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Actually being indie
Windows ’98. So retro.
Trippin’ out your trike & cruising down the Promenade
Getting your P’s
By Mark Rapaport & resident hipster Jeff Seeff
WELCOME, YOU! A note from us. (the editors) By Aaron Sentis and Mark Rapaport
Oh hey man. We see you sitting there. Reading your privately owned edition of The Bubble. I bet you’re enjoying yourself. Well done. If you picked this up because some yelled at you to pick up litter, put it back down. This is not litter. This is more than litter. This is the voice of the people. A way of life for all who are oppressed to express themselves through the world of prose. And cons. See what we did there? We have set about wheels of fate that once set in motion, cannot be displaced from their noble quest to bring about peace, equality and liberty. We could’ve sat back and done nothing. We could have ridden our jet-ski lions into to the sunset and made a few posters along the way, leaving the school in a state of misery and bleakness. 3
But this wasn’t to be. This is a NEW YEAR. Between these pages you will find the hard work, sweat and tears of our ridiculously good looking committee members. We called for aid with the great horns of Gondor. From far and wide they joined us. Not all came to our aid willingly, some were coerced, other we stole. For the rest, we ‘donated’ hefty sums of money to unlisted offshore bank accounts in the tax havens of the Pacific. And thus, we have assembled a team.An exclusive team like no other. Wanna join? Submit your stuff to themoriahbubble@gmail. com. All students from all years are welcome to submit anything they want, it’s a really great opportunity to vomit the contents of your mind onto a page and get kudos for it. That email again,
themoriahbubble@gmail. com. This story leads us to this bundle of paper in your very hands today. Cherish this edition. Frame it, send it to your grandparents and speak of us when you achieve positions of great power after you finish your Commerce/Law degree at UNSW. To ease you into the loving bosom of literary bliss, we have composed a short limerick for your enjoyment. Come see us personally to hear it. -Aaron and Mark.
Updates of the Leaders (Leadership Update) A short, concise, easy-to-read window into the complex brains of the Leadership Body
CAPTAINS • Welcoming back committee- balloons, cheering & watermelons • Arrival of the Year 12 common room- a hard fought win for the current and future student body • Radio Moriah- music @ lunch, send song requests to the Moriah Leaders facebook account • Planning & running Orientation Camp for the new Year 7’s
JLZ • An Israel Board, which has already been ordered will be hung behind the bubblers • A lunchtime Hebrew cafe with a coffee machine, food, and a place to come and speak hebrew & listen to music- get your Zionism face on • Renaming the classrooms (starting with the D block) to the names of streets of Jerusalem
HOUSE • Running Tour De Moriah! • Organising the upcoming Inter-House Drama Festival! Speak to House Captains to get involved • This year, we really want to bring back the house spirit and we are hoping to have some more fun and original house challenges such as volleyball at lunchtime plus more that have to be kept secret :)
PR • Videos, posters. ‘Nuff said. ‘Cept there’s more • Making the Leadership video • Making this magazine. Which one? This one.
SAC • Movember with charity committee- raising money for men’s health through the growth of facial prickly things • The recycling campaign, changing the face & floors of the school forever (or a long, long time)
SRC • Meetings scheduled to address different maintenance issues • Working on projects with Ms. Ingram to change the face of technology usage & behaviour, reward & punishment system • Sorting through letter-drop ideas to get some projects happening
CHARITY • Pink Day! The day was a great success and we managed to raise an amazing $1400 • Year 11’s participated in a fundraising even on Melbourne Cup day with a tutor group sweep & raffle- we managed to raise an incredible $800 for the RSPCA • This year, the Sydney to Woolongong Bike Race for MS included a Moriah team and in order to show our support, we sold drinks at Tour De Moriah- we raised $245 to add to the total raised by the Moriah team
The Food Review (muffins)
By Keyan Stubbie Kramer
You have got to love your muffins. They’re the good stuff, especially from the canteen. I’ve always wondered what was inside these delicious deserts. Every time I look at someone eating one, there is always someone with a different flavour. I always ask them what type of flavour they have got and most of them say “I have no idea to be honest”, which is true because on the outside of the muffin you clearly see choc chips on top of a chocolate muffin and other muffins seem to be berry. When you take bites into these muffins it’s like a surprise because you never know what’s in it. Usually when you take the top level off the muffins, it’s the melted choc chips which oozes into the muffin itself which is cool because sometimes if you’re lucky, there may be white choc chips as well for 2 different 5
flavours. As it comes off the chocolate muffins there are berries in there and it gives a nice texture to the muffins especially because the muffins are really soft so the mixture melts in your mouth. This new fusion of a new type of muffin which I’d like to call “Choc Chip Lé Berry”. I would say that when buying muffins, whether it be at breakfast, recess, lunch, I would say that winter is the best time to eat muffins because when you first receive the muffins, they’re soft and warm and when you take a bite out of them, the steam comes out and it’s good to go. These muffins are the best also because in winter everyone usually gets the munchies for some reason so you get 2 in 1- warmth and food. You have your money’s worth for this great chocolatey goodness.
