Monday, April 28, 2025
Blog Page 1028

"I’m as fucked off as you are"

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“Don’t get any big ideas / They’re not gonna happen.”

It was always going to end in tears. Under 10,000 tickets in total released for Radiohead’s three London shows. An internet scrum of gargantuan proportions. Touted tickets selling for £1,000 online twenty minutes after sales began at 9am, and thousands of fans staring at a queue, waiting for tickets which were no-longer available. Radiohead’s Thom Yorke put it best on Twitter hours later: “I’m as fucked off as you are. And am only human”.

If the latter sentence was a cheeky jibe at the Ticketmaster security system which repeatedly worked hard to ensure that ticket buyers were not robots and were, in fact, just slightly bleary eyed, pissed off music fans, the former was certainly directed at the vitriolic tirade of abuse received in the wake of the ticketing disaster, and at the hefty £65 price tag.

Regardless of whether one was able to get into the position to pay it or not, that price is a massive issue. It goes without saying that music, increasingly an art-less industry, is now so financially unviable that it is only through extortionate live fees that artists that make profit from their musical endeavours. Indeed, Adele tickets can escalate to £100 – Radiohead, as an independent band, are increasingly reliant on such incomes to fund their albums and tours. This pricing strategy may be cynical, but at least it is understandable.

Less forgivable are the technological glitches which hampered both the Ticketmaster and Roundhouse sites. Like many, this writer attempted to buy tickets, only to face a Ticketmaster site which, at 9am on the dot, failed to recognise the tickets’ existence, while the Roundhouse site’s queue position would jump from the low hundreds to the high thousands without cause. Meanwhile, the venue’s own phone lines were down. To remedy this, there is always the possibility to go all-physical once more: to sell directly from the venue, thus crushing ticket-buying bots and ensuring that queues actually work fairly, free from glitches. However, this would be punitive for those who live far away from the venues – the interest in Radiohead’s Roundhouse shows were, and remain, worldwide. Thus to punish non-local fans would be heinous, and is clearly not the solution.

What then? Buying directly from the venue website doesn’t work, as most simply aren’t robust enough to handle the huge internet traffic which some bands generate. Perhaps a better solution would be to stagger sales – to make sure that batches are released incrementally, allowing people multiple chances. Moreover, maybe there should be a lottery system, allowing tickets to be parcelled out fairly among number holders.

However, whatever the solution, Radiohead, no matter how “fucked off” they might be, only have themselves to blame: when one of the biggest bands in the world decides to be obtuse and play for only a handful of fans, it will never end well. As it turns out, trying the best you can, as Radiohead recommend in ‘Optimistic’, is not, actually, good enough.

Oxford fourth for student experience

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The University of Oxford has risen to fourth of 117 universities in the newly released rankings of 2016 Times Higher Education Student Experience Survey, up one place from fifth last year.

Loughborough University tops this year’s survey, rising from second last year. New entrant Harper Adams University and the University of Sheffield take second and third places, respectively, with Sheffield retaining the same position as last yearLast year’s table topper University of Bath has dropped to fifth, while Cambridge has dropped five places to ninth.

The survey is entirely student-based. Over 15,000 undergraduates at 117 institutions took the survey, ranking their universities in 21 student-suggested attributes. These attributes range from quality of tuition and course structure to social experience, communal atmosphere and quality of facilities. 

Oxford has come first, or joint first, in several individual measures, namely “High quality staff/lectures”, “Helpful/interested staff”, “Good community atmosphere” and “Personal requirements catered for”. 

Some students believe that Oxford’s performance in the survey does it justice. A second-year Oriel undergraduate remarked that “there is something for everyone” in Oxford and that Oxford has “a good community atmosphere” and “amazing” tutors. 

Some others, however, think otherwise and feel that Oxford’s rather high ranking is not reflective of their experiences at Oxford. 

