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jase
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Where Are They Now?
- Thread starter darknstormy
- Start date
M
Miajahar
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Don't know whether this has been mentioned before, but I was in the country over the weekend and discovered Rebecca Dent (BB07) was hosting Landed Music on the regional version of channel 10..
Ben Archibald|Michael McCoy
Ben Archibald is the solicitor acting on behalf of Walter Marsh the person who allegedly murdered Sydney nurse, Michelle Beets.
**********
Article - 'I wanna be famous'
Re: Michael McCoy BB 2006
Source: smh
Children used to want to be doctors or lawyers when they grew up. Today they'll settle for being
Anyone who insists that fame ain't all it's cracked up to be needs to talk to Michael McCoy. As a contestant on the 2006 series of Big Brother, McCoy has thoroughly enjoyed - correction: ''absolutely freakin' loved'' - his 15 minutes of fame, of which he is, by his own admission, down to the last 30 seconds.
''It's been totally insane,'' McCoy says. ''Everything was free - sex, drugs, alcohol. I have never drunk so much in my life. The day I came out from the Big Brother house, I went to a nightclub and was chased out by 30 women.''
After the series finished, McCoy and his fellow housemates were paid by Harry M. Miller to tour Australia visiting nightclubs. ''We got paid between $1250 and $4000 to show up to a club, drink as much as we could and autograph women's breasts. I went from being a 26-year-old single guy who would go out at night and maybe come home with one girl's number to going out and having girls line up for my autograph.''
As they waited, the girls would write their phone numbers on a beer coaster, which they then gave to McCoy. ''But there were so many numbers on so many coasters that I had to get my PR chaperone to take photos of the girls holding up their coaster, so I knew who was who.''
The attention became addictive. ''We started thinking, shit, when is this all going to end? When are we going to be forgotten?''
Pretty quickly, as it happens. McCoy is now back to his old anonymous self, and is happily studying law at the University of NSW. But his brush with celebrity goes a long way to explaining the seismic shift in children's aspirations over the past generation.
''Once upon a time if you asked kids what they wanted to be, they invariably said doctors or lawyers,'' a child psychologist, Dr Michael Carr-Gregg, says. "These days what you hear is 'famous'. 'I want to be famous'. Over the past generation we have bred a celebrity-obsessed culture, which I don't think is a good thing.''
Carr-Gregg cites a Pew Research Centre poll from the US in 2007, in which 81 per cent of the 18- to 25-year-olds surveyed said getting rich was their generation's most important or second-most-important life goal; 51 per cent said the same about being famous. ''Now I suspect that those numbers would have reversed: 51 per cent would want to be rich and 81 per cent would want to be famous.''
A similar study in Britain last year found that the top three career aspirations for five to 11-year-olds were sports star, pop star and actor, compared with teacher, banker and doctor 25 years ago.
In Australia, it's not much better. ''I see a lot of girls who just want to be Miley Cyrus or Paris Hilton,'' a Sydney child psychologist, Kimberley O'Brien, says. "Some of them even mention [animated character] Gwen 10. I mean, they are even into cartoon famous people.''
On one level at least, this lust for fame - what Lord Byron called the ''thirst of youth'' - makes perfect sense. If, as Michael McCoy discovered, fame means free beer and plenty of sex, then who would say no? But today's 24/7 celebrity culture is more complex than that, a volatile blend of saturation media and ancient instinct. In his 2007 book Fame Junkies, the author Jake Halpern talks about how even Stone Age hunters are thought to have competed for celebrity-like status. Halpern discusses the Hazda, a small, isolated tribe in present-day Tanzania, the exploits of whose top hunters are zealously tracked by the group's younger boys. Hazda hunters generally pass up chances to bag smaller prey, waiting instead for bigger animals - giraffes, buffaloes, zebras - the killing of which not only ensures more meat but also generates ''great stories and tremendous buzz''.
In the digital age, you don't have to kill a giraffe to generate a buzz; just tell a good lie, like Clare ''Chk-Chk Boom'' Werbeloff, a 19-year-old PR worker whose ''eyewitness account'' of a shooting in Kings Cross made her an internet sensation last year. Her story about what happened between ''the fat wog'' and ''the skinny wog'' would have gone nowhere, of course, had it not been for television and the internet, two omnipresent media which have, like megaphones in a madhouse, allowed anybody to tell any story to anyone they want.
''That exposure amounts to cachet,'' Carr-Gregg says. ''And what you see is that kids go psychologically where the respect is. Kids perceive that fame not only gives you lots of nice things but also gives you respect, just as, say, being a doctor or lawyer did in our day.''
