Dominic Knight

I can admit now that my CD collection was assembled to impress women.

In my teens, I imagined the unwilling recipient of my latest crush letting her eyes play across the neatly arranged discs in my trendy IKEA shelves, slowly becoming convinced of my exceptional taste.

“You have all of the Cure albums,” she’d say, clearly impressed.

“I’m a fan,” I’d say, hinting at the intense inner turmoil that I shared with Robert Smith. The torrent of powerful emotions churning beneath my cool exterior that, if she chose, she could unleash. Continue Reading →

Today is the day when billions of people across the world eat, drink, open presents and generally make merry in celebration of Jesus Christ’s birthday.

At this time of year, it’s common to observe that as with most major Christian festivals, the secularisation of society has made today just another occasion for indulgence rather than anything more profound. Which means that Christmas has largely returned to its roots in the winter solstice and the Roman Saturnalia.

It’s ironic that the church’s effective early marketing decision to co-opt existing festivals has been turned on its head, as the once-Christianised pagan festivals have been re-paganised by our own indulgent era. But part of me suspects it’s a pity that Christmas isn’t about anything more than spending lots of money on gifts few of us really need and food that most of our waistlines certainly don’t.

Since comparatively few of us are religious, and the tradition has never had all that much to do with its supposed theological theme anyway, what is the point of Christmas in 2013? Given the fuss we make over it, surely it must mean something more than that there’s 24 hours until the Boxing Day Test?

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Twelve months ago today, a child was born in the little town of Sydney, Australia. It did not happen in a manger, he definitely had a crib for a bed, and although a bright light was seen in the sky, it was probably just a passing satellite.

There were wise men in attendance, though, and wise women too – neonatal care is wonderful nowadays.

Now this child, whose name was certainly not called wonderful counsellor, everlasting father or prince of peace, and on whose shoulders the government will highly likely not rest (I’m quoting Isaiah via Handel’s Messiah, for you heathens), is almost certainly not the Messiah. Then again, he’s not a very naughty boy. Continue Reading →

The silly season is upon us, and of course there are few sillier things you can do than getting together with all the people you work with and becoming so intoxicated that you lose your judgement, and potentially your job.

So how can you have a great time with your colleagues, impress the bosses on whose preference your advancement depends, and keep the underlings who’d just love to take your place the moment you slip nice and downtrodden like they’re supposed to be? This guide has all the answers. Continue Reading →

Adam Levine is the Sexiest Man Alive, according to no less a source than People magazine. I know, right? Adam Levine. Not only sexy, but sexiest. I haven’t been this surprised since I discovered Clive Palmer was actually going ahead with the Titanic II.

If you’ve ever listened to the music of the bizarrely-named Maroon 5 – as opposed to Maroon 8, which would be Queensland’s state of origin winning streak, which I don’t like to talk about – he’s the guy with the voice so high that playing his music to dogs makes them hump the nearest available leg. And who knows – judging by the vote, perhaps it has that effect on humans, too?

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I am a good reader. I know what lots of long words mean. Words that you wouldn’t necessarily expect me to know, I do, in fact, know. And I can read pretty quickly, too. Because, as I mentioned, I am a good reader.

At one point in my life, it would have been extremely important to me that you knew what an excellent reader I was. I was reminded of this last week, when I attended the final of the NSW Premier’s Spelling Bee and ran into Barbara Ryan, one of my old kindergarten teachers from North Sydney Demonstration School who now teaches at St Ives North.

After we figured out the connection, she recounted a story that has had me laughing and wincing ever since. Apparently when I arrived at kindy, she gave me a standard-issue reader, and asked me whether I read books.

My reply was “I don’t read books, I read encyclopaedias.” Continue Reading →