So Close, Yet So Far A topical piece composed by Robbie Goku Di Veroli
It seems so long ago that we played ever so joyfully amongst the lush green meadow known as Smegalias Oval. The park was established in 2006 and named after the man who was brave enough to bring the first ever Steeden rugby league ball to school to start the tradition. This extraordinary man presents the world with a toned core identical to that of an ancient gladiator. This man, this born leader, this king of kings, is Alex Segal. The oval was more than a football field to the boys in the class of 2011, it was a lifestyle, it was a home, but unfortunately not for long. One morning as we all arrived at school as usual, we were barricaded by red tape, builders and bulldozers. We tried to stop it, but to no avail. Even Alex’s extraordinary core strength was not enough to stop these machines of vegetative destruction. Time froze as the joyful, sacred ground was desecrated and torn to shreds. A realisation dawned upon us. The world was changing. We couldn’t just strap in and enjoy the ride. We had to grab life’s [metaphorical] footballs and make our own destiny. As we sat in despair, we reminisced of moments past from our infamous rugby 6
games; We remembered Gogo's outrageous kicks on first tackle, claiming "Ya, it's for territory," the moment Greg Kremer took a grubber, that slowly rolled towards Joel, knocking his gourmet rice from his hands. We remembered how some of boys would play the game, while Rad and his crew would sit in the shade, guardians of the phones/keys/wallets/ties etc, and discuss Parkway Drive. Everyone was welcome on Smegalias Oval. Everyone could flourish with a sense of sociocultural belonging, felt nowhere else but on Smegalias Oval.
Those times are gone now. However not all is lost. The oval is nearing completion, perhaps we will one day, have the chance to frolic on our land again. For we remember. Lest we forget.
The Economics Report: Moriah’s Canteen By Alex Lips
Summer’s arrived in full swing, and the endearing canteen ladies that we have come to know & love have matched our eager-summerawaiting spirits with increased food and beverage prices. The sensational smell of summery Bondi air that we have been treated to in past weeks has served as a cold splash of water to our faces – a reminder to get fit and watch our calories to ready our hot-bods for the sand and surf. The inevitable increase in demand for salads, fruit and sandwiches has resulted in the excruciating increase of prices on all products containing the words ‘salad’ ‘tuna’ or ‘fruit.’ The regular salad/sandwichbar goers who carry just the right amount of change to buy their favourite item were dumbfounded and emotionally-paralysed as they realised their $3.80 just didn’t make the cut. Some were seen making puppy-dog faces to Julie, requesting to ‘borrow’ the extra 0.20cents it now cost for their daily supply of canteen-goodness. Others, whipped with resentment, whinging and moaning in antipathy to the price increase sarcastically remonstrated and secretly planned a take-over of Passion8 to put the ‘passion’ back into it. The price increase has launched a dominoeffect in the economy of Sydney’s Jewish
community. The marginal increase in consumer spending that this has brought on may lead to increased borrowing. In the short run, consumers have less money to spend on other luxury goods and services like the new school uniform, thus quality of life may decrease. In the long run, the cycle of increased canteen prices and increased borrowing will lead to increased consumer debt and could trigger a downward spiral and ultimately, another recession. Meanwhile, consumer confidence in the canteen has risen three-fold according to statistics released by the A.B.S. in October. SMH Economics Editor Prof. Mohay claims that this is the immediate impact of “increased excellence of the chocolate muffins and higher consumer satisfaction in the consistent temperature.” The labour efficiency rate of the business has gradually increased over the past six months, climaxing at 32.7 in September. Perhaps employees have had more time to foster extra love into the flour and sugar? Either way, the canteen-classics have always had us infatuated. The elasticity in demand is obvious. We will always love our muffins.
Clements’ War On Everything: Excursion To The Movies By Keyan Kramer & Nathan Bernfield
THE WAR ON: MICHAEL CERA “Michael Cera? C’mon, he’s from Juno. Don’t be sacrilegious for G-d’s sake, you’re a teenage boy, give me a break.”
