Sunday, May 11, 2025
Blog Page 1057

Oxford twentieth for student sugar babies

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Seekingarrangement.com has revealed that Oxford University had the 20th highest number of students sign up to be ‘sugar babies’ last year, well-behind behind its rival, Cambridge.

In its annual study of university sugar babies, the world’s largest ‘sugar daddy’ dating site revealed that 71 Oxford students had signed up in comparison to 207 from Cambridge University.In total, nearly two million students are seeking benefactors in the form of ‘sugar daddies’ and ‘mommies’ to financially support their university education, according to the study.

The site confirmed that 136 Oxford students are registered with them, whilst there are 704 at Cambridge and as many as 724 at Kent University. They have seen a 109 per cent increase in Oxford students registering on their site from the previous year and a 40 per cent over all in sign ups across UK Universities. The site helps to match wealthy benefactors “seeking mutually beneficial relationships” with “attractive” members and come to a variety of “arrangements”, ranging from dinner and conversations to sexual liaisons in return for cash and gifts.

“The French had courtesans,” the website states. “The Japanese had geishas. And in today’s society, we now have sugar babies.”

The average ‘sugar baby’ allowance is £2,000. On average, members put 36 per cent of this towards tuition, 23 per cent towards rent and 20 per cent towards books, with clothes and transport revealing much lower percentages of five and nine per cent respectively, the site disclosed. Last year, SeekingArrangement.com found that only 20 per cent of relationships started on the site were not sexual.

The group commented , “Oxford may be one of the cheapest cities for student accommodation, but the University of Oxford is one of the most expensive in the nation. Many students have found an alternative route to pay for university and associated costs by turning to SeekingArrangement to find sugar daddies and mommies.”

“Perhaps one of the most alluring benefits of pursuing sugar daddies, aside from financial stability, is the mentorship and opportunities from dating someone who is of a higher social and economic standing. Most students hear about SeekingArrangement, and this lifestyle from other students who have used it”

“This is not part-time work, or any type of work for that matter. Arrangements are relationships, albeit constructed differently than traditional relationships.”

“Financial reasons aside. The society we live in has changed, and there is interest in alternative relationship models. Arrangements are a modern take on relationships with traditional values.”

“Women are unfairly labelled ‘gold diggers’ if they are vocal about wanting a successful partner. The up-front nature of arrangements, being able to lay out exactly the type of person and relationship you want, without fear of judgement or stigma from potential partners’ is empowering. If men are allowed to vocalise what qualities they want in a partner, say being educated and beautiful, then women should be encouraged to do the same for whichever qualities they value.”

SeekingArrangement.com offers free premium memberships to students that register with their university email address or if they show proof of their enrolment. Premium accounts allow students to feature on the site, “increasing their visibility and chances of securing an arrangement” to “sugar daddies and mommies”.

The site currently boasts over 5 million members and was founded by MIT graduate and online-dating expert, Brandon Wade. Members can join for free.

Natasha Gibbs, an undergraduate at Merton, commented, “Relying on these older men, or women, seems to undermine the independence that these students are trying to achieve by pursuing higher education, and the figures are worryingly high in some universities. That said, it is sad that so many young women feel that they have no choice but to turn to such measures in order to pay for their degrees, and perhaps the level of financial support available to students who are struggling with money needs to be addressed.”

Jack Harrison, a second year at Pembroke, said, “The nature of tuition fee increases, combined with the intense nature of Oxford times makes it hardly surprising that students are feeling the need to potentially compromise themselves out of a necessity to pay their way.”

But one ‘sugar baby’ from Cambridge said, “I feel such an arrangement gives me a freedom”, with another noting “it’s an easy, convenient way to support myself.”

 Oxford University declined to comment.

LMH flirts with the famous

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Lady Margaret Hall has welcomed 11 new visiting fellows including actors Emma Watson and Benedict Cumberbatch and Pet Shop Boys singer Neil Tennant.

The appointments were announced in an online statement by Alan Rusbridger, Principal of LMH. Rusbridger wrote, “Today we welcome 11 new visiting fellows to Lady Margaret Hall. They are people drawn from a variety of backgrounds, callings and professions and we want them to form a bridge between our own academic community and the worlds they inhabit and represent.”

