Saturday 23rd August 2025
Blog Page 1207

Has the Tories’ electoral mastermind delivered the goods?

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Much was made of Lynton Crosby’s appointment as a key election adviser to the Conservative party in 2013. Having cultivated an image as being one of the most successful political consultants of his generation, and one of the most ruthless, there was a high expectation in his ability to improve the strategic prospects of the Conservative Party. And it would have been a reasonable assumption to make. Having masterminded four consecutive general election victories for the Australian Liberal Party between 1996 and 2004, as well as succeeding in leading a Conservative candidate (Boris Johnson) to successive victories in the predominately Labour city of London, it is understandable why the Conservatives would seek to utilise his expertise.

‘The Master of the dark political arts’, ‘The Australian Karl Rove’ and ‘The Wizard of Oz’ are just some of the titles that Crosby has gained in a 20 year career in right-wing politics. Yet, as we enter the closing stages of a campaign that Crosby has been at the centre of planning for, we must ask the growing question: how successful has he been?

It is undoubtedly the case that Crosby has achieved significant political success in rebuilding the public reputation of the Conservative Party in the run-up to this election. Having been appointed when the Tories were in the nadir of their popularity as a result of a flat lining economy and internal coalition divisions, his skills were certainly required. And, indeed, he has delivered in giving focus to the Tory economic message and providing stark dividing lines between the Conservatives and Labour.

By focussing on key areas where the Conservatives still had a structural polling majority, Crosby has sought to utilise key Tory strengths to shore up the core vote and persuade fluctuating voters to remain faithful in the Government’s economic agenda. The political dividing line was not between uncaring austerity and moderate fiscal action (as Labour had argued), but rather between a Conservative Party who was able to implement a responsible economic policy and a Labour Party that was incapable of taking the tough actions required. Whether or not this narrative is true is irrelevant. It is the case, however, that he successfully shifted the terms on which austerity was debated in British politics. Yet, just one week short of this election campaign, he has of yet been unable to make the significant breakthrough that the Tories had hoped he would have. The polling is still unnervingly static for the Conservatives, with neither the Tories nor Labour being able to break out of the 33-35 per cent margin in sustained polls. Entering into this election with a successful economic record, and high personal ratings, David Cameron would have had much faith in Crosby’s promise of the “cross-over” point (when the Conservatives finally gain momentum over Labour). Suffice to say this point has not materialised.

This has partly been because of external factors that have structurally disadvantaged the Conservatives, such as the failure to pass boundary reform and UKIP solidifying around 10 percent of the national vote, but it is also because of the failure – of Crosby – to have developed the Conservative campaign beyond his pre-election strategy. Prior to the campaigns officially getting underway, the Conservatives had cultivated a message based on two principal factors: economic success and the personal popularity of David Cameron versus Ed Miliband. Both were important dividing lines, but to make them focal points in the election itself has been totally insufficient.

The Conservatives have simply failed to engage with the distinction that Labour has been able to make in the eyes of the public – between economic growth and living standards. By simply emphasising the success of the “long term economic plan” in statistics such as the rate of GDP growth and the fall in unemployment, the Tories failed to personalise their economic message. This was a key mistake, resulting in a Conservative message of economic triumphalism that seems totally disconnected from the experience of many ordinary people.

It was also an entirely flawed notion to focus so much attention on Ed Miliband. Of course public perception of him as a leader would not remain so systemically low. During any election campaign, the leader of the opposition gains a huge amount of public exposure and are presented with an opportunity to elevate their personal profile and political message.

Moreover, low expectations of Ed Miliband were already baked into the polls months before the election took place, and yet the Conservatives had failed to make a breakthrough. This means that there are millions of undecided voters in the election who have already made their mind up about Ed Miliband, yet still cannot bring themselves to vote Conservative. The more Crosby attacks a leader who is raising his personal profile, the more negative, and desperate, his own campaign appears.

Can Crosby defy the odds and deliver an election victory for the Tories? No. Can the Conservatives still govern after the election? Unlikely. But one thing is for certain. The strategy, so far, has not delivered.

