Feed the bastards lies.

Whither Britain?

2009-06-09T18:07:00.002+10:00

What Ho!

2009-06-03T21:41:00.000+10:00

Liberty Leading the People

2009-05-26T22:22:00.001+10:00

Denim

2009-05-25T23:40:00.002+10:00

I am thinking that I need jeans. Perhaps these?

Denim is hot, uncomfortable and uniquely unsuited to people who spend most of their waking hours punching keys instead of cows. It looks bad on almost everyone who isn't thin, yet has somehow made itself the unofficial uniform of the fattest people in the world...Despite its air of innocence, no fabric has ever been so insidiously effective at undermining national discipline.

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB123751483315591559.html

Denim is the infantile uniform of a nation in which entertainment frequently features childlike adults ("Seinfeld," "Two and a Half Men") and cartoons for adults ("King of the Hill").

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/04/15/AR2009041502861.html

Needless to say, I'm having second thoughts.

Prince Charles

2009-05-25T20:53:00.002+10:00

Dean Martin

2009-05-24T20:33:00.005+10:00

"If you wanna hear me sing straight, you buy an alblium."

Man's Best Friend

2009-05-04T22:33:00.001+10:00

Giraffe-dog.

Ebay

2009-04-29T23:25:00.002+10:00

Molnia Aviator's watch, circa 1960.

Product of the USSR.

Liberty

2009-04-21T13:02:00.001+10:00

Xristos Anesti

2009-04-21T12:54:00.001+10:00

The Man with the Big Cigar

2009-03-16T22:20:00.006+10:00

Who is that man with the big cigar,
who's greatest friend is the USSR.
He's known around from near and far
That actor man with the big cigar.
He puffs away
every night and day
with a twinkle in his eye
and all the while behind that smile
lurks many an untold lie.
Down Whitehall way
you'll see his car
He's here, he's there, he's everywhere,
that friend of the USSR.

Compliments of Charlie and His Orchestra.

En Route

2009-03-05T22:18:00.002+10:00

Back in Nagasaki

2009-03-03T20:05:00.002+10:00

Hot ginger and dynamite / There's nothing but that at night
Back in Nagasaki where the fellas chew tobaccy and the women wicky-wacky woo
Oh, the way they entertain would / hurry, hurry, hurry a hurricane
Back in Nagasaki where the fellas chew tobaccy and the women wicky-wacky woo
Oh, Fuji-yama, you get a momma / then your troubles increase, boy
In a pagoda she orders a soda, banana, banana, indeedy!
They kissy and huggy nice / by jingo it's worth the price
Back in Nagasaki where the fellas chew tobaccy and the women wicky-wacky woo
They give you a carriage free / the horse is a Japanee!
Back in Nagasaki where the fellas chew tobaccy and the women wicky-wacky woo
You know what? They sit you on the floor / and splinter you galore
Back in Nagasaki where the fellas chew tobaccy and the women wicky-wacky woo
Oh sweet kimono, I tried to phone her / found the number engaged
In a pagoda she orders a soda, banana, banana, indeedy!
You just have to act your age / or you'll end up inside a cage
Back in Nagasaki where the fellas chew tobaccy and the women wicky-wacky woo
Mmmm.... babababa, bababoooow
In a pagoda she orders a soda, banana, banana, indeedy!
Now when the girls jiu-jitsu / seems like a bus has hit you
Back in Nagasaki where the fellas chew tobaccy and the women wicky-wacky woo
Back in Nagasaki where the fellas chew tobaccy and the women wicky-wacky woo

Americana

2008-11-14T20:51:00.001+10:00

http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/2008/10/31/and-a-happy-halloween-to-you-too/

