Tuesday 8th July 2025
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Review: MTV’s Snack-Off

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TV is a difficult medium for food basically because it is food. Until SMELL-O-VISION or Lick-A-Vision become commonplace, there will always be an element of food TV that is impossible for the audience to experience.

This is probably why most focus on something other than the food – for Come Dine with Me it’s drunken arguments, for Hell’s Kitchen it’s the fact that Gordon Ramsay swears at his contestants, who meanwhile threaten to stab each other. My personal favourite shows are those which have an element of creativity, but also don’t take themselves too seriously, and my current favourite is MTV’s Snack-Off.

The show works around the limits of the medium by using comedy and silliness, and focusing on the ridiculous and incongruous aspects of the food. The contestants are amateur cooks in their 20s who make a snack out of other snack foods like chips, crackers, and peanut butter within a set amount of time.

The results are usually fairly gross-looking, and according to the Daily Mail one of the judges said she felt sick after eating  these foods all the time but there is also a kind of perverse delight in the gross-ness of things like bacon-crushed crackers and tuna melts. The prize is a thousand dollars and winning ‘The Golden Spork’ as well as a supposed mention in some as yet non-existent cookbook.

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Snack-Off is the brainchild of Rob Dyrdek who is best known for Ridiculousness which is basically just You’ve Been Framed but with bad anal sex jokes. Ridiculousness manages to be both crass and dull which makes Snack-Off a surprise success, but this may be because Dyrdek is not a host. The real strength of the show is the tone. The judges swear, take Instagram photos of their food, and generally mess around.

The judges have excellent camaraderie and it’s nice to see Eddie Huang finally host a TV show. He is the perfect host, managing to join in with the other hosts but not attempting to hog the limelight. The judges are a good mix of  funny (Yassir Lester and Chrissy Teigen) and serious ( Jason Quinn).  Essentially, I like Snack-Off because it’s everything GBBO isn’t. It’s laid-back, silly, and doesn’t take itself too seriously. It may be crass and have seemingly little ambition but it also doesn’t induce the same anxiety of GBBO‘s pastel purgatory.

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The judges.

 

Review: Medea

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When confronted with a production of this calibre – so absorbingly relevant, so in tune with our society’s downward-spiralling pattern of destruction – it can come as a shock to remember that Medea was written by a man, Euripides, in the 5th century BC, to be performed by men for an exclusively male audience. Out of what might well have been intended as a warning of the consequences of uncontrolled female passion, not an exploration of the suffering produced by gender inequalities, the National Theatre have created a harsh immediacy from the text, aided by Ben Powers’ innovative translation.

The chorus, making the most of their unique position as intermediate between characters and spectators, contribute with consonantly dark choreography. The way in which their rigidly awkward, puppet-like movements during Jason’s first dance with his new bride give way to the twitching and juddering of malfunctioning mechanical dolls seem to express something more than how the gods can be puppeteers of human action. It contrasts the expressionless, desireless objects that the women of the play are expected to be with the awful malfunction that occurs in Medea’s mind when the strain of this act becomes too much: a strain demonstrated as Medea, in an expertly judged performance by Helen McRory, must put on a mask of weakness, apologising for her womanly tearfulness while begging Creon, the father of Jason’s new wife, not to exile her and her children.

This is made all the more powerful by occasional glimmers of how she once was – in her vivacious humour, her formidable intelligence now put to a terrible use, in how other characters, those who knew her in the past, treat her with such love and concern. Capitalising on this tension in an intensely dramatic but rather overt example of extreme bipolarity, Medea’s monologue at one point becomes a spilt-personality conflict between a timidly uncertain self, appalled by what she is compelled to do, and a roaring, demonic ferocity that possesses her. This was a technique also put to slightly better use in Alex Kingston’s portrayal of Lady Macbeth last year.

Danny Sapani convinced as Jason, a character endlessly capable of turning the stomach as he switches allegiance with the ease of someone whose only concern is political advantage. “You are my proudest achievements”, he tells his sons as if they are just an addition to his collection of trophies, while utterly incapable of meaningfully interacting with them. Watching his calculated and powerful fury giving way to shaken, horrified impotence in the face of Medea’s crime creates an unsettling emotional mix of devastation and elation.

But her crime is no act of insanity. Hints of her psychological motivations remain almost understandable when they surface: her evident traumatisation by difficult childbirth was left unresolved, as must have been the case for so many women in a time of extremely limited knowledge of both medicine and of the mental stress which such experiences could exert. The focus on Jason and Medea’s failed marriage, arguing in a way that couples have clearly argued for millennia, also resonates as a reminder of how this is a story that is being retold endlessly. For its deeply relevant depiction of how experiences of betrayal can brutalise anyone, this is certainly not a performance to miss as its National Theatre Live Encore screenings are broadcast to cinemas this September.

Down it fresher!