The Ugly Politics of the Silver Screen

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I always find it amusing to imagine that when Ed Miliband returns from a hard day of electoral campaigning, he is greeted by a Malcolm Tucker-esque figure who gives him one hell of a bollocking. “Fuck me! You were like a clown running across a minefield”, or something along those lines – preferably in Peter Capaldi’s Glasgow grizzle. Tucker was reportedly based on real life spin-doctors – most notably Alastair Campbell – who liberally oozed profanity in the workplace, and his overwhelming popularity with audiences proves that there’s something hilariously tragic about a politician coming back to HQ with their tail between their legs, ready for a spanking.

Politicians and their ilk get a pretty bad rap on screen. Why is it that we find Kevin Spacey’s Machiavellian Frank Underwood ten thousand times more appealing – and more believable – than Ryan Gosling’s handsome campaign manager with a gooey moral centre in The Ides of March? Despite polls claiming practically every week that people want to see more “down-to-earth” and “normal” politicians, film and television is repeatedly suggesting precisely the opposite. The realm of politics on screen is populated by either bumbling idiots or ruthless schemers. It’s a dog-eat-dog world. Audiences seem to get a kick out of watching elected officials crash and burn – that’s certainly what made Spitting Image so popular.

There’s just nothing interesting about a “good” politician – that is to say, a politician who lacks significant controversy. How many films have there been about Henry Campbell-Bannerman, Prime Minister from 1899 to 1905? Conversely, how many times have biopics of Richard Nixon graced our screens? He’s been played by the likes of Anthony Hopkins, Frank Langella, and John Cusack. Why? Because he’s a President that made a big mistake. The Watergate Scandal was immediately capitalised upon in All The President’s Men (1976) and screen executives haven’t been able to keep their hands off it since. Even Winston Churchill – one of Britain’s most iconic and arguably beloved figures – is hounded by cinema because he served as PM during one of the most tumultuous and testing times in world history (plus he was a pretty interesting guy). And Michael Sheen seems to have made a career for himself playing the not-so-smooth and far from uncontroversial Tony Blair in a string of political flicks (The Deal, The Queen, The Special Relationship).

Slipping up seems to have become synonymous with the job description of an elected official. With great power comes great responsibility, and with great responsibility comes the inevitable likelihood of big mistakes. In spite of the intensive personal vigor and astuteness undoubtedly required to work one’s way up the political ladder, officials are so often viewed and portrayed as stupid. As soon as Arnold Schwarzenegger is elected President in The Simpsons Movie, he becomes simultaneously illiterate. Poor Margaret Thatcher couldn’t even escape the cutting knife of the silver screen when it suggested her post-politics decrepitude in The Iron Lady. Out of the 55 Prime Minsters Britain has held, 41 of them attended Oxbridge – isn’t it time we stopped pretending that they’re unintelligent beings?

As Reese Witherspoon’s Tracy Flick in Election demonstrates, a lot of work goes into a political campaign, but when the tide of a whole country is mounting upon you, it just isn’t possible to please everyone. The simple fact of the matter is that film and TV love to see politicians embroiled in a good scandal – a good failure. It makes for a great story. I’m surprised there hasn’t been a miniseries about that time Gordon Brown called a voter a “bigoted woman”, or when David Cameron claimed that the Queen “purred down the line” upon hearing the result of the Scottish referendum. But with the success of hit series VEEP, House of Cards, and even ITV’s Newzoids, it doesn’t seem like screen executives are anywhere near finished giving politicians the Tucker-treatment. 

Tory outrage at Lib Dem claims

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Sparks have been flying in the Oxford West & Abingdon election race this week, as Liberal Democrat candidate Layla Moran told Cherwell in a video interview that there were “links” between the Conservative Party and a 2010 leaflet campaign against former Lib Dem MP for the area Dr Evan Harris.

During the 2010 General Election, leaflets were distributed calling Harris “Dr Death”, in response to his liberal views on abortion and euthanasia. 

At the time, Harris told the Oxford Mail, “it is a pity that, instead of putting up a candidate to contest the election, an anonymous group, using money from no-one knows where, is distributing an inacurate personal attack leaflet in this constituency for the first time ever.

“It is offensive and  would say profoundly uncristian to use the term ‘Dr Death’ – associated with Nazi murderer Joseph Mengele or mass-murderer Harold Shipman – to describe any politician.”

The Blackwood campaign also issued a statement on the matter back in 2010, saying, “Nicola has distanced herself from the literature distributed by private individuals and special interest and pressure groups attacking her opponent.”