“Half of my tutors do not prepare for our tutorial[s] at all. Work is not marked and [those tutors] are clearly not familiar with the problem sheets [they give us]”, complained a second-year Christ Church Mathematics undergraduate. He also notably singled out the Iffley Sports Complex as being a “disappointing” facility with “poor ventilation and crowdedness”

“I’ve found Oxford to be extremely satisfying in terms of intellectual growth, but not as satisfying in terms of feeling as a part of the university”, said a Wycliffe Hall postgraduate. He attributed the lack of a sense of community to the “decentralized system of having separate colleges with their respective traditions”

A Magdalen postgraduate told Cherwell that while it is good to see that Oxford is perceived in the survey as having provided “a rich and nourishing student experience”, issues that cause some students to have “largely negative and even painful experiences of their times here” should not be overlooked.

The Media and Information Office of Oxford has declined to comment on Oxford’s performancewith its spokesperson telling Cherwell that the Office is “not in the habit of commenting on league tables, mainly because there are just so many of them.”

OUSU President Becky Howe and the Oxford branch of Student Minds, a prominent student mental health charity, were also unavailable for comment.

Vincent’s Club ends gender exclusivity

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Vincent’s Club (or “Vinnie’s”) voted last Wednesday to finally allow admission of female members of the Oxford Blues sporting community as full members.

Previously, non-members had to be invited to use the clubhouse, though members of Atalanta’s Club – an equivalent society to Vincent’s for female Blues – nonetheless had access to the club’s facilities.

Ayowande McCunn, Vincent’s president, said, “On 9 March 2016 the resident members of Vincent’s Club completed a vote that removed the word ‘male’ from the Constitution of the Club. The effect of the change in the rules is that women are now eligible to be elected to membership of Vincent’s Club. A 2/3 majority was required for the resolution to pass and 85 per cent of resident members voted in favour of the change.

“The process leading to the change began in Michaelmas Term 2015 and involved a consultation of members during Hilary Term.”

The decision to allow for female membership comes only a year after the club rejected the same change. Though a majority at the time wished to strike the word “male” from the constitution, they did not constitute the two-thirds majority required for a constitutional change.

The new vote has proven more popular than last year’s, although some think it still comes too late.

Juliet Flamank, a first year athlete at Balliol, told Cherwell, “I think that it’s sadly too common that clubs such as these started off a male only clubs. Although it’s great for future generations that women are now allowed to be members, it’s a shame and rather ridiculous that its taken it this long.

“As a woman in sport I feel that my sporting achievements should be equally celebrated and I should have the ability to participate in all the ways that men in sport do. Vinnie’s says it stands for sporting excellence – well for a club more than 150 years old, I can’t believe that only now have they realised that women’s sporting excellence is also recognisable. It’s great this change has finally happened and I hope it encourages others like it.

“It’s just very late to the game.”

Eden Bailey, OUSU’s VP for Access and Academic Affairs-elect, expressed the same sentiment more succinctly.

“It is 2016,” she said.

Grumbling gets access nowhere

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The fact that state school students form the majority of Oxford’s undergraduate population often requires re-assertion. It can seem otherwise on two accounts. Firstly, there is a small but conspicuous web of people who know people who know people. For the former pupils of certain independent schools in the South East now at Oxford, it is indeed a small world. Secondly, there can be a tendency among former state school pupils to engage in competitive exaggeration about their school background. If you were one of the first or the very first in your situation to go to Oxford, the contrast between home and university will naturally be greater. Thus it can be tempting to see oneself as a lone warrior held up by one’s own bootstraps above a port-drenched tide of old boys. Tempting but false. During my first few weeks in Oxford, I was struck by how little people brought up their home backgrounds – except, perhaps, to boast of how humble they were. Even those who could be said to have been “born into” it were just as taken aback by this University as those who had come up against all expectations. Two and a half years on, I know many people well without knowing what their schools were like.

That network of ex-public school boys is still there, however. It exists as those blitzed but benign groups sloshing around outside the King’s Arms at one in the morning just as it exists as those who have a little more ease than most at finding an internship. We may all be on the same ship, but the ease with which we embarked is often reflected in our destination and, to an extent, with whom we played shuffleboard during the voyage. Problematic as this may be and symptomatic of how far we in Britain and at Oxford have yet to travel towards true social mobility, I have never felt systematically edged out by this network because I did not attend it members’ schools or know their friends. Oxford’s supposedly predominant cabal of mythical Montys sneering at the common folk over champagne flutes is as fictional as Sam Claflin’s prole-bludgeoning psychopath in The Riot Club.