Other appointments include the author and former children’s laureate Malorie Blackman; Beeban Kidron, known for her role as director of Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason; the chief constable of Thames Valley police, Francis Habgood; High Court judge Rabinder Singh and clarinetist and winner of the BBC Young Musician of the Year award in 2006, Mark Simpson.

A provisional list of visiting fellows was constructed by Lady Margaret Hall’s governing body, and was then narrowed down by a smaller committee. Only one of the appointments that the College proposed turned the position down. The visiting fellows are appointed for a term of three years.

Rusbridger, himself a former editor of The Guardian who took up his post at LMH in September 2015, stated, “We hope they will occasionally come and eat at College as well as tutors, alumni, students and support staff . One or two have already come up with other ideas for how they might use their relationship with LMH to develop other projects and thinking.”

Rusbridger, in a post on his blog, mentioned that the appointment of non-academic visiting fellows in Oxford was originally the idea of Lord Nuffield, who invited people from a variety of backgrounds to his college. Rusbridger commented, “Alongside the students and tutors [visiting Nuffield] there would be bishops, bankers, spies, journalists and economists. Lord Nuffield, it seemed to me, was on to something: this was a way of enriching the life of a college and its students, and of blowing oxygen through the corridors.”

This is not the first time celebrities have walked the corridors of Oxford colleges: the Cameron Mackintosh visiting professorship at St Catz has been filled by personalities such as Stephen Fry, Patrick Stewart and Diana Rigg. Rusbridger, indeed, celebrated the non-academic nature of the appointments, stating, “The obvious thing to note is that – deliberately – only one is an academic. “The College already has many very distinguished honorary fellows, most of whom have had notable careers of scholarship.”

“Our visiting fellows bring a different kind of experience. They have all, in their different ways, achieved great distinction in their chosen fields, professions or calling. LMH is already a deeply interesting place. “It just got even more interesting.”

St Hilda’s JCR tries to prevent ‘Prevent’

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St Hilda’s College JCR passed a motion seeking to “boycott Prevent” earlier this week.

The Counter Terrorism and Security Act (2015) requires universities to implement ‘Prevent Duty’, a series of measures designed to ensure “due regard to the need to prevent people from being drawn into terrorism”.

Oxford will have to be fully compliant with Prevent by August this year; the Higher Education and Funding Council for England has been given responsibility to monitor how the been given responsibility to monitor how the University has met the new counter-terrorism.

The motion, proposed by the JCR President and seconded by the St Hilda’s student BME officer, mandates JCR officers “not to co-operate with the Prevent strategy” and to “boycott it as far as legally possible”.

The JCR has also committed to “lobby the College to be completely open and transparent about how it is engaging with Prevent” by providing the JCR with access to the publications used to train staff and students to spot potentially radicalised individuals, as well as to hold consultations within the student body.

Hilda’s JCR president, Mollie MacGinty, argued that “the act further criminalises Muslims and black people,” and raised concerns that the concepts of ‘extremism’ and ‘radicalism’ are “ill defined and open to abuse for political ends”.

The Oxford University Student Union passed a similar motion in October last year to “not cooperate with the [government’s] Prevent strategy”. In February 2015, over 500 academics signed an open letter condemning the Counter Terrorism and Security Act when it received Royal Assent, declaring that it remains “a threat to freedom of speech at universities.”

Aliya Yule, third year undergraduate at Wadham and the proposer of the OUSU motion last year, told Cherwell , “The new Prevent legislation (2015) poses a huge threat to all students, but in particular Muslim and BME students. “Most notably, plans to implement the legislation include monitoring prayer rooms and religious facilities, having welfare staff , including JCR and MCR Welfare Offi cers, trained to look out for signs of ‘extremism’, and stopping people speaking whose views could be deemed problematic. In a climate of increasing Islamophobia, and in a university where 60 per cent of BME students feel “The Prevent legislation poses a huge threat to all students”unwelcome or uncomfortable on account of their race or ethnicity, Prevent will have a hugely negative impact on Muslim and BME students.”

Yussef Robinson, who is the BME officer at St Hilda’s and who seconded the motion, said, “Our Counselling Service will now be trained and required to report on ‘suspicious’ students. This is inherently awful and it will further marginalise BME students at the University; we will now feel less comfortable approaching the counselling service. I would have been far less able to have an effective discussion in my counselling sessions if I thought my words might be reported back to the state.”

