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Prague’s tween magazines: less fun more freaky

Waking up for the first time in your new home in a totally new city is always going to feel awkward. You still haven’t quite worked out where you are on the map, how to buy travel tickets, whether it’s OK to drink from the tap, and whether the bread you found in a supermarket nearby was supposed to be as hard as a rock. Waking up in your new home in Prague, with the Book of Mormon for a pillow, in a converted warehouse flat that tries to be a country cottage, where lifts don’t have doors, where it’s quite cool to wear sunglasses in a mall, and where trams that are supposed to exist, just don’t: I guess that’s more than awkward. 

  

So what do you do to combat the unfamiliar? Particularly if you’re worried these feelings may encourage you to stalk English speakers (even if they are the odious kind who move to a new city once they’ve run out of things to complain about in the old one), or, worse, start frequenting the only Irish pub and going to erasmus parties. My advice: you sit down in a Starbucks with a coffee and a Czech magazine. The latter will remind you that you are actually doing something worthwhile on your year out. If you feel like your language is a bit ropey, buy a kid’s magazine. There’s a range to chose from: “Lokomotiva Tomáš”, “Simpsonovi”, or “Garfield a pøátelé” to name but a few. All familiar faces, and the foreign twist is limited to the speech bubbles alone. Or if you want to raise the bar a little, try a prepubescent girl’s magazine; because, really, how different could they be over here? 

  

I spent 29 crowns on “Top dívky” (Top Girl) today, expecting to find out why Miley Cyrus’ Czech counterpart likes to wear purple, how to get my dream boy to talk to me at break time, and where I can find a bra that’s smaller than a double A. Instead, I now know which make up to use in case I had plans to transform a fairly pretty 11 year old into a baby prostitute, and that Megan Fox is really successful because she’s super slim and looks good in her knickers. From the photo-romance story, I can discern that ugly girls get cheated on, whilst the pretty ones will have lovely boyfriends who take them on holidays but still treat them like they’re a bit soft in the head. If I were a fat 13 year old, I’d now have a pretty extreme diet plan at my disposal, and if I were a skinny one, I could have joined the group of girls photographed to go with the article “We love our bodies!” Most disturbingly, if I were on the sex offender’s list and looking for a date, all I’d need to do is flick to the magazine’s “lonely hearts” column, and give Bara a bell (She’s 10 and is looking for a boy between 11 and 12 who likes Hannah Montana). 

 

There’s a lot wrong with girls’ and women’s magazines in the UK. They continue to remind their readers that, frankly, if your nose is a bit off centre or if you’re a bit wider than you’re supposed to be, you might as well just never leave your house. But at least they pretend to say otherwise – a picture of an airbrushed, emaciated model is at least coupled with an article that advises us to be Fearlesss! and Confident! An article on how best to please men is printed alongside an article about how, actually, being independent and career driven is kind of OK too (even if we all know that it’s just a bit sad, really). The mindset towards gender that is reflected by both countries’ girls’/women’s magazines, shows just how much is left to be desired in this so-called “post feminist” world. But at least in the UK, it’s all relatively subliminal. Over here, the magazines might as well just employ people to stand at school gates and shout out, “Be sexy and skinny, or die alone”. 

Oxford University Orchestra (Benjamin Wallfisch)

As we enter the second half of term, adverts for the concerts to be given by student ensembles are starting to appear throughout town, and it’s difficult to know which ones to go to. Of course, a college orchestra (typically non-auditioning) is likely to put on a concert for free, but then there are concerts by university-wide, auditioning orchestras with modest ticket prices. 

 

Putting to one side the moral support that we should all feel compelled to give to our fellow students, it might sometimes be the case that the money spent on a ticket to see a university orchestra could be better used as a supplement to a more costly but less risky professional performance. This term, however, the Oxford University Orchestra, conducted by Benjamin Wallfisch, proved that they are not to be underestimated. While other student orchestras may struggle with their timing, their phrasing and their solos (no more or less than we would expect), the OUO demonstrated an impressive solidarity and skill. 

 

After a delayed and disorganised entrance, any mild frustrations were put to rest by the opening piece, Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring, which was definitely the highlight of the programme. Naturally, there were minor hiccups dotted here and there (usually in the upper woodwind, though never a distraction), but the overall performance was shockingly demonic – every section of the orchestra played with fiery potency, and perfectly conjured the image of a pagan sacrificial dance. 