Contrast this with the press’ depiction of Oxford. In the pages of (let’s name names) The Guardian Oxford is barely recognisable. Going by the articles in their website’s Oxbridge and Elitism section, the layman would be forgiven for thinking Oxford is a university where ninety per cent of the students went to public schools and the less well off are alienated, where white tie-clad future ministers engage publicly and prominently in Heliogabalus-like debauchery. In the eyes of more right wing media, Oxford writhes under the thumb of a privileged loony left junta and its thought police. Neither picture flatters us, neither is true. Moves to address problems of inclusivity within Oxford are often summarily repurposed by the media as fuel for these nefarious fires.

Oxford is still ailed by an unrepresentatively low number of students from state school, BME, and working to lower-middle class backgrounds and by the resultant issues of inclusivity. These problems are rooted in larger failings of British society of which Oxford is both a microcosm and a perpetuator. While there is no panacea, there are many worthwhile efforts. Full time University and college staff as well as hundreds of student volunteers are engaged in widening access by visiting schools, showing groups around Oxford, and helping Oxbridge applicants at their old schools. It is a Herculean labour; but for all those inspired to try for Oxford because of a school talk, a visit, or the UNIQ Summer School, that work is worthwhile. But that task is in no way helped by the media portrayal of Oxford: that is a greater problem for state school pupils than the mythical Montys themselves. The perpetuation of such ideas only serves to make many potential Oxford students believe that this University is “not for them” and thus to undermine that access work. Oxford has a problem with access and inclusivity. It cannot be cured by tutting at it and complaining about it; it can be cured by constructive efforts to challenge these falsehoods and show people who would otherwise be reluctant to apply that Oxford is indeed for them.

This article was written in response to Jack Morrison’s “Is Oxford still a posh boys’ club?” (March 10th 2016)

Saïd blacklisted by Barclays bank

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The Saïd Foundation, the charity which has supported the Saïd Business School, has been blacklisted by Barclays Bank and has been barred from becoming a future client, along with its founding benefactor Wafic Saïd.

The Business School’s website explains that “Mr Saïd, through the Saïd Business School Foundation, remains a generous supporter of the School, having donated £70 million to date.”

According to an article in The Times, the Saïd Foundation have been using Barclays for over 20 years, and were told in December about the bank’s decision to blacklist the charity, with no possibility of an appeal.

The same ultimatum was passed on to Mr. Saïd and his family. William Heard, a spokesman for the businessman stated that “Mr Saïd was not being singled out but was part of ‘a wholesale cull’ of Barclays clients born in countries the bank now regards as high-risk.”

He added, “Mr Saïd was extremely disappointed that … he is being treated in this irrational and irresponsible manner.”

Oxford University and the Business School have been quick to allay fears regarding the School’s financial security following the blacklisting of the Saïd Foundation.

In an email sent to Oxford University’s Economics & Management students today a spokeswoman for the Saïd Business School stated, “There are no implications for the running of the school,” adding that “much of the article [published in The Times today] is speculative.” The Saïd Business School reinforced their ties with the Saïd Foundation, writing “we look forward to continuing our relationship.”

A spokesman for the University told Cherwell, “The operation of the Saïd Business School is entirely secure. The School is an academic department of the University of Oxford and its funding is derived from numerous sources which include research funding and student fees.

“The Saïd Foundation now provides charitable grants to support a range of initiatives to advance the School’s strategic objectives, including scholarships for students, awards for innovation in teaching, key School events and new approaches to career support for students. We are grateful to the Foundation for its support and we look forward to this continuing.”

The Saïd Foundation have been contacted for comment.

A troubling relationship: the UK and Saudi Arabia

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Over the last year strong claims have repeatedly been made that Saudi Arabia, the UK’s longstanding friend and ally, are guilty of committing war crimes in Yemen. This represents only one of the most recent manifestations of human rights abuses committed by the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, which are as ongoing as the UK’s continued friendship.