Reality TV has exacerbated this, ''because it showed that ordinary people could become famous. You didn't have to study for, say, seven years to become a doctor. You didn't have to work hard or have any particular talent.''
Of course, not all children are the same. Joe Tucci is the chief executive of the Australian Childhood Foundation, a charity based in Melbourne. As part of his work, Tucci oversees the State of Childhood Survey, which periodically canvases 500 children aged between seven and 12. ''The last one we did, in 2007, showed there were three clear groups,'' he says. ''At one end of the spectrum was the confident group, which made up 52 per cent of the kids. These kids had solid relationships, and they had more of a clear picture of who they wanted to be. At the other end was the disconnected group, which made up 8 per cent. These kids were deeply pessimistic and insular. They didn't have any sense of what they wanted to be. Often they genuinely believed the world would be over by the time they were old anyway.''
There was a third group, however, which Tucci called ''the anxious ones'', that made up 40 per cent of the survey. ''These kids didn't have strong relationships and tended to engage the world much more through the media,'' Tucci explains. ''Because they didn't have great role models in their immediate environment, they tended to look for meaning in fame and celebrity. Celebrity tells them what is successful, what's in and what's out. It's nice and clear for them. And this is understandable: if you are worried about who you are and where you fit in, then celebrity offers a very clear template.''
But what if we are asking the wrong question? ''The question 'what do you want to be when you grow up' is outmoded,'' says Professor Johanna Wyn, the director of the Youth Research Centre at the Melbourne Graduate School of Education. ''Nowadays everyone has to reinvent themselves and being one thing is irrelevant.''
Professor Wyn, who as a child dreamed of being a postie (''because they got to ride their bike all day''), believes that ''what do you want to be when you grow up?'' is a boomer question for a 2000s audience. ''Many kids don't have a clear idea what they want to be because people these days are going to be lots of things, and kids know that.''
Because occupations are increasingly fluid, kids look to define themselves by identity - by who they are, not what they do. ''Look at Facebook, blogging, it's all about ordinary people who put their lives out there in the electronic media and establish an identity. You aren't necessarily going to 'do' one thing, so it comes back to your identity rather than occupation. You become an identity, which for some people morphs neatly into celebrity - the idea of being famous for who you are, not what you do.''
Like Tucci, Professor Wyn sees children in unstable homes as being most susceptible to celebrity culture. ''They don't have lots of adults who they trust or whose life trajectories they want to learn from, and so their reading of the future is from TV, which is a constant for them.'' When one of her staff surveyed a 14-year-old Tasmanian girl about her future goals, the girl replied ''to be living in one of the apartments in the city''. Asked why, the girl said because she had ''seen them on TV''.
But is it a problem that some teenagers have unrealistic expectations? ''Yes,'' Professor Wyn says. ''It shows how patterns of disadvantage can be reinforced, because you can't get anywhere if you don't have realistic maps of how to go forward, as opposed to maps based on fantasy and reality TV.''
Even for Michael McCoy, celebrity had its downsides. Having travelled to Thailand after his gruelling national nightclub tour, the former Big Brother contestant found himself in a Ko Samui bar. "We walked in and I heard three big Aussie guys go, 'F---ing Big Brother dickheads!' I didn't think anything of it, but then I turned around and they king hit me, and then started smashing chairs over my head. It just turned into a huge bar brawl.''
This was not uncommon, apparently. ''Every guy who had been on the show got punched at one stage.''
But the benefits outweighed the negatives. ''I loved it,'' he says. ''It was a trip.''
Ben Archibald is the solicitor acting on behalf of Walter Marsh the person who allegedly murdered Sydney nurse, Michelle Beets.
**********
Article - 'I wanna be famous'
Re: Michael McCoy BB 2006
Source: smh
Children used to want to be doctors or lawyers when they grew up. Today they'll settle for being
Anyone who insists that fame ain't all it's cracked up to be needs to talk to Michael McCoy. As a contestant on the 2006 series of Big Brother, McCoy has thoroughly enjoyed - correction: ''absolutely freakin' loved'' - his 15 minutes of fame, of which he is, by his own admission, down to the last 30 seconds.
''It's been totally insane,'' McCoy says. ''Everything was free - sex, drugs, alcohol. I have never drunk so much in my life. The day I came out from the Big Brother house, I went to a nightclub and was chased out by 30 women.''
After the series finished, McCoy and his fellow housemates were paid by Harry M. Miller to tour Australia visiting nightclubs. ''We got paid between $1250 and $4000 to show up to a club, drink as much as we could and autograph women's breasts. I went from being a 26-year-old single guy who would go out at night and maybe come home with one girl's number to going out and having girls line up for my autograph.''