Change

2008-11-06T22:58:00.001+10:00

http://www.patrickmoberg.com/

Sarah Palin

2008-10-28T22:22:00.003+10:00

Sarah Palin represents a radical seismic shift in political strategy. Once leaders were chosen for being the best and brightest—we sought out orators, strategists, polymaths, and geniuses to lead us. Today our leaders may be chosen for their representation of American average and for an utter lack of distinction. It is part of the campaign against the intelligentsia, the quiche-and-arugula-eating, Chardonnay-sipping elite. Because of profound changes in the structure of mass media—a shift from the literate world of newspapers to the sound-bite world of cable TV—we have a different sort of democracy today. We now have TV-driven elections and we are discovering that they are very similar to TV programs that involve voting, such as American Idol.

http://men.style.com/gq/blogs/styleguy/2008/09/the-rhetoric-of.html

America's dilemma: between a negro and a hard place?

Americana

2008-10-28T21:58:00.000+10:00

Rushmore

2008-10-27T23:49:00.004+10:00

September Acquisitions

2008-09-18T14:53:00.003+10:00

Thelonious Monk

2008-09-08T21:14:00.001+10:00

The Gipper

2008-08-29T19:10:00.001+10:00

My shrine.

Another day of lectures

2008-08-29T19:01:00.005+10:00

Lacoste button down
Ralph Lauren chinos
Charles Tyrwhitt socks
Facconable belt
Tod's suede loafer
Tag Carrera Calibre 5 Automatic watch

Handing in an assignment, then off to lunch.

2008-08-29T18:56:00.003+10:00

Last business day of Winter, so out came the tweed for the final time this year.

Unidentified tweed jacket, circa 1980s, inherited from an uncle
Ralph Lauren button down
Ralph Lauren chinos
Jos A Bank bow tie
Jos A Bank paisley pocket square
Loake suede brogues
Pantherella socks
Papermate Kilometrico pen

Afternoon tutorial

2008-08-29T18:24:00.004+10:00

Lacoste Polo
Ralph Lauren chino
J Press Belt
Pantherella socks
Tod's loafer

An Idiot's Guide to Locktenstein

2007-09-06T23:01:00.001+10:00

Introduction:

Despite being one of the smaller nations of Eastern Europe, Locktenstein is home to a bounty of riches when it comes to conservative values and mass graves. While it has long shaken its Stalinist image, tourism in Locktenstein has been slow in catching on, but it is fast becoming the Hong Kong of Eastern Europe, thanks partly to its horse racing and its reputation as a tax haven.

Location and Geography:

Locktenstein is located in Eastern Europe, where it lays some where between Romania and Molvania.

From the Great Grazing Plains of Locktenstein, with their arid flair, to the heavily wooded and logged Locktenstinian Alps, this truly is a nation of contrast.

National Anthem::

The modern anthem was composed in 1911 by Sergey Osilopivik, and is entitled 'Ode to the Oppressor', having been commissioned by King Paul Patty IIX.

Oh great Locktenstein, let us rejoice
For the land where the water is pure
And the goats as fertile as the women
Where all peoples run free
And all turnip pastures are plentiful

Though enemies may march upon us
Without fear we shall stand
For no conquerer will harm the mighty peoples
Of this mighty land

And when we finally meet our foe in battle
On our livestock we shall charge
And with the grace of a turkey death shall befall them
As it does the dirty gypsy

When the battle is finished we shall rejoice
For our freedom is once again assured
Though our struggle is never ending
We shall forever pelt the gypsies with turnips

History:

Locktenstein is by no means a nation that has escaped the turbulence of history. It is believed to have first been settled by Greek merchants who crossed the Alps in 500BC in search of cheap wine and women. Instead they found nothing but desert, and abandoned their settlement by 480BC.

The Roman Empire showed little interest in Locktenstein when it passed through the region, the Roman commander in the area is quoted as saying,

“Oh Juno, what a shit heap!”

Thus it was that Locktenstein stumbled through the Roman Empire unknown to all, except the few Roman soldiers who would sneak over the border to pleasure its goats.

The collapse of the Western Roman Empire went unnoticed in Locktenstein, as did the formation and collapse of the Byzantine Empire, the Crusades, and pretty much anything that happened in the period 1000 AD-1798 AD.