Since 2015 the Saudi Arabians have been leading a coalition of forces in Yemen aimed at defeating Houthis rebels, who it claims are being supported by neighbouring Iran. There have been approximately 6,000 deaths since the conflict began, and little recent territorial progress. This aside, it appears that the Saudi-led coalition has been paying scant attention to international human rights laws. A leaked UN report recently revealed that 2,682 civilians have been killed in air strikes, and that banned cluster munitions have been used by the coalition. According to the report there have been 119 strikes that have breached international law directly, with attacks being carried out on health facilities, schools, refugee camps, and most recently, a wedding party.

Given this, it may seem ludicrous to suggest that a large portion of the weapons used to perpetrate these crimes have been bought from the UK. However, since David Cameron took office in 2010 the government has licensed the sale of 6.7 billion pounds worth of arms, 2.8 billion pounds worth of which were sold since the conflict in Yemen began. Various organisations are beginning to question how and why the government has made itself complicit in Saudi Arabian crimes: a cross party commission has been set up to look into potential breaches of conduct, but the government also faces several internal investigations and a high court case. One such investigation comes from its own Department of International Development (DFID) who run an aid programme in Yemen, an area ironically now under attack from a military using UK weaponry.

The Chairman of the cross party commission looking into the issue said of the pending investigation, “The defence and security industry is one of the UK’s most important exporters. However, it is vital that its financial success does not come at the cost to the nation’s strategic interests.” This polished line reveals the selfish concerns the government are trying to balance, between financial reward and reputation. Trade with Saudi Arabia brings in money, but trade with them also looks embarrassing because of their status as an autocratic dictatorship ruling over a society built on oppression, inequality and one of the most barbaric penal systems in the world.

In a recent parliamentary debate on UK Saudi Arabian relations Conservative MP Tobias Ellwood began his speech with a lengthy articulation of the benefits to the UK the relationship brought, followed by an elucidation of the “deep, longstanding history of friendship and co-operation” between the two nations. According to Ellwood, it would appear that the lengthy amount of time Britain has been friends with a nation in which people are beheaded and crucified, helps explain and excuse this relationship, rather than making it all the more questionable. He goes on to say that “some 25,000 Britons are proud to call the kingdom their home”. If this is true, it’s a sad indictment of these individuals that they are proud of a country which deprives its female population of even the right to drive and systematically discriminates against its Shi’a minority.

Available on the UK government website is a document entitled: ‘Doing Business in Saudi Arabia: Saudi Arabia Trade and Export guide’. In it the country’s large economy and vast oil reserves are eulogised before it is proudly proclaimed that the UK managed to export 7 billion pounds worth of goods there in 2014 alone. It is only upon reaching Section 9: ‘Business behaviour’ that some of the less savoury features of Saudi Arabian society are mentioned, including the fact that ‘homosexual behaviour and adultery are illegal and carry the death penalty.’ It doesn’t, however, mention the 370,000 foreign migrants deported in the last five months of 2015, or the 18,000 placed in detention in order to free up jobs for Saudi nationals, and maybe help create the business openings they so enthusiastically recommend. In fact, revelations by Wikileaks indicate that it was the UK that assisted Saudi Arabia’s successful candidacy for the UN human rights council in 2013, making a mockery of the government’s list of countries of considerable human rights concern, in which Saudi Arabia places highly.

It may seem that the last thing a country which fundamentally opposes the death penalty would want to do is make a judicial deal with a nation that put to death 158 people in 2015, and that executed 47 individuals on a single day at the start of January 2016. Yet only last year plans were made for the British Ministry of Justice to provide 5.9 million pounds worth of prison services to Saudi Arabia. The Justice Secretary Michael Gove, who has in the past gone as far as to court with the idea of a return of capital punishment, ardently opposed the deal. However, Foreign Secretary Phillip Hammond apparently accused Gove of being naïve in his opposition, of not putting British interests first. The deal was eventually scrapped, apparently because the branch of the Ministry of Justice which provided some of the planned services no longer existed. No appeal was made to the mistake the government might have made in offering its services to the same prison system currently in the process of administering one thousand lashes to Raif Badawi, a liberal blogger who criticised the country’s clerics, fifty of which have already left him in bad health.  This deal was being negotiated in the knowledge that in 2012 the Saudi Arabian authorities had arrested three juveniles, Dawoud al-Marhoon, Ali al-Nimr and Abdullah al-Zaher, for taking part in pro-democracy protests. All now face a death sentence that has been upheld by both the appeals court and the Supreme Court. It is thought that al-Marhoon was arrested without a warrant and then tortured to produce the confession that was then used to convict him. Al-Nimr is facing crucifixion as punishment for his attendance.