 

After the interval, they returned with Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony – one of his most enduringly popular. The orchestra continued to play at the same high standard, and they proved that the most important thing for inexperienced players is self-confidence; they gave a stunning performance precisely because they knew they could. Away from all the infernal drama, during the more tender moments of the symphony, their focus shifted from ostentatious delivery and sonority to a conscious attempt to remain synchronised, which ironically affected their timing. But, once they had worked their way towards the dramatic finale, they were back on top-form and executed another perfect climax. 

 

Recommended recordings: 

‘The Rite of Spring’ by Stravinsky – The Philadelphia Orchestra, Riccardo Muti.

Symphony No. 5 by Shostakovich – The Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra, Vasily Petrenko.

 

From Russia with Love

It was the Union ball on Friday.

Hilary balls are always tricky things. Michaelmas balls benefit from hordes of overexcited freshers desperate to fling money at anything that sounds like a party, and so selling tickets is never a problem. Union balls in Trinity are often big, spectacular events held at a country house somewhere, and so sell out simply for novelty value. But Hilary balls are absolute buggers to organise. Everyone’s tired, jaded, and broke, and so selling tickets is no easy feat. Very often, they lose significant amounts of money. Running a decent ball is absolutely crucial to a Union Secretary’s electoral chances – a poor ball was partially responsible for sinking Anna Williams’s run for Librarian last Hilary, whereas Laura Winwood’s Trinity ball, which bounced back from near disaster when the proposed venue fell through, was good enough that no-one wanted to challenge her in the elections three weeks later. So Will Chamberlain will probably have been feeling pretty pleased with himself on Saturday morning.

For a Hilary ball, this one was really quite good. OK, there wasn’t enough Champagne [sic – the Union never serves real Champagne, at least at public events, but at balls everyone’s too drunk to care] – by the time I arrived at about 10, it was all gone. The Oxford Revue fell flat (enlivened only by some guy at the back throwing ice cubes at them). The guys doing the food packed up before I got a chance to try it. But everything else worked really well. Out of the Blue were good as ever, almost every girl in the room looking absolutely mesmerised as the lead singer strutted up and down in front of the audience. The decorations were pretty spectacular, even down to the leering Roger Moore in, I think, the Chamber, and the beer, VKs, and vodka shots were plentiful. The Chamber normally hosts a sort of disco thing, which at the beginning of the evening is fairly embarrassing: a scattering of insufficiently drunk couples jerking awkwardly to crappy pop tune while the bored DJ texts his mates. But this term, to kick things off there was a really good salsa display. One girl in particular was absolutely mesmerising, dressed in a shimmering silver dress that was little more than a bikini and doing utterly incredible things with her hips. This was followed by organised Russian country dancing, everyone forming into a circle and marching, clapping and twirling to bellowed instructions from a faintly scary instructor (‘dance like Russian peasant!’). It was hilarious to watch, and everyone looked like they were having a good time. There was the traditional disco thing too, but only at the end of the night, when everyone was drunk enough to enjoy it.

Everyone looked like they were having a good time, and some clever cost control by Will, combined with good ticket sales by Hilary standards, means that it will almost certainly end up profitable.

 

Fine Dining: Meat Feast

I have a general rule of never going to Cowley solely for a meal. Pleasant though many of the restaurants east of the Cherwell are, it’s just bit of a trek, and I’m not that dedicated as a reviewer. No meal is worth a thirty minute walk, or even a cycle ride that’s almost entirely uphill from Magdelen roundabout onwards. But a friend wanted to try Carne, and like the selfless, generous fellow that I am, I relented and agreed to make the arduous journey across the wilds of east Oxford. This was a mistake.

Carne advertises itself as ‘the best steak house, BBQ bar in Oxford.’ I have no idea what a ‘BBQ bar’ is, but Carne is an all-you-can-eat place. There’s a buffet, with a variety of salady-things along with some potatoes, pasta and the like. Once you’re back at your table, the waiters come around every five minutes or so with a lump of meat on a skewer, from which they carve. In theory, this goes on for the entire evening, and you can eat and eat until your chair collapses. Now, most all-you-can-eat places have some devious method of preventing you from eating them into bankruptcy. Pizza places spray extra oil onto their buffet food, to make you feel fuller more quickly. Some Chinese buffets add artificial appetite-suppressants to their food. Carne has a different method: it just makes the food utterly, retch-inducingly disgusting.

