Monday 6th April 2026
Blog Page 1321

We should stop describing acts as being extremist

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Following the attacks on Paris, the word ‘extremism’ has been in the news a lot recently. However, when discussing if ‘extremism’ is ever justifiable, it is apparent that this term has come to be used almost universally as a criticism of actions with which the writer disagrees. As a result, in using the word ‘extremism’, nothing is said about the act itself; all that is shown is the speaker/writer disagreeing with the act.

The first problem with trying to justify ‘extremism’ is that it is a subjective description, with different meanings for each person. Extremism can change for people over time. This can be seen in Conservative Party members’ reactions to Nelson Mandela; in 1985, a small youth group went as far as to publish posters calling for his hanging. Upon his death, however, Mandela was lauded by leading Conservatives as a hero and freedom fighter rather than an extremist. It seems that when we ‘justify extremism’, we are only justifying our version of it.

The change in perception of Mandela demonstrates another part of the problem; inherent in the description ‘extremist’ is a criticism. The difficulty is that in describing an act as ‘extremist’, what is being suggested is that that act was out of proportion to what it was reacting against. But if a tank is advancing towards your family home with the intention of destroying it, trying to stop it by violent means is not extremist, despite being an extreme act. Implicit in using the term is a judgement that we feel some acts are not reasonable in relation to what they are reacting against.
Using ‘extreme’ instead of ‘extremism’ describes only comparisons with alternative acts and says nothing about what they are in response to. It involves no predispositions. And so, a more useful question is: will any of the extreme acts in 2015 be justified?

Justification of extreme acts depends on the answers to three questions: what are they fighting for, what is it in response to, and what alternatives are there? Violent action towards another individual is generally seen as justifiable when in response to violence, when what causes someone to act in this way is the desire to stop oppression, and when it is reasonable to think that there is no viable alternative way of achieving this end. Committing an act of violence then is most likely to be justifiable if it aims to secure freedom from oppression. Without an aim, all justification is lost.

Whether violent acts can ever be justified turns on whether there are any acts, committed out of desire for freedom, which are committed both in response to violent suppression and where there seems little viable alternative. History is rife with examples of undeniable and obvious violent suppression by states. Around every recent Zimbabwean election, before the Syrian Civil War started, and in many pre-2011 Northern African countries, the states in question were involved in the deaths of hundreds of dissenting citizens.

An alternative to extreme acts is to pursue change via legal methods. Yet, even if this does work, it often proceeds at a very slow pace. The legal fights against slavery, against colonial rule and for women’s franchise each spanned a century.

While social media enables dissidents to coordinate and mobilise faster today, such avenues themselves will not cause oppressive leaders to fall.

It is easy for us to call on the oppressed to take non-violent routes, being largely free already. However, if legal routes can take longer than a lifetime, are the oppressed not justified in using violence to secure what they rightfully should have?

In 2015 there are still many cases where people are oppressed and have no ability to dissent legally and peacefully. In Mauritania, for example, ten per cent of the population are estimated to be slaves. For people across the world, where no clear alternative exists, extreme acts may not turn out to be the most successful, but they can certainly be justified.

Creaming Spires HT15 Week 1

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So, dry spells. Hell on earth. The ultimate enemy. A deathly desert. The feeling when you’re so frustrated that your head is swimming with clichés to illustrate your pain. I’m sure you’ve been there before, but you don’t have a forum to yell it out at strangers, so just shut up and listen to my ramblings. If you’re at all sane you probably don’t want to yell it at strangers anyway, but that’s beside the point.

Far from being the island of debauchery that I usually carefully cultivate, my life has recently taken a ghastly turn. There are no dirty little games and sexy nights anywhere, and I wail in a corner, alone. The reason? Bloody coursework. You don’t need a crazy student to tell you stress and sex don’t work together. After a day of hard work, it could be a perfect release, but if that day of hard work is followed by another and then another and the deadline’s coming and you haven’t started planning how many all-nighters you can do without dying, then sex is usually the last thing on your mind. People tell me that’s normal.

In our little bubble of spires, most of us have experienced the crushing feeling of utter panic and accompanying loss of libido. Well, it’s a first for me, and I don’t like it. And I started liking it even less when I tried to do something about it, and failed completely. Having finally managed to arrange an evening off furious typing, I was hopeful to get a little boost from a handsome male.