The French Revolution brought democracy and liberty to Locktenstein, however the citizens were under the impression that King Louis XVI had won and addressed an open letter to soon to be decapitated monarch congratulating him on his victory in crushing the violent goat uprising.

In the First World War, Locktenstein was one of the later entries, signing a treaty of alliance with Germany at 9:00 AM on the 11th of November 1918. In the two hours of sanctioned war available to them however, the Locktenstein Armed Forces achieved much, slaughtering no fewer than 238 suspicious (probably French) goats and gypsies.

Although it sent a delegate to the Versailles Peace Conference, Locktenstein was largely ignored by the Big Four (although the Italians did send an ambassador, after his report not even Germany was interested in claming Locktenstein), and it was at that gathering that the long and glorious tradition of annexation was begun. At the Versailles conference, Locktenstein laid claim to:

Belgium
The Rhineland
Copenhagen
Schleswig (but not Holstein)
The City of Danzig
East Prussia, and Poland.

Many of these demands were rejected (although the secretaries at the conference were a little late in replying, but the Locktenstein Ministry of Foreign Affairs received the relevant correspondence only last week), but still the proud citizens of Locktenstein lay claim to all of the above, and take great pride in expanding the list daily.

Making up for its late entry into WWI, Locktenstein decided it would join WW2 nice and early on. Accordingly, a treaty of eternal alliance was signed with France on the 21 June 1940 (a day before Marshal Petain signed the armistice agreement with Germany).

Curiously enough, Locktenstein remains at war with Germany thanks to a loophole in the treaty with France.

However, at the close of WW2, Locktenstein was offered to the Soviet Union as a gesture of mutual friendship. On 1 Jan. 1946, Locktenstein was accepted into the USSR. However, when Stalin and other Soviet officials visited this new province in February of 1946, Stalin described it as "repulsive...this is an area too filthy for even the most derelict of the gulags." By March, a gulag was however set up, and political prisoners from near and far found their way to this now cruel part of the world.

Despite the willingness of the French, the people of Locktenstein were not so eager to trade one despot for another. In the Summer of 1948, anarchy broke out across the nation. Carefully co-ordinated rebel groups began a series of attacks on Soviet infrastructure, quickly harassing the enemy, then retreating to the hills on goat-back. The Soviets were not a meagre enemy, and troops were sent in to reinstall order. Their efforts were ultimately in vain, when they were defeated at the Battle of Locktentown, where native saboteurs disabled an entire division of Soviet tanks, by spiking their fuel with turnip vodka, leaving the Kremlin to abandon Locktenstein, labelling it as a 'lost cause.'

Modern day Locktenstein is a land of opportunity, freedom, and liberty. It is respected by those who have heard of it, and conveys a vague sense of the positive to those who have not. Under its glorious President Dr. Paul V. Patty, Locktenstein is going forwards (as it cannot go any further backwards, according the World Bank and the UN) into the future, confident it can meet any gypsy who threatens its unique, censored way of life.

*I would like to acknowledge the aid of Vice-President Moxon in the formulation of this Idiots Guide.

Quadruple-Professor Matthew Aloysius Rembrandt Chalk

2007-09-06T21:53:00.001+10:00

Matthew Aloysius Rembrandt Chalk (right) was born in 1903 in Romania. His mother was Romania's poet laureate, who penned such classics as Ode to the Home Distillery, and the poem still regarded by many Romanians as her greatest, The Gypsies Have Stolen my Turnips. By comparison, Chalk's father was a hard-working ringmaster/blacksmith, shoeing his elephants and training them to become Romania's first tap-dancing elephants.
Chalk's childhood was spent at the local school, where he learnt of the wonders of education and turnip vodka, a combination that he still uses to great effect. This idyllic lifestyle soon came to an end, when his father became, inadvertently, the first man in Romania to see what an elephant’s colon looked like from the inside.
After recovering from his father’s death, Chalk packed his belongings and left Romania, heading for where he hoped to find inspiration and the will to continue living, Tsarist Russia.