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Prospect of the new term making you work up a sweat? Feeling thirsty after the long summer? Well you needn’t worry! Here’s your go-to guide for the best places in Oxford to grab a drink. Be it on the way to a morning lecture or a weekend catch-up with friends, whatever the time and whatever the taste, we’ve got it covered.

Best for… COFFEE LOVERS

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Branca

Wanting a coffee, but not just any old coffee? Branca’s the place to go for the swankiest coffee in Oxford. Expect a complimentary Italian biscotti and a glass of water, lemon and ice with every order.

The Missing Bean

This independently run espresso bar has built up a reputation for its freshly made Italian coffee. The laid-back atmosphere makes it perfect for a quick drop-in with friends.

Turl Street Kitchen

Coffee not your thing? Famous amongst Oxford students, Turl Street Kitchen offers an outstanding array of herbal teas with comfy sofas to match. From delicate green tea to exotic fruit infusions, the choice is endless.

 

Best for… JUICE AND MILKSHAKE LOVERS

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Queen’s Lane Coffee House

Don’t be deceived by the name – providing freshly pressed juices since 1654 and conveniently placed on the High Street, these juices are both refreshing and affordable.

Moo Moo’s Milkshakes

Always packed, you haven’t had a milkshake until you’ve gone to Moo Moo’s. Freshly made to order, these creamy, frothy milkshakes will hit the spot any day. Why not treat yourself and grab an ice-cream to match?

Shaken Stephen’s

Whether you fancy a super sweet milkshake or a super healthy fruit boost, come here for a drink that’ll please those taste-buds, and give you an instant pick-me up.

 

Best for…COCKTAIL LOVERS

Raoul’s Bar

Using homemade ingredients and more fruit “than any other bar in Oxford”, Raoul’s offers cocktails that are great value whatever the time. Feeling creative? Get in contact for a Cocktail Masterclass with the super-friendly bartenders.

The House

Fitted with a slick monochrome interior and cream leather seats – not to mention an outdoor private terrace – this is one of the classiest bars in Oxford to enjoy a drink.

Angels Cocktails

Angels tailor their cocktails to suit even the most specific taste, making them right before your eyes. Almost half the price during happy hour and offering a free serving of nuts with every order, there’s every reason to head here on a Friday night.

British athletes’ success bodes well

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August’s European Athletics Championships in Zurich was full of drama and there is a welcome air of optimism in the team GB camp after a highly successful championships.

Forty-year-old Jo Pavey hit headlines the world over for her scintillating performance on the first, winning gold in the 10,000m only eleven months after the birth of her second child. The Briton is the oldest ever female athlete to win a European title. It goes without saying that Pavey’s resolute run spurred on the rest of the British team (talk less of several middle-aged mums!) to hunt for greatness in their own events.

Mo Farah gunned for gold the next day in the men’s 10,000 and got his prize, as he is often does. This win had a different flavour to it, however, as only a few weeks before the Olympic champion had suffered a severe health scare, which included him collapsing and having to be airlifted to hospital. Behind Mo, compatriot Andy Vernon fought for silver. A few minutes after these medals had been won, 23-year-old Ashleigh Nelson got another medal for Team GB, this time a bronze – running 11.22 behind Dutchwoman Dafne Schippers who won in 11.12 seconds, and France’s Myriam Soumaré (11.16). More was to come. American-born Tiffany Porter won her first ever gold in the 100m hurdles, in a time of 12.76 secs. The medals just kept rolling in for the Union Jack team; a matter of minutes later James Dasaolu won 100m gold in a time of 10.06 seconds, with Harry Aikines-Aryeetey coming through to take bronze in 10.22, and France’s Christophe Lemaitre seizing the silver (10.13).

There was drama of a different nature on the same day when French steeplechaser Mahiedine Mekhissi-Benabbad had the nerve to take off his shirt some 100m before the finish line and motion furiously to the crowd to join in with his celebration – despite not having officially won the race yet. Ironically, despite blowing his own trumpet, the long-distance runner was disqualified – ostensibly for removing the number that identified him to officials. Mekhissi-Benabbad is already known for causing trouble – in 2011 he was involved in a fight with another Frenchman after a race, and the following year, after winning European gold, he pushed over the mascot as she reached out to congratulate him.

On 15th August, day four of the championships, Martyn Rooney finally won his first European gold medal after years of coming close. The new kid on the block, Matthew Hudson-Smith helped add to Team GB’s medal tally with an impressive second place. Christine Ohuorogu, who has a reputation of delivering at major championships, was this time unable to snag a medal, finishing in fourth place in the women’s 400m after a quiet season. Laura Weightman came through in the 1500m to get a brave bronze for Great Britain. Jodie Williams went one better later in the evening with a silver medal in the 200m, setting a new personal best (22.46) behind the phenomenal Dafne Schippers, who ran the fastest 200m by a European woman in 19 years – 22.03 – despite being a heptathlete. Jodie’s time was the fastest by a British woman since 1984. What’s more, in making the 200m final, Jodie, Bianca Williams and Dina Asher-Smith had become the first set of three women to line up for Britain in this event in over half a century. Bianca finished in fourth place, but unfortunately 18-year-old Asher-Smith was unable to finish, pulling a hamstring halfway through the race. Adam Gemili topped off a much awaited men’s 200m final, beating Christophe Lemaitre to the gold in a time of 19.98 seconds to get his first senior medal.