Since I had a suitable one available, arrangements were not a problem. He wasn’t a problem either; knowing me and my body well, he is skilled at making me happy. Despite all that, I just couldn’t get into it. It was impossible to relax with snippets of my essay flashing before my eyes. In the end, after reassuring my poor friend that no, he hadn’t done anything wrong, I returned to my cold bed with a strong sense of failure and disappointment. If I’m not good at my subject AND at sex, what am I good at? If I can’t control my body and its pleasure, what can I control? An identity crisis entered full bloom. I don’t think my coursework benefited from its creator’s frustration…

Of course, there is the obvious masturbation, but I’m a social beast. I can’t do it alone all the time. There are only so many ways to satisfy oneself, and sometimes all I want is a sexy someone to bite my neck. They havn’t invented a toy for that yet.

Humans need sleep, food, and sex. I’ve been having only one of them in satisfactory quantity (thank the Universe for lemon and coriander houmous), and this is the terrifying result. If you see a wild-eyed girl wandering the streets and ogling you, don’t be mean. Ask me out. It’ll be fun.

Maybe.

A tragic architectural regeneration

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After two years of studying French and Spanish, the time had come to start planning my year abroad. I applied to teach English for the British Council in the Academy of Rouen and eventually learnt that I’d successfully made it onto the programme and had been posted to Le Havre.

However, following my initial relief that I was moving to a respectably sized town and not a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, heard conflicting accounts of the place. As it is one of the country’s biggest ferry ports, many people I know have driven through the town and described it as being uniformly grey and grim. A lot of my French friends said the same thing, which was more worrying.

Yet at the same time, tourist guides assured me that the city was in fact a UNESCO World Heritage Site. When I looked online, I started to wonder if UNESCO ever awarded heritage status out of pity; I spent about 20 minutes trying to adjust the contrast on my computer screen before finally accepting that the city was actually that grey.

Le Havre isn’t particularly exotic or far-flung, with the nearest big city after Rouen being Portsmouth, but this did mean I was was able to take a ferry directly into the town. The distance is not too far, but the night crossing isdeliberately slowed to eight hours so passengers can arrive well-rested and refreshed at eight in the morning French time.

Sleepless and tired, I watched the town appear before me and realised that UNESCO was right after all. It was true that, as far as the eye could see, the buildings were all square, sombre, and made of concrete; but somehow, instead of looking bleak, they caught the morning sun and gave off a strange golden glow.

I could see why some people would write it off as an eyesore, especially in poor weather, but in the late September light it had an austere charm. What I was looking at was the downtown ‘Perret’ quarter, named after the architect Auguste Perret who rebuilt this city in his own unique style after it was substantially bombed in the Second World War.

I had read that this had happened, but it was not until a few days after my arrival that I learnt it was the British who bombed Le Havre, something for which many older generations in Le Havre still resent us for.

I discovered this British impact on Le Havre when I was told the history of the town by Marcel, a teacher from the school where I would be working. He told me the town fell to German forces early in the war and, although the Nazis had a presence here, it was in no way significant enough to justify the extent of the Allies’ bombing campaign.

According to him, the destruction was financially motivated. Although the French were allies of the British in the war, France was one of our main economic rivals during peacetime and, as Le Havre was one of their busiest and most lucrative ports, the British bombed it heavily. The destruction was so extensive that from the train station, you could see all the way to the beach two kilometres away.

Marcel also told me that the new city was built directly onto the rubble, two metres higher than the old one. We lapsed into silence. I didn’t know whether I should apologise or not. It seemed like the British thing to do, so I did.

Bexistentialism HT15 Week 1

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Oxford time, as I/you/he/she/you/it has said before, ticks to a curious time. But if you ever want a recalibration into the logistics of time, all you need to do is sit through a collection.Blatantly named for their purpose for you to collect together all thoughts on your own inadequacy, there isn’t a minute which is not felt.

But I’m not going to write about that. Nor the fact that I have a permanent-ink-cartridge-fountain-pen which means I am forced, by being pretentious enough to use a fountain pen, to bring a pot of ink to exams in case it needs refilling.

I’m not even going to discuss those who smugly flex their fingers as they gaze at their work, the words “gosh aren’t I just awfully clever” leaking from their mind like the socially incoherent fuckers that they are (not.bitter).

With my collection taking place on Saturday morning, the rest of the day is fated. And thus it is unsurprising that I wake up the next day with the remnants of costume and face paint, and struggle out of my room to the torturous reminder that daylight is a thing.

