The Daily Rhino
Monday, June 26, 2006
Revision: IT BRINGS DEATH
I THOUGHT I'd copy what other journalists do (did I just refer to myself as a journalist? Sorry about that) and post up random articles they've written elsewhere on their own blog, where far less people will read them. Ah well, it saves having to spend time thinking about an original blog post.
HARK! Is that the songbird of revision I hear chirping? No of course it isn't, revision has no sound; how foolish. Understand this - revision is taciturn; it silently pulls your heart out through your feet and methodically beats all the life out of it with the stump of your spinal column. Yes, revision kills. All over London, medical students are slowly dying - all secondary to revision, which has replaced Tetris as the UK's third highest cause of death, after myocardial infarction and radish.
This should come as no surprise to anyone abreast of the latest evidence-based medicine, which is why you are undoubtedly surprised. As proof, I could now quote some general medical shit at you, but you don't want that. You want to understand why and how revision kills and what you can do to stop it. Revision, contrary to popular belief, rots the mind.
Is this what you want? Revision will make it happen
The brain is a complex, and by that I mean remarkably simple, semi-cybernetic device. With every useless factoid about 'medicine' or 'surgery', more valuable knowledge is pushed out of your brain. Most areas of the brain are devoted to goat's cheese, Simpsons quotes and stethoscope-swinging murder techniques.
A tiny proportion, maybe a part of the brain the size of a sugar cube is devoted to all conscious functioning. Although we're talking about a sugar cube that is one quarter the size of a conventional sugar cube. Revision doesn't belong there, because 1 - it smells and 2 - it's a form of mind control which will end your life.
Revision wields its evil power thanks to the phenomenon of "exams", which provoke otherwise reasonable humans to engage in what is clearly a hazardous pursuit. Most post-mortem specimens whose demise was due to revision-related injuries are so hideously disfigured by the time they reached the morgue that little research has been possible.
However the poor souls who died in their own medical school's library (this will probably be you, soon) have occasionally been carted down to the coroner in time. What they discovered will chill you to the bone and you will probably never be able to sleep peacefully again.
Revision turns out to be a vector-borne disease, like malaria - but more "fucked up". These are the words of Professor Hurley "von" von Tempest (pictured below), the leading expert on revision. He has documented evidence of flesh-eating parasites that enter the body via the eyes, causing unimaginable pain. It seems that whichever bright spark named eyes the "window to the soul" has turned out to be some morbid dick.
Professor Hurley "von" von Tempest demonstrating the dangers of revision: OBVIOUS
Hungry revision parasites quickly track up the optic nerve and flood the brain. Within days the entire cortex has been devoured and blood streams forth from all orifices. ALL orifices. Yet there remains a darker, more disturbing aspect to the global, and bizarrely underestimated, threat of human-eating revision. What is yet to happen.
Found buried in a Pastest book, between the misspellings and poor grammar, Zachariah "Chewable" Heshapsut stumbled upon The Prophecy.
They came long before us. Their sovereignty over this mortal realm was supreme, but in their opulence they grew complacent and power was soon ceded to us. For them, beings that had enjoyed free reign for millions of years, our ascent was rapid. From rudimentary gatherings of ape-like apes, huddled beneath black monoliths, we became hairless hominids almost overnight.
Their reaction was slow at first, we consumed their resources and they became weak. But then they drew plans to enslave us all. They created revision. The Prophecy foretells of the day that enough of us are doing filthy revision upon ourselves, the so-called 'critical math'. When sufficient numbers of people are revising, they will rise and we will all be eaten.
The concentrated evil has been sleeping for aeons, but slumbers only to awaken once more and rid the earth of humans. No one will live.
Spread the word, revision is merely malevolent mind control, wool that's been pulled over our eyes to once again make the oceans run red with our blood. Do whatever you can not to revise. House, Scrubs, Lost, The Apprentice - these have been created by underground rebels to help you in your quest to avoid revising.