These kinds of questionable associations do not wholly characterise the British government: this is the murkiest end of the foreign policy spectrum. But it is important to be aware of the extremes, to keep in mind the capability to overlook and ignore the value of human life in favour of protecting vested interests. These arms deals and potential prison contracts highlight a degree of national hypocrisy: on one level a supposed bastion of the protection of human rights, on another supplying the means through which those rights are violated abroad.

A Panoramic View of Morocco

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Few ethnomusicological studies are as broad in scope and bold in execution as this one. Conducted in 1959 by American expatriate novelist and composer Paul Bowles; the aim is no smaller than a cultural summation of the entire country of Morocco. Bowles noted shortly after decamping to the then colonial expat haven of Tangier (home to Bowles’ contemporary and friends, William Burroughs and Allen Ginsberg) that: ‘The most important single element in Morocco’s folk culture is its music. In a land where almost total illiteracy has been the rule, the production of written literature is practically negligible, but the Moroccans have a magnificent and highly evolved sense of rhythm which manifests itself in the twin arts of music and dance.’ Also increasingly aware that many of the distinct and separate cultures of Morocco were threatened in their untapped uniqueness by the technological advances of modernity; Bowles took it up on himself to preserve for posterity these cultures on a self-imposed mission with the backing of the American Library of Congress. When it came down to the question of what it was that ought to be preserved in order to protect the Arab, Berber, Jewish and Andalucian cultures that existed in the country; there was no doubt that it had to be music.

The logistics of Bowles’ trip were nightmarish – much of the country did not have electricity, requiring musicians to come to Bowles’ in some parts of the country, his wife was forced to remain in Tangier owing to her fragile health and the Moroccan government kept a perennially watchful eye on proceedings, mandating precisely what and where Bowles could record. One anecdote tells that Bowles found out from his wife; well into his recording forays from Tangier to other parts of the country; that he had in fact been sent a letter saying he was in fact not permitted to record, however as was his want, ‘Bowles reasoned that since he had not seen the letter himself, he could plead ignorance of this restriction, and so he decided to continue to record’. Using a borrowed Volkswagen Beetle, Bowles made 4 forays in total around the country, recording at an immensely prolific rate to create a ‘panoramic’ view of Moroccan culture and history.

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Morocco as a country served as an interesting snapshot – different regions of the country contained different intertwinings of societies and the differences and fusions of these societies were made manifest in the music. Thus, the Northern coastal regions of the country tended to, by and large, carry more of the placidity of the Arab influence which had arrived after the Arabic invasion of the region in the 16th century and as a result of its intrinsic Islamic religiosity had ‘the property of inducing a state of philosophical speculativeness’. In contrast, the more isolated, older Berber cultures of the south and the Atlas mountains maintained a more energetic, aggressive use of drums in the music. However, both styles are undoubtedly hypnotic; so much so that Bowles debated calling the first LP release of this music Trance Music. The melodic circularity of the music; the reliance on modes rather than chord progressions (as was first seen in Western music truly in Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue); disavows any notion of that ‘worst of all… a predictable end’ that Bowles so despised in Western music.

However, The Berber and Arab cultures have not historically enjoyed an entirely peaceful relationship. Though the Moroccan government has lately taken active measures to promote Berber culture and language, in the past they were a marginalized group of society consigned to economic insignificance, abuse and even a state of borderline persecution. To this day the topic of the Berber/Arab divide is so controversial that when a group of Moroccan Arabs came to my friends and I asking our opinion; we were told by our guide to stay silent. However, even though this divide is often recognized as the principal cultural schism of Morocco, there exists – or existed – yet more cultures within this incredibly historically rich country.