The buffet offerings looked like they had been sitting there, under their heat lamps all day. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were unchanged from the lunchtime produce. One offering of ‘fish [of indeterminate species] a la Brazialiana’ was looked particularly vile, sodden lumps of white flesh bobbing apologetically in a vat of pale yellowish liquid, which had formed a thick skin on the surface which came away with Ruth’s spoon. ‘That fish looks like the waste products of a particularly major liposuction operation have been deposited in a vat of heavily congealed semen,’ I observed. ‘It does, but you can’t say that in the paper,’ she replied.

The meat that they brought to our table was a little better, but not much. Pork was dry as a bone, a lump of beef was indifferent, some lamb was ok while chicken hearts are a perfect demonstration of why everyone else serves leg or breast. The waiter was quite sweet though.

We ordered a cocktail: a pitcher of ‘Amazon Sunshine’ made with ‘a tropical berry called aceola that contains ten time more vitamin c than orange, plus cachaca fresh lime juice, sugar and mint leaves.’ I have no idea what alcohol they put in it, but whatever it was they clearly emptied most of a bottle; the final mixture was so strong that it was basically undrinkable. I took one sip and came very close to spraying it all over my pork (which, to be honest, could have used the flavour). Neither of us finished our first glass, let alone the whole pitcher. It cost £20 – £20! – which is more than they charge you at Bridge. Someone promised to bring us a jug of water, but it never came. There were two other tables occupied in the whole room, which was dark, cavernous, and featured orange plastic chairs and a football game playing on a projector screen on the wall. No-one appeared watching.

Carne epitomises everything that is wrong with restaurants today. It represents the triumph of quantity over quality: the idea that you can have a good time just by stuffing your face with ridiculous quantities of cheap meat really grates in an era when people are becoming more and more aware of the health and environmental consequences of excessive meat consumption. The food might be cheap, but they do a fine job of making it back on the drink prices. Above all, Carne is indicative of management who just don’t care: about food, décor, service, the environment, or the simple business of giving customers a good time. Avoid.

Rating: 1/5
In short: No-one is carnivorous enough for this

 

Eat your words, says Brasenose JCR

Brasenose JCR decided this Sunday to make one student eat a dictionary.

The motion was written in response to a motion from Andrew Sillett, a Brasenose finalist, which complained about the poor use of grammar by the JCR committee and compelled them to buy a dictionary.

“Even an Oxford college placed at 26th on the Norrington Table should have a JCR committee vaguely cognizant of the English language. This JCR therefore proposes that the committee issue a joint apology to the JCR for the mental anguish caused by their oversights and that they purchase an Oxford English Dictionary and use it.”

This motion was passed with the amendments that Andrew Sillett should buy the dictionary and provide grammar lessons for JCR committee members.

The following emergency motion was then put forward by Ed Chalk and passed by an overwhelming majority.
“Andrew Sillett is in desperate need of a sense of perspective, tact, and the proper uses for his free time. He is in even greater need of a sense of humour. This JCR therefore proposes that having suggested that the JCR purchase an Oxford English Dictionary, Andrew be forced to eat it. He may choose any appropriate seasonings and condiments – might we suggest humility?”

After the motion had passed, Ed Chalk was asked if the motion was a joke motion which would mean the reward of a crate of beer. He replied that, if he had to choose between a crate of beer and the joy of watching Mr Sillett eat a dictionary he would sacrifice the beer.

 

Ayalon: the aftermath

The alleged racist heckling of Danny Ayalon at the Oxford Union last week has prompted Israel to develop a new policy on how it deals with such incidents.

Danny Ayalon, the Israeli Deputy Foreign Minister, addressed the Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Organisations on Tuesday, and said of the incident that “this type of warfare is on a global scale, which is guided by the Palestinian Authority and Islamist groups.”

Mr Ayalon commented, “We need to focus Jewish NGOs and organizations to this issue. They say ‘Free Palestine’ and try and prevent us from speaking, we say ‘Free speech’.”

He continued. “We have learned how to defend ourselves from [physical] terrorism and now we are learning how to defend ourselves from verbal terrorism.”