Oxford City Council rejects housing benefit cap

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Oxford City Council has voted unanimously in opposition to the Government’s proposed new cap on Housing Benefit, over fears that it will render supported housing schemes for vulnerable groups in Oxford financially inviable.

The proposal was announced by Chancellor George Osborne in his Autumn Statement, as part of a £12 billion programme of welfare cuts.The Government intends to extend the Local Housing Allowance, which caps housing benefit rents just below the local average market rent, to all social housing from 2018. Supported accommodation schemes for vulnerable groups, such as mental health sufferers, domestic violence victims and homeless people, will be subject to the cap. Critics insist that the cap will not leave these services with enough money to continue operating.

One of the local services set to be affected by the change is Oxford Homeless Pathways, which provides, amongst other services, emergency accommodation to homeless people at O’Hanlon House in the city centre. The charity’s Chief Executive, Lesley Dewhurst, said of the cap, “It would have a profoundly negative effect on the kind of supported accommodation that we run.” The cost of a room at O’Hanlon House is currently just over £200 per week, which is met entirely by housing benefit. The proposed new changes would reduce housing benefit to just £80 a week, representing a 60 per cent cut in funding.

A strongly worded motion was passed unanimously by the Labour run City Council on Monday, roundly condemning the plans. The motion describes the Government’s proposal as “completely incompatible with the basic tenets of a civilised society” and accuses the Government of being “committed to the wholesale destruction of all social housing”.

Councillor Alex Hollingsworth, who proposed the motion, told Cherwell, “Providing supported homes for those that need it people with mental and physical health problems, those sheltering from domestic violence or trying to free themselves from addiction – is a basic duty of a civilised society. This proposal will destroy that provision, and the government needs to be shamed into abandoning its plans.”

 Following this motion, the Leader of the Council will be writing to both of Oxford’s MPs asking them to oppose the changes “in the strongest possible terms”.

The developments come amid controversy over Oxfordshire County Council’s decision lastmonth to cut its budget for homelessness services by 65 per cent.

Mark Thompson, chief executive of Connection Floating Support, an Oxford-based charity which provides housing and mental health services, told Cherwell, “If there was a way of separating the extra and legitimate costs from the core rent such that only the core rent could be chargeable to people living in such accommodation, that would be great.” Under this suggestion, the portion of social Housing Benefit spent on accommodation itself would be brought in-line with the housing benefit received by private rental tenants, without the services currently funded via housing benefit losing out.

In response to criticism of the plans by Labour, a Government spokesman told the BBC in December, “We have increased funding to councils by 40 per cent since the last Parliament to help people who may need extra support whilst they transition to our reforms. From the outset we have been clear that vulnerable people will be supported through our welfare reforms.”

The Department for Communities and Local Government is set to report on a review of social housing in March.

Living a Double-Life

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Whenever my brother and I walk into a room, a combined four metres of awkward height and similar fashion sense, we prepare ourselves for a sort of ritualistic questioning from anyone who’s never met us before. What precedes this is the look people give the two of us: a person’s eyes will flicker over one of us, in the nonchalant sort of way one usually looks at a stranger, and then, in what they think will be a continuation of mundane room observation, they will look at the other one of us. And then, something in their brain explodes, as they question whether they’ve had one two many drinks or what was really in the double chocolate brownies. Their head will move from side to side, looking at one, then the other and back again,eyes darting between us, as they begin to comprehend: twins. Suddenly people seem to get excited, as questions rush through their heads.

Unfortunately, lot of these questions make it out of people’s mouths. On the one level, there are the classics: “Do you feel pain if the other one is hit in the face?”, “Have you ever switched places?”, “Are you telepathic?” These ones are easy to reply to (the odd, completely fabricated anecdote is always good) or the trick of both picking 638 as number between one and thousand. Then there are the questions that we answer the same everytime: no, we can’t send messages to each other by thought; yes, it means we were born on the same day; and no, we have never ever switched girlfriends (I mean come on, that’s horrible thing to do).

