Know When To Hold Them, Know When to Fold Them, Know When to Walk Away
It is somewhat poetic that I choose to start my Blog with a quote from the Bhudda; in the context of last nights events it seems to fit perfectly.
One of the things they dont tell you when you start Architecture is all the life skills you learn that are subordinate to the prescribed academic syllabus. Spending 6 years at a University means that you spend alot of time consuming intoxicants in various forms and at various locations; which means you soon find the limits of your consumption capacity and thus can actively safeguard against making a complete fool of yourself. ...Increased fun via maximal consumption with minimal embarassment factor...
Friday night I went out to the ANU Bar (a lesser bar at a more prestigious University than the one I attend) with a few mates after work and encountered a kind of drinker that I usually tend to avoid. I'm talking about the second year arts student majoring in pol. sci. Now normally I wouldnt bother with this sort of individual, but I was feeling particularly hospitable and in need of a cheap laugh at someone elses expense so I decided to converse with this young man.
Now the thing about being a second year student is that generally they havent put in the serious bar time to that of the long time student like myself. What erks me about the pol. sci major is that it seems there is a critical level of intoxication with each one (usually two beers) where they decide that the bar is a forum for discussion about the injustices of the world and assume a stance on the nearest soap box in order to preach to "the masses" about how we are nothing but mindless drones in a societal superstructure and that it is his job to make us aware of our slavery to "the system". These two factors combined would lead to a particularly amusing few hours of action.
This particular fellow, true to form, assumed his position on the soap box and began to discuss the finer points of Derrida, Nietzche and the like - involving himself in some sort of verbal gymnastics. "The masses" (Kedar, Tas and myself) decided to engage in this discussion to essentially stir him up, where at the point of frustration he began to swear at us in various different languages (French and Vietnamese I picked out of his drivel). After a couple of hours of that, it became apparent that he had drunk twice the normal second year pol. sci. limit (4 beers) and was slipping off his soap box in a rather grand way; while his sister, who was actually involved in somewhat intelligent conversation with Tas, became quite worried. Now this guy didnt know when to stop, and insisted on buying more drinks - far be it for us to disagree with him buying us more beer - and when it came time for me to leave I offered he and his sister a lift home.
After much convincing and him stumbling and falling over a few times, his sister, Kedar and myself managed to get him into the back the 87 Camira stationwagon, where he promptly passed out. The 20 min drive home was amusing, his sister and I had a polite chat and every so often were interrupted by him saying ..."blub,blub,blub"...
On arrival at their house, I opened the back door for him and he promptly face planted on the concrete driveway. Picking him up, I managed to drag him to the front door of his home. Again he slumped to the ground and began to murmur something, which sounded like jibberish, so I assumed he was swearing at me in some foreign language again. This time however, he looked desperate to communicate with me, I leaned closer and found that he was actually trying to say "I need to vomit here" which he did no sooner than the words passed his lips. At that point his sister decided that it was ok for me to leave and I made a swift departure. Now had this fellow followed the teachings of the Bhudda, he would have known how much he could hold; known when to fold and stop consuming; and known when to walk away instead of stumbling, vomitting and passing out.
...Bhuddists in their natural habitat...
Pictured above is an example of 4 extremely seedy people on the second day of Stonefest who even though they are looking a little worse for wear, know and actively practice these principles - despite the night before walking away for two and half hours on the assurance that .."its only 15 mins walk from Bruce to Turner"...
posted by WillG @ 6:52 PM
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