I wade through existence into the shower, and exhale as the hot water (turned only half on, a weak student shower being too much for my frail body) trickles onto my cowering skin. And it is as I sigh, of course, that I remember. Last night I lost my keys.

As I like to believe I’m not the only useless person in Oxford, I assume that you, fair reader, may understand that familiar thud in the stomach. By the time I find myself, hours later, searching the field by the Sports Pavillion for my keys, the thud has become a steady metronome.

My stomach is thudding unnecessarily out of time with my thumping head. It seems the skies have swallowed them up. Quickly, what was meant to be a free and simple Bop, turns into an £80 extravaganza. Yes. Replacement keys cost £7.50 more than a passport(on which I was forced to splurge days before).

I may start to claim that these columns are myriads of fibbery. It’sthe only way I’ll be recovering any pride. Fittingly, an image returns to my head. One leg either side of the Catz fence, I make eye contact with people in a ground floor bedroom. Their sober faces, even through my inebriated mist, are clearly etched with disbelief at Stupid Girl On Fence. Oh strangers, if only you knew how right you were.

Oxford University to pay Living Wage

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Oxford University has confirmed that it is going to become an accredited Living Wage employer in April 2015. Oriel and Wadham have also announced that they will be following Hertford in becoming accredited. 

Stephen Goss, Pro-Vice-Chancellor (Personnel and Equality) commented, “I am very pleased that the University is taking this step. It guarantees the Living Wage to all our employees and will ensure that, as we revise or set up new agreements, the staff of contractors who work regularly on our premises also receive the Living Wage.

“Today’s announcement represents the culmination of several years of constructive working with students who, with the support of OUSU, have been campaigning for this important change.”

Ruth Meredith, VP (Charities & Community) was exultant at the news. She said, “OUSU’s Living Wage campaign has been campaigning since 2011 for Oxford University to become an accredited Living Wage employer.

 “Today, we have finally won. The decision will improve the lives of people across Oxford. By accrediting, Oxford University is making an unequivocal statement that poverty wages are unacceptable, and have no place in our community. They are listening to the voices of the people who work with and for them, and taking it seriously. 

“Along with Hertford, Wadham and Oriel have shown that sustained student and staff engagement and activism yields results.

“I believe that this is the last answer to those who say that “it can’t be done”, or that “it’s not for Oxford”. Hertford have shown that colleges can accredit, and now the University has proved that the Living Wage is for Oxford. I look forward to more colleges taking the same step this year.”   

Fergal O’Dwyer, Oxford Living Wage Campaign Co-Chair said, “This is the most significant event in the campaign’s history. Getting the University to accredit has always been our most salient aim, and I’m proud of the work that the campaign has done toward achieving this.” 

However with only 3 out of 44 colleges and PPHs accredited Living Wage employers the campaign still has work to do. As Sam Couldrick, Dwyer’s fellow Co-Chair, commented, “While this is a great victory which ought to be celebrated, there is still more to fight for. Some colleges still refuse even to pay the Living Wage. I hope that this announcement encourages all colleges to think seriously about the respect and security they give to their staff. The announcement gives us a huge momentum boost that can hopefully be translated into wider spread, long-lasting change. For the first time in the campaign’s history, the tide is with us.”

The news comes shortly after Cherwell‘s investigation into the treatment of college staff.

The Cherwell guide to watching sports in Hilary Term

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Are you looking for a better method of procrastinating? We have created a simple summary of the upcoming major sporting events over the course of the term, to help you while away your time, isolated from essays and problem sheets.

The American Football Season will come to an exciting close with Super Bowl XLIX, the 45th edition of the Super Bowl, where the American Football Conference champion will face the National Football Conference champion on February 1st. Do not be put off by the late kick-off time (23.30 GMT) – this spectacle is an incredible way for all members of college to come together, pretend to be as American as possible and experts on the convoluted, yet highly enjoyable, sport. Expect lots of booze, Katy Perry and Lenny Kravitz providing halftime entertainment, and unacceptable amounts of snacks and unhealthy food – think American-style Thanksgiving and Christmas rolled into one.

The crowd-favourite football season continues as usual, with the race for the Premier League looking like a two horse match between Manchester City and Chelsea. The two square off on Saturday of 1st Week at Stamford Bridge, with many more high-profile clashes over the course of the term.
With the Rugby World Cup coming up this Autumn, this Six Nations will be a key indicator of how the preparations are going for the major northern hemisphere teams. We will see World Cup group rivals, Wales and England, going head-to-head in what is sure to be a tense, but no doubt great, encounter. Expect fierce rivalries to show themselves in your JCRs as supporters of all nations get behind their team.

