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VOGUE

+ FINDING MONEY: How often does this happen? Not often enough! If you’re like me, your eyes will be usually cast downwards while going walkabouts, and you’ll often find a 10-cent coin here or a 50-cent coin there, but paper money? Fat chance. One time we were op-shopping with some friends and one of them found $150 in a 12-inch! Aiiieee! If only we’d been interested in the cabaret/easy listening recordings of Kamahl that day! The best thing about finding money is that you have to spend it that day. I mean, no one finds money and saves it. You found it – you didn’t work for it – so you’re allowed to indulge yourself in whatever takes your fancy. Enjoy!

+ APOCALYPTIC FILMS: Except for Waterworld and I Am Legend (what a stupid ending), pretty much all apocalyptic movies are excellent viewing and a good time had by all – especially when everyone dies in the end. Again, how often does this happen? Not often enough! Seriously, how exciting is it to watch total destruction and the end of civilization? Imagine being the last generation! Awesome! Just to be clear though, we’re talking apocalyptic films, not post-apocalyptic films, which usually don’t show the world actually being annihilated, just the aftermath. Films like The Day After Tomorrow and Independence Day (even though the Earth is saved) are good ones and 2012 is going to be out-of-this-world, or should we say the end-of-the-world! MWAH HA HA! (Evil cackles) We can’t wait.

BOGUE

+ HOMOS WHO HATE WOMEN: Originally, this segment was going to be about misogynistic drag queens. The one’s who dress like women – albeit hideously made-up hags – and hate actual women. But then we realized that there’s a greater portion of straight-up gay guys who passionately loathe those of the ‘fairer sex’, and there’s even bigger numbers of macho bull dykes that feel the same way. Can you believe that? A woman who wants to be a man, who hates women who aren’t lesbians! And a man who is so repulsed by vag that anyone who has one is automatically a target for disrespect. What the hell is wrong with these people? You gotta have a better reason to hate someone than the simple fact that they’re ‘from Venus’. Sure, most women are annoying twits, but the same can be said about men. People in general are insufferable morons. In fact, that ought to be the golden rule – everyone should be hated equally!

> ‘GIG-GOERS’ IN TRANCE-LIKE STATES DURING MUSICAL ENGAGEMENTS: Is there anything more embarrassing to witness than a stone cold sober halfwit, eyes closed, swaying slowly – sometimes even doing jerky kicks and flailing their arms about – to the beat of some ‘experimental’ indie band, as though they were the only person in the room, nay the entire fucking world? What, are they having a spiritual experience… in public? As if! Oh you’re so-o-o-o ‘into music’ that you have to entertain us with your far-out hypnotic maneuvers? We didn’t come here to be distracted by your foolish reverie! Sure, we’re having a great time pointing and laughing at you, but after a while it just becomes annoying. If only your soul would escape during your trance, that would be the end of your groovy ways…

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Duke Magazine
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VOGUE

+ CLAYMATION: Everyone is going nuts over Wes Anderson’s yet-to-be-release Fantastic Mr Fox movie, featuring *gasp* puppets, albeit heavily CGI’d ones. In fact, the visual effects are so digitized that they almost look like claymation – which we predict will make another big comeback! We’re not talking Wallace and Gromit here either. We’re talking claymation a-la The Trap Door, Morph or old Will Vinton movies like The Adventures of Mark Twain. That’s the way it goes when something swings to such an extreme as film has with computer graphics, eventually it has to go back-to-basics. And thank god, ’cause claymation or puppetry looks a million times better and more real than anything Pixar has ever churned out.

+ NO EYEBROWS: Here’s a Vogue entry we made reference to in issue 2 of DUKE, but never really discussed, and that’s having no eyebrows! We have two rules regarding eyebrow-styles – they should either be thick or you should shave them off completely. Think Angie Bowie circa Ziggy Stardust, Divine in Pink Flamingos or early 90’s Chloë Sevigny. What do they all have in common? They’re all awesome, that’s what. Oh and also, they have no eyebrows. You do the math: Eyebrows + shaver – hair = awesome. And that’s the simple equation that equals ravishing beauty.