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Most notably, also contained within this collection are recordings of the old Moroccan Jewish music and of the Andalucian. Nowadays, one is more likely to be familiar with the Moroccan Jewish culture through either cuisine (such as shakshouka) or through the Moorish designs of many synagogues, most notably Park Avenue Synagogue, New York. However, until the 1950s and 1960s (when 200,000 of the 265,000 Jews of the country left, mostly for Israel), this subsection of the Moroccan culture was still highly visible and active. This Sephardic Jewish music was entirely vocal, as instruments were banned in the synagogue in which the two tracks were performed and recorded. Therefore each singer sung in a very different style as many aimed to mimic the instruments which were absent. In this reviewer’s opinion, these two recordings are amongst the most unique and objectively beautiful of the entire collection, the voices containing a clarity and a smoothness to the timbre lacked elsewhere, while the acoustics of the recording greatly facilitate the range of vocal styles used in it. These are tracks that linger in the memory because of their haunting beauty.

Elsewhere, Bowles himself registered his considerable surprise at being able to find the Andalucian music in the form that he found it, ‘The Andaluz repertory—a consciously preserved genre, the unvarying rules of its esthetic long since established—is the last living folk memory of the seven-century Moroccan occupation of Andalusia. It is extraordinary that medieval Iberian music, as it was heard and transformed by Arab musicians of the era, should have survived into the 20th century.’ The genre is intensely repetitive; using strictly circular rhythms and melodic lines. The recordings found here, however, were performed by the wealthy, aristocratic but crucially progressive Ouezzane family. This was a family wherein, much to Bowles’ conservative chagrin, many of them were aware of how to play Western solfeggietto. For Bowles, this represented much of what was going wrong with the advance of modernity, and provided an example of why he needed to act to preserve these musical forms as soon as possible – soon, he perceived, music such as the Andalucian Moroccan strain would become defunct at worst, or diluted at best, by Western (or yet more pernicious, in Bowles’ view, Egyptian) influences. This influence can be heard in the second of the two Andalucian tracks recorded by Bowles, where not only can the traditional instruments of the genre be heard, but also the piano and other Western instruments.

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This particular track represents to the modern listener a culture that was on the cusp of change. In 1959, Bowles was lucky enough to be there among a culturally rich expat elite in the colonial hub of Tangier, while also being able to record ancient forms of folk music which can be seen to define the history of Morocco before those forms became excessively corrupted by outside influence. Nowhere is this more obvious than in the contrast between the Zagora as seen, imagined and recorded in the ‘Third Sqel’ and the Zagora that can be seen today. This track offers musical backing to what essentially amounted to a choreographed swordfight. Indeed, one can even hear the clanging of the swords in the background and in the instrumental credits Bowles names ‘two swords’. Yet the modern Zagora reflects little of this ancient heritage. Going there now, one only sees the sights and sounds that, on some level, one would expect. It is as if the implicit expectation of tourism has forced the local culture into selling itself short, offering snake charmers and counterfeit saffron where they should offer the sqel and the brotherly, communal, touch-based dancing which would have gone on during track 4, ‘The Second Aqlal’. Maybe I was simply looking in the wrong places, and these kind of artifacts are not artifacts yet; still lingering behind some ornate dusty door. But somehow I feel that Bowles’ suspicions were correct – when you listen to this 4-disc collection, you are not just listening to music. You are listening to a set of cultures which have faded, from living memory, into recorded history.

Dust-to-Digital have just released this awe-inspiring project; included are four CDs in a silkscreened box with 120-page, foil-stamped, leatherette book, featuring extensive liner notes by Philip Schuyler; field notes by Paul Bowles; and an introduction by Sonic Youth’s Lee Ranaldo.

Corbyn coming to Oxford

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The Wesley Memorial church hall on New Inn Hall street is set to host a rally organised by Oxford Labour in the evening of 31 March. Labour MPs Jeremy Corbyn and Tom Watson will attend, though no details have yet been provided as to the issues addressed within their speeches.

Approximately 230 people have already signed up to join the rally taking place in exactly two weeks. This number is expected to increase rapidly to meet the full capacity of the church. For this reason, event registration is open only to members and registered or affiliated supporters of Labour, each of whom may bring a “Labour-supporting +1″ to the rally.

The current chairs of OULC, David Parton and Eleanor Ormsby, told Cherwell, “we are very excited to see Labour Leader Jeremy Corbyn MP and Deputy Leader Tom Watson MP in our fine city, and many of our members will be packing out the event to welcome them.