THE WAR ON: MUFTI “When we wear mufti, don’t dress up as derelicts for G-d sake”
THE WAR ON: QUESTIONS Clements: How many questions have you done? Student: 10 Clements: Mate, you’re so slow, it’s like constipation
THE WAR ON: DRINKS Student: I’m going to get a drink Clements: Ok, wow. I hope he has a big bladder, he’s gonna be peeing like a racehorse
D’var Torah Parsha: Tetzaveh By Akiva Gluck
Clothes, to most of us, are a very important part to our daily life. People say that they need to look good in order to impress. For example, if you were to go into a job interview, you wouldn’t dress as if you were going to the beach. Instead you would come dressed in nice clothes to impress the potential employer. In this week’s parsha, it talks about the Kohein Gadol (the High Priest) and the clothes that he wore, and how he had to wear these amazing clothes in front of Hashem. The last item of clothing on the list was the Breastplate which held the 12 precious stones. Rabbi Chaim Shmuelevitz asks why these stones, which are the most precious and valuable of all the materials, are last on the list. His answer is simple, they come last because of a simple important ingredient missing- good will. Since the people who donated them had easy access to these stones, it wasn’t really much of a big deal to give up these stones. It is human nature that when something we give away isn’t important to us, we don’t really care about the certain item. When serving Hashem we must serve him with the highest level of good will. Since the donor didn’t really make much effort, that is why the Torah lists it last. There is a very important lesson we can learn here- that although there are some items which we care about more than others, it is important that we should be grateful for what we have and that everything Hashem provides us in life is really valuable and we should take good care of what we have.
Gilad Shalit: Days In Captivity: 1692
Gerald Geraldson vs The World an acquaintance, of another person who
staggered towards their kitchen-bathroom.
By Ari Friedgut & Jeff Seeff The characters and events depicted in this piece of non fiction are mildly fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, living, dead or living dead, is purely coincidental and we would never do anything to insult you. Or would we? If you have any problem with the contents of this work of art, please take it up with our manager Ryan Gadeley, and when confronting him with your problems, remember to scream very loudly and wave your arms in an angry fashion. Do not hold back with your anger, if you deem violence necessary, then by all means, do not be scared to use it. That is, we repeat, if you deem it necessary. It was an icy summer’s morning when Gerald awoke from his dazed slumber. He was dreaming about a fastidious leprechaun reciting Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night off by heart before climbing into the brain tissue of a morbidly obese pixie and... well, that was when the dream cut out. With a tired sigh,
He giggled. As Gerald stared around at the vacant room, he realised that all of his belongings had been stolen the previous night - Including the toilet-oven. This was probably the work of the tyrannical Bustin Jieber and his heaps alternative postexpressionist minions. The 12 year old’s rapid rise to teen power caught everyone by surprise. Before 2010 (Now known as Jieber Fever Year), Gerald was NASA’s chief aeronautical engineer. After Bustin Jieber had overthrown the previous leader, KRuddd the apologetic robot, Gerald was made redundant and in a spell of desperation, he had resorted to selling assorted Ice Creams on the street corners of Kings Cross, which led to people dubbing him “The Ice Cream Pimp.” Now, they had stolen the contents of his kitchen-bathroom. For shame. As Gerald drove down the staircase of his apartment block in his ice cream van which had the words “Creamy Goodness” painted flamboyantly along its right side, he approached the biggest man-child he had ever seen. The man-child, named Daniel Boboski, teared up as he watched Gerald driving in his van. “December first” he whispered to himself in a melancholy tone as
Gerald grumbled as he put on his teal and orange checkered pantaloons, adjusting his moustache, which was left slightly off centre after another reckless night of wild mushroom-binging and playing Dora the he stared despairingly down at his driver’s Explorer: Spelling Fun without his pants on. He license which had the word “SUSPENDED” staggered towards his kitchen-bathroom, recalling an amusing anecdote told to him by 10
stamped in the middle like colonisation in South East Asia. Gerald paid Boboski little
not retard as chunks bounced around the windows. Finally, a rogue chunk hit a button,
notice, simply emitting a short yawn in his direction, before viciously ploughing through him with his van. It was gruesome. There was candy EVERYWHERE.
the music stopped playing and the vomit was reduced to a tame drivel. He then scooped up the vomit and proceeded in freezing it, selling it as a new ice cream flavour; “chunky sherbet.”
Gerald had chosen the corners of Kings Cross as the place to purvey his frozen creameries for two main reasons. The first was that Bustin Jieber was still to young to go to clubs and therefore banned his minions
It was around one in the afternoon when he heard the unusual voice from the window asking about the double scoop chunky sherbet price. He was dozing, prior to this sudden
from going to Kings Cross, His minions however, showed little, if any concern. They declared that they were “too indie” and that they would rather hang out at “this really obscure place you’ve probably never heard of ” - otherwise known as Surrey Hills. Reason number two was that escorts loved ice-cream, and Gerald loved escorts. Gerald parked his van on top of a group of school children and blasted the siren out of the
disturbance, and was thus in a cranky disposition. He swiveled his head a full 180 degrees to catch a glimpse of this customer with the strangely-resonating voice in his eyes. Standing there, at the counter, was not a man. Nor was it an escort. Wait, no, it was a man. My bad. His name, Amanda Cromwell. He was a tall fellow, around three to fifteen hundred feet tall. Probably closer to three. He donned a strange monocle that was slung over
speakers. Instead of the traditional “Greensleeves”, Gerald was required by law to play Bustin Jieber’s single “Baby” from his hit album “One Time, and Maybe Even a Couple of Other Times.” ‘Baby’ had won 96 Grammys that year, including the now highly coveted “Best Pop Song Using 2 Lyrics Or Less” award. Upon hearing this tune for the umpteenth time, Gerald proceeded to vomit violently all over the interior of his van.