Last week, however, was asked an original question which shook me to my core in sort of existential way. A friend asked me,“How do you know that you were originallyHugo? Surely at the beginning, two identical looking newborns, you would have inadver- tently switched around, and unless you had badges or something. Surely your parents couldn’t tell, maybe you started life as Patrick?” This freaked me out – my brother’s name could have been mine. Maybe it was only at three, five or even 12 months down the line where I sort of settled on Hugo, finally stopping the ambiguous period of identity swapping. In my pursuit of an answer to the question, I brought it up during the holidays when my mum was looking through baby photos. “Mum”, I asked, “Which one is me?”, picking up the one of us as newborns. She didn’t hesitate; pointing to one of the two tiny little babies in a tiny little cot, she says, “That’s you”. To be frank, I didn’t believe her. My mum isn’t even 100 percent with my name today – she called me Scrabble last week, who is our cat, who is dead, so I viewed h her certainty with suspicion.

Twins have obviously interested people for a long time. Greek and Roman mythology is littered with litters of twins and triplets, from Castor and Pollux to Apollo and Artemis, and this is mirrored in the many twins in films today, from The Man in the Iron Mask to the timeless Parent Trap to Legend. There are actually really cool things about twins that most people don’t know, and no, it’s not telepathy. Most twins, for example, speak their own language during formative infant years. What sounds like babble is communication, which is why twins take longer to learn their mother tongue than non-twins. There have been several experiments done on twins separated at birth which have resulted in some surprising findings.The ‘Jim twins’ were separated at birth, but on meeting for the first time aged 39, they had both married women called Betty, named their sons James Alan, named their dogs Fido, drank the same beer and owned Chevrolet cars. Spooky, right? Mybrother and I imagine that scenario sometimes. The two of us, separated at birth, seeing each other in a train station or somewhere, doing a slow-mo run and comparing lives.

was really interested about what life would be like at uni, by myself, with my brother on a gap year, as the longest we had been apart in our lives before October 2015 was 10 days. In some ways, it’s nice to walk into room and have eyes pass idly by, but, thinking of my brother now, teaching orphans in the middle of Peruvian jungle, I’m certain that he, like me, misses the absurdity of entering a room together.

Rewind: Ezra Pound

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It is 68 years this week since Ezra Pound won the Bollingen Prize for his poetry. A seemingly squeaky clean act. A person being recognised for their success – yeah, great, we get it.

But, there is a slight catch. Pound is a man I have struggled with for years. You see, he raises a problem. He is an astute and powerful poet, albeit at times cryptic. The problem does not lie in poetic ineptitude. In fact, the problem is quite how good he is. Pound was not just a good poet, but also, after living through World War I, a fascist. He became anti-Semitic and openly supported Hitler. He was charged for treason and kept in detention in Pisa, eventually suffering from a mental breakdown.

Pound won the Bollingen Prize for work that he began whilst in detention; for work created after having grown into the controversial figure we now know of. But he was still commended for his skills, and not just that, but was the first person to win the Bollingen Prize.

Pound, as a poet, is seductive. Alba reads, “As cool as the pale wet leaves / of lily-of-the-valley /She lay beside me in the dawn”. He is delicate and softly articulate, creating intensely sensory tableaux as well as, in his longer pieces, threaded narratives that are unavoidably good. Pound too, was an excellent editor, significantly aiding the transformation of The Waste Land into the canon that it is today. Boy is Pound good, but boy is he not squeaky clean.

The notion of reconciling yourself, artistically, with those who are morally dubious is a difficult one. Much like the well-known dilemma that a young Joseph Stalin was actually quite attractive, how does one reconcile themselves with the knowledge that Ezra Pound was far from a moral figure?

Separating the artist from the artwork is an argument exercised over and over again. It would be handy, certainly. It seems troubling that Pound was the man that he was. But art is rarely settling. Interpreting art with a sensitivity for its creator can often bring substantial worth. I don’t like Pound as a person. But the delicacy of some of his poetry is not shattered by his discordant persona.

It is made easier with distance. For posthumously, and with years gone by, detachment raises its head. And so I read Pound, and I like it. Most of the conflict he inflicts, I decide, is not in his specific immorality, but in his general contribution to the misery that proliferates into this world and lingers. I hate him for adding to this multitude. But I am not tarnished in respecting his poetry.

I Need to Sort my Shit Out

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Week Four, Hilary. Half way through and I have absolutely no concept of whether it’s gone incredibly fast or incredibly slow. I think it was fast, no matter how many days those 9am lectures seemed to last. Now, we all know that life as an Oxford student is one of high demand, high pressure, and high caffeine. Sometimes we think we’re handling everything quite reasonably; there’s one fewer essay this week, I’ve done more reading, etc. But then again, there will inevitably be these moments when we sit back, take our minds out of work and back into the real world, and think, “Wow…I need to get my shit together.” You realise, no matter where you look – be it your work, social, or general life-life – there will always be shit that needs to be reigned in, shackled up and pulled back together again.