“We are very grateful to Oxford Labour for organising such an event at the Wesley Memorial Church Hall on March 31st, at 6:30pm, and have no doubt it will be a successful rally, with important and pressing social and economic issues, likely to be raised.”

Daniel Iley-Williamson, Labour city council candidate for Holywell Ward, recalled how “last summer there was an inspiring group of people who tirelessly campaigned to help get Jeremy Corbyn elected as Labour leader, and it’ll be very satisfying to see him here as leader.

Other Labour supporters among Oxford students have also expressed their enthusiasm regarding the rally.

William Nuttal perceives the event as a chance for Labour and Jeremy Corbyn to show that the public’s expectations are not unfounded. He told Cherwell, “Since Corbyn’s victory in the leadership election I have watched him be mocked and ridiculed, and yet still retain the support of his hardcore supporters. 

“I am going to this event to see the ‘man behind the myth’ speak for himself, and to help form my own opinion of his politics rather than one spoon fed to me by the mainstream media, or the vocal left who forever have a presence online.

“Hopefully it will reinvigorate me to action in the political sphere, or it may prove to me that my friends who frequent OUCA are right. I am going as a learning experience, and I expect it to be just that. Either it will restore my previous socialist beliefs, which after months of mockery from other students here have taken a beating, or it will firmly bury them forever.”

Distancing yourself from reality

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It’s a Saturday morning and you’re sitting at breakfast, surrounded by your friends, performing the typical forensic post-mortem of the night before. Many of the guys are proudly boasting about the girl they met, telling stories of how smooth they were, painting themselves as regular Don Juans. Opposite you, that newly-formed couple from the next staircase over are adorably yet sickeningly feeding each other breakfast and giggling incessantly, lost in their own little world of romance and happiness. Sheer bliss. As for you, you’re on your phone, anxiously waiting for a reply from the one you left at home, or who is studying at another university. Each week you tell each other stories about your individual nights out, filling your significant other in on yet another night that didn’t involve them. Being in a long distance relationship at university isn’t always as satisfying as one would hope.

When you find yourself, however unwillingly, in a long distance relationship, scenes like this are typical and perhaps that explains why so many people are so vehemently against them. Before I left for uni, and certainly during freshers’ week, as I informed everyone of my situation I was met with a mixture of pity, amazement and sheer bafflement. No one actually seems to believe it’s possible and I can’t count the number of times I heard variations on the phrase, “It’s never going to work. Don’t put yourself through that.” Sometimes these warnings were easy to disregard, as they came from people with little or no experience of dating someone several hours away, but when someone with bad experiences warns you, it gets harder and harder to ignore.

As I started out on this long distance thing I was terri ed, but my experience has been nowhere near as dire as I originally thought it would be. Okay, at times it can be lonely and frustrating, especially when the one person you need to to talk to just isn’t there. It can lead to absurd arguments and over-thinking, where you read a text saying, “Have a good morning” and scream, “What did you mean by that?” It can make the weeks drag on like no one’s business and it fills you with an uncontrollable bitterness, the kind of bitterness that makes you want to throw your cereal into the face of the new-found couple sitting opposite you at breakfast. This isn’t all they are, though. Let’s not forget that long-distance relationships open you up to experiences you never get when your girlfriend lives just down the road.

First of all, there’s the Skyping. Although Skype dates are not a touch on the real thing, it’s the closest you can get and allows you to be creative. So what if you can’t go out to dinner, the surreal experience of sitting down to a shared meal with your computer screen can sometimes be more fun than the awkward standoff as you try to decide on a place to eat. Now suddenly you can gorge yourself on a McDonald’s whilst your health-conscious girlfriend makes do with her three-leaf salad free from any conflicts of interest. More than this, conversations begin to sparkle. Naturally, the wealth of new opportunities university gives you affords you a plethora of things to talk about. You swap your stories, share your memories and compare your different experiences. As your dates generally tend to be you both sitting in a room focusing simply on each other, your attention rests more on the conversation and they do seem to improve.

