeded to try and buy a rolex… with 6000 $5 notes. They then hired a limo to take them to the airport, where they were caught.

However,‘Dumb and Dumber’[1] are not alone in their transnational exploits. According to Biles (1992), ‘over 1000 Australian Citizens are arrested overseas each year, and at any time between 150 and 200 are being held in prison.’[2] These statistics are based on Consular data; hence the numbers are most probably an understatement, especially concerning offenders with dual citizenship.[3] However, if the media is to be trusted, we can at least think it more likely that these statistics mostly cover the stealing of Thai bar mats[4] rather than more violent, and embarrassing, crimes such as this.

The pair are, according to an Associated Press Australia release today, both back in Australia. Prince has been back since February. An Adelaide Now commenter, in an unprecedented display of wit, asked ‘can’t we say we don’t want them back, sort of like a “no returns” policy?‘ Much to my chagrin, no.

[2] David Biles, ‘The International Transfer of Prisoners’(1992) 38 Trends & Issues in Crime and Criminal Justice 1, 1

[3] Ibid.

[4] Bonnie Malkin, Australian woman facing jail in Thailand for stealing bar mat (2009) The Daily Telegraph <http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/australiaandthepacific/australia/5350092/Australian-woman-facing-jail-in-Thailand-for-stealing-bar-mat.html>  at 6 August 2009

your still a fucking geek. at least join the navy and grow sum balls. dont talk shit on my facebook again. ps i stole your jacket its awesome

Sorry, but whenever someone mentions the navy and balls in the same sentence, I instantly remember that village people classic “In the Navy”. Personally, I have to say that the Indian outfit would probably suit you the best, however if you grew a moustache then the policeman outfit would be equally becoming.

yes the navy sucks alot of cock and are gay as fuck. but thats probably why i joined the army and am a soldier you dickhead. i just said you would be less gay if u joined the navy and took big black balls to the chin. i gave the jacket to someone anyway.

I still think the Indian outfit would be most becoming; consider it.

ur a fag thorpe

Actually, I’m a Dan Thorpe. I realise that pigeon English was charming during that brief period in the 90s when “Shuddupayaface” came out, it had been almost 20 years, so it would probably be better if you move on to the more recent bogan portmanteaus – for example “shitcunt”.

bogan? dont use that word you fukin pom. talk shit about aussies you can go back to your winter island or suicidal gays

Sorry, I was just trying to talk at a level which you would understand. We learnt in legal method that the average Australian has a reading age of 10, although – oddly – in International relations we learnt that 98% of Australians can read. My international relations lecturer has a rocking body for someone who must be in her late 40s, but I think that she is dead inside, just secretly. As for “talking shit” about Aussies, I didn’t mention faeces once in my last post – except for in shitcunt. Now, Sam, I realise the whole average reading age is a bit of a problem, but surely you should know “cunt” doesn’t mean “Australian”, although well done for getting into the spirit of the portmanteau, I nearly wept from pride.

sttill a geek bro. wake up to yourself

See, I’m vry srprsd by ur rspnse here. Frst u tell me to stp tlkng about Austrln poo, thn u inslt me? I mst admt, I ws vry shckd by ths sddn trn around. Hwvr, aftr rflecting fr a mmnt, I rlsed tht it ws prbbly bcause of ur obsession wth Free Msnry, and I rlsed tht ur mssge was pssibly in code. Aftr noting ur dliberat absnce of vowls, I cme to the cnclsion tht (mst prbbly) u cld nt ndrstnd txt wth vwls (othr thn thse ncssry fr prtially corrct prnunciation) prsnt. Hnce, I hve edtd ths dwn.

Thus, the conversation ended. Safe to say, I now have one less facebook friend.

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Email 1 to Today Tonight:
At the tender age of 7, I went to my first Adelaide show; the lights and the people were exciting, warm and welcoming, or so I thought…

I was climbing a rock climbing wall, when a mysterious “Rove” came on stage. I was excited, and trusting. Mid Climb, an ill-prepared Rove yelled out, to distract the audience from his frankly vapid sense of humour, “That Kid’s gonna fall”. An audience of over 200 people laughed at me and my efforts. This was repeated at numerous points during the show. Comedians have no right to hurt children in this way, and I believe I have a course of action in Civil Assault, if you support me.

This story should be featured, because it tells thge heartfelt sorry of a child who’s trust of adults has been taken away by the flippant remarks of an overly zealous comedian.

Thank you for your time.

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A Postscript: Today tonight has the journalistic integrity of my left foot. For people who think I am an attention whore: damn straight I am, but not in this arena. I am engaging in this communication simply for Lulz; ie, if they actually accept this then my opinions on their value as a media outlet will only be confirmed. Basically, don’t comment and say “gosh Dan, you are such a moron,” because my intentions insofar as this little venture is concerned are most definately for the lulz, not selling myself for a bit of attention from the brain dead pensioners that watch this show.