BOGUE

> PEOPLE WHO FALL DOWN A MINE OR A WELL OR GET LOST IN THE BUSH BEFORE BEING RESCUED AND HAILED AS HEROES: First of all, how the hell is someone a hero after accidentally falling down a mine? It’s not like they rescue themselves! It’s the rescue team and the paramedics that save the day. They’re the heroes! But we don’t see miniseries’ about them, we don’t read their stories in Women’s Day or buy their memoirs out of a discount book bin. No! Instead we see these gloating fools parading around like they’ve performed superhuman feats of strength. It’s not even a miracle that they were able to survive a week without food or beverages – most of these klutz’s are overweight and badly in need of a detox anyway. We wish there was more toxin and less de-toxin going on down that shaft so they’d stop wasting people’s time and money and instead start wasting themselves away.

> PEOPLE WHO GO OVERSEAS AND COME BACK WITH A NEW ACCENT: What kind of a stupid moron would pull this stunt and expect we’d all believe their lies? What do they think? That they were so immersed in the culture, that they had such an authentically British – or American – experience (because let’s face it, they’re the two accents that are most often faked. I mean, who comes back from India with an Indian accent?), that they developed these affectations after a measly few weeks away? It’s ridiculous! What’s the point? It’s not like people are going to think that they’re actually American. And how long can they keep it up anyway? As long as they can before people grow tired of their new shtick and find themselves new, less annoying friends. That’s about a week, max.

VOGUE

+ WILD EYES: Who cares about normal coloured eyes? Brown-eyed girls, green-eyed monsters and ‘ol blue eyes… That’s it! Everything else is just varying shades of three basic colours. But now thanks to the geniuses at CIBA Vision, you no longer have to make do with the hum drum human eyeballs you were born with. Now you can express yourself WILDLY. There are lots of exciting different colours and patterns to choose from with equally exciting names such as Jaguar, Cat Eye, Icefire and Hypnotica. Be wild! Not just on the weekends, but weekdays too! 7 days a week, 365 days a year, or 2, 555 in cat years!

+ GROCERY CART PEEPING TOMS: Buying groceries is not fun. But there’s a sure-fire way to spice up any food-shopping trip – you can be a pushcart peeping tom! Here’s how it works: First, relax. Zero in on your target: Mr and/or Mrs Grossly Obese. Carefully maneuver your trolley past these gargantuan eating machines, all the while asking yourself how one can acquire such largesse… then as you slow down to overtake them… BAM! Feast your eyes on their brimming bounty! Get a load of all that bread, chips, dips, chocolate, coke, cake… you name it, they’ve scoffed it. It’s a morbid pastime, but a satisfying one. Well maybe not as satisfying as the number two they’ll be doing in the morning.

BOGUE

> TINY TOP HATS: What’s the point of a tiny top hat? It serves no purpose whatsoever. There are only three reasons to wear a hat. A) To cover the head. B) As protection from the weather. Or C) As a fashion accessory. On all of these counts, the Tiny Top Hat is found GUILTY of failure. Firstly, it covers neither the head nor the crown and is instead perched perilously close to the edge of a fall. Secondly, as if it provides any kind of shelter from the turbulent urban climates in which we live! And third, a fashion accessory is worn to enhance an outfit, not to ruin reputations. The Tiny Top Hat is just the slutty little sister of The Top Hat. She needs to go grow up and go to finishing school!

> TWITTER: For sure the disgust for the stunted “status updates” known as Twitter has been stated far and wide, and we’re probably the last off the starting block when it comes to slagging off online social networking, but our position must be known: WE HATE TWITTER! Can there be anything more boring than reading about what someone is wearing, eating, thinking? There’s scarcely ever news that’s noteworthy enough to exclaim to your friends, let alone six million other nobodies. People are soooooo boring. Do we really need to be reminded every half an hour?

You hate him so much, Raquel. You hate him so, so much. You hate him so much you want to create twelve renditions of his most grating characters and then show them to everyone in the whole world in an art exhibition about how much you hate him so much. Him and his “comedic shtick (the wild gestures, the rapid fire one-liners) designed to bamboozle the audience into thinking he’s funny”. You hate him so much you want to have the show open tonight in a huge catharty* party at Black and Blue and stay open until July 18…

TS: If you had one chance to hurt, maim, torture or kill Robin Williams, and every concievable tool at your disposal, how would you do it?

I’d make him sit through all of his movies with his eyes forced open with clamps (a-la Clockwork Orange) and see how he likes it! By the end, he’ll be reduced to a blubbering mess.

TS: Robin Williams had his moments of charm in both Hook and Good Morning, Vietnam. Discuss.