Speaking about the 2010 election, Layla Moran said to Cherwell, “in the last few moments of the campaign, the Conservatives put out a ‘Dr Death’ leaflet because of the MP’s stance on abortion rights.”

When it was pointed out that there is no evidence that the Conservative Party was behind those leaflets, Moran admitted, “It’s not directly attributed to them, that’s true, but there are links between the two, let’s leave it at that.”

Nicola Blackwwod’s office strongly rejected the suggestion of Conservative involvement in the campaign. In a statement to Cherwell, she said, “Her comments are outrageous and untrue. The leaflet which referred to ‘Dr Death’, a phrase lifted from the tabloids, was distributed and paid for by the Animal Rights Party and a second leaflet, which referred to various conscience issues, was paid for and distributed independently by a local vicar, Rev Lynda Rose.

“At the time of their distribution the Conservative agent contacted the Liberal Democrat agent [Neil Fawcett] to assure him we neither endorsed the leaflets nor had any involvement with them. He assured us he knew that, he is the current Liberal Democrat agent.”

The Moran campaign has since backpedaled over the accusations, with campaign manager Neil Fawcett, who also worked on Dr Harris’ campaign in 2010, telling Cherwell, “As far as the leaflets that went out last time are concerned, there was no evidence that they were anything to do with the Conservative campaign, but they certainly helped divert our time and effort in the last week of the election.

“We will never know what impact thaey had on the actual result, and they seemed to motivate people both for and gainst Evan.”

He went on to comment, “I don’t think there was any hard evidence that there was a direct link between the Conservative campaign and those nasty leaflets.

“So while it may have been the intention of the people producing the leaflets, particularly Lynda Rose, to help Nicola Blackwood defeat Evan, it would be wrong of me to make any claims about a direct link.”

Layla Moran indictaed her agreement with Fawcett’s statement and said she apologised if she had “accidentally misrepresented anything”.

The ‘Dr Death’ leaflets were alleged to have been published by Keith Mann, a candidate in 2010 for the Animal Protection Party. However Dr Harris was also referring to a second set of leaflets distributed by Rev Lynda Rose, the former UK spokesperson for Anglican Mainstream, a conservative Anglican organisation.

 The Anglican mainstream has been accused of homophobia in the past, largely because of its London campaign advertising the existence of “ex-gays”. Rose, meanwhile, has been vocal in her opposition to same-sex marriage, and has been a trustee of the Oxford-based pro-life charity, LIFE.

While the “links” to which Moran referred to could not be substantiated, it is perhaps worth noting that a number of LIFE members support the Conservative Party. 

Indeed, Mark Bhagwandin, Chairman of Oxford East Conservative Association, is also LIFE’s Senior Education and Media Officer, and was photographed with Lynda Rose at a LIFE rally in 2011.

Rose told Cherwell, “The so-called ‘Dr Death’ leaflets were entirely the works of the animal rights activists. We did put out leaflets that were entirely comments of Evan Harris himself.

“The leaflets had nothing whatsoever to do with the Conservatives, but everything to do with informing the Christian pro-life vote of his position.”

She also wanted to make clear the differences between Keith Mann’s leaflets, which called Harris “Dr Death”, and her leaflets, which only reported that he had been given the nickname. 

A copy of the leaflet has been seen by Cherwell, and is reproduced in full below. Under the heading, “Some facts you may not know: ANTI-LIFE ISSUES”, the leaflet reads, “The press has reported that Dr Evan Harris has been given the nickname ‘Dr Death’ in the corridors of Westminister because of his enthusiasm for abortion and voluntary euthanasia.”

It does seem that the nickname was at least somewhat widespread, and it was a particular favourite of Conservative MP Nadine Dorries, as well as Conservative Party activist and columnist Tim Montgomerie.

Syed Imam, co-Chair of Oxford University Liberal Democrats, told Cherwell, “It’s yet another example of where a Lib Dem MP stood up for what he believed in regardless of public opinion and self-cost, in this case the right of information for abortion and the right to information for dying with dignity, and sadly ultimately paid the price with his seat.

“The Dr Death campaign was a vile, personal attack on Dr Harris which included slurs such as calling him a ‘difficult loner’ simply because he was a single middle aged man as his partner had died of cancer after a long battle.