his ear with a piece of dental floss. Really quite a freakish chap, his psychedelic ragged appearance afflicted many with chills down their spines and caused their nostril hairs to stand on end. He wore green and blue striped tights, which started just before his frilly white tutu ended. His bare chest, divinely smooth, was blemished only by a love-heart tattoo which had “What would Jieberz do?” scribbled in cursive. This was, of course,
Drowned chunks of carrots and broccoli in a protocol. In fact, Gerald had one, though he seasonal stomach acid splattered over the did not like to acknowledge so openly. On dashboard. The flow of mucusy discharge did Amanda, this tattoo served as a cover up for 11
his significant role in the underground were previously talking about. When Gerald resistance. Supercalafragalisticexpialadocious. remembered, he instigated the conversation Gerald handed over the cup of chunky sherbet ice-cream (double scooped) topped with dandruff flakes, and Amanda brought the brown spoon to his mouth, seeming pensive as he savoured the intense flavours of the produce. “A bit nutty...” he remarked. “Perhaps too much onion in your system?” Gerald was taken aback at this. “How did
from where they had left off. “My toilet-oven you say?! You know where it is? You know where Bustin Jieber has taken it?” “Well... about that Gerald... I took your toilet-oven.” “What?! Why would you?” “Because I thought it would make you hate Bustin Jieber, and then join my group of rowdy partisans. You might know us as....
you know that it was my...” “Vomit, Gerald Geraldson?” he cut in. “Yes... and how do you know my...” “Name? I know a lot about you...... Gerald,” He quipped with a smug smile on his face. “Well, we have already determined that you know my...” “Name? I know a lot about you...... Gerald,” He quipped with a smug smile on his face. The two stood in silence for what seemed
The underground resistance.” “But I already hated Bustin Jieber, and now that I know you took it... why would I join you?” “Because I’m wearing Old Spice Body-wash and Deodorant. I’m practically irresistible” “Not really...” Gerald muffled as he smothered his nose between Amanda’s arm pits. Amanda backed away slowly... “So will you
about 30 seconds, it had in fact only been 27 seconds. It had, perhaps, been seemingly lengthened by the awkwardness of the situation. “I want you to join us Gerald. I know where your toilet-oven is.” Gerald’s face lit up with glee (one of his favourite television programs), and for the next half-hour, Amanda was enthralled by the colourful characters and the feel-good
join.. join.. join.. join..” Gerald thoughtfully pondered whether or not he should join when – “We have barbecues weekly.” added Amanda. That did it. “In that case... I feel compelled.” “So then that settles it, we will go and
nature of the show. After the credits rolled, it took the better half of three minutes for them to recall what they 12
To be continued..…
Overheard By Tamar Ruiz
“When I play drums, my dad makes me wear ear plugs so I don’t lose my eyesight” “I just realised that high-fiving yourself is the same as clapping” “I thought I heard Morgan Freeman narrating my life while I was in my bathroom. Turned out to be my brother watching Bruce Almighty” “Have you ever tried to outrun your shadow?” “Are there more African hair salons in Perth because it’s like, closer to Africa?” Mother to child on train: “Leave your pants on, there’s lots of people around”
The Wall: Best of Facebook By Sami Hurwitz, Dana Werner & Alex Lips
On a rainy night...
In the 40Ëš heat...
Games Page: Enter
Armadillo Bear Cat Dog Elephant Fish Gorilla Horse Iguana Kangaroo Llama Monkey Turtle 15
The Bubble Brought To You By Student P.R. Shout Outs To Contributors:
Jeff ‘Hipster’ Seeff Keyan ‘Stubbie’ Kramer Robbie ‘Goku’ Di Veroli Alex ‘Manocchio’ Lips Nathan ‘Senóir’ Bernfield Akiva ‘Y’ Gluck Ari ‘Gila’s Brother’ Friedgut Tamar ‘And This Is My Friend…’ Ruiz Sami ‘PR 2012’ Hurwitz Dana ‘PR 2012’ Werner Submissions to: email@example.com