There’s always the usual, boring domestic stuff that needs sorting out: there’s too much washing up, too much mould, there are never enough mugs in the world and the clothes now live on the chair as opposed to in the wardrobe. However, the latest of my increasingly frequent ‘I Need to Get My Shit Together’ moments occurred earlier this week (or maybe it was two weeks ago; time is definitely one thing on the list that still needs sorting.) I was getting some work done in the library, let’s say ‘the other day,’ when I underwent the most remarkable epiphany. I had left my computer for a mere 30 seconds, in the hands of a very trustworthy and not-at-all-mischievous friend, to retrieve some ‘thrilling’ book or other from a nearby shelf. It was upon my return that I saw it. You see, instead of my half-written, half-researched, half-arsed essay laboured across my screen, there was a very clear, font-size 72, message: EITHNE NEEDS TO GET HER SHIT TOGETHER. Now, as to where this could have come from I have absolutely no idea. Why, all who looked upon it could not fathom its origin; my work-pal could hardly speak through curious fits of strange giggles. Curiouser and curiouser. Still, there’s no need to venture too far down the rabbit hole in search of answers. The message was incredibly accurate. Sadly, dear reader, I do need to get my proverbial ‘shit’ together. This is coming to you from a frightened student who is currently writing this very article in her college library, unwashed and unshaven, ferociously fighting off not one, but two moths that keep flying into her face (I’m pretty sure those who have noticed my mad arm movements have assumed I’ve gone essay-crisis bonkers. Not half wrong, mind you). And to be honest, this pretty much sums up the state of my mind: lots of flailing without really achieving any- thing. Maybe it would be better to give some context, maybe if I were to explain some events that have led up to this point.

Now, I’m one of those people who needs something or someone to ground me. Be it an activity over the course of a month, or even just a cup of tea in the wee hours with someone who makes me smile. Being never short of opportunities for the latter, this week I made the bold choice that I would branch out into the former. This grand undertaking lead me to an audition room for an up-and-coming student play that I shall leave nameless. Hav- ing had plenty of audition experience and a sadly small amount of success, the fear of it has rather worn thin. Nevertheless, I made my arrangements to be as well prepared as possible. I abstained from a Saturday night’s drinking (a heart-wrenching endeavour on bop night) and felt gloriously ‘cleansed’ the following morn- ing in a way that I have never felt before. But as always, this served as a valuable lesson in watching the shit we think we’ve got together slowly unravel. To avoid any extended detail, I’ll summarise: lines were forgotten, people were spat on, and through a combination of a slippery floor and inadvisable footwear, I somehow ended up on my bum at the director’s knees. Not the way that was meant to go.

To turn back time, the week started with a lesson in getting the ‘academic shit’ together, which ultimately led to another of these valuable lessons. A week of perpetual slacking kicked off in the underground bunker of a seminar room, devoid of nature’s light or any light except the glare of laptop screens and fluorescent hospital lighting. Although propped up by the warm familiarity of friends and copious amounts of tea, there is no escape from the inevitable realisation that (from an English student’s viewpoint anyway) I simply haven’t read enough books. Not only do I not know enough alternative literature (or at least alternative to me) to sound interesting in my degree, I have also not read enough of the impeccably famous and ingenious. This is where that ever-elusive concept of Oxford-time really starts eating away at the limits of your shit-ordering abilities. We’re all here in this amazing place, bristling with intelligence, excitement and opportunity, but taking a moment to try and mentally grasp how much there is of it can be truly quite terrifying. I say terrifying, but really it’s just that oh-so familiar feeling of ‘Where do I start?’, ‘Where do I go first?’, ‘Am I even good enough to try?’. But I guess that’s just it: there’s always too much shit. Nothing’s ever enough to straddle confidence in a degree, or your life, entirely. No matter where you are, there’s always more that needs to be done, and even more that you want to do outside of that.