“Nicola Blackwood had a strong Christian platform and was associated with this toxic campaign in all but name.

“Dr Evan Harris has since been lauded by all sides of the scientific community since and his loss in 2010 was called a huge loss for science.”

Nadine Dorries could not be reached for comment.

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Confessions of a Chef: Laura Field

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I’m the girl who placed a jar of pasta sauce (including the metal lid) in the microwave. I’m also the girl who, fancying a good old warm glass of milk, put the glass on an Aga hot plate, which quickly shattered and splattered the milk everywhere. On my last day at home this vac, I thought I’d cook a meal for my family to go out with a bang (not the literal bang of a broken kitchen appliance but rather the figurative bang of my family being wowed by my butterfly-like transformation). My dish of choice? A paella to rival Nigella.

My first great challenge was checking that I had all of the relevant ingredients; I was forced to buy the sophisticated product that is turmeric, which I will never use again. The cooking process was surprisingly stress-free since I didn’t drop anything or burn myself. I was starving though, which made me a bit of an impatient and irritable chef. Sorry, family. As it turns out, lightly frying onion and chorizo is simple and therapeutic. I did manage to get some of the bright yellow turmeric powder on my cheek which didn’t suit me as well as my usual No7 blush.

All in all, the food looked edible upon serving and the feedback was positive so I think I might go so far as to say that this was a gastronomic success. There’s hope for us all. 

Recipe of the week: Rainy Day Soup

We’ve all been to the Co-op late on a Thursday evening and seen nothing but swedes in the discounted aisle. Well, what is the best (and perhaps only) way to use them? Soup! Takes all of about 25 minutes to create and tastes sublime (and is incredibly healthy).

Ingredients:
1 swede
2 carrots
1 onion
Spinach (your choice, baby)
Yoghurt (natural or Greek)
Vegetable stock
Water
Cumin, coriander, a bay leaf
seasoning

Method:

1. Peel and dice the swede into sizeable chunks. Chop up the carrot and onion. Pour about 200ml (although more or less is fine) into a pan with the stock and spices and leaf and then bring to the boil.
2. Add the vegetables and boil away until the swede is soft (about 18-20 mins). Then (and you’ll need a machine for this) liquidise the contents and put back on the hob at a lower heat.
3. Add the spinach until it wilts and serve with a spoonful of yoghurt. Done – wasn’t that simple?

Ready, Steady, Cook! Fray Bentos Steak Pie

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This week’s ready meal answers the age old question: are there things that cannot be microwaved? As a student, the first thing that came to my mind was, “How long should I nuke this for?” In this case I think that my microwave would not be happy if I tried. Joking aside, I found this steak and ale pie in the tinned food aisle at my local supermarket. There are no easy ways to open the tin and it will not win prizes in a beauty parade, particularly if you want to impress and take it out of the tin.

The pastry is certainly crunchy, but does not flake as pastry sometimes can. The steak is very tender. The gravy did not live up to my expectation, as it was bland and did not bring flavour to the meat, but the texture and taste of the pie made up for this though it started to lose its magic towards the end.

All in all though, I happily recommend this meal to those of you who like steak and ale pie, and not a “healthy” meal…

Una noche en El Mexicana

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My choice to try this new burrito place wasn’t inspired by the massive sign in a font worthy of a Wild West theme park that mars its otherwise not-that-tacky red brick exterior, nor the subtle hint said sign gives about the type of cuisine it boasts, but its ultra convenient location on Gloucester Green. This prize postcode provides competition both for the student-on-a-budget market and the label of “Most Inauthentic Exotic Cuisine” (I’m looking at you, Noodle Nation).

When I entered with an unwilling friend in tow the place was worryingly empty, but I generously attributed this to its infancy. Having only opened in 7th week of last term, it can’t be expected to have yet won the trust of Oxford’s student population, or to have developed regulars. Further, much of their menu makes for great street food, which can be ready in a jiffy and eaten with your hands out of cardboard packaging (props for the eco-consciousness). As we arrived, a woman in a suit with a pencil in her hair was rushing out with some nachos, inspiring my friend to order them.