Smuggling himself across the border in an empty portable toilet, Chalk set about establishing himself and continuing the love of literature he gained from his mother. He found himself sleeping on the street and had to resort to scrounging a meal from corpses at the city morgue, until he was caught one night and imprisoned by the state.

Transported to Siberia and forced into a labour camp, Chalk quickly aroused the other men within the camp with his tales of the lucky country, Romania. One fellow prisoner later remarked "those tales of vast turnip fields kept the cholera away on those frost bitten nights."

But Chalk quickly tired of prison life, his thirst for knowledge and turnips far from satisfied. Luckily, fate was on his side. In 1917, communist separatists liberated the camp. Inspired and aroused by their passion, and a female communist named Olga, Chalk joined this band of rebels, vowing to put an end to the oppression of working classes.

Meeting up with Lenin and Trotsky in St Petersburg, Chalk took up arms and stormed the royal palace, capturing the Tsars. Lenin pleaded for sanity but Chalk, crazed with a lust for turnips, ordered the royal family to stand on their heads. Tsar Nicholas soon toppled over, and Chalk laughed in delight banishing the royal family to exile, and a life of imprisoned turnip farming.

Soon after the revolution, Lenin appointed Chalk minister for agriculture. He quickly organized the peasants of Russia into collective turnip farms, and output fell by 60%, heralding the start of the great famine in the Soviet Union. Lenin soon removed Chalk from the role, and placed him as minister for education.

It was here that Chalk was to thrive. Once again organizing collective schools, Chalk introduced doorology as a compulsory subject in Soviet schools. This was short lived however, when Trotsky deemed the study of mathematics to be more important that the history of doors throughout the ages.

Chalk maintained the position until Lenin's death in January 1924, when Stalin assumed power and banished Chalk from Russia. Chalk returned to his home of Romania, and lived once again with his now 94 year old mother. But the reunion was over all too soon when Chalk's mother took a celebratory shot of turnip vodka and passed away.

After grieving and maintaining watch over his family's turnip dynasty, Chalk decided to travel to Poland for a relaxing holiday, hoping to sample some of the famous turnip wine in that region. The year was 1939, and the massing of German troops on the Polish-German border seemed to Chalk to be just the beginning of some friendly war games. It was while staying with some Jewish friends in Warsaw that the commencement of hostilities began, and Poland quickly fell. Taking a 'better with them than against them' mentality, Chalk joined the nearest fascist organization he could find, and firebombed the house of his Jewish host. He was drafted into a Nazi militia, and sent in to clear out the rest of the ghetto. Chalk objected to the cold-blooded murder of Jewish women and children, and requested a transfer to a more humane, anti gypsy unit. His request was granted, and he traveled Poland successfully uncovering and slaughtering his mortal enemies, and was awarded the iron cross.

After ridding Poland of the gypsy menace, Chalk again thought of his love of education. Opening the "Chalk Institute of Gypsy Eradication" in 1941. The reception was lukewarm however, and was shut down in the later half of the year. "My thinking was too radical," Chalk later said "I was pioneering the anti gypsy movement like no one before me."

Chalk's talents were did not go unnoticed by those in Berlin, who recruited him to head up their new anti gypsy unit. Chalk leapt at the chance, exterminating this scourge of society up until the eventual fall of Berlin, where he was captured while attempting to euthanise Soviet gypsies as they approached the Reichstag.

Once again, it was to be Chalk's indispensable skills that would get him out of trouble. Rescued by the British Government just before he was to be called for war crimes, Chalk was offered amnesty and British citizenship by Churchill in return for his services as a gypsy exterminator. While not known to many, Churchill was fanatically anti gypsy, and he and Chalk immediately befriended each other. When Churchill left office in 1946, the plans for an anti gypsy movement did also, and Chalk at once retreated to the cradle of Western civilization, Greece.

