Last week, two esteemed lists hit the Oxford scene. Since the publication of The OxStu and Cherwell’s BNOC lists, there has been an overwhelming uproar. The OxStu’s list (famed for the plethora of poor spelling, grammar, and an inherent inability to use Photoshop) and Cherwell’s (accurate and excellently presented) list have induced mass bitterness and smugness. But as the Bard once said, what is past is prologue. And no one ever reads the prologue. To appease, I have collected together some advice, so that by this time next year you will be able to revel in the luxurious ease of being a BNOC.
Firstly, in order to become a BNOC, you’re going to need to understand the term. BNOC stands for ‘Big Name On Campus’. This seems simple, but The OxStu seemed to have misunderstood it, literally lengthening Annie Teriba’s name by an extra letter. This is not what it means. You are a big name, because people know of you. Students have stalked you on Facebook. They’ve seen your trout pout from 2010. They know which club nights you go to. It is not creepy in any way whatsoever. BNOCs are like accessible celebrities. The celebrity is taken off its ledge, and placed in the same reality as you. You have mutual friends with them. You walk past them on Cornmarket. “What, then, is the difference between me and them?” I hear you mutter under your breath. Stop muttering. The difference: they’re at least pretending to do something with their life.
Whether on stage, dwelling in the murky realms of the Union, picking L-G-B-Q-T out of their alphabet spaghetti, holding a placard, burning a boat, or wearing an OUSU polo shirt. They’re doing something. But the thing is, what they do remains irrelevant. All that remains imprinted in people’s brains are their faces and names. Which thankfully makes everything far more simple. All you need to do is implant. Your name and face need to be familiar. Write your name in library books. Try “I
Get a friend to stand in the middle of Cornmarket. It’s best to try and execute this exercise on a Saturday, when Cornmarket is most strongly representative of a locust infestation. Walk down from one end. Instruct your friend so that as soon as you are in view they shout, “OH MY GOD IT’S [insert your name]”. They should then run over and ask to take a selfie with you, which you kindly accept, before continuing to very slowly amble on. Your friend should then hyperventilate and walk from circle to circle of people, pointing at you and exclaiming how cool you are. With this basis, you now only need to maintain your resting bitch face for the next year, and make sure to join Cuntry Living. In a year’s time you will be wearing a shiny gilded badge of glory.
But a warning: as I have broached before, Oxford is not actually real. Your BNOC badge will expire as soon as you graduate. Hard luck.