Personally, I wanted something a little more filling, and so was disappointed by my surprisingly small vegetarian burrito – although listed as an option on the board behind the counter, this appeared to be just a standard meat burrito without the meat, but with no extra vegetables or alternative filling. Prior to ordering I’d been quite impressed with the competitive prices, but I quickly regretted not getting a large instead of small, which would hopefully have been the size of a small elsewhere. Though the quality of the tortilla was unimpressive and there was no whole-wheat option, and the onions were a tad overdone, the spicy rice was a delightful touch, which did actually manage to compel me to finish it. When I asked my friend how his food was, he shrugged. “It’s nachos.”

What interested me more than the mains was the drinks list, also shockingly cheap for Southeast England. When I went to get a round, I was informed that drinks could only be purchased with food, so chose churros for dessert.

The server was entirely perplexed when I asked for a mojito, telling me he’d never heard of it or had it ordered, and having to ask his boss (who, sat at a table by the window, I had mistaken for the only other customer in the room). Said boss eventually produced from the back room a perplexingly lukewarm icy slushy the colour of the Scooby Gang’s Mystery Machine, which tasted surprisingly good despite the probable quality of any spirit kept in the back room. The churros, while enjoyably saccharine, would probably make my Andalucian grandmother roll in her grave, especially because of the hot chocolate served with it, which would only be fit for the most depressing of small-town mid-England train stations.

Though I wouldn’t recommend this American chain restaurant to anyone looking for anything resembling authentic Mexican grub, its tacky décor and fantastically unhealthy food is an excellent guilty pleasure that’s easy on your student loan.

Bar Review: University

★★★★☆

Well, that’s it, I’m in love. It is time for me to throw out my Pamela Anderson posters, move out of my parents’ basement, and buy a ring – just as soon as I figure out how to propose to a cellar room. I try so earnestly to be as pissy and bitchy about the bars I review as I am about my mother’s cooking, but Univ has penetrated my heart like Joseph Gordon-Levitt holding a boom box, climbing up my fire escape. Not that he’d even need to be in the fire escape – Univ’s bar even has outdoor seating for smokers! Univ’s is everything a college bar should be and much, much more.

Found easily in the centre of the college and hidden underground, it has an almost speakeasy feel, though lacks sharply dressed gangsters and an oppressive cloud of cigarette smoke. A small, scruffy staircase opens out into a wide and attractively decorated bar. The dominant arches and blue and grey wall colours might appear dingy to some, but just seemed edgy as fuck to me. Irresistably comfy fitted sofas, flat-screen TVs and big blackboards chalked with (bestill my heart!) drinks deals line the walls. Many small tables tactically scattered ensure ample seating on one side, and having had many experiences of awkwardly hovering near-ish a bar counter with aching legs, I appreciate this. For those less grumpy, table football, darts and pool are neatly placed on the other side. The bar itself is a beautifully curved and finished wood. This is certainly the best designed college bar I’ve had the pleasure of visiting, though I must admit it was a little draughty. It was also disappointingly empty, but being Tuesday of 0th Week we’ll have to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Two lagers and one cider are offered on tap, but with many more bottled choices behind the bar. It stocks a spirit collection of about average size, yet is greatly improved by its slightly alternative choices: Sailor Jerry’s rather than just Captain Morgan’s, for example. Their signature drink, the University College Cocktail, is a sweet, refreshing and, most importantly, strong mix impressively designed to sport the Univ colours of blue and yellow. Liquid dispersion is always a nice touch. The prices were slightly more than average across the board, and the signature drink was actually over £4, which might prove quite a strain on Univ regulars, but for me was entirely tolerable in the context of the service and atmosphere offered up.

To point out the most pedantic and unimportant of flaws – as that’s all there are – the music was somewhat louder than the situation warranted, and my spirit mixer tasted ever so slightly metallic. Despite these small imperfections, Univ earned my upmost respect. I will be sneaking in again, and I recommend you all do the same. When you consider the central location, it makes it perfect for a rowdy predrinks. Other bars take note: this is how it’s done.

Unpacking the Bodleian libraries

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I really like books. I like collecting them and having them on my shelves. I think I probably like books themselves more than I like actually reading them. Which works fine, incidentally, if your preferred revision technique is osmosis.