It was here that Chalk plotted to destroy the Acropolis, an artifact he saw as a symbol of gypsy power everywhere. He tried unsuccessfully on three occasions to bomb it, but his home made turnip vodka explosives were used to little effect. Police finally caught up with Chalk, and he sought refuge in Romania.

Once back in Romania, Chalk purchased a black African slave for twenty pounds, and a Lada automobile for another ten. Here, Chalk began to tutor his mute object, occasionally also giving lessons to the slave, which he named Herman. Herman eventually learned how to farm turnips out of cardboard boxes, using nothing but his own manure and saliva. When he and Chalk toasted their success by making vodka out of these turnips, Herman passed into a coma and a sleep from which he would never wake, and Prof. Chalk lost one of his closest and valuable objects.

Seeing nothing more for him in Romania, Chalk returned to Greece for a do or die attack on the Acropolis. Brewing his most potent vodka bomb yet, Chalk placed it at the foot of the structure. The object went off with a fantastic explosion, but did little to shake the ancient structure. Chalk was apprehended and imprisoned, and employed a local goatherd, Paul Patty, as his defense lawyer.

It was soon realized that Patty was not in fact a lawyer, and barely possessed the necessary literacy skills needed to sign his own name, instead smearing all forms with the manure of his goats.

With all hope seemingly lost, Chalk thought he was destined for a life of bondage. But Patty, using nothing but his herd of goats as cavalry and a large stick, stormed the jail and released his comrade. The two raced to the port of Piraeus, and escaped on the next boat to Australia. They suffered a set back however, when they found out the vessel they were on was in fact destined for Austria, a land locked country, and was not in fact a ship, but a bus. A short goat ride later though, and they were back on track.

The ship they left out on however was not the most seaworthy of vessels, its homeport being Mogadishu. Once through the Mediterranean, they struck poor weather and encountered heavy seas. The boat was capsized, and the two budding revolutionaries found themselves floating, clinging to nothing but a piece of timber and an overweight lady for support. After two days drifting, they were forced to eat one of their flotation devices, and four days later having fended off sharks, starvation and even a group of maritime hawkers offering steak knives, they were picked up by a Soviet merchant ship, found to be in good spirits, still clinging to the corpse of the fat lady.

They spent the next four weeks on the vessel until she returned to her destination of Vladivostok. Patty was, due to his Greek citizenship, allowed to return to Athens, but Chalk was arrested by the KGB and interrogated. Files retrieved during the pestroika period of the Gorbachev regime revealed he was suspected of leaking Romanian secrets to the CIA, in reference to a new machine the Soviets were creating to mass-produce shoe horns, dubbed the ‘Slipstream Project’. After seven months of constant interrogation, Chalk finally snapped. He revealed to his captors that he had leaked information much more sensitive to the Kremlin. He had in fact revealed the plans for a bold new Soviet scheme to provide hardcore pornography to the masses, or ‘Star Whores’ as it was secretly known. The concept employed the use of various satellites and ground relay stations to allow the mass broadcast of such content. Chalk was condemned to the gulag. It seemed as though this hardworking boy from Romania was to start and end his days with a man constantly beating him.

But it seemed that on that day, God was on Chalk’s side, in the form of a certain Greek goatherd. During his deluded ranting when the pair were marooned at sea, Chalk had revealed to Dr. Patty the existence of a mystical prophet of Allah that resided in the deserts of Arabia, the Ayatollah Chris Bauer. Said to be descended from German merchants that had come to Arabia seeking to rob ancient tombs, Ayatollah Bauer had earned a reputation as a thief and a swindler. Exactly the sort of man Chalk needed on such an occasion. Dr. Patty travelled to Arabia, and after many weeks searching the desert, he finally stumbled upon the Ayatollah and his mystical troupe of belly dancers and Mujahideen. When the Ayatollah heard of the peril of his comrade from years gone by, he stirred his troops into action, and together with Dr. Patty set about leading the greatest camel backed armada the world had ever seen across the Urals and into the heart of the evil empire.