2015 means it is World Cup year for cricket, with the competition taking place in New Zealand and Australia. In total, 40 matches will offer cricket connoisseurs across Oxford plenty of opportunities to watch live matches to pass the time – it seems unlikely, though, that this event will be able to draw the same crowds that Super Sunday football matches might. Nevertheless, given the loyalty many Oxonians have to their respective home countries (no matter how tenuous the connection they have with the countries in question), these matches are sure to provide hours of entertainment. English cricket fans will watch with trepidation to see if the decision to axe Alistair Cook as captain of the ODI squad pays dividends, and whether they can overcome their especially poor World Cup record in recent years, having not made it to the semi-finals for more than two decades.

To make sure you enjoy all of these sports as a college, talk to your JCR Sports and Entz Reps, get the JCR-funded snacks ready for the big match days, and make sure your work is done so you can really enjoy what is sure to be a great term of sport.

Where are they now: Nizlopi

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When listening back to Nizlopi’s 2005 hit ‘The JCB Song’, it’s easy to understand how the song reached number one. Detailing the stolen moments of a young child with his idolised dad, it instantly had a dual demographic. Both love-starved children and overtly sentimental types rushed out to purchase the single, although the weepy latter may have burst apart at the seams on the way to Woolworths.
 
A primary school disco was not complete without hearing Nizlopi listing various toys, or the cringey “rhyming” couplet ‘My dad’s B.A. Baracus,/Only with a JCB, and Bruce Lee’s numchuckers’. It was cheesy, but endearing.
 
The band had the makings of greatness. Listening back, they sound like that sickly-sweet cherub Ed Sheeran who’s made bags of cash since being their one-time roadie.
 
So why haven’t Nizlopi? Despite producing two further albums and touring incessantly to often sold-out venues (and supporting Christina Aguilera), for
some reason, they just haven’t managed to compete with the big boys.
 
Maybe all they need is their old friend Ed to put in a good word. 

Shades of the Savannah

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Preview: The Oxford Revue’s Audrey

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Following the success of last term’s Audrey’s at the Wheatsheaf, The Revue have moved to The Old Fire Station. I met Barney Fishwick and Dan Byam-Shaw, of The Revue fame, to talk about what to expect from their show this Tuesday and the subsequent Audrey’s in 4th and 8th week.

For those unfamiliar with the show, it was set up two years ago to fill the void of comedy nights in Oxford. The aim is to present a platform where new comedians/writers can find a way into the comedy scene at Oxford that, at the moment, is predominantly dominated by groups like The Imps and The Revue. By giving people who haven’t performed before the chance to do it alongside performers more experienced with the format, the hope is to make the whole thing less intimidating. Indeed, this is reportedly where former Revue president Jack Chisnall first got involved. The shows are open to anyone, says Byam-Shaw, so “if you want to audition, please email [email protected]”.

This reflects, according to Fishwick, Revue’s general change over the years; “there used to only be six members but this year our committee is made up of 15 members.” However, hard-core Revue fans shouldn’t worry as the format of the shows aims to strike a 50/50 balance between Revue content and fresh faces.

Of course when talking about the comedy scene in Oxford, it is difficult not to draw parallels with the thriving scene in Cambridge. The Footlights have hundreds of people wanting to get involved every year – something that both Byam-Shaw and Fishwick said they were aiming for for the Oxford culture. Byam-Shaw says the way to do it is with events like this, which can really help “foster interest”.  

When I asked what they thought the change of venue – from last term’s Wheatsheaf to the Old Fire Station – would do for the nights, they were both excited about the prospect. “The Wheatsheaf was good in many ways with a relaxed pub atmosphere, which is good for stand-up,” however, they noted, “it was not so good for sketches.” This was to do with people talking at the back, a generally too-small capacity and a feeling of under-rehearsal. The hope, it seems, is that the more obvious theatre setting will make for a more rehearsed and “regular” format. When you increase regularity, quality and consistency improve along with it.

Fishwick also pointed out crucial the audience is, “if they are not laughing, then you have nothing to feed off.” As I’m told to expect “songs, sketches and slivers of stand-up” in a new-improved bigger venue, I’m sure this won’t be a problem. But make sure to book tickets for Audrey at the Old Fire Station on 20th January so they don’t look sillier than they planned to…