On the penultimate day of the competition, the Scottish lasses built on their successes in the Commonwealth Games a few weeks earlier. Eilidh Child upgraded her silver from Glasgow to a gold medal in Zurich. The last time a British woman managed such a feat was 20 years earlier, when Sally Gunnell became 400m hurdles champion. Lynsey Sharp also made history with her performance last Saturday, breaking Susan Scott’s Scottish record and smashing her own PB by 0.87 secs to run 1:58.80. Victory was arguably sweeter for Sharp – whose mother and father were international athletes in their own right, her father a competitor at the 1980 Olympic Games and her mother also an 800m runner at the Commonwealth Games – who two years earlier had been denied the opportunity to stand on top of the podium by a doping Russian athlete, and just a few weeks before had been in hospital on a drip. Jo Pavey, the heroic wonder-woman of the opening day, returned to action for the 5,000m final but this time it was seventh place.

The sixth and final day of the European Championships did not disappoint. There was more drama to unfold in the men’s 1500m, where Mekhissi-Benabbad stepped out onto the track again, after being stripped of his earlier gold medal. In a race fraught with bumps and falls, which resulted in Britain’s Charlie Grice taking two rather heavy tumbles, the Frenchman again finished ahead of everyone else, and yet again took the liberty of celebrating before crossing the line. This time, however, he refrained from removing his shirt and clutching it between his teeth for the final quarter of the last lap. His controversial behaviour earned him some boos and critics but this time the distance runner did manage to hold on to his medal. Chris O’Hare worked hard to get the British team another bronze medal.

Mo Farah became the most successful individual athlete in the history of the European Championships and the most decorated British athlete when he won his second gold in Zurich 2014 in the 5,000m. Compatriot Andy Vernon also got his second medal of the championships, this time a bronze. Greg Rutherford added another senior title to his collection with his 8.27m and 8.29m jumps in the long jump. The father-to-be now is now simultaneously Olympic, Commonwealth and European Champion. With the World Championships next year, it seems it won’t be long before the 27-year-old British record holder holds all four major titles.

Team GB medalled in each of the four relays that capped off the championships in Switzerland. The ladies’ 4x400m team made up of Eilidh Child, Shana Cox, Kelly Massey and Margaret Adeoye put in a determined performance to get the bronze in a very close finish: only a few hundredths-of-a-second separated the gutsy French runner, Ukrainian and Adeoye at the finish line. The men triumphed in their 4x400m final, an event in which we have proved medal-worthy at every  European Championships since 1978. This time it was a gold, brought home by the team of Conrad Williams, Matthew Hudson-Smith, Michael Bingham and Martyn Rooney.  

The remarkable successes of their fellow British athletes on the final day must have fired up the 4x100m teams. For a short while after the four-lap relay victory, James Ellington, Harry Aikines-Aryeetey, Richard Kilty and Adam Gemili ran a time of 37.93 seconds, to win a confident relay gold ahead of Germany and France. The women followed, not only managing to beat the French and Russian teams, but also managing to break a 34-year-old British record, lowering it to 42.24 seconds. Even more remarkably, eleven days later, (and again in Zurich) the British girls rounded down the record again – this time to 42.21.

It seems safe to say that we are in a new season of British athletics. Relays are being won confidently, rather than wrecked by terrible baton changes. Sprints are being won. Records are being broken. At this year’s European Athletics Championships, Britain topped the table, with 12 gold medals and 23 medals overall, more than Team GB has ever managed before.  It seems the legacy of London 2012 is still in the air…

Review: alt-J – This Is All Yours

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★★★★★

Five Stars

I remember where I was when I first heard alt-J’s debut album, An Awesome Wave, from beginning to end. It was on a routine journey home from London, and as the train passed through the ever-extending suburbs, I got a glimpse into the lighted windows of row upon row of tall terraced houses that back onto the track. The train flitted past a flick-book of anonymous lives, random people living their evening hours, unaware that their movements were captured by fast-moving passers-by, and the music: intense, intimate, fleeting, seemed to fit perfectly.

Alt-J’s fragmented lyrics possessed a kind of modest, commonplace focus, which, when held in impenetrable poetry and shrouded in their signature developing electric folk-rock riffs, imbued the normal with a slightly twisted sense of the surreal. Take the opening lines of ‘Fitzpleasure’ as an example – the song begins, “Tralala, in your snatch fits pleasure, broom-shaped pleasure, / Deep greedy and Googling every corner.” Just like the private worlds viewed from a fast moving train, recognisable images are conjured, but they’re held just out of reach of full comprehension.