They proceeded without incident, but encountered only a taste of things to come at the Soviet border. Soviet troops demanded that all of the camels be searched for over thirty diseases, including dysentery, before they were to be allowed into the Union. Despite Ayatollah Bauer’s protestations, and suggestions to ‘burn these infidels,’ careful diplomacy on the part of Dr. Patty allowed the camels to be inspected. Tensions eventually boiled over when one of the soldiers placed his hand nears a camel’s rectum, when one Arabic warrior shouted ‘That is only for me!’ and slit the throat of the infidel. Confusion struck through everyone, and a fierce gunfight ensued. All the Soviets were killed, but at the cost of two men and a camel for the army of the desert.

The cavalry pressed on, encountering only light resistance from Soviet forces, but their efforts were hampered by their seemingly constant stops to beat gypsies, and the fact that each of the Mujahideen refused to travel without being at least partially drunk. This resulted in numerous navigational errors, and after a month of aimless wandering, the ended up back in Qatar. Quick thinking by Dr. Patty soon rectified this, and he made a point of instructing of Ayatollah Bauer on the merits of using a compass, which he dismissed as ‘the tool of the infidels’.

Meanwhile, Professor Chalk was in a sordid state. He had not showered for two months, and his last bath had involved a high-pressure hose and riot police. He was assigned to a factory that made the bristles for toothbrushes, where he attempted to foil the Soviet war machine by exposing each of them to his now deadly underarms.

The relief effort was now once again underway. Having penetrated the Soviet lines for the second time, the Arabic armada advanced upon Moscow, with only one thought on their minds. That thought was of course, cheap women.

Chalk was getting desperate. After nine months in Soviet captivity, his bones were frail, and the book in which he had attempted to document his ordeal was behind schedule, when it was found that broken ceramic tiles and tree sap were not adequate substitutes for paper and ink. His mind was overtaxed from the endless labour in the bristle factory, and he yearned for just a drop of his mother’s turnip vodka. On the anniversary of his mother’s impregnation, February 2, he was roused from his sleep by the drunken banter of Arabs and the thunderous flatulence of a thousand camels. His liberators, four months late, had arrived.

Chalkston Courses

2007-09-06T21:44:00.002+10:00

Turnip Isle
The personal retreat of Prof. Chalk, Turnip Isle is reported to have formed from an ancient giant turnip that petrified.

No University is complete without its courses. This is something that the Chalkston faculty learned fairly recently during a Royal Commission into its practices. So, here by popular demand, the list of Chalkston Courses.

Faculty of Science

Ever since its inception, Chalkston University has offered Science as one of its core components. This journey began in 1948 when Prof. Chalk started looking for a way to grow turnips in a bilge pump. After a year of research, Chalk perfected this art, and is now regarded as the founder of the most popular Science course in the Baltic; Turnipology. It has expanded its curriculum, and now offers courses in:

-Turnipology

-Garbology

-Doorology

-Cheese Mathematics

-M.C.S.I. (Monkey Crime Scene Investigation)

M.C.S.I is the newest course that Chalkston offers. Dr. Patty, though his maniacal research, discovered that monkeys were incredibly useful for investigating scenes of crime. This has led him to develop the first degree in the world that actively trains people in the use of monkeys as a forensic tool. This method is now used extensively in the Baltic region, where monkeys are currently being used to both destroy and uncover mass-graves.

Faculty of Humanities

For years, Chalkston existed as a purely science based University. It was only recently that Prof. Chalk realised that some suckers were actually willing to pay to learn about artsy crap. So 2004 marks the 10th anniversary of the Chalkston Humanities Faculty. At present Chalkston is currently offering:

-Evasive Accounting

-Whale Philosophy

-Theology

-Procrastination/Hypocrisy

-Theoretical German

-Reaganomics

With Ronald Reagan recently passing away, Chalkston has decided to create a memorial course for that great politician. What the course centres around is the economics policies of Reagan, and an indepth course in how to get hair just like his. Reagonomics: Yesterday's policies, today.

