Quidditch, for the uninitiated, came from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter books. Played by wizards, the teams fly on broomsticks to secure goals and catch the "snitch" -- a tiny, gold, insect-like ball. On land, Quidditch is played on a field and the snitch is a person with a sock dangling from their trousers.
Anna James is an Australian journalist. Email email@example.com.
Mitchell Pearce's behaviour was more than ugly. It was a sad and hard-to-digest snapshot of Australia's binge-drinking epidemic. To argue that this incident is uniquely NRL's or Pearce's problem dismisses the wider truth of our culture of the bottle.
01/02/2016 11:33 AM AEDT
Why schlep to Vide-O-Drama when you can get all 10 hours of Making a Murderer right this second? Because there's a price to pay. I'm not afraid of government crackdown, or James Cameron banging at my door. I fear of contributing to a scarier reality, one without video stores...
20/01/2016 5:03 AM AEDT
While I'm not ready to don a muumuu and become 'the girl with the good personality', hot dogs and devon sandwiches are back on the rotation. Along with broccoli, $7-organic avocados and those little red berries that give people superpowers. But I really don't want to talk about it anymore.
07/01/2016 5:05 AM AEDT
Booze. Arrests. Drugs. Assaults. Spew. Noise. Trashed hotel rooms... But for every drunken kid pissing on your KIA, another is making a good decision.
10/12/2015 5:28 AM AEDT
Proponents of 'clicktivism' believes that it's a cathartic experience for the user, which creates awareness powerful enough to enact real-world change. Opponents view it as nothing more than mindless mouse-clicking, an artificial, faddish commitment to a cause with no follow-through.
24/11/2015 12:36 PM AEDT
For the first week without the internet I reached for my iPhone, feeling the phantom of impending urgency. I had no idea how much I relied on the internet to carry me through life, and how diminished my patience and problem-solving skills were as a result.
12/10/2015 5:21 AM AEDT
The day before I entered rehab, I called their receptionist. "One last thing -- there's no internet, right?" I was more concerned whether my Twitter account, not I, would survive an eight-month hiatus. My drug of choice? Alcohol. And Twitter.
01/10/2015 9:06 AM AEST
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