Perhaps this was a formula that helped alt-J to create a hugely successful mercury award-winning first album: isolating and reshaping the familiar into something new and distinctive, distanced from its contemporaries. Even the band themselves adhered to this pattern of cloaking normality with artistry, the four camera-shy members obscured for the most part by the Δ symbol of their anti-brand. Whether such an achievement could be sustained in the midst of an industry that seems to have both an insatiable thirst for individuality and a tendency to drain it dry, it remained to be seen.

Two and a half years on and we have our answer. This Is All Yours, a thirteen track LP replete with the same unmistakable craftsmanship and intrigue has arrived, its integrity intact. A similar poetic ambiguity pervades lead-singer Joe Newman’s lyrics, but this time around, there’s a shift in focus from inside the windows to outside, as the songs take on a larger field of vision. The music videos for the singles already released are testament to this. Gone are the dimly-lit domestic scenes of that unforgettable Breezeblocks video, replaced by broad-sweeping landscapes in lead track ‘Hunger of the Pine’: 

From the distorted blurry vocals in the background of ‘Intro’ to the hypnotic harmonies at the peak of ‘The Gospel of John Hurt’, words and music are inseparable in the overall effect. That the lines “The idea of life without company fell suddenly / It crashed through the ceiling on me/ And pinned me to the pine’ are set almost disconcertingly to a single acoustic guitar, returning to the soft, gently bouncing chorus line “Are you a pusher or are you a puller?” only makes track 11, ‘Pusher’ darker for the tense contrast.

Other highpoints include ‘Every Other Freckle’ with its dense, rhythmic layers that rise and fall with unfailing energy, and ‘Choice Kingdom’, a compelling requiem that subverts ‘Rule Brittania’ into an echo of something long lost.

And then, of course, there’s ‘Bloodflood pt.II’, the penultimate track on the album and a sequel to the song of the same name on An Awesome Wave. Not only does it allow for the enjoyable task of spotting consistencies – musical and lyrical threads of continuity between two very differently directed albums – it is also a really powerful song in its own right.

Whilst in this track lyrics from ‘Fitzpleasure’ and ‘Bloodflood’ are taken verbatim and reframed in a new simpler and more controlled style, one element in particular on This Is All Yours marks a noticeable shift away from ongoing narrative of An Awesome Wave. And no, it’s not the unexpected appearance of Miley Cyrus in the wings of ‘Hunger of the Pine’…

The other pre-released single, ‘Left Hand Free’, is clearly the anomaly of the album. Although not a bad song, per se, it feels uncomfortably empty in comparison to the other tracks. The reason behind its incongruous inclusion, as a Guardian interview reveals, is that the band were urged by their American label to produce something more accessible that could be marketed at a ‘hit’. If nothing else, it demonstrates the bands versatility in being able to churn out an undeniably catchy tune on demand.

Moreover, the fact that evidence of the commercial pressures and influences of the industry is confined to one song out of thirteen, is proof of alt-J’s resilience to the temptations and pitfalls of early success. They have conquered the notorious challenge of following a well-received debut with an equally accomplished second album, one that tries neither to tread the exact same path nor to experiment too far or reinvent too drastically.

If we are to compare the two, as everyone inevitably will, This Is All Yours feels lighter than its predecessor, the songs less saturated and insistent. As the title would imply, they passively offer themselves to the listener; their tightly interwoven melodies trickling with an ease that could unfairly be mistaken for complacency or weakness. On the contrary, however, this is an album in which less can most definitely be said to be much, much more.

‘A third of young women have been groped,’ finds NUS study

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According to National Union of Students (NUS) data 37% of women and 12% of men say they have faced unwelcome sexual advances, in the form of inappropriate groping and touching.

NUS asked over 2,000 male and female students about the issue. The study also looked into ‘lad culture,’ which it defined as “behaviours and attitudes that … belittle, dismiss, joke about or even seem to condone rape and sexual assault.” Two thirds of the respondents were found to have witnessed jokes about rape and sexual assault.

NUS president Toni Pearce stated, “These stats show that harassment is rife on campus, but we still keep hearing from universities that there is no fear, no intimidation, no problem – well this new research says otherwise.”

Meanwhile Laura Bates, of the Everyday Sexism campaign, commented, “Students are experiencing sexism, sexual harassment and assault within the university environment. It is worth mentioning that one category of such experiences ‘inappropriate touching and groping’ actually constitutes sexual assault under UK law. Though many students would not label it as such, this normalisation and lack of awareness is a major part of the problem.”

A lack of awareness of the issue is further highlighted by the fact that 60% of students said they were unaware of any codes of conduct at their university or student union, indicating a lack of knowledge about reporting procedures.

The NUS survey comes only a week after a different study showed that a quarter of young women on a drunken night out had experienced sexual abuse or inappropriate comments. The research was conducted by the charity Drinkaware and had 700 respondents.