From the Motherland

2007-08-31T15:10:00.000+10:00

It was early April 1906, a fine spring month in the land of the Gods. The olive season had borne a bumper crop, and the increasing heat in the air was carefully balanced by the cool of the Mediterranean breeze. And yet, there was an eerie sense of mystery and air of anxiety surrounding this usually jubilant time of year. News was reaching me of strange and nefarious contraptions emerging in the American continent. It seemed that man had now reached the realm of the birds; non-buoyant flight was now a frightful reality. For many years had I been a skeptic regarding buoyant flight. I feared that the use of dirigibles had the capacity to displace the volume of the sky, such that all of the clouds and associated sky matter would be forced to the ground, subsequently suffocating the poor folk who did not have the resources to rise above this deadly miasma in opulent floating palaces. The class struggle of which Marx preached would not be demarcated by the worker and his master, but by those wealthy enough to inherit the skies and those left to rot in the misty catacombs.

A Message from Professor Chalk

2007-08-30T16:02:00.000+10:00

As all of you may know, I have always had a particular aversion to any student showing independent thought at my university. When this paper was founded, I was initially shocked. However, I soon realised the potential of this particular student endeavour. Because all the intelligentsia flocked to it, I would destroy the paper, thus destroying them. This was meant to be a one-off venture, however the bastards kept coming back. Over time, it has become a little ritual that the both of us enjoy. In retaliation to this action, I have more than once woken up to the familiar smell of horse entrails.

The Chalkston Gazette - A Brief Timeline

2007-08-25T23:58:00.000+10:00

The Chalkston Gazette has been the mouthpiece of the students of Chalkston ever since its founding in 1913. Starting as a roll of communal toilet paper in Pradansk, Romania, the Gazette has become the biggest student-run newspaper/Muslim death-camp in the Baltic. Here's a brief timeline of the paper's history:-

1913 The paper is founded is Pradansk. Toilet paper sales in the Baltic hit an all time low.
1914 The offices of the gazette are destroyed when Q.P. Chalk decides that the paper has become a communist mouthpiece.
1950 The paper is renamed Skinhead Weekly. Q.P. Chalk declares the Gazette a Nazi mouthpiece and the paper is destroyed.
1953 Hermando Manfucca, a radical Cuban priest, becomes the paper's new editor.
1993 To celebrate the paper's 50th year without being firebombed, Hermando lets the Serbian army use the papers offices as a death-camp for Muslim children.

The First Man to Tap-dance Around Eastern Europe

2007-06-05T22:36:00.001+10:00

Tapping my toes in Albania
Tapping my toes in Ukraine
Wearin’ my flashiest get up
Tap-dancing ‘round Eastern Europe!

Tapped all the way through Slovakia
Tapped all the way through Romania
Had a good tap with Hungarians
Tappity-tapped with the Czechs

Clickin’ my feet in Bulgaria
Tapped my way to Belarus
But the Moldovans, they didn’t approve
And so onto Poland my tapping did move

Only the Russians were left to be tapped
So I tapped into Moscow
Then onto Murmansk
Givin’ the ol’ shoes a tune up
Tap-dancing ‘round Eastern Europe!

The Rodent Song

2007-06-01T17:41:00.000+10:00

Walking down the road one day
While munching on a mouth of hay
Said the man: “let’s sing a song,
Of all the rodents, short and long!”

So they sang a song of voles in holes
But don’t forget the humble mole
And spare a thought for the old rat
Who is hunted by the cat

The mouse he has a reputation
To eat without discrimination
Squirrels, chipmunks, beavers too
All these can be seen in zoo

Then there is the guinea pig
Whose friend the gopher likes to dig
Not to be confused with llama,
The largest is the capybara

They come from many distant lands
From woodland to the desert sands
In territory they call alpine
You’ll find the New World porcupine

As the Bible tells us all
The Lord he made them big and small
If they were gone we would lament
The world is naught without rodent

Hermando Manfucca - Editor-in-Chief of the Chalkston Gazette

2007-05-29T11:33:00.003+10:00

Hermando Manfucca (above) in a seemingly inquisitive stance. He has really just shat himself.

