http://www.theage.com.au/national/caution-urged-for-travellers-who-take-the-myki-on-trams-20100128-n1pp.html
Caution urged for travellers who take the myki on trams
The headline is telling, isn't it? Take caution if you're using myki on a tram. Take caution... for using the new ticketing system like you're supposed to. It's never fun to be right in the face of futility, but already, myki is deliciously ludicrous. If a system isn't ready to be in use yet, then perhaps there shouldn't be big, bold signs around stations declaring 'myki is here', right next to the large machines to sell these things that you shouldn't even be using?
The article contains...
Myki equipment is operational on trams, with more than 1000 people officially testing the system. The Government is now aware, through social media sites, that some commuters are using myki on trams.
Ticket inspectors have been issued with myki card readers and it is understood people caught using myki on trams will be advised not to.
People are... getting caught using myki. It's like it's a crime, for goodness sake! So is the government telling us not to use myki, or telling us to buy myki for our train trips, and then buy an additional Metcard for tram use?!
The fact that some commuters were using myki cards on trams ''shows a lot of people do want to be able to use the one ticket on trains, trams and buses,'' Mr Bowen said.
...As opposed to wanting to pay for two separate tickets. Pardon the crassness, but no shit, Sherlock.
New Public Transport Minister Martin Pakula has said he expects myki to be up and running on trams and buses by the end of the year. Transport Ticketing Authority spokeswoman Jean Ker Walsh said myki was not valid for use on trams.
So if you want to actually use myki in an efficient way, you'll have to wait yet another year. Such a shame for the poor folks who have already gotten one, isn't it? First they force this system down our throat, then they swiftly yank it from our gullet, leaving us choking on worthless money we've already invested into it.
And finally, this tidbit here is something I particularly like -
Meanwhile, documents released to the State Opposition under freedom of information laws show that the Government paid $1.2 million to change the screens of myki validators from black and white to colour.
..."The change was made to myki readers to help people who have a vision impairment see the on-screen information,'' [Ker Walsh] said.
Implication that the vision impaired need to see how myki tells them to swipe their card. Implication that it's important that people are given false information, since we are now being instructed not to swipe our card on trams. This isn't just hilariously inept, but dangerously inept, particularly for someone who uses as much public transport as myself.
Although I did foresee myki's introduction being a bumpy, sloppy ride, I didn't foresee the government having the gall to declare its use as the mistake of the public. That right there, is so rich, it's downright creamy.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
S. A.
I remember back in the days when Myspace was all the rage. Back then, my blog was in its glory days, because it was a prominent feature on a popular page. Tragically, Myspace is a ghost town these days, and the times when I curiously stumble upon that old graveyard on the off chance that I might have any new notifications, I usually find it's some band who wants me to become a fan. Are those things spam? I consider them spam, so I mark them as such. Tony could be directly at fault for the downfall of the music industry.
Anyhow, my blog was once a great little opportunity to shamelessly advertise all of my upcoming performances, and though Facebook's events is no doubt a superior medium for making a performance a night out, I still miss my little advertisement blogs. I miss my blog as a whole, now relegated to an actual blogging site where I have no connections. Without connections, my blog relies solely on the strength of its content in order to garner any interest. ...And clearly, judging by the fact that I haven't really noticed any interest at all, my content is shithouse.
Right then. Advertising.
Having left the wild world of amateur theatre behind me, it's a bit harder to catch up on your dose of Tony, seeing as I've gone from the front of the stage to a quiet corner tucked away in the back of films, but I've recently come off recording my bit for a radio play that I'd love for anyone out there to hear.
It's called Fantasbojou, and I take the reigns of Ashley, a camp hip-hop artist. You can listen in on the Spoken Word on Thursday, 4th February at 9 am. 3CR Community radio, 855AM. So be sure to listen, for otherwise my gay little guy may fall to the wayside. And we can't have that, now can we?