When asked about the extent of sexual harassment at Oxford, OUSU Vice President for Women Anna Bradshaw told Cherwell, “While we do not have any Oxford-specific research, anecdotal evidence collected by OUSU’s It Happens Here campaign suggests that many Oxford students have experiences that absolutely reflect these findings.”

Referring to a project planned for this academic year, she added, “The OUSU Sexual Consent Workshops will be compulsory in a third of all common rooms, including over half of JCRs.  These workshops will provide a safe space in which to start community-wide conversations about sexual consent, moving Oxford University towards a culture of enthusiastic and informed consent.”

Review: A Most Wanted Man

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★★★★☆

Four Stars

When someone in Hollywood dies young, it can be tempting to write a paean of love to them simply because of their early death. Whether they were quite as incredible as people claim to remember, or have perhaps had some of their less saintly qualities buried under tributes and commiserations, the fact remains that often, such praise can be unjustified. For Philip Seymour Hoffman, posthumous star of A Most Wanted Man, this is decidedly not the case.

The film follows an illegal Chechen immigrant, Issa, who arrives in a post-9/11 Hamburg that is determined not to allow the same mistakes to reoccur that saw the architects of that attack live and plot unhindered in the city. As Issa sets red lights flashing all over the CIA and German police’s watch lists, the young human rights lawyer who takes on Issa’s case (Rachel McAdams) has no choice but to rely on a banker (Willem Dafoe) entrusted with Issa’s father’s ill-gotten Cold War millions and an aging, disgraced German intelligence agent, Günther.

Which brings us back to Hoffman. Hugely prolific, the actor tended towards characters who were generally insecure, closeted, perverted, alcoholic, cynical or, on occasion, evil. Boogie Nights, Magnolia, MI3, Happiness, Almost Famous all are perfect examples. Drawn to outcasts and misanthropes, Hoffman was not a cool actor, not a superstar. In this sense, he was perfect for the role of Günther. A tubby, wry, shabby-looking European, gruff but not humourless, Günther shares numerous scenes with his CIA counterpart, Martha, who is ice-cold and composed, perfectly groomed and masterfully flattering. The two could not be more dissimilar. Hoffman brings the character to life as a man with frustrations, with friendships and working relationships, and with a worldview that is neither as cynical as the American’s nor as idealistic as the lawyer’s. He is a heavy-drinking realpolitik guy, moral but also menacing when needed, in charge without appearing to be so. Hoffman’s Günther is the glue that brings all the other characters together in a film that is essentially half character study, half geopolitical statement. It would not be hyperbolic to say that elements of the way he moves and breathes in this film echo the later acting of Marlon Brando.

As for the film itself, the obvious comparison to be made is with 2011’s brilliant Le Carré adaptation Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. A Most Wanted Man is far less complicated to follow, and whilst Tinker Tailor was a showcase for British acting talent, this is a more international affair.  The change of setting from Cold War to War on Terror is one that gives the film its edge, allowing it, ultimately, to criticise the heavy-handed tactics used by the USA and to highlight the human rights abuses of extraordinary rendition and imprisonment without trial. Morality is here measured in delightfully subtle shades of grey. In addition to this, we still get all the traditional spy movie tropes: entrapment, blackmail, meetings in seedy bars and informants.

Sometimes, it seems as though the realism of the espionage can detract from the film’s entertainment value. Le Carré was a spy in Hamburg in the 60s, and one has to take his word on what spying is really like (it must be boring; after all, when was the last time you saw a gunfight in the street between men in suits using futuristic gadgets and driving Aston Martins?) but through the film’s two-hour runtime there are perhaps two scenes in which a character moves at more than a steady walk, nor is a single gunshot fired in the whole movie. That said, those who have read the book will remember the sensational final sequence, which will justify every second of the rest of the film to those with any doubts left.

A quiet, slow-burning and thought-provoking film, A Most Wanted Man represents the final bow of one of the finest actors of his generation, and that alone would be justification enough for existence and success. As it happens, it is also a telling commentary on the global conflict of the 21st century, the impact on those caught up in it, and the sacrifices made in the name of the greater good. Every now and then a film is made that makes you feel guilty if you don’t sit and think for a few minutes as the credits roll; A Most Wanted Man is one of those films.

Debate: Should Scotland go it alone?

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YES

Rory Irwin

On 18th September the people of Scotland will be granted the opportunity to end the 300-year-old union with the rest of the United Kingdom and declare themselves members of an independent state. A Yes vote would entail full sovereignty in the form of a Scottish parliament based in Edinburgh, and I would urge all readers to contemplate the exciting possibilities such a scenario gives us.

As a patriotic Scot, I am deeply saddened by the restrictions that have been imposed on us by successive Westminster governments. Scotland has a host of natural resources and financial, cultural and educational institutions, all of which would allow it to compete on the international stage. Furthermore, an independent Scotland could oversee far more progressive social policies than it does as part of the union, with political decisions being taken by parties actually chosen by the Scottish people, rather than being overruled by Westminster. Lastly, I wish to refute certain claims made by the ‘Better Together’ campaign over ownership of the pound, and assure you that Scotland will retain rightful ownership of its currency.