A Letter to…Meat-Free Mondays

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The other day, at the beginning of a crew date at Arzoo’s, one of the girls asked if they had any vegan plates. At this, the bemused waiter replied “Vegan? What’s that, no meat? No nothing…?” I felt a surge of admiration for the staff of Arzoo’s. Not that I really have a problem with vegans – if you want to live off lentils and kale I wont stop you – just please don’t make me eat them. I was therefore very disappointed at the prospect of Meat-Free Mondays. As Paul McCartney’s veganistic lovechild, you strive to raise awareness about the detrimental environ- mental impact of eating meat.

It can’t be said that you’re not popular, though. Most of the colleges in Oxford love you. But I’m not convinced. I can’t help but feel that the driving force behind its promotion is not eco- logical. Instead, it is a reaction of the sidelined, one-option-in-hall vegetarians and vegans, who would do anything to close the abattoirs of England and outlaw Cumberland sausages.

A compromise would have been possible – two meat options one day, two vegetarian the next – but things have spiralled out of control now. The audacity of trying to deny people not only bacon but also chicken, beef, lamb and fish means the two sides cannot be reconciled. Thanks to you, you malicious meat-sucker, friendships will be tested, but so long as there isn’t a Gluten Free Fridays campaign, I’m sure we will all break bread together in the near future.

If you and your army of enraged vegetarians and vegans was really so concerned with the environment then there are many places to begin before condemning steak tartare. To begin with, the Chemistry Faculty, who are proudly sponsored by BP. In my humble opinion, tackling the University’s close affiliations with oil companies is a more worthwhile pursuit than imposing chickpea curry on innocent hungry undergrads. Buy a bike, go litter picking, use a bag-for-life, but for God’s sake, do not force me to eat a quinoa salad. Undoubtedly, the worst thing about you is that you are on a Monday. It is universally accepted that Monday is the worst day of the week, so why make it worse by taking away meat? I’m sure people would be more accepting of the campaign if it was on Thursday or Friday; then we could struggle through one hungry day and gorge themselves on foie gras at the weekend. I know alliteration is pleasant on the ear but I will not support a campaign that is based on it.

It was one thing for Jamie Oliver to take away our Turkey Twizzlers, but it is another to deny access to meat for hundreds of students. Where does it end? In five years there will be no choices, just one meal served everyday, for every meal, for everyone.

Creaming Spires: HT16 Week 4

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First sex encounters with strangers can always be a bit of a hit or miss type of situation. But in today’s endless use of internet and programming it has become socially common through cyber interaction to meet strangers and have meaningless sex. One can judge and one can point fingers; hell, I used to be that obnoxious goodie-goodie who looked down on my sister’s acquaintance who now has a ‘Tinder baby’. But if you’ve never tried it or are unaware of the circumstances, can we really judge? 

Society’s approach towards meaningless sex takes a more indirect road. After all, how many of the people who go on a night out are really just looking to ‘get some’? A simple solution to your endless nights of lingering around, enjoying the music and company when you’re really looking for some action is surely to download a ‘dating’ app on your phone. So that’s exactly what I did. Here I was on my way to meet this tattooed Italian who embodied the definition of cheesy gym rat; looks were clearly not in my criteria for a one-off. It was embarrassing enough that I took a 30-minute train ride to get laid in the ghetto of a European suburb, but also mildly regretful when I discovered he was about a third of my size with tainted blue sunglasses. Inside, the foreplay was minimal and not satisfactory. At this point I just wanted to be pounded and get it over with. He began to rub against me with a slightly disappointing size and not enough lubricant. I like lubricant. Just as I was thinking “put it in already!” he let out a deep groan and collapsed on my back. I jerked my head backwards and asked him that post climatic question we all dread. He said, “What? Oh shit, was I not inside of you?”

I wanted to laugh but was also in a state of dramatic teenage shock. I left the building with a cloud of anti-climatic weight over my head, even though the sun was super aggressive that day, annoyingly so. I was bewildered and my walk of shame, with my fly open, was not worth the super hot sex that I had just had. Should I be flattered or upset? I remember feeling more angry at the fact that my itch was not scratched after a trek to the outskirts of the city, and that I had to invest even more time on public transport. That being said, public transport can be comforting, and I reflected on the silly encounter even though it was unworthy of my dramatic analysis. From past encounters, I could handle girls telling me I was too hairy or guys asking me why I don’t go to the gym and feeling excess amounts of self-loathing. Now, however, I was in the driver’s seat. It was my turn to ask, “Why are you so bad at sex and why did you cum so quickly?!” I decided to take the high road and bask in my own unnecessary shame. To make myself feel better, I thought that as humans sometimes you just have to bang a frog, or in my case almost bang a frog, and not think about Mr or Mrs Right. So, moral of the story: start sleep- ing with cyber-land strangers. Yes, I admit I was horny, but just for the record, I have never farted in my life.