However, despite appeals from myself, the President "of" Angola and Brent "Data" Spiner, it seems the end is inevitable. When the day of reckoning comes, all I can hope for is that I am eaten first. If you have sense, you'll pray for the same, to whatever ultimately ineffectual god you believe in.
If you are unlucky enough to still be alive as they wreak havoc upon our world, your mind will simply implode with the utter depravity. BREAK THIS CYCLE OF HORROR AND VIOLATION: DO NOT REVISE.
I'm doing my bit. Are you? Help others go mad with the knowledge of their impending doom, tell them they will all be eaten.
Originally published in the May issue of Medical Student Newspaper. I was revising for finals, my mind was hurting.
Taggart: medicine, medical, medical students, medical school, humour
I THOUGHT I'd copy what other journalists do (did I just refer to myself as a journalist? Sorry about that) and post up random articles they've written elsewhere on their own blog, where far less people will read them. Ah well, it saves having to spend time thinking about an original blog post.
Revision: IT BRINGS DEATH
HARK! Is that the songbird of revision I hear chirping? No of course it isn't, revision has no sound; how foolish. Understand this - revision is taciturn; it silently pulls your heart out through your feet and methodically beats all the life out of it with the stump of your spinal column. Yes, revision kills. All over London, medical students are slowly dying - all secondary to revision, which has replaced Tetris as the UK's third highest cause of death, after myocardial infarction and radish.
This should come as no surprise to anyone abreast of the latest evidence-based medicine, which is why you are undoubtedly surprised. As proof, I could now quote some general medical shit at you, but you don't want that. You want to understand why and how revision kills and what you can do to stop it. Revision, contrary to popular belief, rots the mind.
Is this what you want? Revision will make it happen
The brain is a complex, and by that I mean remarkably simple, semi-cybernetic device. With every useless factoid about 'medicine' or 'surgery', more valuable knowledge is pushed out of your brain. Most areas of the brain are devoted to goat's cheese, Simpsons quotes and stethoscope-swinging murder techniques.
A tiny proportion, maybe a part of the brain the size of a sugar cube is devoted to all conscious functioning. Although we're talking about a sugar cube that is one quarter the size of a conventional sugar cube. Revision doesn't belong there, because 1 - it smells and 2 - it's a form of mind control which will end your life.
Q. How does it kill?
A. IT EATS YOU
A. IT EATS YOU
Revision wields its evil power thanks to the phenomenon of "exams", which provoke otherwise reasonable humans to engage in what is clearly a hazardous pursuit. Most post-mortem specimens whose demise was due to revision-related injuries are so hideously disfigured by the time they reached the morgue that little research has been possible.
However the poor souls who died in their own medical school's library (this will probably be you, soon) have occasionally been carted down to the coroner in time. What they discovered will chill you to the bone and you will probably never be able to sleep peacefully again.
Revision turns out to be a vector-borne disease, like malaria - but more "fucked up". These are the words of Professor Hurley "von" von Tempest (pictured below), the leading expert on revision. He has documented evidence of flesh-eating parasites that enter the body via the eyes, causing unimaginable pain. It seems that whichever bright spark named eyes the "window to the soul" has turned out to be some morbid dick.
Professor Hurley "von" von Tempest demonstrating the dangers of revision: OBVIOUS
Hungry revision parasites quickly track up the optic nerve and flood the brain. Within days the entire cortex has been devoured and blood streams forth from all orifices. ALL orifices. Yet there remains a darker, more disturbing aspect to the global, and bizarrely underestimated, threat of human-eating revision. What is yet to happen.
The Prophecy
Found buried in a Pastest book, between the misspellings and poor grammar, Zachariah "Chewable" Heshapsut stumbled upon The Prophecy.