A Facebook group has also been set up in response to the incident. Named, “Standing against anti-Semitism in Oxford”, the group has more than 500 members.

The group’s description states, “As students, we are taking a stand against anti-Semitism. We are appalled at the behaviour of the student who screamed anti-Semitic remarks at an Oxford Union event. This is nothing to do with foreign policy or politics, but about showing our intolerance for intolerance. All racism, whoever it’s directed at, is unacceptable.”

In regards to what action Mr Ayalon will be taking, his spokesman, Ashley Perry, stated, “We are waiting to hear about the progress of the police investigations before making a decision on whether to press charges. We are looking into all possibilities and will not allow such blatant racism, intolerance and incitement to violence go unnoticed and unpunished.”

The Israeli Embassy confirmed that the police were investigating the incident after a request from several students.

 

Rad-ical same sex hand holding

This Valentine’s day, students formed a same-sex chain around the Radcliffe Camera, in celebration of friendship and gay rights.
The event was planned by OUSU and RAG as part of the Oxford-wide Queer History Month. Instead of a boy-girl line, the participants held hands in boy-boy, girl-girl formation.

The event was inspired by ‘A Day in Hand’, a national project which aims to support and encourage same sex couples to hold hands in public.

‘We thought it would be really nice to do something around the Rad Cam as it’s somewhere that’s iconic to Oxford. We’ve got loads of people here, it’s a great vibe,’ said Rachel Dedman, RAG president.

There were almost enough students to almost form a circle around the entire camera, with some non-students joining in to support the cause.
Asked what he hoped to achieve by the morning, OUSU LGBT officer Jasper Minton-Taylor said , ‘a sense of community, a sense of friendship, a sense of acceptance.’
He said it was ‘quite fun and light hearted, but also just saying it’s really fine to hold hands with a member of the same-sex, and to reaffirm that message.’
‘I think it would be amazing to make it a yearly thing,’ said Dedman.

‘Stinking’ intruders break into Lincoln

On Sunday night two members of the public allegedly broke into Lincoln college and made their way into a Lincoln student’s room.

Students have been expressing their concern at the college’s security following the incident.

Zoe O’Shea, a Lincoln fresher, woke up at 1.30 am after she heard her door open. Expecting it to be friends, she was shocked when two strangers were standing feet from her bed.
She described them as “stinking of alcohol and cigarettes.”

O’Shea said that the man and woman claimed to be looking for ‘Susie.’ They then asked if there was a party going on where they could find some alcohol.
When she asked them to leave, the pair headed for the JCR where the Superbowl was being aired.

It is understood that the two had been seen earlier in the evening looking into the JCR from Turl Street.
When asked about the incident, Lincoln’s Junior Dean commented that this was the first he had heard about a break-in. He said that there had been no official report made regarding the incident and therefore no statement could be made.

However, O’Shea claimed that she went to a porter to report the incident, and was told that “I should have locked my door”.

“She [the porter on duty] was quite stern and unsympathetic,” she said.

Richard De Vere, a Lincoln mathematician, was watching the Superbowl when they came in, once again asking for alcohol. The pair this time claimed that they were friends of ‘Sarah’ and asked where the free drinks were.

He described the two as looking “poorly kempt” and being in their 40s. He also stated that they appeared very drunk.

Finally a student went to find a porter and the two were forced to leave the college.

James Meredith, JCR President, said, “I’m absolutely horrified by the incident, and intend to discuss it further with college authorities.”

“It is worth noting though, that I brought the fact that the security system at the bottom of staircase one wasn’t working to the attention of college last term.”

At present Lincoln uses a swipe card system at night. It is suspected that the intruders waited until someone else swiped their card, and then followed them in, otherwise known as ‘tail gating.’
Lincoln Bursar was contacted for a comment, but has not yet responded.

 

Chinese New Year Gala

By far the most important festival in China is the Spring Festival, also known as Chinese New Year.

This year, members of OXCSSA and students of other universities in south England gathered in Oxford to celebrate the Festival. Here, we bring you Cherwell photographer Wojtek Szymczak’s take on proceedings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Got some photos that you’d like to share with the rest of Oxford?
Why not send them in to [email protected]?

Blues Men’s Basketball highlights v Warwick

Oxford basketball Blues took on Warwick in a last-16 play-off match on 17-02-10. Watch the highlights here