As they waited, the girls would write their phone numbers on a beer coaster, which they then gave to McCoy. ''But there were so many numbers on so many coasters that I had to get my PR chaperone to take photos of the girls holding up their coaster, so I knew who was who.''
The attention became addictive. ''We started thinking, shit, when is this all going to end? When are we going to be forgotten?''
Pretty quickly, as it happens. McCoy is now back to his old anonymous self, and is happily studying law at the University of NSW. But his brush with celebrity goes a long way to explaining the seismic shift in children's aspirations over the past generation.
''Once upon a time if you asked kids what they wanted to be, they invariably said doctors or lawyers,'' a child psychologist, Dr Michael Carr-Gregg, says. "These days what you hear is 'famous'. 'I want to be famous'. Over the past generation we have bred a celebrity-obsessed culture, which I don't think is a good thing.''
Carr-Gregg cites a Pew Research Centre poll from the US in 2007, in which 81 per cent of the 18- to 25-year-olds surveyed said getting rich was their generation's most important or second-most-important life goal; 51 per cent said the same about being famous. ''Now I suspect that those numbers would have reversed: 51 per cent would want to be rich and 81 per cent would want to be famous.''
A similar study in Britain last year found that the top three career aspirations for five to 11-year-olds were sports star, pop star and actor, compared with teacher, banker and doctor 25 years ago.
In Australia, it's not much better. ''I see a lot of girls who just want to be Miley Cyrus or Paris Hilton,'' a Sydney child psychologist, Kimberley O'Brien, says. "Some of them even mention [animated character] Gwen 10. I mean, they are even into cartoon famous people.''
On one level at least, this lust for fame - what Lord Byron called the ''thirst of youth'' - makes perfect sense. If, as Michael McCoy discovered, fame means free beer and plenty of sex, then who would say no? But today's 24/7 celebrity culture is more complex than that, a volatile blend of saturation media and ancient instinct. In his 2007 book Fame Junkies, the author Jake Halpern talks about how even Stone Age hunters are thought to have competed for celebrity-like status. Halpern discusses the Hazda, a small, isolated tribe in present-day Tanzania, the exploits of whose top hunters are zealously tracked by the group's younger boys. Hazda hunters generally pass up chances to bag smaller prey, waiting instead for bigger animals - giraffes, buffaloes, zebras - the killing of which not only ensures more meat but also generates ''great stories and tremendous buzz''.
In the digital age, you don't have to kill a giraffe to generate a buzz; just tell a good lie, like Clare ''Chk-Chk Boom'' Werbeloff, a 19-year-old PR worker whose ''eyewitness account'' of a shooting in Kings Cross made her an internet sensation last year. Her story about what happened between ''the fat wog'' and ''the skinny wog'' would have gone nowhere, of course, had it not been for television and the internet, two omnipresent media which have, like megaphones in a madhouse, allowed anybody to tell any story to anyone they want.
''That exposure amounts to cachet,'' Carr-Gregg says. ''And what you see is that kids go psychologically where the respect is. Kids perceive that fame not only gives you lots of nice things but also gives you respect, just as, say, being a doctor or lawyer did in our day.''
Reality TV has exacerbated this, ''because it showed that ordinary people could become famous. You didn't have to study for, say, seven years to become a doctor. You didn't have to work hard or have any particular talent.''
Of course, not all children are the same. Joe Tucci is the chief executive of the Australian Childhood Foundation, a charity based in Melbourne. As part of his work, Tucci oversees the State of Childhood Survey, which periodically canvases 500 children aged between seven and 12. ''The last one we did, in 2007, showed there were three clear groups,'' he says. ''At one end of the spectrum was the confident group, which made up 52 per cent of the kids. These kids had solid relationships, and they had more of a clear picture of who they wanted to be. At the other end was the disconnected group, which made up 8 per cent. These kids were deeply pessimistic and insular. They didn't have any sense of what they wanted to be. Often they genuinely believed the world would be over by the time they were old anyway.''
There was a third group, however, which Tucci called ''the anxious ones'', that made up 40 per cent of the survey. ''These kids didn't have strong relationships and tended to engage the world much more through the media,'' Tucci explains. ''Because they didn't have great role models in their immediate environment, they tended to look for meaning in fame and celebrity. Celebrity tells them what is successful, what's in and what's out. It's nice and clear for them. And this is understandable: if you are worried about who you are and where you fit in, then celebrity offers a very clear template.''