Despite the economic scaremongering of the No campaign, with complete control over our oil and gas revenues, Scotland would actually have the potential to become a more prosperous nation. In the event of a Yes-vote, official government figures indicate that the GDP per Capita of Scotland would rise from 99% to 120% of the UK’s, what with the additional North Sea Oil output.

While the economics of independence are of fundamental pragmatic importance, we must also take into account the less tangible issue of the participation and happiness of the people in a democracy.  The Conservative party currently leads the elected government in the UK, despite the majority of Scots voting for the opposition. There is a clear divide between the political views of those north and south of the border, and so the political union between Scotland and the rest of the UK does not allow for the views of the Scottish people to be adequately represented. A vote for independence is therefore a vote not only for a better economic future, but also for the principle that the people should be governed by those for whom they actually vote.

An independent Scotland would be able to reverse the vicious assault on the welfare state implemented by the Tory government. We would be free to reverse the ‘bedroom tax’, raise the minimum wage, and maintain universal free education for everyone. An independent Scotland as such would be committed to creating a fairer society.

“How would this all be paid for?”, ask cynical unionists. One popular suggestion is diverting funds from the UK’s current Trident program, £163 million of which is currently paid for by Scotland.

The most common, and perhaps the most convincing, argument made by the No campaign is that Scotland would be unable to keep the pound. A currency union is by far the most sensible decision for both the Westminster government and the Scottish parliament, despite the fact that many leading figures (including the governor of the BoE) are adamant that such a union would be impossible.  A currency union would benefit both countries as not only would Scotland retain the BoE as a lender of last resort, but the rest of the UK would benefit from the added income from Scotland’s oil and gas market. One only needs to look across to our European neighbours, Belgium and Luxembourg, to witness such a union working successfully. I predict that in the event of a Yes vote, the Westminster scare-mongering will cease and real negotiations will begin.

In conclusion, it is undeniable the upcoming result will be sure to change the relationship between Scotland and the rest of the UK, even in the event of a No vote.  However, I am confident that Scotland will make the right decision and vote for independence, economic prosperity and social justice; we will finally be free from foreign rule.

 

NO

Michael Low

The nationalist rhetoric these days is one of social justice. Scots are told that independence will make our nation fairer, and our society more just. Alex Salmond claims that Scotland needs independence to protect the existence of our NHS. Nicola Sturgeon even asserts that independence will end child poverty. Yet this does not square with the fact that much of the government apparatus dealing with these issues, such as Scotland’s health service, is already devolved. Ironically, the only redistributive policy proposed in the White Paper is to give rich corporations a tax cut.

What is more, separation from the UK would hurt us economically. Scots’ pounds, pensions and public services would suffer. In light of the clear message from the rest of Britain that a currency union would be in nobody’s best interest, it seems likely that if Scotland were to retain the pound, it would do so from a much weaker position – the dangers of which Paul Krugman has recently highlighted. If we were to break away from a pension system paid for by 60 million people, our increasingly ageing population would have to bridge a huge funding gap. If we incur the extra £6 billion of cuts, which the Institute for Fiscal Studies have told us would have to come over and above any austerity when we leave the UK, then there is no doubt Scotland’s public services would suffer, thereby hurting the most vulnerable areas of our society. Families, pensioners and the unemployed stand to lose a lot if we buy into a false vision, based on unfunded promises, given by nationalists whose first priority has always been leaving Great Britain, regardless of the cost.

And that cost would not be insubstantial. It would hit the 600,000 people whose jobs depend on the UK. It would cost us international influence in the world. It would cost us a home market of 63 million people, who give our economy the strength to back up any part of the country in a crisis. These are costs that Scotland simply doesn’t have to take on.

A No vote is one for the best of both worlds, and it is not a vote against change. The Scottish Parliament is due to receive even more decision-making powers after the referendum, whilst Scotland can continue to benefit from the strengths and securities of the UK. It is easier to build social justice with a bigger economy, and it is better to build it for more people.

Perhaps the best thing we have ever built together, as four nations, is our NHS. The health service has, in fact, become one of the central issues of the debate on independence. The SNP have started to spread scaremongering stories of how we would be forced to privatise the NHS in the case of a No vote. This is simply untrue; the only people who could privatise our health service are the Scottish Government, because they are the ones who have full control over it. Indeed, in reality the NHS in Scotland is far more likely to be damaged by the economic risks of separation. This is shown by the reaction of the markets to the recent poll suggesting Yes had a slight lead, with the pound hitting a 10-month low against the dollar and huge Scottish firms falling in value with it. The damage this economic uncertainty would do to public services is one of the prime reasons why I voted no to the nationalists’ separatism.