Born into poverty in his native Cuba, Hermando has come a long way since those days of state issued rations of a baby formula that was later found to contain arsenic.

When he attended the Chalkston Guantanamo campus to complete a bachelors degree in Procrastination in 1975, little did he know he was to become the head of one of the most biased newspapers in the world.

The modern Gazette is the brainchild of Hermando. When he first suggested the newspaper be printed in English as opposed to the indecipherable Chalkstonian, he was declared legally insane and Quad. Prof. Chalk had his pet donkey murdered, but history shall judge Manfucca's decision as a wise one. Since then, readership has risen dramatically, with production having progressed from ten to over ten thousand copies each week. The use of an armed band of Congolese militiamen to vigilantly enforce the reading of the publication on and off campus has also contributed, but nevertheless, Hermando's efforts have payed hefty dividends.

Hermando as a small child.

Dr. Paul Patty (1935- )

2007-05-25T12:01:00.000+10:00

Dr. Paul Patty is the co-founder of Chalkston University.

Quad. Prof. Chalk and Dr. Patty met in 1974, when Chalk was caught trying to bomb the Acropolis by Greek authorities, the reason being that Chalk believed it to be a immensely powerful Gypsy artifact that they used to keep their monopoly on the rutabaga trade because it glowed at night; a theory he still maintains to this day. He was assigned Paul Patty, a local goatherd, to be his defence lawyer. Patty, realising that he wasn't a lawyer, sprung Chalk from jail in a daring daylight assault. The duo then escaped to Australia with nothing but 20 roubles and a novelty apron between them.

The pair went their separate ways after arriving in Australia, due to a particularly nasty fight over the difference between the properties in Chalk's turnip vodka and industrial paint thinner. Needless to say, Paul went off to ANU and gained his Ph.d. in Economics. He then joined the board of the Reserve Bank and was quickly fired after he single-handedly raised interest rates to 42.7%, a figure he was only to repeat once when he founded the short-lived credit-card company Filcha.

After this nightmarish venture, Dr. Patty went underground, living off the contents of a bilge pump. Seven years and four strains of Cholera later, Dr. Patty emerged triumphant, the political spirit branded upon his heart. It was then that he founded the United Immigrants Party, a radical new group of undecided political leaning.
The arrival of this party heralded the reunion of the two old friends. Whilst Dr. Patty had been busy, Chalk had gained his PH.d. in Pure Mathematics, and joined the CSIRO. It was here that he became the first person to mathematically prove that the number 1976632 was a cheese. He was then ejected from the CSIRO over what he claimed was a severe case of "intellectual jealsousy".

Upon meeting up with Dr. Patty again, whom he discovered lurking among the sewerage system of upper Melbourne, Quad. Prof. Chalk decided during one of his late night alcohol induced rants that he needed to found a university. Thus, Chalkston was born.

Demokkkrat Enlightenment

2007-05-24T19:11:00.000+10:00

Hymn to Liberty

2007-05-22T21:24:00.001+10:00

Monotonic orthography:

Σε γνωρίζω από την κόψη
του σπαθιού την τρομερή,
σε γνωρίζω από την όψη
που με βία μετράει τη γη.

Απ’ τα κόκκαλα βγαλμένη
των Ελλήνων τα ιερά,
και σαν πρώτα ανδρειωμένη,
χαίρε, ω χαίρε, Ελευθεριά!

Poetic:

I shall always recognise you
by the dreadful sword you hold,
as the earth, with searching vision,
will rule, with spirit bold.

It was the Greeks of old whose dying
brought to birth our spirit free,
now, with ancient valour rising,
let us hail you, oh liberty!

Amusing Mr. Monkey photographs

2007-05-22T20:54:00.001+10:00