Anyhow, my blog was once a great little opportunity to shamelessly advertise all of my upcoming performances, and though Facebook's events is no doubt a superior medium for making a performance a night out, I still miss my little advertisement blogs. I miss my blog as a whole, now relegated to an actual blogging site where I have no connections. Without connections, my blog relies solely on the strength of its content in order to garner any interest. ...And clearly, judging by the fact that I haven't really noticed any interest at all, my content is shithouse.
Right then. Advertising.
Having left the wild world of amateur theatre behind me, it's a bit harder to catch up on your dose of Tony, seeing as I've gone from the front of the stage to a quiet corner tucked away in the back of films, but I've recently come off recording my bit for a radio play that I'd love for anyone out there to hear.
It's called Fantasbojou, and I take the reigns of Ashley, a camp hip-hop artist. You can listen in on the Spoken Word on Thursday, 4th February at 9 am. 3CR Community radio, 855AM. So be sure to listen, for otherwise my gay little guy may fall to the wayside. And we can't have that, now can we?
Friday, January 15, 2010
Auditions: a necessary evil
Have you ever directed something before? Odds are, if you frequent the theatre world, you have. Cripes, even I've directed once before, and lord knows I was dreadful at it. But what I'm getting at here, is that if you've directed, or at least been part of the casting process, or even if you've just done a group audition before, you'll have seen a bad audition.
You know the kind. The one that you're watching, and you think to yourself - 'are you serious?', where you feel embarassed for them, and once they've left the room, you exchange a few glances with others around you, mystified by the tragic display you were just privy to. I don't audition well, I know that, but at least in the theatre circuit, I've auditioned at least well enough to land a few key roles here and there. Some auditions have been better than others, and for some I've been so woefully unprepared that I probably didn't deserve the role (ie. Demetrius; an audition carried only by the strength of my improv).
Now that I'm fleshing out into the unknown world of TV and film auditions, I'm branching into uncharted territory, without the familiar faces who regularly frequented HTC Youth. And in this time, I've done a few bad auditions. Some so bad, that I walked away knowing that it'd be a cold day in hell before I appeared in front of their cameras.
Today, however, was something else. Today, I pulled off one of those infamous 'WTF' auditions. I came early, first to audition, and left as the one who'd make them fear a long day lied ahead as they crumpled up my details form and flung it in the vague direction of the garbage bin.
It was, and people who know me will find this hilarious, an audition for an automotive company commercial. Yes, a car company.
I've seen less time behind the wheel than Maggie Simpson, and yet there I was, toting the claim that I could 'give a genuine performance'.
Handily enough, I was going for the role of the confused customer, seeking help with my car. Before beginning, the gentleman in charge asked me what kind of car I drove. Panic crossed my face, and he then swapped over to asking what kind of car I drove in Canada. This was no doubt my last shot; the next question was likely - 'why in the hell are you auditioning for a car commercial?'
I hastily declared that I drove my dad's car around the mean streets of Courtenay.
'What kind of car?' he asked.
'...A Dodge.' my eventual response.
His next question included the term '4.0' and the type of gas it used, and I was dead out of luck. He kindly informed me that their particular advertising company also did ads for other products, so even if I didn't land this role (code for when I don't land the role), I can be considered for future projects. Great. So I'm basically fighting for my future with this entire company on this one ad, armed with nothing but an imaginary Dodge.
'Hi,' the gentleman said, playing the employee, 'How can I help you today?'
'Yeah, I've got a Dodge, and... I'm having issues with it, I'm just lost, man.' Truer words never said in an audition.
'Alright then, what kind of engine is it? 4.0 or...'
'Umm yeah, not too sure. It's my dad's, and... Yeah.'
'Do you know what kind of oil does it take? Synthetic or natural?'
'Natural, I think... I hope. I mean, that's what I'm putting in there.'
The light on the camera goes off, and the gentleman thanks me. He says he got the vibe of what I'm trying to do. He gives me the warmest, most sympathetic smile I've ever received, and thanked me for coming. His seated cohort had an expression better suited to the performance I had just given, and I departed. Nearly went out the wrong exit, too, just lucky I stalled with my iPhone while actually scanning for the proper exit. It would have actually been rather appropriate to have thrown open a door, and been buried under a comical barrage of brooms. Or an anvil. But I don't think they had anvils in their closets.