But what if we are asking the wrong question? ''The question 'what do you want to be when you grow up' is outmoded,'' says Professor Johanna Wyn, the director of the Youth Research Centre at the Melbourne Graduate School of Education. ''Nowadays everyone has to reinvent themselves and being one thing is irrelevant.''
Professor Wyn, who as a child dreamed of being a postie (''because they got to ride their bike all day''), believes that ''what do you want to be when you grow up?'' is a boomer question for a 2000s audience. ''Many kids don't have a clear idea what they want to be because people these days are going to be lots of things, and kids know that.''
Because occupations are increasingly fluid, kids look to define themselves by identity - by who they are, not what they do. ''Look at Facebook, blogging, it's all about ordinary people who put their lives out there in the electronic media and establish an identity. You aren't necessarily going to 'do' one thing, so it comes back to your identity rather than occupation. You become an identity, which for some people morphs neatly into celebrity - the idea of being famous for who you are, not what you do.''
Like Tucci, Professor Wyn sees children in unstable homes as being most susceptible to celebrity culture. ''They don't have lots of adults who they trust or whose life trajectories they want to learn from, and so their reading of the future is from TV, which is a constant for them.'' When one of her staff surveyed a 14-year-old Tasmanian girl about her future goals, the girl replied ''to be living in one of the apartments in the city''. Asked why, the girl said because she had ''seen them on TV''.
But is it a problem that some teenagers have unrealistic expectations? ''Yes,'' Professor Wyn says. ''It shows how patterns of disadvantage can be reinforced, because you can't get anywhere if you don't have realistic maps of how to go forward, as opposed to maps based on fantasy and reality TV.''
Even for Michael McCoy, celebrity had its downsides. Having travelled to Thailand after his gruelling national nightclub tour, the former Big Brother contestant found himself in a Ko Samui bar. "We walked in and I heard three big Aussie guys go, 'F---ing Big Brother dickheads!' I didn't think anything of it, but then I turned around and they king hit me, and then started smashing chairs over my head. It just turned into a huge bar brawl.''
This was not uncommon, apparently. ''Every guy who had been on the show got punched at one stage.''
But the benefits outweighed the negatives. ''I loved it,'' he says. ''It was a trip.''
M
Miajahar
Guest
mikidiki
Well-Known Member
Yes, he is.
Think they are *both* ^^ members here too.
Was he the Asian one that caused all those problems during that season? If that's him, boy I couldn't STAND him!
K
king01
Guest
Think your right... He was also "the insider" and his eviction interview was pretty heated between him and Gretel...
http://www.theage.com.au/news/tv--radio/bbs-michael-in-a-punchup/2006/06/16/1149964711372.html
K
king01
Guest
While I didn't much of that season I did see the interview and I thought it was Gretel that was acting like a bitch...
It was edited and played out like they kissed when they clearly didn't... He was right to say what he said but she kept shutting him down... I think he handled the situation very well...
Though I did think he was a douche for the most part... I watched the feeds the first night and his talking to "Big Brother" (aka himself) was pissing me the **** off...
[ame]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H11qJhfPU1Q[/ame]
Last edited by a moderator:
mikidiki
Well-Known Member
Yes, it was his attitude, he went in there to purposely cause problems and he was an attention seeker. He would have to be my least fav contestant of all time on the now defunct BB! p.s - Gretel doesn't look very well in that clip, she must have had crap night the night before.
Hmmm, this can't help but make me think of homophobia. Not that Michael's gay, but the violent reaction to someone being gay is echoed in this reaction... obviously the guys must recognise him from Big Brother, but wouldn't admit they had watched the show... so they beat him up to prove how anti-BB (and in a way, how masculine) they are.
Chrissie Swan
Chrissie Swan can't wait for another baby
Holly Ife From: Herald Sun June 05, 2010
FOR Chrissie Swan, motherhood compounded her weight problem - and gave her the motivation to tackle it.
The popular member of Channel 10's The Circle, who has always been comfortable with her fuller figure, gained 55kg during her pregnancy with now 18-month-old Leo, ballooning to a size 26.
Now she wants another baby but is worried her weight will prevent her from adding to her family.
"It doesn't matter how comfortable I am, I weigh too much to start getting pregnant at this weight. It's too dangerous," Swan said.
Earlier this week, Swan was announced as Jenny Craig's latest celebrity ambassador, committing to losing 40kg by the middle of next year.
She says she wants to be a good mother to her children.
"I have just had full blood tests and I am completely healthy, but I do think there is a time limit to carrying around this much weight, and I think in 10 years it would be a different case."
But Swan, whose humour and warmth have added to The Circle's success, refuses to comply with the stereotype of an overweight woman consumed by self-loathing.