Go on, like my photo, make my day

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In this hellish dystopia we find ourselves living in, we all know that the only measure of individual worth comes from the number of likes on our profile pictures. Equally, the only validation we can find in this internet age utterly barren of personal relationships, the reassurances of family, faith and the moral certainty that came before we all spent inordinate amounts of time staring at flickering blue screens come with the number of likes publicly accrued on pictures, posts, and comments, in the only arena of competition that really matters anymore Facebook. In Samuel Beckett’s words, we need Facebook to “remind us we exist”.

With all of that in mind, look no further for an only partially sarcastic tutorial on how to maximise the arbitrary number of people contributing to your happiness by mindlessly pressing a button and delivering you that longed-for hit of dopamine, which we used to be able to produce naturally, without the help of Mark Zuckerberg’s enormous network of insecurity disguised as friendship.

1. Timing. Just like with comedy, successfully garnering likes on a profile picture is heavily reliant on impeccable timing. There are a variety of avenues to be explored in attempting to swell those precious digits of endorsement, from which we gain so much pleasure. An age-old tactic is to upload the pic directly after hall, but before pressing start (between 8-8.30pm), a time when a blanket of slightly bored and listless student types across your social network will inevitably be staring into the infinite abyss of their news feeds, thus maximising your coverage. The added bonus of aiming for this timeslot on a club night (Thurs- days are probably your best bet) is that you inevitably end up receiving a flood of drunken likes later on in the evening quite possibly from former partners, or quite inhibited types who can’t quite bring themselves to press the big blue button unless under the influence.

Another strategy that I recently came across was the controversial early morning posting. Aiming for somewhere between 7.30-8am allows you to latch on to the legions of young people who immediately turn to the internet to pass the time between waking up and actually doing something productive with their day. It’s best to aim for a morning when people will actually be up before noon (Monday is my personal favourite), but this methodology does make something of a gamble in hoping that the picture will stay high enough on news feeds over the course of the day to doubly benefit from the aforementioned late night rush, but if it pays off then it can pay enormous dividends.

There is an enormous divergence of schools of thought in the timing of a post, and I have seen many other, less traditional techniques work to great effect.

2. Content. The actual content of a profile picture is difficult to systematise, but generally the really successful ones tend to score highly in at least one of the following categories:

a) Conventional attractiveness. Let’s not beat around the bush here – conventionally attractive people tend to get a higher number of likes, and this fact is part of the reason that getting likes is such a desirable goal. This box can also be ticked by having someone else considerably more attractive than you in the picture as well.

b) Character. Does the profile picture perfectly encapsulate ‘you’? Does it display a facet of your character that your Facebook friends will instantly recognise and reflect ‘oh that’s SO you!’ Are you a tireless hack? A Union picture won’t go far amiss. Do you have delusions of indie-dom? Something arty and deep calls for you from the depths of your disposable.

c) Artistic quality of the picture (closely interlinked with ‘indie’ subsection of B). Photography is actually really hard, so a properly lit, high quality and well-composed picture can be vital to your efforts.

3.Originality. This final factor must be kept in mind when posting on large groups or events. Now when I say originality, I don’t mean bizarre, off the wall, random ludicrousness – it needs to be something everybody viewing the post can relate to. You must channel the zeitgeist of the feelings of the mob, capitalise on an injustice they can all relate to, and ride the tidal wave of popular support like a demagogue.

Similarly, you can capitalise in student circles on the all too true clichés of the iniquities of the world we live in. Oxford is particularly ripe for this strand which leans into profoundly imaginative satire, but again plugging into a broadly accepted narrative that something isn’t quite right.

With these handy tips, you’ll be better prepared to revel in our cult of vacuity and mindless narcissism which, as the world increasingly goes to hell in a handcart, is the only thing that makes life worth living. But don’t be downhearted. Your self-worth won’t be devalued because of your subscription to our modern societal norms. You’re simply teaching yourself how to survive in this world where the amount of likes you have on your profile picture correlates directly to your personal happiness and sanity. Feed your ego. You deserve it, you delicious little social climber