They came long before us. Their sovereignty over this mortal realm was supreme, but in their opulence they grew complacent and power was soon ceded to us. For them, beings that had enjoyed free reign for millions of years, our ascent was rapid. From rudimentary gatherings of ape-like apes, huddled beneath black monoliths, we became hairless hominids almost overnight.
Their reaction was slow at first, we consumed their resources and they became weak. But then they drew plans to enslave us all. They created revision. The Prophecy foretells of the day that enough of us are doing filthy revision upon ourselves, the so-called 'critical math'. When sufficient numbers of people are revising, they will rise and we will all be eaten.
The concentrated evil has been sleeping for aeons, but slumbers only to awaken once more and rid the earth of humans. No one will live.
What can you do?
Spread the word, revision is merely malevolent mind control, wool that's been pulled over our eyes to once again make the oceans run red with our blood. Do whatever you can not to revise. House, Scrubs, Lost, The Apprentice - these have been created by underground rebels to help you in your quest to avoid revising.
However, despite appeals from myself, the President "of" Angola and Brent "Data" Spiner, it seems the end is inevitable. When the day of reckoning comes, all I can hope for is that I am eaten first. If you have sense, you'll pray for the same, to whatever ultimately ineffectual god you believe in.If you are unlucky enough to still be alive as they wreak havoc upon our world, your mind will simply implode with the utter depravity. BREAK THIS CYCLE OF HORROR AND VIOLATION: DO NOT REVISE.
I'm doing my bit. Are you? Help others go mad with the knowledge of their impending doom, tell them they will all be eaten.
Originally published in the May issue of Medical Student Newspaper. I was revising for finals, my mind was hurting.
Taggart: medicine, medical, medical students, medical school, humour
Labels: death, idiocy, medical students, Rohinplasty articles
Friday, June 23, 2006
Ebert and Rohin
I BLAME Holland and the Druids. My Dutch and pagan ancestors were resurrected this summer solstice, as I donned my orange T-shirt to spite the Argies and worship the sun god (or whatever Druids did) by watching Argentina vs. Holland. Meh, boring match. So we drank. Then we thought a real-life Street Fighter II re-enactment was in order.
Ah, how we laughed as we hadookened.
Later, friend says "friend, your thumb."
I say "Oh yes, that's odd. Friend, I need to go to hospital."
It turns out being a doctor DOES have some advantages. About ten days after becoming one, I discovered preferential treatment. No, that's a lie. I demanded preferential treatment. And copious amounts of Entonox (nitrous oxide), which would've been useful had my uninjured friend not had more than me.
A fractured metatarsal is the England team injury - Beckham, Owen, Rooney. But a mashed up metacarpo-phalangeal joint and fractured metacarpal is pure Bollywood. Why?
And Hrithik Roshan recently broke his thumb. HENCE it's surely only a matter of time before either him or I become the next face of...
I still don't know how it happened, but I blame those goddamned Druids. And the Dutch.
I BLAME Holland and the Druids. My Dutch and pagan ancestors were resurrected this summer solstice, as I donned my orange T-shirt to spite the Argies and worship the sun god (or whatever Druids did) by watching Argentina vs. Holland. Meh, boring match. So we drank. Then we thought a real-life Street Fighter II re-enactment was in order.
Ah, how we laughed as we hadookened.
Later, friend says "friend, your thumb."
I say "Oh yes, that's odd. Friend, I need to go to hospital."
It turns out being a doctor DOES have some advantages. About ten days after becoming one, I discovered preferential treatment. No, that's a lie. I demanded preferential treatment. And copious amounts of Entonox (nitrous oxide), which would've been useful had my uninjured friend not had more than me.
A fractured metatarsal is the England team injury - Beckham, Owen, Rooney. But a mashed up metacarpo-phalangeal joint and fractured metacarpal is pure Bollywood. Why?
And Hrithik Roshan recently broke his thumb. HENCE it's surely only a matter of time before either him or I become the next face of...
I still don't know how it happened, but I blame those goddamned Druids. And the Dutch.
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