"I think a lot of the time people over-dramatise the way big people must be feeling. I don't hate myself or any of that.
"This is not about, 'if I lose weight, I'll be happy; if I lose weight, I'll get a better job; if I lose weight, I'll get a boyfriend' - all those things are absolute bulls---, because I've done all of them at this weight."
Swan is blissfully happy with her partner of three years, Chris Saville, and their son Leo, and is focusing on being healthy each day rather than losing weight.
She's also enjoying her new role at Channel 10, which came about after her contract with radio station Vega FM (now Classic Rock) was not renewed last year.
http://www.heraldsun.com.au/enterta...for-another-baby/story-e6frf96x-1225875686658
Chrissie Swan can't wait for another baby
Holly Ife From: Herald Sun June 05, 2010
FOR Chrissie Swan, motherhood compounded her weight problem - and gave her the motivation to tackle it.
The popular member of Channel 10's The Circle, who has always been comfortable with her fuller figure, gained 55kg during her pregnancy with now 18-month-old Leo, ballooning to a size 26.
Now she wants another baby but is worried her weight will prevent her from adding to her family.
"It doesn't matter how comfortable I am, I weigh too much to start getting pregnant at this weight. It's too dangerous," Swan said.
Earlier this week, Swan was announced as Jenny Craig's latest celebrity ambassador, committing to losing 40kg by the middle of next year.
She says she wants to be a good mother to her children.
"I have just had full blood tests and I am completely healthy, but I do think there is a time limit to carrying around this much weight, and I think in 10 years it would be a different case."
But Swan, whose humour and warmth have added to The Circle's success, refuses to comply with the stereotype of an overweight woman consumed by self-loathing.
"I think a lot of the time people over-dramatise the way big people must be feeling. I don't hate myself or any of that.
"This is not about, 'if I lose weight, I'll be happy; if I lose weight, I'll get a better job; if I lose weight, I'll get a boyfriend' - all those things are absolute bulls---, because I've done all of them at this weight."
Swan is blissfully happy with her partner of three years, Chris Saville, and their son Leo, and is focusing on being healthy each day rather than losing weight.
She's also enjoying her new role at Channel 10, which came about after her contract with radio station Vega FM (now Classic Rock) was not renewed last year.
http://www.heraldsun.com.au/enterta...for-another-baby/story-e6frf96x-1225875686658
Weighty issue turns into a plus
Luke Dennehy
From: Sunday Herald Sun June 06, 2010
Former Big Brother Television series contestant Sara-Marie Fedelle is now a plus size model. Source: The Daily Telegraph
ALMOST 10 years on from her starring role on
Big Brother, Sara-Marie Fedele is making a comeback.
Fedele, 31, has signed to be a plus-size model at Sydney agency BGM Models.
The woman famous for wearing bunny ears (above) and making the bum dance a national pastime in 2001 said she wanted to use her body in a positive way.
"When I came out of Big Brother everybody focused on my weight and body issues," she said.
"I never knew I was big until someone asked me what it is like to be fat and happy when I came off the show.
"After Big Brother I put on more weight because people thought I was fat, so I kept eating."
Fedele said she was proud of her size 12 figure and would not change anything.
After Big Brother, Fedele had a brief career in the spotlight, appearing on Dancing with the Stars and as a presenter on Totally Wild.
But she soon retreated from the spotlight, working in childcare and retail.
http://www.heraldsun.com.au/news/su...urns-into-a-plus/story-e6frf92x-1225875945419
Luke Dennehy
From: Sunday Herald Sun June 06, 2010
Former Big Brother Television series contestant Sara-Marie Fedelle is now a plus size model. Source: The Daily Telegraph
ALMOST 10 years on from her starring role on
Big Brother, Sara-Marie Fedele is making a comeback.
Fedele, 31, has signed to be a plus-size model at Sydney agency BGM Models.
The woman famous for wearing bunny ears (above) and making the bum dance a national pastime in 2001 said she wanted to use her body in a positive way.
"When I came out of Big Brother everybody focused on my weight and body issues," she said.
"I never knew I was big until someone asked me what it is like to be fat and happy when I came off the show.
"After Big Brother I put on more weight because people thought I was fat, so I kept eating."
Fedele said she was proud of her size 12 figure and would not change anything.
After Big Brother, Fedele had a brief career in the spotlight, appearing on Dancing with the Stars and as a presenter on Totally Wild.
But she soon retreated from the spotlight, working in childcare and retail.
http://www.heraldsun.com.au/news/su...urns-into-a-plus/story-e6frf92x-1225875945419