I went along to my first ever session of the guild council for reasons that are as of yet unknown. While I was listening, enraptured, as a debate about cuts to education somehow spiralled into a cluster-fuck of non-insights into the military industrial complex, I couldn’t help but wonder whether having your innards shredded by birds of prey might be a more fulfilling way to spend an evening.
On one hand, the need for proper student representation is absolutely unquestionable, whereas one could probably do without a pack of hungry vultures incessantly chowing down on your carcass. That being said, those same vultures would probably be less self-congratulatory than the 105th Guild Council, and less inclined to veer off into abrasive, unproductive debates apparently designed to allow as many people in the room as much speaking time as possible.
Another problem is availability. A pack of vultures can be tough to track down in metropolitan Perth, while anyone is free to attend guild council. That being said, not everyone has the spare time to spend a literal eternity listening to hear their representatives talk at length about how “bombs aren’t magic, they’re science” (actual quote). For those amongst us who are time poor, I once again err on the side of the vultures.
I’ve really struggled to come up with a way to adequately voice just how little pleasure I took from last night’s meeting. Sitting through the inexplicably lengthy cross between a B-Division high-school debate and a live reading of someone’s resume was, for me, worse than any amount of physical pain I could endure at the hands of my avian assailants.
But that’s just my opinion, let me know in the comments what you would prefer: sifting through the toxic vapour of self-importance to sit through one guild council session, or being disembowelled by ugly, winged scavengers.
Hugh says “fight me, I’m moving to turkey”