Naturally, then, I was unashamedly, geekily excited to visit the newly opened Weston Library (I’ve already been twice). Its (free!) new exhibition displays an impressive selection of the Bodleian’s extensive collections, exploring the idea of ‘genius’ as it is recorded in physical works and manuscripts . It’s an absolute treasure trove of cultural landmarks, boasting a first edition of Dante’s Divina Commedia, hand-written drafts of Jane Austen’s novels, and a copy of the Magna Carta. 

There’s something pretty awe-inspiring about seeing first-hand such important manuscripts and miscellany which I don’t think you have to be a self-confessed bibliophile to appreciate. These are works of breathtaking craftsmanship: the decorative illustrations on a 15th Century Qur’an and William Morris’s Kelmscott Chaucer are paragons of finesse in manuscript and printing practices.

What’s more, there is a profound sense of the miraculous physicality of their presence. There, behind a pane of glass in the Weston, through some remarkable tenacity, are the tattered fragments of papyrus because of which we are still able to enjoy Sappho’s poetry today. Even some of the more eclectic inclusions become remarkable testimonies to the importance of archiving history – juxtaposed against Sappho’s fragments, there is something quietly profound about John Johnson’s collection of printed ephemera, which includes adverts, bus tickets and cigar bands. 

In their display cases, these works of genius are curiously divorced from their usual, functional value. Unable to read them, we’re encouraged to have a very different kind of interaction with these artefacts; an appreciation besides, but not divorced from, the importance of their content. We come to see them with the eyes of collectors, regarding and valuing them at what cultural critic Walter Benjamin would call “the stage of their fate.”

It may seem as though I, like Benjamin, am trying pretty hard here to justify my strange fetish for the printed word and lazy reading habits, but there is something undoubtedly magical about Marks of Genius. While we still await the outcome of the e-books revolution and continue to be surprised at how nice Kindles actually are, I would highly recommend a visit to the Weston Library in the near future.

Creaming Spires TT15 Week 1

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It is a truth moderately well acknowledged that drugs and sex make good
bedfellows. This is coming from my personal experience of dabbling in several
categories of mind-altering substances and I am here to tell you in my personal experience at least, the most remarkable drug and sex combo mega-deal is not ket or coke but plain old weed.

Yes, my friends, when it comes to sex, bud is your buddy. In the interest of full disclosure, I should say that weed is far from my drug of choice. In fact I sometimes experience crippling paranoia if I inhale more than one drag of
the stuff; what I like to call ‘sensory-hyperawareness’. I am certain that humans just aren’t meant to think so much. It leads to an influx of irrational, paranoid thoughts, ranging from wondering whether the way I’m holding my head looks weird to imagining crowds of people watching me whilst I pee (in the securely locked bathroom of a house). Another scary thing is the slowing down of time. I was convinced that I had been sitting on the toilet peeing for at least half an hour, only to discover that the cigarette my friend was holding for me was still lit upon my return.

The only, and I mean only, redeeming feature of this whole thing is having sex whilst stoned. These negative effects don’t always have to stay so negative. Stoned sex is a whole different ball game. My most recent experience of stoned sex happened a couple of months ago. I was in the living room of my then new-ish boyfriend’s house, a ‘phat doob’ was beginning to make its way around those assembled. This was back when the paranoia for me was more hit and miss. Before long, however, I began to feel the symptoms of paranoia and the intense self-consciousness and hyper-awareness set in. I became irrationally convinced that all my lovely boyfriend’s lovely friends hated
me and thought I was ridiculous.

After stewing there for about an hour (that was really probably only about ten minutes), I quietly suggested that we go to bed. After having negotiated the stairs (Am I walking too slowly? Will it look weird if I hold the bannister? Will they think I’ve forgotten how to walk properly, like I’m a giant toddler?!
Oh God what are they laughing about? They’re laughing at me aren’t they? I know they are!), we finally reached the sanctuary of his room.

Physical intimacy came as a welcome distraction from all the horrible thoughts. But it was more than merely that. I existed no longer just inside my own head, but in my fingertips, my thighs, my nipples. It turned out the hyper-awareness was not just a negative. It applied to my sense of touch as well and all of a sudden the paranoia dissipated and I was having really, really great sex. It was like the nerve-endings all over my skin had multiplied tenfold and were all tingling at once. And the elongation of time thing is really much more welcome when you happen to be having an orgasm.