I hated both those movies! He was totally annoying (in both) and tried so hard to endear himself to his audience, it made me sick. I don’t know why no-one’s noticed that he’s a total racist in Good Morning Vietnam. He is so patronizing to the vietnamese people in that scene where he’s at the English speaking class – he talks to them like they were idiots. Hook was a terrible movie. It wasn’t fun or funny and the whole premise made no sense. I mean what was the deal with Wendy as an old woman? Was she still attracted to Peter Pan as a man, even though he was supposed to be like her son-in-law or something? Sick!

According to the artist, “anyone who fails to show up will go in my special HATE book and be hated forever after.” But apparently to be hated by Raquel is to be hand stitched twelve portraits of yourself which get exhibited for a fortnight. So even though we really want to go tonight, we’re kind of tempted not to.

*as in, catharsis. artistic license for hilarious wordplay granted by amelia.

Stealing > As a wise man once said, “The moon belongs to everyone, but the best things in life are free.” We believe it’s everyone’s right to own what they want to own. Our theory is: if you “steal” essentials such as food, toiletries and other such trivialities, it frees you up to buy those far more important necessities (drugs, jewelry, furs). Agreed?

BOGUE
Sports > Who the hell cares about sports anyway? Does it have any affect on our day-to-day lives at all? No! Well, only when the networks decide we give enough of a shit to want to watch it all day on every channel, all day on every channel, all day. Here’s the measure of whether you want to bother to ‘get to know’ someone – the simple question: Do you like sports? If the answer is yes, show them the door.

Unprofessionalism > Ok how hard is it? If you receive an email pertaining to a business matter, try and respond to it as quickly and professionally as possible. If they ask you questions, answer them back – don’t just skip over them and sprinkle your correspondence with exclamation marks and x’s and other ridiculous displays of emotion. Especially when you hardly even know this person. Cyber etiquette please.

Emily Hunt + Raquel Welch = Duke Magazine

+ Harlequin Tights: You can’t buy these anywhere, but you can DIY. Take two pairs of different coloured tights, cut them up the crotch and sew them back up with inverse colours. It’ll confuse everyone, but all you have to do is sing that song “Pure Imagination” from the Willy Wonka movie and umm… I guess they won’t be confused anymore.

BOGUE
+ Girls’ Night Out aka Girls (Looking For Guys) Night Out: Imagine a night on the town with a pack of scantily clad bellowing cows howling and salivating at every passing asshole. Reeking of desperation, these middle aged screaming hyenas drunkenly “dance” in an embarrassing attempt to look “sexy” but little do they know we’re all laughing at their expense. And here’s the catch 22 – we’re disgusted by their lewd behaviour, but yet they’re providing all the entertainment for the night!

+ Small Talk: Some people don’t realise, but when they say ’small talk’, they really mean BIG TALK. There’s nothing more painful than shooting the breeze with a bore with whom you have nothing in common – they’re talking about salad while all you can see is your life flashing before your eyes. One never considers how big a commitment it is to wile away precious time with a passing acquaintance. But like sands through the hourglass…

Emily Hunt + Raquel Welch = Duke Magazine

+ Dance Off Competitions: Is there anything more enthralling than watching as hordes of attention-hungry amateurs hound the dancefloor? How about pitting them against each other in vigorous, vomit-enducing elimination rounds, whittling them down to an explosive one-on-one finale, the crowd going wild a-la You Got Served? This is exactly the premise for DUKE’s 3rd Annual Dance-off (June 12th at Oxford Art Factory), a competition to crown the King or Queen of the dance-floor! Only exhibitionists need apply.

BOGUE
+ Zines: Spend incalculable hours drawing doodles wasting time, while working at Kinko’s/bookshop/record store/with retards. Type out (on a typewriter) your embarrassing emotional outpourings/’funny’ anecdotes/everyday occurrences and structure a crude biographical extract. Bare your soul. Cut-out and paste photos of strangers, amateur scribblings, old children’s book clippings and spend days assembling ‘haphazardly’. Photocopy, staple and then flog your humourless, self-indulgent waste for $2 max – RRP!

+ Growing Old: How sad to see over 35’s partying like the youthful imbeciles they once were (as opposed to the elderly imbeciles they are now).. How sad to have to grow old.. Women between the ages of 45-70 should kill themselves or go into hiding. Men however can do what they want – like a fine wine, they get better with age. That’s life.

Emily Hunt + Raquel Welch = Duke Magazine