So you remember that piece I did in the first edition about the origins of the name of our publication? Yeah just ignore that.
Turns out that was mainly wank. As seems to be the case the legend endures more than the truth and in typical Monash style the truth is much more bureaucratic than revolutionary. Don’t believe me though, flick through to Damien Broderick’s feature piece in this edition and read it straight from the Wife’s mouth.
Moving on though – I feel I may never get another opportunity to mention this particular bugbear of mine, so I might as well do it here and now. You’ve probably all seen at this stage a public restroom with a ‘how to’ sign on the wall. These signs don’t bother me – it’s some people’s reaction to them that does. I can’t help but feel that the snickering on the subject often conceals a tacit racial slur at the ‘uncivil’ people who try to squat on a toilet. Actually usually when I hear it mentioned it’s not even attempted to be covered up, perhaps that’s why I make the association all the time.
Truth be told though, the way that’s classified as verboten to shit in a toilet, popping the squat, is the way we were designed to do it. The ‘sophisticated’ sitting upright, feet flat, knees and hips level and pushing from your stomach is far likelier to blow out your intestines and cause a fatal prolapse of the colon. So the silver lining is that one day someone who takes this dim view of other peoples toilet habits will do themselves some serious harm by trying to do something so basic ‘the civilised way’.
Thanks: To Messer’s Broderick and Schauble for touching base with us on our fiftieth year (I don’t think I’ll be that nice 50 years from now).
No Thanks: Strange Weather and Wednesdays.