You will hear from some Yes campaigners that they aren’t nationalists, and they may not be the kind of patriotic, flag-waving nationalist that Alex Salmond is; but their politics are just as narrow. If you have to qualify every statement of the principles you believe in with “in Scotland”, you’ve become a nationalist. The 300-year-old project that is our union has not been perfect, but the problems facing the people of Cardiff, Liverpool and Belfast aren’t so different from those we see in Glasgow, at least not to the extent that we ought to walk away. If Scotland votes yes, it will not only fail to make life better for those of us living here, it will be a statement that we are turning our back on our neighbours.

Just last week, every single Scottish Labour MP showed up in Westminster to vote through a bill that was the first step to the abolition of the bedroom tax. It illustrated their priorities; improving life for those hit by an unfair policy across the UK. It demonstrated their politics are driven by a commitment to social justice.

On the other hand, just two SNP MPs put aside their attempts to break up Britain long enough to vote for the bill, showing their priorities just as clearly. The nationalist rhetoric these days is one of social justice. It is one I do not buy.

My hair-raising challenge

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June. 2014. I’m standing, shaking, in front of St Anne’s JCR about to face my election hust. What will it be? A baked bean shower? A dance off? When my predecessor tells me all I have to do is promise to do a sponsored activity, I breathe a sigh of relief. But then I realise, I can’t skip out on this. This is my opportunity to show my true dedication to fundraising. So what do I do? I pledge to shave off my waist length hair. Much harder than a dance off, I think you’ll agree…

My hair-raising – forgive the pun – challenge will fundraise for two charities: IIH UK and Cancer Research UK. IIH UK supports sufferers of Idiopathic Intracranial Hypertension by providing information and support groups. IIH sufferers have higher pressure around the brain but not from a tumour or diseases. In fact, IIH has no known cause and is often a chronic problem. This is certainly the case for my close friend Jen Higgs who has just undergone her 18th operation trying to manage the symptoms of IIH. It doesn’t just have physical effects, but emotional ones too. Indeed, the condition can result in dramatic changes to your work and social life so one third of my fundraising target will go towards helping families cope with IIH.

The other two thirds of my fundraising target will be going to Cancer Research UK. We’re all familiar with this charity and their work but it’s important to establish why I chose to support a research charity as opposed to one devoted to care. First of all, IIH is largely a care charity and I feel that a balance between the two is necessary. Secondly, care could not have saved my granddad’s life. He was first diagnosed with cancer 2 years back and managed to make a swift and strong recovery. But then it came back. And this time, we weren’t so lucky. He passed away in April this year. I am cutting my hair off to only an inch of its former length in honour of his memory.

Many people have asked me, “Why not just run a marathon or something?” My answer to this is always complicated. I say, “I have these muscles problems; after I do exercise the….” And by this time they’re asleep. The fact is: I can’t run a marathon. My muscles won’t let me. For days after any bout of strenuous exercise I suffer from excruciating muscle cramps. The kind that stop you walking. The doctors don’t know why, they think it’s genetic and that’s about all the information I have on it. 

Another question I get asked is, “Are you scared?” Of course I am! I’m terrified; the funny looks, the freezing cold… it all gives me butterflies. I’m going to do it anyway though. Why? Because I know it will be worth it for the lives we can change. My target is to raise a total of £1,500 and once I’ve hit this target then my whole head of hair will be shaved off. It’s a big target but I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think the aim was achievable! 

To donate to Sairah’s causes follow these links: To support IIH click here and to support Cancer Research UK click here

 

Prisoner in the Caucasus: Turkey, Georgia and Armenia

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Among the classics which make up the majority of the Russian Prelims set list is a surprising text: a little-known work by Lermontov, called Mtsyri. This poem, an archetype of Romanticism, tells the story of a young orphan who is brought up in a Georgian monastery in preparation for becoming a monk. Isolated and unhappy, he runs away in a bid to be reunited with his long-lost homeland. During his three-day adventure in the wilds of the Caucasus he battles a snow leopard, falls in love with a Georgian maiden and deliriously hears a fish sing until he is defeated by nature and dies a premature death.

After writing an inordinate number of essays about this unfortunate chap, my two tutorial partners and I sat in the King’s Arms chatting about how funny it would be if we were to recreate his adventure at the Georgian monastery, which inspired Lermontov’s fictionalised version. Suddenly we paused: why not…? A few weeks later we booked our tickets and a few months later we boarded our first flight at the ungodly hour of 3.30 a.m. Our journey was to be slightly more far-reaching than that of our monastic counterpart, encompassing Turkey, Georgia and Armenia.

The first leg of our trip was in the bustling Turkish metropolis. It is impossible not to use clichés when describing Istanbul, which truly is a hybrid of East and West, Europe and Asia, Old and New. We fulfilled our touristic duties by going to all the major sites, a highlight of which was the Hagia Sophia. Originally built as a Byzantine church, it was later converted into a mosque, and in its current form retains the best aspects of both the Islamic and Christian traditions: inside the sprawling structure of domes and minarets lie gilded icons and a magnificent altar. Another highlight was the Basilica Cistern, a Roman-built underground water system not dissimilar to the Chamber of Secrets in the second Harry Potter film. Its atmospheric vibe is slightly ruined by the massage-parlour music though.