To my credit, I no doubt made the next dude look like a superstar, and the only future role I could secure with that company would be as the 'before' clip for an acting school.
Oh well. You're bound to have a stinker every now and then, and theoretically, there's nowhere to go from here but up. Unless the next audition relies on the strength of my knowledge on brain surgery or the history of cricket. If that were the case, I'd just get into my Dodge and drive away as fast as I can.
You know the kind. The one that you're watching, and you think to yourself - 'are you serious?', where you feel embarassed for them, and once they've left the room, you exchange a few glances with others around you, mystified by the tragic display you were just privy to. I don't audition well, I know that, but at least in the theatre circuit, I've auditioned at least well enough to land a few key roles here and there. Some auditions have been better than others, and for some I've been so woefully unprepared that I probably didn't deserve the role (ie. Demetrius; an audition carried only by the strength of my improv).
Now that I'm fleshing out into the unknown world of TV and film auditions, I'm branching into uncharted territory, without the familiar faces who regularly frequented HTC Youth. And in this time, I've done a few bad auditions. Some so bad, that I walked away knowing that it'd be a cold day in hell before I appeared in front of their cameras.
Today, however, was something else. Today, I pulled off one of those infamous 'WTF' auditions. I came early, first to audition, and left as the one who'd make them fear a long day lied ahead as they crumpled up my details form and flung it in the vague direction of the garbage bin.
It was, and people who know me will find this hilarious, an audition for an automotive company commercial. Yes, a car company.
I've seen less time behind the wheel than Maggie Simpson, and yet there I was, toting the claim that I could 'give a genuine performance'.
Handily enough, I was going for the role of the confused customer, seeking help with my car. Before beginning, the gentleman in charge asked me what kind of car I drove. Panic crossed my face, and he then swapped over to asking what kind of car I drove in Canada. This was no doubt my last shot; the next question was likely - 'why in the hell are you auditioning for a car commercial?'
I hastily declared that I drove my dad's car around the mean streets of Courtenay.
'What kind of car?' he asked.
'...A Dodge.' my eventual response.
His next question included the term '4.0' and the type of gas it used, and I was dead out of luck. He kindly informed me that their particular advertising company also did ads for other products, so even if I didn't land this role (code for when I don't land the role), I can be considered for future projects. Great. So I'm basically fighting for my future with this entire company on this one ad, armed with nothing but an imaginary Dodge.
'Hi,' the gentleman said, playing the employee, 'How can I help you today?'
'Yeah, I've got a Dodge, and... I'm having issues with it, I'm just lost, man.' Truer words never said in an audition.
'Alright then, what kind of engine is it? 4.0 or...'
'Umm yeah, not too sure. It's my dad's, and... Yeah.'
'Do you know what kind of oil does it take? Synthetic or natural?'
'Natural, I think... I hope. I mean, that's what I'm putting in there.'
The light on the camera goes off, and the gentleman thanks me. He says he got the vibe of what I'm trying to do. He gives me the warmest, most sympathetic smile I've ever received, and thanked me for coming. His seated cohort had an expression better suited to the performance I had just given, and I departed. Nearly went out the wrong exit, too, just lucky I stalled with my iPhone while actually scanning for the proper exit. It would have actually been rather appropriate to have thrown open a door, and been buried under a comical barrage of brooms. Or an anvil. But I don't think they had anvils in their closets.
To my credit, I no doubt made the next dude look like a superstar, and the only future role I could secure with that company would be as the 'before' clip for an acting school.
Oh well. You're bound to have a stinker every now and then, and theoretically, there's nowhere to go from here but up. Unless the next audition relies on the strength of my knowledge on brain surgery or the history of cricket. If that were the case, I'd just get into my Dodge and drive away as fast as I can.
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