Then, when you actually see each other, it’s always an event. Instead of growing complacent, used to the sight of someone you see nearly every day, you’re always inordinately excited. Standing at the train station and seeing that person stepping onto the platform, it’s like seeing them for the first time all over again. You find yourself filled with a hedonistic joie de vivre, so happy to be together that it becomes almost like a holiday. You eat out more, go to more places, do more in order to fully maximise your time together. Okay, they’re not perfect. Certainly they don’t come close to a conventional relationship but, should you find yourself in a situation where there’s no other option, try not to be put off. Focus on the little things, those things you never thought you’d end up doing. Just remember, if as a couple you can get through this then frankly you can get through anything.

I need to sort my shit out

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I think I made a breakthrough discovery yesterday about my own student psychology. I realised that, similar to some of my friends and all of my family, there was a direct correlation between how much of my shit I have together and the state of my room. Many of you probably understand where I’m coming from. Most of my time in my room is spent deep in essay crisis while cups of tea in different stages of being drunk, strewn around the room, sit there silently, mocking me. Hobnobs, half-eaten, are used as bookmarks for books that I definitely won’t get to read.

In summary, my room is a mess. On my days of confusion, stress or apathy, my room reflects my mood perfectly, like a strange kind of pathetic fallacy lifted from the pages of a modernist novel. Perhaps it’s intentional. In pockets of free time, especially when it’s a nice day, I will decide to clean my room. It manifests the ultimately unhelpful illusion that I’m on top of things. Then I’ll pace around proudly, purposefully walking with flat feet, enjoying not having to tiptoe around clothing and paper.

This was the way my mind and room operated in tandem for as long as I can remember. Then it all changed. I started sleep walking. It used to be a small family joke, where I’d do nothing of consequence. When I was three or four, I’d be found asleep downstairs with duvet and pillow on the kitchen floor, or in the hall, like some sort of teleporting toddler. This was all very funny. That was until I was in my late teens,and I became the subject of repeated anecdotes told around the dinner table, but I didn’t mind, I’d grown out of it, I no longer was to be found lying facedown on the ironing board, covered in laundry, or in the sitting room, having displaced my cat from the usual moth-eaten sofa.

Then it all started up again. Somehow, my brain decided that in the night I needed to become an intrepid explorer, the Indiana Jones of slumber, seeking new and hilarious places to be found asleep. After a few mishaps, I managed to sort of defeat this trait in me, firstly by locking my door and secondly by placing Lego on the floor. Nothing wakes you up faster. So it died down again. I felt quite triumphant, and, every time I woke up facing the Australian flag above my bed, I felt a sense of victory.

This year, however, it has come back, but in a new and totally frightening way. It resurfaced when, after feeling pretty confused and stressed after a difficult day, my room was far from tidy. Then, in the dead of night I woke up and cleaned it. Meticulously. Shoes in the shoe box, notes in the right sections of the right drawers, clothing folded and put away. When I woke up, I thought I’d been robbed. I jumped out of bed and in my state of delirium burst into my best friend’s room and told him to come and see, coaxing him as if Santa had arrived. Despite the obvious attractions of such an offer, he didn’t appear to be very interested and he rolled over to go back to sleep, ignoring my sleepy nonsense. I, on the other hand, was very confused, and very stressed. And above all of this, the most stressful thing was that my room was the complete opposite of my mental state, tricking me into believing that I was calm and on top of things when I most certainly was not. At first I thought it was my subconscious doing me a favour. My friends couldn’t see why I was complaining – I mean, come on, I woke up with a clean room.

Then in the holidays the opposite happened. In a state of calm and collected Saturday night bliss, I went to bed in the midst of a spotless room. When I awoke, my clothes were all over my floor. What was this madness? My subconscious was definitely waging war, undeniably trying to put me off my guard; it could no longer be said that it was helpful. So I read up on it. I got some probably dubious internet advice. I tried listening to whale sounds and classical music. I debated whether Tai Chi or meditation would help. I attended a mindfulness class. I watched a programme on Channel 4 called Freaky Sleepers, reassuring myself through watching it that yeah, I occasionally go walk-about, but that was probably my inner Australian bursting out; at least I’ve never tried to cook a Full English Breakfast like Trevor from Derbyshire or paint the kitchen purple like Meg from Dorset. Perhaps it was one of these factors, but it hasn’t resurfaced since. Now, my room is a reliable indicator of the level at which my shit is together.