Just an enjoyable as seeing the sights was perusing the old bookshops in BeyoÄŸlu, sipping chai in rooftop cafés or crossing the Bosphorus to the Asian side of the city and playing backgammon, no doubt at one hundredth of the speed of the locals, for whom it is not just a game, but a serious hobby. Apart from our endless glasses of sugared tea, during our stay we lived off a diet of chicken kebabs costing the disconcertingly low sum of 3 lira (about 85p) and menemen, a breakfast dish made from scrambled eggs, tomatoes and green peppers, which despite looking a bit like vomit, tastes delicious.

Inevitably for a big city there are some things that are worth avoiding; The first being the Galata Tower. For the price of 12 lira (or four kebabs) you, and what seems like half the population of Spain, get to climb a claustrophobia-inducing tower to see the same view that you could get from any of Istanbul’s many rooftops. Then there’s pomegranate juice. The deceptively appealing magenta colour of this juice conceals an acidity, which will burn your insides for hours. The final pitfall to point out is perhaps the obvious – scams. Rip-off cab rides and Grand Bazaar carpet mark-ups were designed for the less savvy tourists of the past. The new scams are far sneakier. As we walked back to our hostel one evening a shoe polisher dropped one of his brushes right in front of us. My friend picked it up and handed it to him. Out of gratitude the shoe polisher offered to scrub his shoes (and bizarrely, my pink flip flops) for free. When my friend’s shoes were squeaky clean, we realised this was not a free service at all and the shoe polisher wouldn’t let us leave without milking us for all our change. When we walked into our hostel we noticed a big poster warning about scams in Istanbul, headed by ‘The Shoe Polisher’, which described in exact detail what had just happened to us.

After a magical few days in Istanbul, we boarded our night flight – you may be sensing a theme – to Tbilisi. Our hostel in Tbilisi, painted in light blue and filled with antiques, was like something out of a Russian fairy tale. The city itself is also charming: a mixture of beautiful crumbling houses and new-age urban design features, like the Peace Bridge, which (in)famously resembles a sanitary towel. The Nariqala Fortress provides a lovely view over the city, but getting up to and down from it is such a health and safety catastrophe that the view is likely to be the last thing you ever see.

A major feature of our time in Georgia was khachapuri, a traditional cheese-filled bread. Itis so integral to everyday life that the cost of making it is used as a measure of inflation in different Georgian cities. Even though a couple of us had slightly delicate stomachs after drinking the Georgian tap water, this doughy cheesy goodness made an appearance in just about every meal.

Perhaps Georgia’s most endearing quality though, better even than the cheese bread, was the hospitality. As we wandered through the Old City one day, admiring the hanging ivy and laced wooden balconies, a little voice came out of a courtyard, ushering us in. When we did so we found a family sitting around a table. They asked us everything about ourselves and loaded us up with a life supply of fruit and nuts. 

That night we took the night train to Armenia’s capital, Yerevan. As soon as we boarded we realised that a group of French girls were booked into exactly the same seats as us. This did not seem to bother the train staff who, clearly taking bribes from most of the passengers, spent half the night reshuffling us. Finally, though, we got the four-person compartment, roughly the size of a kitchen table, to ourselves. Yerevan is an uninspiring city with a very Soviet feel. Most Armenians don’t actually like Armenia and this dissatisfaction is palpable and accounts for the enormous Armenian diaspora, approximately double the size of Armenia’s population. Most people there don’t make enough money to live on, so have to rely on the salaries of their relatives working abroad. The tourism, too, is minimal: the three of us made up 10% of the 30 British tourists who go to Armenia, annually. 

Nevertheless, it is a beautiful country and the first one to adopt Christianity, which means it is home to oldest church in the world. We took a day trip to the monastery of Gerhard, named after the spear, which wounded Jesus during the Crucifixion and which was brought to this monastery by the Apostle Jude. Carved into the cliff it is essentially a cave-church, nestled in the mountains, which are both arid and verdant.  It is decorated with minute ornamental carvings and writings in the inherently calligraphic Armenian script. Perhaps one of the most spiritual places I have ever been.

After Armenia, we had one final day in Georgia before we flew home. We used it to make a day trip out of Tbilisi to the monastery on which Lermontov’s poem was based – the culmination of our journey. On the way we stopped at Gory, Stalin’s birth town, where we saw his museum, his first home and his train wagon, all of which were nostalgically memorialised as though they were relics of a saint. Finally, we drove up to Jvari Monastery just as the sun was setting. Its style is simple and austere; it is understandable that a young man could feel isolated in such a setting. At one point in his poem Lermontov uses a vivid simile to compare the captive monk to a snake. As we walked up the hill, we caught sight of an enormous pale snake slithering through the grass about a meter away from us. Needless to say I legged it pretty swiftly up the hill after this rather appropriate end to our literary pilgrimage!